'I want a gun,’ he said.
‘La madre.’
‘Where is it?’ Goddard leaned back and could just
reach the head of the dropped fire ax. He set the
pointed side of it on Sparks’ throat. ‘Why not tell me
now? When this goes through your voice box, you’ll
have to point.’
‘I haven’t got one.’
‘I guess I should have told you,’ Goddard said. ‘I’m
short of time.’ He began to press on the ax.
‘If I had a gun, I’d be glad to give it to you.’
‘Sure, I know. And where.’
‘Listen. If you’ll take that thing out of my throat,
maybe I can tell you so you’ll believe me. I hate you. I
hate your guts. I hate all of you arrogant pigs. But if I
had a gun and thought you could stop that murdering
cabrón, I’d give it to you.’
Goddard frowned, but released the pressure on the
ax. ‘Why?’
‘I went into this for the money, because I needed it,
and nobody was going to be hurt. But now it’s gone
bad, so he’s going to leave the whole crew here to
burn.’
‘What about that?’ Goddard gestured toward the
wrecked transmitters.
‘He said he’d gut me. In public. And he would.’
Score another one for the Lind mind, Goddard
thought; public was the operative word. You couldn’t
depend on scaring a Spaniard with death; only with
humiliation. He got up and tossed the ax into one of the
transmitters. ‘Have at it.’
And The Deep Blue Sea — 175
Sparks stared. ‘Just take my word for it? You’re not
going to tie me up?’
‘I haven’t got time,’ Goddard said. ‘Anyway, nobody
that hates me could be all bad.’ He went out and
hurried down the companionway.
He might be taking a chance. If Sparks called Lind,
he and Karen would be dead in the next five minutes,
but he didn’t think he would. In a world of officeseekers
and deodorant commercials, how could you
doubt a posture like that?
Smoke was growing thicker in the passageway on the
crew’s deck, boiling up in dense clouds through the
hatch from below. When Karen opened the door of the
hospital she was coughing with it and tears ran down
her cheeks. They were out of time already; they had to
do something, and now.
‘Sparks didn’t have a gun,’ he said, ‘so we’re down to
the desperation stuff. We’ve got to go for Otto, and
there just may be a way I can do it. As long as he’s in
the middle of the deck, there’s not a prayer, because
it’s at least fifty feet from the corner of the deckhouse,
all in the open, and I’d never make it. But if I can get
him to come toward me—’
‘How?’
If I go out on deck on one side, the men in the welldeck
will see me. They wouldn’t give it away
intentionally, but out of thirty at least ten will keep
looking in that direction, so he’ll know there’s
somebody around the corner. He’ll come over to see,
and if I can hear him I can tell when he’s close enough
to try to jump him.’
‘And you’re a producer?’ She shook her head. ‘Harry,
that man has gone toward that corner, or door, in a
thousand pictures, and the only thing that’s always the
same is that the gun is straight out ahead of him, ready
to shoot. If you were close enough to dance, it wouldn’t
work. But there is a way.’
‘What?’
‘Diversion. It’s just as old, but in this case it’ll do the
trick. We both step out, on opposite sides, but I come
And The Deep Blue Sea — 176
on past the corner so he can see me. He’s certain I’m
dead miles back there in the water, so he’ll freeze just
long enough for you to reach him.’
‘Sure. And that grease gun will be pointed right at
you, so when I land on him he’ll cut you in two.’
‘No. Just before you hit him, I’ll duck back past the
corner. It’ll be only one step.’
He nodded. There was another way, too, that he
could ensure the gun would be off her before a reflex
could trigger it. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but one more thing.
That rail where he is is solid, so if we crawl forward,
the men in the well-deck won’t see us and give it away.
But you stand up two or three steps before you get to
the corner. Give him some preparation, so you won’t
startle him into shooting before he thinks.’
‘Don’t worry, Harry.’ She was supremely confident. ‘I
tell you he’ll freeze.’
He had to have a weapon. They found a twelve-inch
crescent wrench in a locker. It had a brutal heft to it,
which was just what he wanted; it had to be done with
one blow, and he didn’t care if he drove Otto’s skull
into his pelvis. He slipped forward to the messroom
porthole and checked again. The big sailor was still in
the same place.
