Someone, and there were no second guesses as to who that someone had been, had poured thick motor oil into the petrol tank. It wasn’t oil drained from the sump of a car. The dirty black colour would have given the game away. It was obviously fresh and unused; and probably about a pint of it, just enough oil to clog the spark-plug every time Rick had pulled the rope, stopping the engine cold. The clean petrol in the fuel line had been just enough to get them away from the floating pontoon.
If it hadn’t been for the two bodies down below I would simply have blamed some yachtie with a warped sense of humour.
No wonder Baiya knew he wouldn’t be surprised. T-shirt must have shot up on deck to see if he could see them rowing out. They weren’t on the water so he must have known that they had at least another fifteen minutes; and each time they had gone out on deck they would have searched across the water again. They had planned well.
But they hadn’t been able to allow for my cheap stomach and some week-old curry.
I drained the fuel tank into an old tin and refilled it again, then wiped my hands on a piece of cloth and walked into the saloon for that cup of coffee.
They were a bleary-eyed lot, although the girls not as bad as the other two: Henry slumped on one of the benches at the dining table; Rick pouring a beer for himself and looking guilty as he caught my eye; the girls cooking bacon and eggs at the stove. The smell of frying bacon filled the room and my saliva glands started to work.
“Hi there, ol’ buddy,” Henry mumbled from across the saloon. “You miss’d a fine ol’ time tonight. You sure did.”
“Fuck you, Henry!” I screamed at the top of my voice. “You stupid moronic son-of-a-bitch! You drunken bastard! Why the fuck can’t you keep your goddamn mouth shut!”
I stood in the middle of the saloon, trembling, the fury welling up inside me as I tried to take hold of myself, clenching my fists until the nails bit into my palms, my chest heaving.
Henry’s mouth dropped as he sprang away. He didn’t know how close he was to getting his face smashed in. Rick spilled his beer.
Then the full import of the words I had yelled finally found its way into the thought processes of Henry’s befuddled brain and he went to stagger forward, his face belligerent, chin jutting out.
“Just stay where you are, Henry!” I snapped. “Just stay where you bloody are!”
The fury in my voice stopped him in his tracks, and something told him that maybe discretion was the better part of valour; and that I could half murder him if it came to a fight.
“What the hell’s got into you?” Rick demanded. “Leave the poor bastard alone!”
I spun to him, ready to let fly with words, and if that didn’t satisfy my anger, then with fists. I stared at him, my whole body still shaking. Maybe it was the fear and the shock finally tumbling out; maybe it was my own resentment at having to fight the two Indians on my own and not having received any thanks from this pair of ingrates.
We faced each other for what seemed an age.
My breathing gradually subsided and I took hold again. It wasn’t Rick’s fault any more than it had been mine. It wasn’t Rick who had opened his mouth to those two bastards. Rick was my mate. We had been together far too long to fall out now. I opened my clenched fists and dropped my arms to my sides.
“Okay, Rick,” I muttered through tight lips. “I’ve got no quarrel with you. Leave it till the morning, when you’re both cold sober, because, mate, believe me, you’ll need to be!”
“Wha’s he on about, Ricky?” Henry mumbled.
Rick shrugged his shoulders.
It was almost the last straw. I grabbed the plate of eggs, bacon and toast that Mere had just placed in front of Henry, and stormed off towards the wheelhouse. “I’m sleeping up here,” I snarled over my shoulder as I climbed the few steps. “You two can make the best of it with the bloody fo’c’sle.”
“Hey?” It was Rick, still puzzled.
“And if you need the outboard,” I continued. “I’ve fixed it.”
“Yeah, okay, mate,” Rick replied, deciding to leave well enough alone.
Five minutes later there was an exclamation from the fo’c’sle.
“Shit! Who pinched the bloody sea-grass matting? I nearly broke my bloody neck!”
“How the hell should I know?” I called down to Rick. “Why don’t you ask that bastard Henry in the morning?”
He wouldn’t have to though, not after I showed him the matting, and the bloodstains, and the blood-soaked towel with which I had wiped the floor. They were down with the bodies.
There had been more than a cupful of blood spread around Baiya’s head, but most of it had gone through the matting, spreading across the painted steel floor. It had taken hot water, soap and fifteen minutes of scrubbing, but I was certain I had removed it all. There was nothing left to alarm the girls. The clear light of day would see if I was right.
I settled down on the mattress Henry had carried up before we had left that evening, pulled the sheet up to my chin to keep out the ghosts of the night; and lay there, willing it all to have been nothing more than a bad dream.
