The Wreck of the Mary Deare (23 page)

BOOK: The Wreck of the Mary Deare
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Higgins pursed his lips, then shook his head. ‘No, I can't say I 'ave.'

‘Take the flooding of the for'ard holds. You say you didn't think it was an explosion of some sort.'

‘I didn't say nuthing of the kind. I said I didn't think about it, not at the time. There was a lot of other things ter think aba't. Anyway, I wasn't on the bridge.'

‘And what's your opinion now?'

Higgins shook his head. ‘I don't know wot ter think.'

‘And what about the fires? Were they natural outbreaks?'

‘Ah, the fires—that's different.' His cunning little eyes darted a glance to where Patch sat, watching him with a tense face.

‘You think they were started deliberately?'

‘Yes, I reckon so.'

‘You suspect somebody then?'

‘I don't know about that. But,' he added, ‘I knew we was in fer trouble as soon as 'e come aboard.' And he nodded his hard bollard of head towards Patch. ‘Stands ter reason, a man wiv 'is record don't get the job fer nuthing—and then the skipper dying so convenient-like.'

‘Are you blaming somebody for Captain Taggart's death?' There was a note of censure in Holland's voice.

‘I ain't blamin' anyone. But somebody swiped the poor devil's liquor and all I say is it only did one man any good.'

An excited buzz ran round the court as Holland sat down. Fenton was immediately on his feet. It was a disgraceful allegation, made without a shred of evidence to support it. And the Chairman agreed, leaning forward and asking Higgins whether it wasn't true that Taggart had accused several of the officers. And when Higgins admitted that it was, he said, ‘Yourself as well?'

‘The poor devil was ravin',' Higgins declared angrily.

‘So he's raving when he accuses you, but not when he accuses Mr Patch, is that it?' Bowen-Lodge's voice was icy.

‘Well, it didn't do me no good, him dying,' Higgins muttered.

‘I put it to you that Captain Taggart just ran out of liquor.'

But Higgins shook his head. ‘There was a lot of stuff brought off to 'im by a ship's chandler in Aden. 'E couldn't 've drunk it all in the time. It weren't 'umingly possible.'

‘What did you think about it at the time? Did you take his accusations seriously?'

‘No, why should I? When a man's ravin' the way he was, you don't know wot ter believe.' Higgins had a baffled look as though he wasn't sure where the questions were leading. ‘Mebbe 'e 'ad liquor, an' mebbe 'e didn't,' he muttered hoarsely. ‘Mebbe somebody pinched it—I dunno. All I know is, we searched the 'ole bloomin' ship fer 'im, jus' ter make 'im 'appy, 'an we didn't find a single bottle wot belonged to 'im. 'Course,' he added, ‘if we'd known as 'ow 'e was goin' ter die fer lack of the stuff, there's some of us, as was plannin' ter smuggle the odd bottle through the Customs, who'd 've chipped in ter 'elp 'im, as the sayin' is.'

Bowen-Lodge nodded and Fenton started to question Higgins, trying to get him to admit that Patch had never given the order to stand-by to abandon ship, trying to confuse him and break him down over little details. But Higgins was a dangerous witness to cross-examine. He made it clear with every answer that he didn't trust Patch, and he didn't budge an inch from his original testimony.

But with Sir Lionel it was different. His interest was the cargo. What had led the witness to believe that the cases loaded at Yokohama contained explosives? Had he discovered something whilst he was loading the cases? But when the Chairman put the question, Higgins said he hadn't been a member of the ship's company at the time the cases were loaded.

‘When did your employment as second officer commence then?' Bowen-Lodge asked.

‘The day before the ship sailed,' Higgins answered. ‘By then she was all loaded up, hatches battened down an' lying out in the fairway.'

‘You were shown the manifest?'

‘No. I never saw the manifest, not till later.'

‘Then what gave you the idea that the cargo contained explosives?'

‘There was rumours around the docks.'

‘And amongst the crew?'

‘Yes.'

‘Have you ever known explosives packed in cases clearly marked as aero engines?'

‘Not exactly. But I've heard of explosives bein' packed and marked as other things, to avoid the regulations as you might say.'