They stepped out onto the after end of the deck to the
roar and the heat of the fire. It was like a scene from
hell, he thought, but the fury of the squall was
beginning to slacken a little. He chose the starboard
side. That way he’d be running for Otto with the
bulkhead on his left, his right unhampered. They went
in opposite directions, and when they reached the
corners they looked back at each other. She smiled and
gestured with circled thumb and forefinger. He wished
he felt that relaxed; he was beginning to have
butterflies. That was going to be the longest fifty feet in
the world. He dropped to his knees and started to
crawl.
It was awkward because he could use only one hand.
With nothing on but a pair of shorts he had no place to
carry the wrench except in the other, and he couldn’t
let it bump the deck. As he went forward he rehearsed
And The Deep Blue Sea — 177
it in his mind. One stride before he reached Otto, he’d
sing out. The sailor would start to whirl, swinging the
gun, so it would be well off her before the wrench
landed. That was simple enough, but he wasn’t as
certain about the other signal, that to the men in the
well-deck.
Mayr or Lind, or both, would be watching the welldeck
too, and they would kill a lot of men on those
ladders, shooting straight down from the bridge. But if
he could signal them not to rush the minute they saw
him get Otto, they wouldn’t have to file up like ducks in
a shooting gallery. They’d all make it if he could get
them to hold, as if Otto were still there, until he could
go up to the after end of the boat deck and give them
covering fire.
He looked out at the sea. The wind and rain were
lessening all the time now, and he could see the pall of
smoke blowing out to leeward for several hundred
yards. It was only a few more feet to the corner. He was
beginning to tighten up. Suppose Otto happened to be
looking this way just as he peeked around the corner?
Well, for Christ’s sake, what could he do about it? Why
get in an uproar over something entirely out of his
control?
He was there. With his hand as near the deck as he
could get it, he leaned forward and peered around. Otto
was in profile fifty feet away, staring unwaveringly
down into the well-deck in front of him. His belly was
against the rail, and though his forearms were resting
on it, he held the weapon at ready, in both hands, with
a finger inside the trigger guard. Goddard took a long,
deep breath, and waited, conscious of that impulse to
yawn which in a situation like this was just the opposite
of what it implied.
Thirty more seconds went by. She was giving him
plenty of time to be set. But not too much, Danish doll;
this can get pretty hairy. Now! Otto’s head was turning;
he was looking to the left. The men in the well-deck had
seen her. He tried to breathe against the tightness in
his chest, and gathered himself to leap. Then Karen
Brooke stepped out into the open at the other corner of
the deck house. He stared, and almost forgot to go into
And The Deep Blue Sea — 178
action, with an impression he must be as goggle-eyed
as Otto. She’d taken off Antonio’s jacket.
She was facing Otto completely nude above the nylon
briefs, and if that weren’t enough to nail any normal
male under ninety-five solidly to the deck, she was also
as wet and dripping as if she’d just emerged from the
sea, and drowned strands of blonde hair were plastered
over her face. She made a beautiful ghost, he thought,
but he almost felt sorry for Otto as he got into gear at
last and started running softly across the long expanse
of open deck. It seemed almost superfluous to hit him.
But if Otto was no longer a problem, the men in the
well-deck were something else. As he ran, presumably
in full view of them, he made a slashing Cut! gesture
with both arms and then pushed toward them with his
palms, but not a damned one of them had even seen
him. And suppose he couldn’t even get Otto to whirl
and swing that gun off her? Take him by the shoulders
and turn him, like a manikin in Macy’s window? It was
less than ten feet now, and he was driving.
‘Otto!’ he snapped, and whacked the rail with the
wrench at the same time. That did it.
The big sailor came unglued at last, and started to
wheel, and at the same time Karen jumped back out of
sight around the corner. He swung down with the
wrench, getting the wrist into it at the end, and it made
a sound he was afraid Lind might hear on the bridge.
Otto simply collapsed, two hundred pounds of bone and
cabled muscle folding up and settling to the deck like a
deflating pneumatic toy. There was a good chance he’d
killed him, and while it might bother him later, at the
moment he didn’t seem to care.
Strangely, the gun didn’t fire at all. With his left hand
he grabbed it from the other’s lifeless grasp before it
had a chance to drop. He turned. The men in the welldeck
were catching up now, and when they saw him
with the gun, two or three started to break for the
ladders. He made a savage gesture of the arm: Back!
