The Atlas Murders (32 page)

After about thirty minutes he
heard the faintest sound of the door handle being turned. He waited
breathlessly as the door slowly opened and in the half-light could just make
out a foot appearing over the weather step. A few seconds later a second foot
appeared. The shadowy figure closed the door behind him. Oswyn’s breath came in
deep intakes against the pounding of his heart as he crouched out of sight behind
the empty bed. The figure stood adjusting his eyes to the gloom and then moved
over towards where the patient was lying. He took the pillow off the other bed
and knelt down, placing the pillow over the unconscious seaman’s face.

Oswyn jumped up.

”Hold it there you murdering
scum.”

The assailant ran for the
door but Oswyn pushed the empty bed up to the door to block his exit. Oswyn
reached the light switch and sure enough, there was Tukola with his knife ready
to use, arm drawn back in a pre-stabbing posture. Oswyn grabbed the marlin
spike and held it up threateningly.

 “Did you drop this on your
first attempt?”

 Tukola moved over to where his
intended victim lay stricken - knife at the ready.

“That spike won’t save you. I
saw you push the seaman down the hold. I have come here to see how he is now in
case you try to kill him before he speaks the truth,” he snarled.

“When he does speak the truth,
you’re the one he’s going to expose as his attacker, and he’ll tell how he saw
you kill the girl in Bombay,” countered Oswyn, angrily.

“What do you know about
Bombay?”

 He lunged at Oswyn - the
knife came dangerously close. Oswyn threw the spike hitting him above the left
eye. He fell backwards momentarily and then pounced again like a wounded lion,
spittle running down his chin. Oswyn side stepped around the bed and drew the
gun.

 ”Another move and you’re a
dead man. I won’t hesitate to shoot you. Time’s running out for you, Tukola. If
I tell how I saw you push this man down the hold the crew will hang you from
the yard arm. They’ll also know you killed those girls on the ship.”

 “You know nothing about who
killed those girls and it is an offence to have a gun. A mutiny offence.”

Groaning with pain, he wiped
the blood running into his eye and after frantically pushing the bed away from
the door, scurried from the room.

 Oswyn checked to see if the patient
was still alive. To his great relief he was, but his breathing was shallow and labored.
He took the pillow that nearly killed the seaman and threw it back on the empty
bed. Then he locked the door and moved the bed and chair back in place.

Sitting down, his mind was in
turmoil. He couldn’t tell anyone about what happened. It would only be his word
against Tukola’s. He had no proof; only what he saw in the hold. And if he was
to tell the captain, he would first have to admit that he hadn’t initially told
him the truth about the incident. Hardly something that would make him appear a
credible witness, he lamented.

The next crewman on watch
duties would be along soon, he reminded himself, as he tried to regain a
semblance of composure.

Oswyn hoped there might be
some developments when they get to Havana, but with the revolution apparently
still in full swing, it would not easy to predict what the law and policing
would be like. He looked at his watch; it was coming up to four hundred hours
and in another six hours they’d be in Panama.

 Flamenco Island was abeam at
eight hundred hours, and then there was a short run in before picking up the
pilot. They entered Miraflores locks and the busy water rose them up from the
dark cavern of the lock to the bright sunshine again. There was an ambulance
waiting on the dockside and the young seaman was carried by the shore medics on
a specially devised stretcher and he was whisked away to hospital.

Henry had gone down and
retrieved the master key from its hiding place. He was ready now to conduct his
search. He thought it was now or never and he took note where Tukola and his
roommate were working. They were both on the forecastle head and would have to
remain there tending the ropes as the little engines known as mules pulled the
ship through the locks. He waited until eleven hundred hours after smoko was
served. All hands were on deck and there was no one in the crew’s alleyway. He
tried the handle and was surprised to find the door was open. He went in and
took out the drawers one by one but wasn’t sure which belonged to Tukola and
which were his roommates. He found nothing incriminating in any of the drawers.
He then pulled out the bottom drawer of the bureau and saw a cigar box tied
with a ribbon. He opened it and his heart almost stopped; it had all the stolen
jewelry and other trophies from the dead girls. He didn’t care if Tukola came
along now, he would kill him with his bare hands. Tucking the box under his
shirt, he replaced the drawer and went back to his cabin.

