The golden rendezvous by MacLean, Alistair

grenadier uards, you know, carter. Why the sudden concern?”

“You heard what dr. Marston said. Captain bullen. He’s

in a critical condition with a hole through his lung.”

“Ah, I think I understand. You agree, doctor?” I held my breath.

The chances were that the old boy hadn’t even the faintest idea what we

were talking about. But again i’d underrated ills astuteness.

“For a man with a ruptured lung,” be said gravely, “there can be

nothing worse than a smoke-laden atmosphere.”

“I see. Jose!” carreras spoke rapidly in spanish to the guard,

who grinned amiably, got to his feet, and made for the door, picking up

a chair en route. The door swung to behind him.

“No discipline.” tony carreras sighed. “None of this brisk

sentry-go marching and counter-marching like buckingham palace, mr.

carter. A chair tilted against a wall. Our latin blood, I fear. But,

I warn you, none the less effective a guard for all that. I see no harm

in his keeping a watch outside; apart from jumping out through one of

the windows into the sea below not that you are in any condition to do

that anyway can’t see what mischief you can get up to.” he paused,

looked at me consideringly. “You are singularly incurious, mr. carter.

Far from being in character. Makes one suspicious, you know.”

“Curious about what?” I growled. “Nothing to be curious about.

How many of those armed thugs do you have aboard the campari?”

“Forty. Not bad, eh? well, thirty-eight effectives. Captain

bullen killed one and you seriously damaged the hand of another. Where

did you learn to shoot like that, carter?”

“Luck. Cerdan recovered yet?”

“Yes,” he said briefly. He didn’t seem to want to talk about

cerdan.

“He killed dexter?” I persisted.

“No. Werner, the nurse-the one you killed to-night.” for

a professed humanitarian, the death of one of his colleagues in

crime left him strangely unmoved. “A steward’s uniform and a tray of

food at face level. Your head steward, white, saw him twice and never

suspected, not that he went within thirty feet of white. And it was

just dexter’s luck that he saw this steward unlocking the radio room.”

“I suppose that same murderous devil got brownell?”

“And benson. Benson caught him coming out of the radio room after

disposing of brownell and was shot. Werner was going to dump him

straight over the side, but there were people directly underneath. He

dragged him across to the port side. Again crew beneath. So he emptied

a life jacket locker and put benson inside.” carteras grinned. “And

just your bad luck that you happened to be standing right beside that

locker when we sent werner up to dispose of the body, just before

midnight last night.”

“Who dreamed up this scheme of having the false marconi man in

kingston drill through from the wireless office to the cold-air trunking

in cerdan’s room below and buttoning the earphones permanently into the

wireless officer’s receiving circuit? cerdan, your old man, or you?”

“My father.”

“And the trojan horse idea. Your father also?”

“He is a brilliant man. Now I know why you were not curious. You

knew.”

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” I said wearily. “Not, that is, when

it was too late. All our troubles really started in carracio. And

we loaded those huge crates in caracio. Now I know why the stevedores

were so terrified when one of the crates almost slipped from its slings.

Now I know why your old man was so damned anxious to inspect the hold

not to pay his respects to the dead men in their coffins, but to see how

his men were placed for smashing their way out of the crates. And then

they broke out last night and forced the battens of the hatch. How many

men in a crate, carreras?”

“Twenty. Rather uncomfortably jammed, poor fellows. I think they

had a rough twenty-four hours.”

“Twenty. Two crates. We loaded four of those. What’s in the

other crates?”

“Machinery, mr. carter, just machinery.”

“One thing I am really curious about.”

“Yes?”

“What’s behind all this murderous business? kidnap? ransom?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss those things with you.” he

grinned. “At least, not yet. You remaining here, miss beresford, or do

you wish me to escort you up to your parents in the drawing room?”

“Please leave the young lady,” marston said. “I want her

to help me keep a twenty-four-hour watch on captain bullen. He

might have a relapse at any moment.”