But they didn’t get it fast enough. There was a shout
from the bridge, followed by the crash of a gun. He
dropped the wrench, pointed the gun out toward the
And The Deep Blue Sea — 179
sea, and pulled the trigger. It was on single fire, so he
shot twice more.
He made the gesture again, and this time they all got
it. Nobody had fallen at the shot from the bridge, but
now he saw Barset, at his third shot, clap a hand
dramatically to his chest, grimace with agony, sway,
and fall forward on his face. Trust a con man to pick it
up, but, God, what a ham.
The men were shifting back now, watching him with
the same fear and hatred they had Otto, so it should be
safe as far as the bridge was concerned. He gave it to
them in pantomime: pointing to his watch, holding up
five fingers, then to himself, pointing aft, up, and then
swinging the gun forward with a raking motion. There
was no way they could signal they understood, but they
should have it. He dropped beside Otto and fanned him
for spare clips. He had two.
He waved to the crew, and ran around the corner.
Karen was waiting for him. She had the jacket on again
and looked blandly innocent.
‘Now I know what they mean by overkill,’ he said, as
they hurried aft.
‘Well, you were taking a terrible chance. And when I
guaranteed he’d freeze, I meant it.’
‘Yeah, but didn’t you consider I might choke up too?’
‘Oh, come. The worldly Mr. Goddard?’
They stopped near the after corner of the deckhouse
while he told her what he was going to do. Then he
thought of something else.
‘I’ve got to get Spivak out of the engine room,’ he
said. ‘They can’t start the fire pump or close the sea
intakes even after they get here. And we need that
gun.’
‘But if they hear any shooting down here, they’ll all
come down.’
‘I think I know how we can do it.’ He told her while
he made a quick inspection of the gun. He knew
nothing at all about automatic weapons, and it was of
European manufacture. Precious seconds flew by while
he found out how to change clips, and then, with the
And The Deep Blue Sea — 180
gun empty, experimented with the settings to discover
which way it was on safety. Then the remaining one
had to be continuous fire. He shoved in a full clip, and
handed Karen the other two. ‘Hold these for me. I’ll be
right back.’
He ran in through the smoke in the passage, and up
the inside companionway to the wireless room. Sparks
had closed the transmitters, and was seated at his desk
with his head in his hands. When Goddard spoke from
the doorway, he turned. He looked at the gun with no
expression of any kind, and said nothing.
‘The crew’ll be back here in a few minutes,’ Goddard
said. ‘If they get control of the ship again, it’s not going
to be any love feast, and they won’t believe you wanted
out of the mess unless I tell ‘em.’
Sparks nodded. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve got to get Spivak out of the engine room.’ He
indicated the telephone. ‘Can you call him from here?’
‘No. The only master control is on the bridge.’
‘Well, there’s another way. Come down to the grating
on the crew’s deck and call out to him. Tell him Lind’s
launching the boat and is going to leave him. I’ll take it
from there. A deal?’
‘Let’s go,’ Sparks said. They ran down the
companionway. When they reached the crew’s deck,
flames were now shooting up in the smoke boiling from
the hatchway. The shelter deck was afire.
‘Make it fast,’ Goddard said. He pulled open the steel
door to the engine room casing and stood out of sight
to one side. Sparks stepped in on the grating. ‘Spivak!’
he called out. ‘You’d better get up here. They’re
launching the boat.’
From where he was, Goddard couldn’t see in. He
waited. The fire continued to mount around the ladder
from the shelter deck, and paint was bursting into
flame above it here in the passage. Smoke was choking
him. Sparks stepped back into view.
‘He’s coming,’ he whispered. ‘On the last ladder.
Gun’s in his dungarees.’
And The Deep Blue Sea — 181
Goddard nodded, and gestured for him to move back.
Spivak lunged into view through the doorway. Goddard
shoved the muzzle of the gun into his side. ‘Hold it,
Spivak!’ The oiler gasped, and stiffened. Goddard
pulled the Luger from his waistband, and tossed it to
Sparks. ‘Hang onto that for a minute.’
Spivak shot a look of hatred at the operator. Goddard
prodded him again with the muzzle of the gun and
jerked his head down the passage. ‘Get going!’ Spivak
hesitated for a second, but turned and marched ahead
of him. They reached the open door of the hospital.