‘But you had no definite indication that the cases might contain other than what was stated on the manifest?'

‘No.'

‘And you did your utmost to scotch this rumour?'

For the first time Higgins showed uncertainty. ‘Well no, to be honest I can't say I did.'

‘Why not?'

The muscles along Higgins's neck thickened. ‘Well, if it comes ter that, why should I? Wasn't none of my business.'

Bowen-Lodge glanced across at Sir Lionel with one eyebrow raised. The next question concerned the four days the ship was moored in the Rangoon River. Yes, Higgins admitted, he had gone ashore with the rest. Well, why not? It wasn't every day the owners gave a ship's company forty-eight hours ashore, expenses paid. The reason? Mr Dellimare was a good bloke, that's why—knew how to treat a crew, believed in a happy ship.

‘When you got back to the ship—' Sir Lionel was now putting his questions direct to the witness again—‘did you talk to any of the officers or men of the
Torre Annunziata
?'

‘Yes. The first officer, a bloke called Slade, came aboard for a drink wiv me and the Chief.'

‘Did you ask them why they had been shifting cargo around?'

‘No. But Slade tol' me they'd 'ad ter do it because of some clerical mess-up over the destination of the steel tubes they were due to load.'

‘Did you talk to Adams about it?'

‘No.'

‘But you saw him when you got back on board?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did he suggest that the crew of the
Torre Annunziata
had been tampering with the
Mary Deare
's cargo?'

‘No.' And then he added quickly, ‘An' if they 'ad, 'e'd 've known about it 'cos when I saw 'im, 'e was up an' about an' feelin' better fer 'is two days in bed.'

‘Adams being sick, I take it you were in charge of the loading of the cotton cargo?' Higgins nodded and Sir Lionel then asked him, ‘Did you notice any change in the disposition of the cargo?'

‘No, can't say I did.'

‘You're quite certain?'

‘'Course I'm certain.'

Sir Lionel's small head shot forward and his voice was suddenly crisp and hard as he said, ‘How could you be? You said you joined the ship after she was loaded?'

But Higgins wasn't easily put out. His tongue passed over the dry line of his lips. But that was the only sign of uneasiness he gave. ‘I may not've bin there when she was loaded. But I was when we discharged our top cargo of Japanese cotton an' rayon goods. I took special note of 'ow the cases was stowed 'cos I guessed I'd 'ave to load the bales of raw cotton when they was ready.'

Sir Lionel nodded. ‘Just one more question. You say you didn't go aboard the
Mary Deare
until the day before she sailed. How was that?'

‘Well, I wasn't took on till then.'

‘Who engaged you—Captain Taggart?'

‘No, Mr Dellimare. Oh, Captain Taggart signed the papers. But it was Dellimare wot engaged me.'

‘Why?'

Higgins frowned. ‘'Ow d'you mean?'

‘I asked you why he engaged you. Were you the only man who applied for the vacancy?'

‘Well, not exactly. I mean . . .' Higgins glanced round the court and again his tongue passed along his lips. ‘It didn't 'appen like that.'

‘You mean the job wasn't offered in the usual way? You were engaged by Mr Dellimare privately?'

‘I suppose so.' Higgins sounded reluctant.

‘Perhaps you would be good enough to explain to the Court how it happened.'

Higgins hesitated. ‘Well, we 'appened ter meet, as you might say, an' 'e was short of a second officer an' I wanted a berth, an' that's all there was to it.'

‘Where did you meet?'

‘Some bar da'n by the waterfront. Don't remember the name of it.'

‘By arrangement?'

Higgins's face was reddening, the muscles on his neck swelling. ‘Yes, by arrangement.' He said it angrily as though challenging Sir Lionel to make something of it.

But Sir Lionel only said, ‘Thank you. That was what I wanted to know.' And sat down. He had established two things: that, if the Dellimare Company were planning to wreck the
Mary Deare
, the vital shift of cargo was a possibility, and that Higgins could have been the instrument of their choice. But he had nothing definite against Higgins and that, he admitted to Hal long afterwards, was the real trouble. To justify his clients in withholding payment of the insurance claim he had to have something more positive.

