The Atlas Murders (18 page)

Reluctantly, he raised
himself and thought he better get back to watching his suspect, Conrad back in
the bar.  

Nilima took a linen cloth
from a drawer and dried Henry tenderly before he dressed.

“You come see me again
Henry?”

 “Yes maybe, not tomorrow
night but the next night.”

He took a necklace of
polished colored stones out of his pocket and fastened it round her neck.

“A small present for a
wonderful and beautiful girl.”

She cooed with delight and
ran to a mirror to admire it. Henry laid some rupees on the table and left.

 As he walked into the bar he
could see
Conrad through the thick smoke sitting at a table near the end of the
bar with his two crew mates. He looked for Tukola but he wasn’t anywhere to be
seen. After ordering a pint and quenching his thirst with a couple of good
swills, he went to Conrad and his mates and asked if he could to join them.

“Where have you been this
last couple of hours?”
Conrad enquired.

“Went for a bit of a stroll,
the heat and smoke in here gave me a headache.”

 “Sure it wasn’t a hairy
snatch that nearly smothered you?”

 “Well if it was, it would be
a nice way to go!”

 The second steward agreed
and lifting his glass he said, “I’ll drink to that.”

 The other seaman finished
his drink and pushed back his chair.

“I don’t know about you lads
but I’m heading back for a bit of shut eye.”

 “I’ll join you,” Conrad said
as he drained his glass.

They all headed back together
and when they alighted from the rickshaw they were met by some young girls
soliciting along the dark road leading back to the dock. They were taking their
customers to the bales of jute or going on board the ships docked nearby. Gary
Conrad chatted to
one of them but decided he’d had enough sex for one night.

“Nice little tart. I know
where to go if I don’t feel like going all the way uptown.”

 “Yeah,” agreed the ordinary
seaman, “If I had my own cabin I could have her all night. Couldn’t ride her
with that other fellow in the bunk above me.”

 “Ah forget it,” said the
second steward, “you can have a knee trembler and go back to your bunk. No
point bringing them on board for the night.”

 “You’re right,” said Henry, “there’s
no privacy on board ships, unless you’re an officer.”

 The two forward holds were
discharged the next day and they had started loading the bales of jute; it
wouldn’t be long until all the grain was discharged and loading would only take
a couple of more days. Henry concluded as he went out on deck and looked down
the after holds observing the natives filling the grain into large bags then
loading them onto slings to be hoisted up and onto the quay wall, they were
almost to the bottom of the hold.

 He went back to the pantry
for ‘smoko’ and brought coffee and sandwiches to the chief officer’s cabin. Luckily
for Henry, the chief officer was not around - this was the opportunity he’d
been waiting for. Reaching in his pocket, he quickly switched the dummy key for
the master key hanging on the key board. Job done, he thought as he closed the
cabin door behind him.

Henry had an hour break in
the afternoon and went ashore to the harbor office. The clerk, after pocketing
the rupee notes handed him by Henry, showed him to the telephone with a huge
smile and a courteous gesture. The call was quick and the code word acknowledged.
The clerk was surprised at the swiftness of the call. ”You not get call
through?”

 “Yes, thank you very much. I
didn’t have very much to say just, a short message, much obliged.”

He strolled around the dock
taking stock of the area and noting how dangerous it could be if some would be
attacker wanted to hide and wait for his quarry, he knew now what an easy
target he was and how lucky he’d been. He could easily be lying in the city
morgue now awaiting burial in some local cemetery. He came on discarded condoms
in a covered area behind a warehouse where bales of jute were laid together to
form what looked like a giant bed. It was obviously that this was where the
prostitutes were plying their trade. The lighting in this area was
non-existent. He never realized they were working this close to the ships. Probably
a lot of them actually go on board the ships, he thought, even though the
watchman on the Rangoon was under strict orders not to allow any women on
board. It was obvious how easy it was for a killer to take advantage of young women
under these circumstances. It was frightening to see how vulnerable they were.

He was back on board for
afternoon smoko and glanced up at the key board in the chief officer’s cabin,
smirking a little to himself at how slick a job he’d done. The ship’s agent was
in his cabin so he asked Henry to bring tea for him. He had his ear cocked for
any snippets of information about when they’d be sailing and to what port. The
loading of jute was going well in the forward holds and they would start
loading jute in the after holds in the morning. All told, about two more days
should see them on their way. When he went to collect the tea cups he turned to
the chief officer who was writing at his desk.

“Where are we bound from here,
sir?”

 “Funny you should ask that;
we’ve just got orders we’re bound for Melbourne, Australia, so you spread the
word to the crew and I’ll give you the forwarding address to hang on the notice
board in the crew’s quarters.”

He handed Henry a typed sheet
of paper with the Australian address on it for the crew members to send to
their loved ones so they’d have mail in their next port. Henry announced the
news in the crew’s recreation room. Vera he knew would know and he could expect
a letter from her and maybe Vincent who would also know.

Gary Conrad was finishing a
letter to someone when Henry stepped into the cabin.

 “Here’s our forwarding
address, it’s Melbourne.”

 “Great, I can post this later.
Are you going ashore Henry?”

“I’m a bit fed up with that Blue
Orchid joint. I might try someplace else. I suppose you’ll go to The Blue
Orchid again?”

 “Yeah, I’m kinda hooked on
Harini, she’s a smashing turn.”

 “Well if I make it I might
drop in for one.”

“We’ll be sailing the day
after tomorrow, we’ll have a call I believe in Colombo – but I don’t think
there will be shore leave though.”

 “Henry, have you ever had a stop
at Colombo?”

 “No I’ve never been to
Colombo, what’s it like?”

