The Atlas Murders (21 page)

 Back down in his cabin there
was humidity and the stale smell of human bodies. The need for a breath of
fresh air and to feel the breeze along the ship’s deck was paramount in this
confined existence. To everyone’s relief, there was a noticeable easing in the
ship’s pitching as the evening approached. The days and nights that followed
were hot, but a westerly wind kept the ship cooler; sleep was less fitful and
there was a noticeable cheerfulness among the crew.

Henry wandered down the
crew’s alleyway on a few occasions when he knew Tukola was playing darts and
his roommate was on watch. On one particular occasion, he passed the cabin and
the door was open. Seeing no one around, he looked in. The room was neatly kept
like most seamen’s cabins as they were subject to inspection at any time by the
chief officer. He was tempted to go in but realized how useless a few minutes
search would be, and if he was caught he’d be reported as trying to steal from
his shipmates. The frustration got to him at times but he resolved to be patient
- a single slip up now could be detrimental to the whole investigation.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

 It was fifteen hundred hours
when they dropped anchor in the straights of Colombo. The ship’s agent came in
the first launch and left shortly after, taking the captain ashore. There were
ships anchored all round; rusting tramp liberty ships, all types of dry cargo
vessels, small coasters that had survived the war and beautiful, sparkling
clean passenger liners on the Australian run.

The boat girls were climbing
the accommodation ladder and making their way around the decks carrying their
baskets of wares for sale. The small boats that ferried them from shore to the
ships waited not far off, their young man handler usually spending his time
fishing. The baskets, although they had some small trinkets for sale were only
a ruse; these girls ended up in the crews’ cabins selling sexual favors. If
there wasn’t money - any denomination would be acceptable - they would accept
the next best trade item; cigarettes. Henry was standing in the alleyway where
they disembarked from the accommodation ladder. He was watching for the red
cloth hanging from a basket. All the girls looked much the same, petite,
graceful and beautiful. They wore colorful light cotton dresses and shapeless
loose tops over baggy leggings. He noticed one who was taller that the others.
She had a demure air about her. She stood looking around when she stepped onto
the deck. Henry noticed the red cloth immediately and approached her. She
stopped and smiled a welcoming and warm full lipped beam. Henry returned the
smile.

 “Would you have a Buddha?”

 “I will come to your cabin
if you want to buy some of my nice things,” she said, as she ran her hand
through the basket lifting up some gaudy necklaces and bangles.

 “This way. I hope my roommate
isn’t there.” The cabin was empty, so he beckoned her to come in. He could hear
giggles and other noises coming from cabins up and down the alleyway. He closed
the door and put the catch on it so Conrad couldn’t open it. If he had come
along, he would have taken it for granted that Henry had one of the boat girls
for company.

She laid her basket down and
held out her hand.

“I’m Dhanya, please meet you
Henry.”

 “You know my name?”

 “Yes, I was told your name
and what you look like. A very nice handsome man I think.”

 “You are a very beautiful
girl and I want to thank you for doing this for me.”

 “I have your letter here
Henry.”

 Henry was expecting her to
hand him the letter, but he got a big surprise as he watched her lift her loose
top and pull down her leggings. He looked down and sticking out of her thin
cotton panties was the envelope. She pulled it out and laughingly sniffed it
before handing it to him.

“Nice smell, you like Henry?”

 “Wonderful, the spy with the
lovely panties,” he joked.

 Slowly, she removed her
panties.

“You like me, must hurry
before ship go.”

 “But Dhanya, you work for
the police?”

 “No Henry, I work for me but
my friend in police ask me to do this for him. All other girls know me, so not
suspicious. Now, you like make love me. No money, just make love. I feel very
much I want you fuck me.”

The vision of her sensuous
nakedness made Henry’s lust run wild. He quickly undressed and lifted her onto
the top bunk. She was expert and held Henry at bay until she was ready for him to
enter her. She straddled him. At first her movements were slow and deliberate. She
gradually increased the tempo until both could hold back no more.

Afraid of being disturbed,
and eager to read the letter she had so imaginatively delivered, Henry gestured
to her to climb out of the bunk and wasting no time, they both got dressed.

 Henry felt ashamed that he
had no ready money to give her. “Oh dear,” he muttered to himself as he opened
a drawer and took out a carton of Lucky Strike. Dhanya was tidying herself in
the mirror. He picked up her basket and dropped in the carton.

“Thank you Henry. I must go
do some business before ship sail. Not want to sail on ship, too many men. Not
able give all fuck!”

 He watched her trot down the
alleyway her basket tucked under her arm as he picked up the letter and headed
to a quiet part of the ship to read it. He saw there was no name on the
envelope, and the letter itself was typed. His face turned deathly pale as he
started to read:

Dear Henry,

 I hope this letter
reaches you. The situation here has turned very precarious since you left. The young
girl Nilima was found dead in the alleyway at the back of The Blue Orchid on the
afternoon your ship sailed. Her body was partly concealed but her small bag had
been deliberately put under the body, because if it had been seen it would have
been stolen. Now whoever did this had a motive because your name and the
address of the ship’s agent in Melbourne was in the bag. I’m almost certain the
person who killed Nilima was not your man; there were no similarities to the
other murders and Nilima was stabbed through the heart, not strangled like all
the other girls.

Shocked to the core, Henry
stared blankly into space; several minutes passed before he was composed enough
to read on.

