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Authors: John Molloy

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery, #Retail, #Suspense, #Thriller

The Atlas Murders (23 page)

BOOK: The Atlas Murders
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 They all agreed that was the
only way open to them. The senior radio officer got up to go and send his
message.

“Please sit a minute; we’re
not quite finished here yet.”

 “Aye-aye sir.”

 “Now, I want all of your
opinions on how best to handle this situation.” He looked at the chief
engineer. “Can we start with you Robert?”

 The chief engineer was a man
of fifty-five and had huge experience on ships, having sailed on merchant ships
during the war. Death was no stranger to him. He had witnessed ships torpedoed
and men in the sea dying in burning oil waiting for rescue which never came
because ships were issued with strict orders not to stop on any account. He was
used to death, but the prospect of a cold calculated killer living among them
even sent shivers down his spine. He looked the captain squarely in the eye. “There
is not much use trying to find this murderer. We will have to leave that to the
authorities. We could question all the crew members, but do you think we would
be any nearer an answer?”

All agreed with this; with
not a clue to go on
it, looked a dead end.

“But what I do suggest very
strongly and I’m sure you will all agree, the protection of our young passenger
must be our top priority.”

 The captain turned visibly
white with fear - his eyes were filled with abject terror. “My God men, she is
going to have to be protected twenty-four hours a day. But who should we trust
to do this apart from ourselves and the other officers? I have already
forbidden the stewards to include her cabin on their cleaning rounds. We can’t
take any chances.”

 “Yes sir,” agreed the chief
steward. I couldn’t trust any of my men and just between ourselves that new man
we took on in Fremantle is someone we know nothing about. And sometimes his
ship experience seems a bit dubious. Maybe I’m wronging the man but little
things he failed to do just struck me as strange for one apparently so
experienced.”

 The radio officer agreed
with the chief steward.

 “Yes, I asked him if we
should splice the main brace when we crossed the line and he gave me a blank
look like he didn’t know what I was talking about - a bit strange for a fellow
at sea for years. To me, he comes across as someone who might be running away
from something.”

 The captain stood up.

“Thank you gentlemen for your
contributions; I will call you all again when we get word about the burial. In
the meantime, report anything you might hear or your juniors might hear from
below decks.”

 As they left his cabin, the
captain turned to the mate.

“Could you wait a second, there
are a few things I want to discuss with you.”

 “Yes sir.”

 The captain put his hands up
to his face and lay back in his chair. “Would you believe I feel physically
sick over this whole business? The responsibility for this young girl is
weighing down on me in a dreadful way. I’m afraid I’m not confidant of securing
her complete safety, that’s why I’m asking if you can you help along with the
other officers.”

 “Yes sir, of course. I and
our second and third officers will do everything you ask. I will have to
discuss with the chief engineer about his men’s co-operation, especially the
second and third who are reliable company men.”

 “Do that and I will speak to
Pippa and explain how she will have to keep her door locked at all times - especially
at night. Thank you. I’ll let you know about the arrangements as soon as we get
word back from Colombo.”

 During the days following
the grisly discovery, meal times were quiet and somber affairs. No one spoke. The
saloon was like a monastery. The crew’s mess was even worse; men sat around
eyeing one another, not a word spoken - suspicion hung on the air like a foul
mist.

Conspicuous by his absence
from the dinner table was Sweeney, the junior radio officer, but no one
remarked on it. The chief steward had come into the pantry and spluttered out
the news about the possibility of the ship returning to Colombo. After the
evening meal, Henry spent some time alone on deck; the thought of the ship
going back to Colombo with the dead girl was devastating. He’d surely be
arrested and would also be the prime suspect for this latest murder. And even
identifying as a police officer, he’d still have to prove he was innocent of
Nilima’s murder.

He hadn’t spent much time
alone with Gary Conrad since the discovery of the dead girl. The few minutes he
was in his company alone, Conrad seemed as shocked as the other crewmen.

Henry went down the after
deck and stood outside the hospital door. This was a room that was seldom
occupied; he imagined none of the crewmen were ever in there. He didn’t want to
look conspicuous hanging around, so he quickly tried the door handle. “” he
muttered, “I thought so, locked.” Then he remembered the master key and went to
get it from its secret hiding place. I’m sure the key will fit, he mused, it’s the
same type of lock as all the others. I’ll need a small flashlight there’s one
in Conrad’s drawer. Then he heard a voice coming from behind the poop house
where he had been standing several nights before.

“He’s a foul mouthed young
scamp. One I never liked.”

Henry lost the sound, it was
like a whisper. He ventured a bit closer and heard the voice again.

“Did you ever hear him talk
about women? No respect, that’s what I say. People like him can cause harm. I’ve
seen it happen where I live in Solford.”

 “It still doesn’t say he
could commit murder. I know he was one of them down the tween decks,” was the
response from a second voice.

 Then a third voice chipped
in: “We’re living, eating, and sleeping with this brute. Did you see the poor wee
things face all battered her cloths all torn? Who’d do such a thing? What about
that new steward we took on in Fremantle, I’d like to know a bit more about him
too?”

“Aye, I hear some of them in
the recreation room say he’s not much of a sea going fellow - strange him
signing on in Aussie.”

The conversation continued.

“That’s not strange; you get
lots of blokes  on the beach looking for jobs in all sorts of countries. We
picked up a fireman in Valparaiso. He was on the beach six months, Scottish he
was, living ashore with a woman whose husband was at sea and when he came home
the lad had to clear out. We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open and catch this
bastard. I’d have no qualms giving him a watery grave.”