 “It’s generally only a four
or five hour anchor stop taking on stores that you couldn’t normally get here
in Bombay but wait for it, the finest young tarts you ever laid an eye on come
on board. Look we better move, I’ll fill you in later.”

 The evening meal was a bit
of a rush as most of the men were heading ashore. On deck Henry noticed that the
discharging of cargo had stopped all the hatches were closed and all was silent
except for the throbbing of the generators. He’d brought some cigarettes with
him and sat smoking leaning on the gunwale watching all who were going ashore.

He was somewhat elated when
he saw the three deck apprentices heading away. Gary Conrad was right behind
them and had the second steward in tow. Now, if only Tukola and his mate would
leave. He took note of who was the night watchman; it was always one of the
senior able seamen. Tonight he saw him going aft to check the mooring ropes and
it wasn’t Tukola or his roommate. Then he saw Tukola going aft to take down the
ships ensign and he was turning on the ship’s deck lights from the mast houses
as he went. He knew he would take down all the flags and turn on all the lights
but he’d be free to go ashore after that. He saw three deckhands tramping the
gangway - one of them was Tukola’s roommate. Great he thought, only one to go
and the search would be able to proceed, he was confident it would turn up
something. He waited and watched anxiously as the crew went down the gangway in
dribs and drabs but no Tukola. When he thought the last had gone he looked at
his watch; it was quarter to nine, he could expect Fokir or his understudy
soon. He went up onto the boat deck and stood for a while. The ship was starboard
side to the quay so Welland’s cabin was only feet away from where he could keep
look out over the side to see if any of them were returning. It was only a few
seconds move to tap on the cabin window glass to alert the searcher. He saw a
big figure approaching the gangway dressed in a western style gray flannel suit.
It was Fokir. The night watchman asked him his business. “I am from the ship’s
agents and I have business with your chief officer.”

 “You know where his cabin is
sir?”

 “Yes, I’ve been on board
before.”

 Henry was fingering the key
in his pocket; still Tukola hadn’t gone ashore. He walked down to meet Fokir,
they didn’t speak. Fokir followed him onto the boat deck and they stood silent,
just listening.

“Thanks for coming, Fokir.
Tukola has not gone ashore, here’s the key.”

 “Have you tried it?”

 “No, not in this room but it
opens my door. The cabin is on our side here, starboard. I will keep look out
at the rail and if anyone of them are coming back I’ll tap three times on the
cabin window.”

 “Good Henry, it shouldn’t
take more than about ten minutes.”

Fokir disappeared into the
accommodation and Henry saw the light go on in the cabin. He stood looking out
over the rail and had a great view of the length of the quay wall. He could see
anyone approaching from a good way off. A minute later he saw Sweeney coming
along the quay. He was whistling and carrying a bag of purchases. A girl came
out of the shadows and stood in front of him, they spoke for a few minutes and
he took some money out of his pocket and handed it to her. She stood on her
toes and gave him a kiss on the lips. He watched her as she disappeared back
into the shadows. Good grief, Henry thought, how strange. A loud voice sounded
behind him.

 ”What are you doing on this
deck?”

 He turned and there was the
captain in his duck whites, with his hands behind his back and a stern look on
his face.

“You are the new steward I
signed on in Freemantle?”

 “Yes sir.”

 “Well, what are you doing on
this deck, don’t you know this is out of bounds to you?”

 “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t
realize, I came up to get a bit of cool air.”

 “Don’t let me see you on
this deck again unless you have some ship’s business. You have plenty of deck
space without coming up here.”

 “Aye-aye sir.”

The captain stood while Henry
made his way down the companionway onto the officer’s deck. Henry listened a
while and heard him walk back towards the bridge. He hurried quietly up the
port companionway and into the apprentice’s accommodation. “Fokir,” he
whispered quietly as he walked in, as not to alarm him.

Fokir turned round he was
searching through a drawer.

“Is everything ok?”

 “The old man has just
ordered me off the boat deck.”

“I’m nearly through here.” He
held up a handful of envelopes passed half to Henry, “here have a quick look
through these.”

Henry noticed the Thurrock
Hall stamp on the good quality vellum envelopes. The hand writing was the same
on them all, a woman’s writing. He opened one. They were from Oswyn’s mother.
Glancing through a couple of pages he could see they were normal mother to son
letters.

He handed them back to Fokir
who was careful to replace them exactly as he found them. They both stopped and
stood listening. There was someone talking out on the boat deck. Henry
recognized the old man’s voice. “It’s the captain talking to someone.” Henry
walked out to the front entrance and listened; he was talking to the chief
officer. He heard the chief officer ask him if he went to his cabin looking for
him. Jesus, Henry thought, he was referring to Fokir! The night watchman must
have told him there was a man from the office come on board. They walked back
towards the bridge. Henry rushed back to Fokir.

“Well, how are you going?”

 Fokir had a cloth in his
hand that he just took out from under the mattress at the back of Oswyn’s bunk.
He opened the cloth and laid it on top of the bureau. “Holy cow! Henry
exclaimed, serious stuff this.”

Inside the cloth was a small
Webley hand gun; a thirty eight mark four, with six chambers and a pouch which
he opened. It contained twelve bullets. Henry quickly jotted down the serial
number and they put it back again.

 “That’s it,” said Fokir,
taking off his light gloves.

 Henry cautioned him. “Before
we go out, the old man and the chief officer know you are on board. That’s what
they were talking about, so the night watchman might challenge you when you’re
leaving.”

 Fokir went to the outside
door and looked out to see how high the ship was riding over the quay wall. He
turned to Henry and handed him the key. “Hide this carefully. Look it’s only
about a six foot jump onto the quay wall. I’ll climb over there just aft of the
accommodation. I’ll wait for you outside the warehouse, same place I met you
before, say in ten minutes.”