The matron was taken in
for questioning and she said she saw you there with Nilima the night before,
but she doesn’t know what time you or Nilima left as she fell asleep and didn’t
wake until early next morning. Wollf and I have a dilemma because we can’t
disclose your true identity. To tell the local police chief here would be the
same as publishing it in the daily paper - there is no such thing as
confidentiality in the Indian police force. The chief of police has issued a
warrant for your arrest. It is lucky your ship had sailed or you’d be
languishing here in a Bombay prison awaiting trial which could take anything up
to twelve months. Then he went to the court to get an arrest warrant for you
served at Colombo when you arrive there. The British consul had his barristers
delay it as long as they could in the courts, but it’s been sent to Colombo and
is there now. The British consul there has been advised to have the court
proceedings delayed as long as possible, so hopefully, your ship will have
sailed before this warrant becomes enforceable. If you are arrested there the
extradition to India is only a formality, but you are safe once you leave that
jurisdiction. However, I don’t know your ships full itinerary, but you would
not be safe in Pakistan or Bangladesh. So if your ship is coming back to any of
these countries you better not be on her.

Henry, I can say almost
with certainty that I know who was behind the killing of Nilima. It most
certainly was the work of the Lord and his henchmen. He had the perfect motive:
he would have known that getting you implicated in this crime would mean our
whole investigation would collapse.

However, and almost
unbelievably, it has since become clear that Oswyn Welland is not the killer.
Our man tailing him said he didn’t leave the tea plantation until six hundred
hours on the day the ship sailed, and he only joined the ship an hour before
sailing, as you probably know. The reason we can be sure of his innocence is because
there was another girl killed the night before the ship sailed. Her body was
found two days after the ship had left Bombay after her family reported her
missing. She had been working the dock area the same as the girls we saw, only
this one was very young and had only been working there a short time. She
wasn’t known to the other girls. Her body was found concealed under bales of
jute. Her killing had all the hallmarks of the other murders. She was beaten
and strangled by two strong hands; so savage her neck was broken. A pierced
earring was torn from her ear as was a small nose ring. Her mouth was stuffed
with cloth ripped from her garments; her vagina was also stuffed with cloth. And
she had been brutally raped. There were fish hooks stuck along her nose and
ears and part of the lip of her vagina was cut away. This was a most vicious
attack on a young defenseless girl. Her name was Moyna Jahnavi Padnesh.

Henry took a number of very
deep breaths before reading the final part of Fokir’s report.

So Oswyn Welland could not possibly have been this
poor girl’s killer. And here is the really tragic bit, Henry. This means that
the Lord, in trying to protect his son, whom he obviously had his doubts about,
had Nilima murdered in vain.

I am truly sorry to be the
bearer of such terrible news, but there is one small positive to come out of
this tragedy: It looks like you have only three suspects to focus on now.

Good luck Henry.

For security reasons the
letter wasn’t signed.

Henry stood motionless,
staring at the letter in shocked disbelief. Taking a lighter from his pocket, he
lit the paper and watched it burn to a fine ash on the deck. His mind was in
free-fall. My God, he thought; if they arrest me here this whole investigation
is over and the chances of they appointing anyone to take over would be very
slight. Percy fucking Welland! The ruthlessly incompetent bastard; a young life
needlessly snuffed out. A young vibrant, beautiful woman sacrificed on the
altar of wealth and social status. What hope of ever bringing anyone to trial
for Nilima’s brutal murder?

The sickening irony of
someone resorting to murder to preserve their family’s good name was not lost
on Henry…

He looked at his watch; it
was sixteen thirty hours - time to go on duty. They had been docked for one and
a half hours, and probably wouldn’t sail for another couple of hours.

After trying his best to
compose himself so all would appear normal, Henry went back to the cabin. Gary Conrad
was running a comb through his unruly mop of hair.

“Could do with a visit to the
barber,” he said as he turned to Henry.

 “Aye, who does the hair
cutting on this tub?”

 “The A.B. named Mackintosh
is our barber. Not too bad as ship’s barber’s go.”

Henry looked in the mirror at
his blonde locks and heavy mop.

“Could do with a visit to him
myself.”

 Conrad buttoned his white
shirt and knotted his black tie. “By the way, did you enjoy your sex session
with the boat girl? I tried to get in here but you had the catch down. Not that
I blame you or anything. Did you get a good one”?

 “Yeah, she was a little
beauty,” he said with an unconvincing swagger of mock bravado that barely masked
the bitter emotion in his voice.

 “Well, I had to take my one
down to the tween decks and ride her on the bales of jute. The place was like a
brothel down there with squealing and moaning coming from all corners. Any of
the lads sharing had to go below when their mate locked their cabin door. First
come first served, I say.”

Ignoring Conrad’s banter, Henry
looked out the porthole and could see the small boats hovering around waiting
for their girls to disembark before the ship sailed. He had a view to the city
and desperately hoped that he wouldn’t catch sight of a police launch coming
towards the ship. Adjusting his uniform, He went to the saloon to serve dinner
and noticed the captain wasn’t present. He must be still ashore, he thought,
and hoped it wasn’t anything to do with him. If the ship’s agents knew anything
about an arrest warrant and informed the captain, he’d be in serious trouble;
the resulting furore could even mean the start of the investigation unraveling.

He went through the motions
of serving in the saloon. Having no appetite, he skipped his own meal and went
out on deck where he saw the captain’s launch coming to the accommodation
ladder. Once on board the captain spoke to the chief officer. Henry was so
relieved when the chief officer called to some deck hands on the fore deck,
“Get ready to heave up this accommodation ladder, and the rest of you men,
stand by to heave up.

This meant only one thing,
the Rangoon was leaving port, and for now at least, Henry could continue his
mission.