‘Inside,’ Goddard ordered.
Spivak turned. His eyes were terrified as he gestured
toward the flames and smoke boiling up at the end of
the passage. ‘But—but—she’s afire.’
‘I’m glad you called that to my attention,’ Goddard
said. He put a hand in Spivak’s face and shoved. The
oiler shot in against the bunks. ‘Wish us luck.’
He pulled the door shut and dropped the padlock
through the hasp, but didn’t snap it. Running back
down the passage, he gestured to Sparks. They leaped
out on deck and around to the port side away from the
searing waves of heat from number three hatch. Karen
was waiting. Goddard took the Luger from Sparks and
gave it to her.
‘When they come up the ladder, give this to Mr.
Svedberg,’ he said swiftly. ‘Tell him I’ll need help up
there, as fast as I can get it. Maybe they can get up
through the chartroom. Spivak’s in the hospital, and if
they can’t control the fire, let him out, but I don’t think
he’ll be any better off when they get their hands on
him. And tell them Sparks had nothing to do with
leaving them here.’
She nodded, her eyes apprehensive. She knew what
he meant: it was in case he didn’t make it down from
there himself.
‘I promised,’ he said. ‘And they might get to the radio
room before I have a chance to tell ‘em. Let’s go,
Sparks.’
He grabbed the two spare clips, and they plunged
back inside and ran up to the officers’ deck. Smoke was
And The Deep Blue Sea — 182
boiling up the companionway now, and pouring into the
passages above. ‘Lock yourself in till they’ve all got the
word,’ he told Sparks. The Latin nodded, and went
toward the radio room. Goddard wheeled and hurried
down the passage toward the exit at the after end of
the deck, feeling the butterflies again.
And The Deep Blue Sea — 183
14
He peered out. There was nobody in sight. Over the
noise of the fire he could hear a metallic banging from
the boat deck above him. It had been more than five
minutes now, and he had to hurry before the men below
decided something had happened to him and made a
break for it. He set the gun on continuous fire, but was
hampered by the spare clips; he had no way to carry
them except in a hand. He stepped out, cautiously
watching the openings at the tops of the two ladders,
slipped over to the port one, and started up. His head
came level with the deck above. He peered over.
Directly ahead of him near the forward end of the
deck, the bos’n and Karl were wrecking the port
lifeboats. The covers and strongbacks had been
removed, and Karl was standing up in the forward one
using the pointed side of a fire ax to destroy the
flotation units. The after one already had a long hole
cut out of the bottom along the turn of the bilge, and
the bos’n was squatted on the deck below the forward
one with the torch, doing the same to it. Karl’s back
was to him, and the bos’n was wearing goggles as he
guided the torch. Goddard’s view of the starboard side
was cut off by the steel gable of the engine room
skylight. Its high point was about three feet above the
deck, and it was only a few feet forward of him.
And The Deep Blue Sea — 184
He shot another glance toward Karl and the bos’n,
slid up over the edge of the deck, and snaked his way
toward it, crawling on his forearms as he carried the
gun and spare clips. He was behind it now. He dropped
the clips, took the gun in both hands, and peered over
the edge of it. He had a clear view of the whole boat
deck from here. The two starboard lifeboats also had
their covers and strongbacks removed, and the after
one was swung out in its davits and lowered until its
gunwales were just below the level of the deck. Lind
was standing in it, stowing something. Mayr was near
the wheelhouse on the starboard side of the bridge,
looking down into the forward well-deck with the
machine pistol in his hand.
Goddard took another deep breath against the tight
band around his chest, raised to his knees, and started
shooting. He fired a burst of three into the canvas
dodger where Mayr’s legs should be, swung the gun
right, and loosed three more into the starboard lifeboat
where Lind was standing. The hulls were flying out of
the gun, some of them still in the air and the noise
assaulting his eardrums as he swept the gun left and
raked a burst across the port lifeboats. Karl dived
headfirst into the forward one, and the bos’n dropped
the torch and hit the deck behind a cradle.
Goddard swung right again. Mayr was no longer in
view on the wing of the bridge, but he loosed another
burst into the canvas above where he should be as the
gun swung on past onto the starboard boats. Lind had
dived into the bottom of the one where he’d been
standing, and now was raising his head above the level
of the deck, lifting a gun. Goddard pulled the trigger
again, and on the second shot the clip was empty. Lind
ducked back.