 Gary was out on deck sightseeing.
He went into the lavatory and bolted the door. Sitting down he opened the box
with trembling hands. Shirley’s ring, he couldn’t mistake the aquamarine
birthstone. He remembered picking it out in the jewelers shop and how delighted
she was when she opened her birthday card and the ring fell out. Then he
noticed Pippa’s chain with the beautiful diamond ring. There were also numerous
small decorative nose piercings from Asian girls, bangles and cheap baubles.
The most hideous were the small dried pieces of flesh cut from their genitals
with hair still attached, and some other withered pieces which looked like
nipples. This is one sick and evil bastard, he thought, he’ll know now when he
misses this box that his game is up. And he’ll know for sure I’m the one who’s
caught him. I’ll have to watch my back for the rest of this trip, another five
days.

Back in the cabin, Henry hid
the box under his mattress and then went to put the key back in its hiding
place. All the hands were on deck looking at the sights going through the
locks.

 At lunch as they sailed
through the Gaillard Cut with its high walled cliffs on both sides where the
builders of this great waterway cut through what is known as Gold Hill. Henry
casually asked the chief steward if there was any mail.

“The ship’s agent won’t come
on board until we get into the locks at the other end of the canal, so if you
have anything to post, give it to me when we enter the first lock.”

 “Thanks chief I’ll have my
post ready then,” he said as he made his way to the pantry.

 Gary came into the pantry
with a container of soup which he’d brought up from the galley. Henry could
tell by his mannerisms that Gary was desperate to tell him something. As they
were leaving the pantry going across the alleyway to the dining saloon, he
grabbed Henry by the arm.

“Who do you think I saw
scowling at me and with a nasty cut over his eye?”

 “Who?”

 “Tukola. Someone planted a
right one on him. Whoever it was, I’d like to shake his hand.”

 “Me too.”

When they finished saloon
duty
they
went below for their lunch; there was no sign of any deck hands, they were back
working on deck. Gary was still buoyed up about Tukola’s eye.

“I wonder who hit him. I’m
telling you Henry, it’s a beauty, a real Joe Louis punch he must have got.”

 The second cook came in with
the pantry boy carrying their lunches. Having overheard Gary’s remark about
Tukola’s eye
,
he smiled at them
through crooked teeth.

 “I don’t know who hit him
but whoever he was I’d like to thank him. Apparently, Tukola is claiming he
walked into a door, His roommate said he had no black eye when they turned in
last night, so it must have happened sometime during the night.”

 Henry spoke between
mouthfuls of food.

“I think there are strange
things happening on this ship. Who was watching the hospital just the
apprentices?”

“Yeah, trumped up the galley
boy. The apprentices were doing it in four hour shifts, and if that Tukola
bastard had tried anything, those lads wouldn’t take any nonsense from him.”

 Gary was all excited to
learn that so many of the crew disliked Tukola.

Henry went on deck as they
sailed through Gatun Lake. It was an enchanting sight with the tops of trees
and hills jutting above the water and beautiful violet flowers and the verdant
green leaves of water hyacinths floating on the shimmering surface. The
afternoon was hot and humid with a relentless sun mirroring off the calm water.

Tukola’s eye injury was
puzzling Henry. Would he have tried to go into the hospital to finish the job
of killing the young seaman, and being confronted by an apprentice, have
sustained his injury, he pondered. He decided he would like to see the injury
and judge for himself; find out if it was caused by a fist or some kind of
weapon.