It was the evidence of the other survivors that finally decided him, and the most damaging evidence was that of the helmsman, Yules, who had been on the bridge with Higgins when the fire broke out. He was timid and he gave his evidence with a slight stutter. He wasn't a very strong witness, but he clung to his statement that Patch had given the order to stand by to abandon ship with unshakeable obstinacy. He even had the words off pat, and though Patch's counsel rose to the occasion and had him so terrified that he kept on looking to Higgins for support, he never budged.

He was the last witness before lunch and I didn't need Hal to tell me that Patch would have a bad time of it when he took the stand for examination by the various counsel. The Court hadn't begun to get at the truth yet. But what was the truth? Hal asked me that over lunch and all I could say was, ‘God knows.'

‘Dellimare couldn't have started that fire in the hold,' he said, and I agreed. Dellimare was dead by then. It had to be Higgins. Evidently Bowen-Lodge had also considered this possibility over his lunch, for, when the Court reassembled, he had Yules recalled and questioned him closely about the movements of the officer of the watch. And Yules swore that Higgins had been on the bridge from 20.00 hours and hadn't once left it. Later, Burrows, the chief engineer officer, testified that Higgins had been playing poker with him and two members of the crew who had been drowned, from 17.00 hours to 20.00 hours with only a brief break for food.

One after the other the survivors went into the witness box, each from his different angle corroborating what had gone before—the certainty that the ship was jinxed, that she carried explosives and that she was destined to go to the bottom. It was the story of men carrying within themselves the seeds of inevitable tragedy.

And then at last Holland called ‘Gideon Patch' and he was standing there in the witness box again, slightly stooped, his hands gripping the rail, knuckles as white as the pallor of his face. He looked worried sick and the twitch was there at the corner of his mouth.

Bowen-Lodge questioned him first—questioned him in minute detail about the orders he had given after the fire broke out. He had him go through the whole thing again from the moment Rice had rushed into his cabin to report the outbreak. Then, when Patch had told it exactly as he'd told it before, Bowen-Lodge gave a little shrug and Holland took up the questioning again. And all the time it was obvious that something was being kept back. You could sense it in the way the man stood there with that hunted look on his face and his body all tense and trembling. And the questions went back and forth with nobody making any sense out of it and Patch sticking to his statement that he had been knocked out and that the fire had been started deliberately.

‘Yes, but by whom?' Bowen-Lodge demanded.

And Patch had answered in a flat, colourless voice, ‘That is for the Court to decide.'

After that the ball had been tossed to the counsel representing the interested parties and they hounded him with questions about Taggart and Dellimare, about his handling of the crew, about the seaworthiness of the ship, and then finally the counsel for the Marine Officers' Association was on his feet, going back once again over the orders he'd given the night the ship was abandoned, and Bowen-Lodge was beginning to glance at the clock.

At last Sir Lionel rose, and his questions were all about the cargo. If Patch could have said that those cases were empty or contained something other than aero-engines, that would have been that and Sir Lionel would have been satisfied. But he couldn't say it and the questions went on and on until Sir Lionel had exhausted all the possibilities. He paused then and seemed on the point of sitting down. He was bending forward, peering at some notes and he looked up over his reading glasses and said, ‘Perhaps, Mr Learned Chairman, you would ask the witness to tell me how he came to be on the
Mary Deare
.'

The question was put and Patch answered, quite unsuspecting, that he thought he had already explained that he had replaced Mr Adams who had been taken to hospital suffering from jaundice.

‘Yes, yes, quite,' Sir Lionel said impatiently. ‘What I meant was, who signed you on—Captain Taggart or Mr Dellimare?'

‘Captain Taggart.'

‘He came ashore and made the choice himself?'

‘No.'

‘Who did come ashore then and make the choice?' Sir Lionel's voice still sounded bored. He gave the impression that he was dealing with a small routine point.

‘Mr Dellimare.'

‘Mr Dellimare?' Sir Lionel's face was suddenly expressive of surprise. ‘I see. And was it done privately, a meeting in some bar—by arrangement?' His tone carried the bite of sarcasm in it.

‘No. We met at the agents'.'

‘At the agents'? Then there were probably other unemployed officers there?'

BOOK: The Wreck of the Mary Deare
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