 Henry moved quietly down the
deck and stood inside the mast house; he stayed out of sight in the darkness
and watched as they passed to see who the three inquisitors were. Henry
identified a fireman, the boatswain and an A.B. All in their fifties. As older
seaman, they would have definitely not gone with any of the boat girls.

My God, Henry thought, this gaggle of
crewmen could be a dangerous development; they were setting up their own
vigilante group.

 Gary Conrad was sitting
reading when he got to his cabin he raised his head from the book. “Talk of
returning to Colombo with this girl’s body.”

 “Yeah, it’s a terrible
situation, poor girl. She didn’t deserve that.”

 “I know it’s a hard life
they have.”

He stood and gazed out of the
porthole.

“Did you see her face Henry?”

 “No, I only saw the body
when it was covered.”

 “I didn’t see the body
either but I heard the deck lads who found her saying she was badly beaten, her
face was battered and looked like her neck was broken cause her head was
twisted to one side.”

Henry’s disgust showed on his
face. “Christ almighty! who would want to do that to a young girl? They might
be prostitutes or whores whatever you like to call them, but who thinks he has
the right to mistreat them?”

Conrad threw the book down.

“Whoever he is he’s a sick
bastard and feelings are running so high around the crewmen. If they find for
sure who he is, I’d hate to think what they’ll do to him. It won’t be justice
in a court he’ll get; it’ll be over the side with him or what’s left of him
after they’re finished with him.”

 Henry stripped off to go for
a shower. He stood with a towel around his waist. “I’m glad I wasn’t down those
tween decks.”

 “Fuck you Henry; don’t look
at me with suspicion because I took my girl below there. Half the fucking crew
was down there.”

 “I’m not looking with
suspicion at you or anyone. I overheard a few of the older men out on deck and
they were having their own kangaroo court. I don’t know who they were talking
about but it wasn’t pleasant what they had planned to do with him if they discovered
his identity.”

 “I’d help if I was sure, but
if you think about it seriously, it’s almost impossible to finger anyone.”

 “Did you see anything when
you were coming or going from the tween decks? I know the light was poor but
you could surely see some of the couples?”

 “I’m not sure which of the
girls it was that was killed but I did see one fellow going far up along the
bales because most of the business was done just near the ladder down from the
mast house; they were nearly on top of one another. He was going up where her
body was found and I’d know the girl if I saw her face.”

 “Are you sure you’d recognize
the girl if you saw her face?”

“Look Henry, you go take your
shower. I’m saying no more, it’s too fucking serious. I just can’t implicate
someone just like that.”

Although still a suspect,
Henry’s policeman’s instincts made him feel that Conrad’s reaction to the
murder was genuine. But then again, he knew from his police training that
psychopaths could often be cunning and could also be convincing actors.

 

 The mate was in with the
captain when the chief radio officer came to the door.

 “I have word back from the
authorities in Colombo sir.” He walked in and handed him the paper.

 “Thanks, that was quick.” He
read the reply and handed it to the chief officer. “See what you think of that?”

 He read it down and handed
it back to the captain. “At least they’ve given us an option; the final
decision rests with you sir.”

 “Yes I know, doesn’t it
always, but this involves just more than a quick ‘we’ll return or keep on
course’. A girl and her family are the subject and the trauma of never having a
grave to grieve at or place to lay flowers would be depriving these people of
the basic succor of life.”

 The mate stood and looked at
the distress of this noble man. “I’m going to the chief steward and the chief
engineer and we’ll go look at the body and decide if it is at all possible to
keep this corpse for another four days in any remotely decent condition with
this heat and humidity. We’ll report back to you shortly sir.”

“Thank you,” the captain
replied.

The mate explained the
situation to the other two and they went to the hospital. The body was laid out
on a rubber sheet; the smell was overpowering and flesh was decomposing
rapidly. Large cockroaches crawled out of the nose and mouth and the chief
steward had to put a handkerchief to his face and walk to the door.

“My God, the deterioration
since this morning is rapid. It would be impossible to keep the body here for
another four days, it would be immoral. I believe the proper thing is burial at
sea as soon as possible.”

 The mate noted the chief
engineer’s opinion. “You know I will have to keep a record of this for the
inquest.”

“And you chief?” he asked the
steward who had his head out of the door.

“I say the poor girl’s body
should be committed to the sea as soon as possible.”

 “Thank you sir, I’ll note
that.”

 The chief engineer touched a
hook just under her nose with a pencil. There were more of them stuck around
her ears and mouth. “Look at these hooks around her face.”

The flesh was swollen and
decomposing and the hooks were imbedded in the rotting flesh.

The mate wrote some notes in
his book.

”Christ,” the engineer
remarked, “whoever did this is one sick man.”

 They left and locked the
door. When they returned to the captain Pippa was there and he was instructing
her in what she should do for her safety. He told her to lock her door at all
times and if she went on the bridge a little later than normal, to call him and
he’d see her to her cabin. He said that under no circumstances was she to
wander around after dark unless she was accompanied by an officer. He stood up
to see her to her cabin and bade her goodnight as she locked her door. He then
returned to speak with the officers.

“Now gentlemen, what
conclusion have you come to?”

 The mate acted as spokesman.
“We have all decided having taken into consideration the deteriorating
condition of the body that it would be impossible to keep her for another four
days. It’s my opinion sir is that the boatswain should be ordered to stitch the
body up first thing in the morning and a burial service conducted at noon.”

BOOK: The Atlas Murders
4.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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