“As you wish.” he bowed to susan beresford. “Good night, all.”

the door closed. Susan beresford said, “so that’s how they came

aboard. How in the world did you know?”

“How in the world did I know? you didn’t think they had forty men

hidden up inside the funnel, did you? once we knew it was careras and

cerdan, it was obvious. They came aboard at carracio. So did those

huge crates. Two and two, miss beresford, have never failed to add up

to four.” she flushed and gave me a very old-fashioned look, but I

ignored it and went on: “you both see what this means, don’t you?”

“Let him tell us, doctor,” miss beresford said acidly. “He’s just

dying to tell us.”

“It means that there’s something very, very big behind it all,” I

said slowly. “All cargoes, except those in free ports and under certain

transshipment conditions, which don’t apply here, have to be inspected

by customs. Those crates passed the carracio customs-which means that

the customs know what’s inside. Probably explains, too, why our

carracio agent was so nervous. But the customs let it pass. Why?

because they had orders to let those crates pass. And who gave them the

orders? their government. And who gave the government its orders? who

but the generalissimo? after all, he is the government. The

generalissimo,” I went on thoughtfully, “is directly behind all this.

And we know he’s desperate for money. I wonder, I wonder?”

“You wonder what?” marston asked.

“I don’t really know. Tell me, doctor, have you the facilities for

making tea or coffee here?”

“Never yet seen a dispensary that hadn’t, my boy.”

“What an excellent idea!” susan beresford jumped to her feet.

“I’d love a cup of tea.”

“Coffee.”

“Tea.”

“Coffee. Humour a sick man. This should be quite an experience

for miss beresford. Making her own coffee, I mean. You fill the

percolator with water

“Please stop there.” she crossed to my bedside and looked down at

me, her face without expression, her eyes very steady. “You have a

short memory, mr. carter. I told you the night before last that I was

sorry very sorry. Remember?”

“I remember,” I acknowledged. “Sorry, miss beresford.”

“Susan.” she smiled. “If you want your coffee, that is.”

“Blackmail.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, call her ‘susan’ if she wants,” dr.

Marston interrupted irritably. “What’s the harm?”

“Doctor’s orders,” I said resignedly. “O.k. Susan, bring the

patient his coffee.” the circumstances were hardly normal: I could get

back to calling her miss beresford later on.

five minutes passed, then she brought the coffee. I looked the

tray and said, “what? only three cups? there should

e four.”

“Four?”

“Four. Three for us and one for our friend outside.”

“Our friend you mean the guard?”

“Who else?”

“Have you gone mad, mr. carter?”

“Fair’s fair,” marston murmured. “‘john’ to you.” she looked

coldly at him, glared at me, and said icily, ‘have you gone mad? why

should I bring that thug coffee. ’11 do nothing

“Our chief officer always has a reason for his actions,” Marston

said in sharp and surprising support. “Please do as he asks.”

she poured a cup of coffee, took it through the outside door, and

was back in a few seconds.

“He took it?” I asked.

“Didn’t he just. Seems he’s had nothing except a little water to

drink in the past day or so.”

“I can believe it. I should imagine that they weren’t too well

equipped in the catering line in those crates.” I took the cup of

coffee she offered me, drained it, and set it down. It tasted just the

way coffee ought to taste.

“How was it?” susan asked.

“Perfect. Any suggestion I made that you didn’t even know how to

boil water I withdraw unreservedly.”

she and marston looked at each other and then marston said, “no

more thinking or worrying to do to-night, john?”

“Nary a bit. All I want is a good night’s sleep.”

“And that’s why I put a pretty powerful sedative in your coffee.”

he looked at me consideringly. “Coffee has a remarkable quality of

disguising other flavours, hasn’t it?”

I knew what he meant and he knew I knew what he meant.

I said, “dr. Marston, I do believe I have been guilty of

underestimating you very considerably.”

“I believe you have, john,” he said jovially. “I believe you have

indeed.”

I became drowsily aware that my left leg was hurting, not badly,

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