Goddard dropped behind the steel wall of the
skylight, yanked out the empty clip, and shoved in a
fresh one. A gun crashed somewhere forward of him,
and a bullet screamed off the skylight just over his
head. He slid over three feet, and peered around the
edge. The bos’n was prone behind the lifeboat cradle,
his face and arm in view as he raised the gun for
another shot. Goddard put a burst into the deck beside
And The Deep Blue Sea — 185
him, throwing splinters, and swung fast to the right.
Mayr was raising over the canvas dodger on the bridge.
He shot. The bullet gouged the deck just to Goddard’s
left. Goddard fired, and Mayr dropped from sight. Still
swinging, Goddard fired a string across the top of the
boat Lind was in. Lind was still out of sight. He jerked
the gun around and threw three more shots into the
cradle in front of the bos’n. Karl had never appeared at
all since the din began. Goddard put another short
burst through the canvas dodger above Mayr, and that
clip was empty.
All the crew should be up out of the well-deck now,
and if he could keep them pinned down for another
minute, help would come pouring out of the
wheelhouse behind them. He’d dropped and was
yanking out the empty clip when his whole back turned
to ice and his mind shouted the warning he should have
had seconds ago. Lind! He’d never reappeared. And
from that partially lowered boat he could swing down
to the rail of the deck below.
He swiveled and saw the face of the big mate already
above the level of the deck just feet behind him, one
hand out in front of it with the .45 ready to shoot him in
the back of the head. In a continuation of the same
turning movement, he threw the gun backhand. It hit
the hand just as the .45 went off and then slammed on
into Lind’s face between the ladder railings. Lind
dropped back down the ladder. Goddard plunged
headfirst down on top of him. His momentum carried
the two of them off the ladder, to wheel out and down
onto the steel deck below, and even as they were falling
he was conscious of shouts and the sound of guns going
off above them.
They landed with a bone-jarring impact and rolled.
Goddard broke free. The .45 had been knocked from
Lind’s hand, and he had to get to it first; against the
great strength and catlike reflexes of this man he had
no chance at all in a bare-handed fight. Lind would beat
him to the deck and choke him to death in minutes. He
looked frantically around and saw it behind the ladder.
Lind was already bouncing up. The thrown gun had
opened a cut on his check and blood was streaming
And The Deep Blue Sea — 186
from it below the cold light of the eyes. He lunged at
Goddard. Goddard sidestepped and hit him on the side
of the neck hard enough to drop a lesser man, but Lind
merely staggered for an instant and whirled to come for
him again.
Goddard reached behind the ladder for the .45. He
had it in his fingers when Lind hit him from the side.
They went down, and the gun skated and bounced
toward the scupper on the port side of the deck. They
rolled. Goddard smashed at his face, and even in all this
madness he was conscious of the smoke pouring out of
the passage beside them and the shouts of the men on
the boat deck above. He got a knee into Lind’s stomach,
slammed a fist into his throat, and managed to break
free from those terrible arms once more. He plunged to
his feet and ran toward the gun.
He scooped it up, but was going too fast on the wet
and slippery deck and couldn’t stop or turn. He was
wheeling, still out of control and going on toward the
rail, when the big man caught him from behind. His
feet were snatched off the deck as Lind whirled him
about and lifted him to throw him over the rail. Lind’s
hip crashed into the rail, and with all of Goddard’s
weight and his own pulling them outward, his feet
skidded backward on the deck and they both wheeled
over it and fell into the sea.
It was over thirty feet, past the promenade and
crew’s deck. They hit the surface with agonizing impact
and went far under, still locked together. Goddard
fought to break the grip of those arms. He caught a
thumb, pulled back and down on it until he felt it break.
The arm relaxed for a moment. He pushed, and then
kicked, and was free, already losing consciousness as
he rose to the surface. He gulped for air. The deck
above was full of men, and he saw Karen, screaming.
Then he was pushed under, and Lind had his legs
locked about him, and he knew it was the end; they
were like steel. He hadn’t got enough air, and his
struggles were growing weaker.