He looked out across the lake
and knew that with another hour’s sailing a letter from Danny could prove to be
the culmination of this whole investigation. The box with its grisly contents
was testament to the horrors and the suffering of Tukola’s victims. There was a
hatred building within him that Henry knew he should control to enable him to
conduct the conclusion of the case in a professional manner. He saw the men
coming off deck to go for their smoko and he would now see Tukola’s eye for
himself. Tukola was walking towards him and Henry stood and brazenly looked at
the eye as he passed. Henry knew as he looked at the severe cut and bruising on
the eyebrow and the closed and swollen eye that this was the result of a blow
from a weapon of some kind.

He went onto the bridge with
the smoko for the officers and pilot. The ship was approaching the entrance of
Gatun Locks. He had a feeling of euphoria standing in the wheelhouse looking out
over the foredeck at the wonderful sight of the open Lock gates.

“Excuse me steward, you’re blocking
the quartermaster’s view. He’s steering by sight now, thank you.”

 Embarrassed, Henry moved
from in front of the wheelman. He could see the ship’s agent standing at the
lock with his briefcase in hand. He ran down to get his letters to give to the
chief steward. He hadn’t much to say to Vera; a bit of rambling on about the
beautiful Pacific, he briefly mentioned the ordinary seaman as he knew she
already had a wireless message about it. He wrote to Vincent and included a
letter for Denis. It was only a few months since he left but it seemed like
years. He hoped Denis was getting his life back together again, it wouldn’t be
easy but he was quite a resilient man.

Henry took a mug of tea and
went to his cabin. Gary was listening to an American radio station based in
Panama. Then the news came on:  
The city of Santiago had fallen to Castro’s
rebels and the government forces were in retreat. The fall of Havana was
imminent.

 “Jesus! Henry, it looks like
we’re sailing into another heap of trouble. The military will probably have a
curfew in place when we get there.”

 “You could be damn right,
there’ll be no law or order in that place; only looting left right and center. It
won’t be safe to go ashore even if we’re allowed.”

 Looking out of the porthole
it was dark as the ship was lowered in the lock, then she was away again into
the bright sunshine to the next lock. This was repeated twice more before they
sailed out into Limor Bay and set a course north for Cuba.

 Henry was serving the
evening meal and was disappointed he hadn’t yet received any mail.

“Has the mail come on board,”
he asked the second steward.

 “Yes, the old man has the
mail but seemingly he hasn’t had time to go through it, having to stay on the
bridge until we are clear of the locks.”

 They were half way through serving
the meal when he saw the mate pass through to the chief steward’s cabin with a
handful of mail. Hopefully there’s word from Danny to confirm my conclusion of
this case, he thought.  Henry was so tensed up he nearly dropped a plate of
steak and onions into the chief engineer’s lap.

As soon as he’d finished his
duties, Henry galloped into the chief steward’s cabin and was handed three
letters. He went straight to the lavatory and bolted the door. He noted the
postmarks; there was at letter from India, one from Australia and one bearing a
British postmark. He felt this was his reading room now - a lavatory no less!
He opened the one from Danny first. He had gotten the result of the fingerprints
and it confirmed that the print on the floor of the closet was indeed that of
Tukola; a full palm print they couldn’t confirm, but the five clear fingerprints
were a match to his seaman’s discharge book. They also found one on the side of
the wash basin to match. Danny was of the same belief that he got into the
cabin before Pippa arrived down from the bridge and hid in the closet. He could
have killed her shortly after she entered the room and later in the night when
it was quiet, he could have thrown the body over the side.

My God, Henry thought, what
am I going to do in a place like Havana with a revolution in full swing? It
will be another three weeks voyage to the UK with our cargo of sugar, and we
could be two to three weeks loading. How can we stop this maniac from murdering
again? And my own safety will be compromised when he notices the missing box. If
I go to the captain, who would already know the killer’s identity by now, how
can he arrest and detain him on the ship without the crew tearing Tukola from
limb to limb - there’d be a bloody mutiny!