Darkness was closing in on him when somewhere far
off through the singing in his ears he heard a cracking
sound and then another as though his ribs were
And The Deep Blue Sea — 187
beginning to break. Then, strangely, the massive legs
went limp and he was free and drifting upward to
flounder helplessly on the surface. He took a deep
breath and opened his eyes. The great blond head was
awash beside him, beginning to drop away below the
surface, and the water around it was stained with
blood. He looked up. Harald Svedberg was above him
on the corner of the boat deck with a gun in his hand.
Two sailors jumped in beside him from the crew’s deck,
and somebody was throwing a line. Goddard turned and
looked down and saw the giant body make one last
convulsive movement as Eric Lind drifted from his
sight.
The sailors grabbed him and made the line fast under
his arms. One of them grinned. ‘Don’t you ever get
enough of this stupid ocean?’
They hauled him up and lifted him over the rail. His
strength was returning now, and he was able to stand.
Water ran out of his hair. His shorts were ripped all the
way up one side, and his hands were battered and
bleeding. The fire roared on from number three hatch,
but two hoses were throwing water into it now, and he
could hear more hard jets beating against the
bulkheads inside the deckhouse. Men pounded him on
the back as they unbent the line about his chest. Karen
Brooke was looking at him with tears streaming down
her face.
‘I—I wonder what you would think,’ she said in a tiny
voice, ‘if you ever saw people just walking aboard a
ship on a g-g-gangplank.’ She broke up then into sobs
and laughter.
* * *
They began to gain on it, and in an hour they knew they
were going to win. The fire in the shelter deck was out,
and three hoses were pouring tons of water into
number three hold where there was now more smoke
than fire.
Mayr and the bos’n were dead, shot by Harald
Svedberg in the fight on the boat deck. Mayr had been
wounded in the legs by one of the bursts from
And The Deep Blue Sea — 188
Goddard’s gun, but had tried to shoot Svedberg as the
men ran up through the chartroom and out onto the
bridge. Karl had surrendered, and was locked in the
hospital along with Spivak and Otto, who had regained
consciousness. Sparks was allowed to remain free, and
was assessing the damage to the radio equipment. The
main and high-frequency transmitters were beyond
repair, but he thought he could have the emergency in
operation by the following afternoon.
By eleven o’clock there were no more flames, only
dense steam and smoke rising from the hatch. Karen
had gone up to her cabin to get dressed, and Goddard
was watching as the crew continued to throw water
into the hold. One of the sailors looked at him in his
torn shorts, and shook his head.
‘Well, men, I guess we got to take up another
collection for this Hollywood big-shot.’
‘Yeah,’ another said, with a grin. ‘Talk about
schooner-rigged. Every time you see him his ass is
hanging out somewhere else.’
‘If I ever get back there,’ Goddard said, ‘I’m going to
start a new status symbol. Owning your own
underwear.’
The chief reported that everything below was under
control and they could get under way. Sparks told them
about the rendezvous with the Phoenix, so Mr.
Svedberg said they would steam north for two hours
before resuming course. Nobody had any desire to
encounter the craft.
Twenty minutes later, the Leander vibrated
hesitantly, as though testing herself, and began to
move slowly ahead. Goddard mounted to the
promenade deck. Karen Brooke was just emerging from
her cabin. Her hair was still wet, but she had put on a
dress and some makeup.
‘Hey,’ he said, ‘what happened to the better half of
my combat team?’
‘She’s just become a devout civilian. And you can
quote me.’
And The Deep Blue Sea — 189
‘I can do better than that.’ He grinned. ‘I’m going to
join you.’
They went into Madeleine Lennox’ cabin, where,
several years ago, it seemed, they had decided they
should try to save her life. She still lay quietly,
apparently in the same position, covered with her
sheet. Goddard felt her pulse, looked at Karen, and
nodded.
‘She’s okay.’
‘And just think,’ Karen said, ‘sometime late this
afternoon, she’ll wake up and ask what happened.’
* * *
Captain Steen awoke late that night, but was ill and in
pain from whatever Lind had given him, so it was three
days before he was up. Until then, Harald Svedberg
and the second mate stood watch-and-watch. Goddard
found an ink pad in the captain’s desk and he and Mr.
Svedberg did what he thought was a fairly creditable
job of taking Mayr’s fingerprints before he was buried.
The third mate had also started the job of questioning
the remaining members of the plot.
‘None of them know very much, or say they don’t,’ he
told Goddard the second day after they were under way
again. ‘I think, actually, they’re telling the truth; Lind
kept it all under his hat. Sparks doesn’t even have any
idea what the Phoenix was, where she was from, or
where they were going to take Mayr. Lind just gave him
some fake call letters and a list of illegal frequencies
they changed every day, and everything was coded. It
was all handled in radiotelegraph, of course. We don’t
have a radiotelephone. He said the other man was a
good operator, and that’s all he knows.’
The rendezvous was supposed to be at night, Mr.
Svedberg went on, with the Phoenix showing no lights.
There would be another engine room breakdown rigged
by Spivak, and Mayr and Krasicki would be slipped off
the after well-deck on a rubber raft, to be picked up by
the Phoenix after the ship had gone on. They all swore
nobody was supposed to be killed. That could be true
enough, the third mate thought, but there was no doubt
And The Deep Blue Sea — 190
Lind and Mayr were prepared for it if it became
necessary to judge from the number of guns they
carried.
And where did you lay the blame for the fact that it
had gone wrong, Goddard wondered, with the result
that now six men were dead, one of them, Koenig,
entirely innocent? On his casual remark about the
direction of the scene? On Madeleine Lennox’ careless
meddling? No, the most probable answer was that Lind
was unstable, as Karen insisted; he was paranoid, or on
the borderline, and any trivial remark might have
triggered the whole ghastly mess.
The Leander plowed on, shorthanded, scarred, and
smelling of smoke, but she would make Manila only a
little over a day late. Captain Steen took over a watch,
and Antonio Gutierrez was moved up to be the dining
room steward. Sparks got the emergency transmitter in
operation on the second day, located a ship that would
relay for him, and they rejoined the rest of the world.
Pleas for news poured in from the wire services by the
hour, and Goddard could imagine the furors in the
world press.
The third evening after dinner Goddard mixed a tall
gin and tonic and went out on the forward end of the
promenade deck with Karen Brooke to watch the
sunset. They were leaning on the rail struck silent by
the vast orchestration of color when Captain Steen
came by and remarked for what must have been the
twentieth time that it had been an awful thing.
Then he regarded the drink with pious disapproval,
and said, ‘It seems to me, Mr. Goddard, you ought to be
down on your knees thanking the Lord you’re alive,
instead of drinking that stuff.’
‘I expect you’re right, Captain,’ Goddard agreed.
Then, because the impulse was irresistible, he added, ‘I
imagine when we get to Manila, there’ll be quite an
investigation.’ Steen shuddered.
‘I mean,’ Goddard went on innocently, ‘what with a
conspiracy, a fire, a mutiny, and a fake SOS. Probably
be quite a bit of paperwork.’
And The Deep Blue Sea — 191
Steen departed. Karen smiled at Goddard and shook
her head. ‘You shouldn’t do that to the poor man.’
‘Let him find his own sunset.’
They fell silent for a moment, and then she said, ‘You
claim I saved your life, and now you’ve saved mine. Is it
a standoff?’
‘Not a chance,’ Goddard replied. ‘I won going away; I
saved the best one. Ask any of the crew.’
‘Well, they’re sailors. There is a certain amount of
prejudice.’
He looked around at her. ‘What about that old
Chinese belief of responsibility? Do we cancel each
other, or is it doubled?’
‘That’s an interesting point. What do you think?’
‘I don’t know,’ Goddard said. ‘But when we get to
Manila, we could run over to Hong Kong and look into
it.’
‘I have to go to work.’ She hesitated. ‘But I suppose I
could get another week’s leave.’
‘Then it’s a deal,’ he said. ‘And don’t feel you’ll be
ashamed of me; I’m sure the crew will give me another
pair of pants.’
She laughed. ‘Well, I’ll think about it.’
‘Forget that line,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I’m out of
practice and it’s hard for me to say anything I mean.
And what I meant was simply that I wish you would.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m beginning to break the code.
Now, tell me about your daughter.’
For the first time in five months he could. It was
twenty minutes later when Madeleine Lennox came
around the corner of the deckhouse looking for him.
She stopped, arrested by something in the attitude of
the two figures leaning on the rail, and shrugged. You
won a few, you lost a few. She turned, and went aft in
search of Barset.
And The Deep Blue Sea — 192
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