Ten
I suppose I slept. I must have, because I kept waking to visions of twisting lengths of cord swinging before my eyes, with a hangman’s noose at one end and the other held loosely in Baiya’s left hand while he leered and beckoned with one finger of the other. It was as the point of the knife pieced my eye that I awoke and stumbled off the mattress, covered in sweat, shaking with fear.
I stood on quaking legs and stared out the wheelhouse window towards the expanse of harbour lying outside the Bay of Islands, and wondered how far away the Sundowner’s dinghy would be by now.
There were no sounds coming from below, apart from Henry’s muffled snoring. It was far too early for drunks to be up and about.
The galley was as they had left it: dirty dishes in the sink and the greasy pan still on the stove; a cockroach speeding away behind the empty egg container and ducking into a cupboard as he heard me come down the steps. I made a mug of strong black coffee, dumped in three spoonfuls of sugar for energy; I normally drank it without; and carried the coffee-stained mug out to the back deck, away from the stink of last night’s greasy eggs; and remembered the sweet smell of blood.
The air outside seemed clean somehow, full of vitality, crisp. I looked across at the steep hills behind the Tradewinds, marveling again at their greenness, and then over to the short rocky sides of Honeymoon Island surrounded by dark green water not yet reflecting a sun still hiding behind those carpeted hills. The tiny island was sleeping, and at peace, and I thought back to the moment in time that Kini and I had spent loving and laughing on that very same piece of paradise.
An hour and another two cups of coffee later the sound of bare feet moving along the deck behind me brought my thoughts back to the present.
“You feeling a bit better this morning?”
I turned to the sound of Rick’s voice, his tone cool, remote.
“Probably,” I replied.
“What was the problem last night?”
“How’s your head?” I asked in return.
“Not too bad, considering. I was all set to get stuck into the whisky when I got back here; but some bastard had obviously finished the bottle. I don’t suppose you’re the bastard?”
“You could say that,” I replied. “I tossed it over the side. It was still half full at the time.”
“What the bloody hell for?” he asked, sounding more like I had raped his sister instead of merely throwing out some cheap Scotch.
“Best if I show you something first,” I replied calmly. “Are the girls still asleep?”
“Yeah. Look, what the hell’s got into you?” he asked, expecting a snarl and confused by my quietness. “You look as though you’ve just lost your best friend!”
“You nearly did,” I replied.
“Huh?”
“Come on.”
I took the bunch of keys from my shirt pocket
and undid both padlocks.
“Why two locks?” he asked.
“I didn’t want you or Henry going down there last night, particularly Henry.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll see.”
“What the hell is it?”
“Just shut up and come on down.”
He followed me down and frowned when I reached up and pulled the hatch closed. I leaned across to the switch and flooded the area with harsh neon light.
“You’d better get ready to sit down,” I said as I grabbed hold of a corner of the canvas.
“Huh?”
I flipped the canvas aside, revealing a black curly-haired leg and then a staring face, teeth still bared, and eyes full of hate, the head hanging loose at the shoulders.
“Jesus Christ!”
He went a pale shade of white and stumbled back into the tool racks. I pulled the canvas completely clear, exposing the blood-smeared smashed head, the slack limbs, and the bloody towel.
“They’re ... dead?” he said.
“Yes,” I replied. “Of course.”
It sounded unreal somehow.
“But ... they’re really dead!” His eyes were wide, staring.
“Right.”
“But how? Who?”
He moved away from me, the tool racks rubbing along his back, suddenly remembering the violence that had flared in me last night, suddenly scared, trying to manoeuvre towards the ladder.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I killed them.”
I wanted to cry as I watched the look of fear come over his face. He thought I had gone mad, me, his partner. At that moment I felt quite alone, even more alone than I had felt when they had led me up out of the hold on the end of the rope and Baiya had told me what to expect.
“Rick, for God’s sake!” I snapped. “Listen to me! Sit down and bloody listen!”
He didn’t sit, but he didn’t move any further away either. He just stood and stared first at me and then back to the corpses and then back to me again; but he was sitting by the time I had finished the tale, his colour turning to a dull grey as I told him how they had intended to hang me from one of the booms and make it look like suicide.
“Jesus Christ!” he swore. “No wonder you flew at Henry. I would have killed the bastard! How the hell did you manage to keep your hands off him?”
I shrugged my shoulders, and felt the sweat run down my back. “He was too bloody drunk to feel anything.”
It was getting hard to breathe in the closeness of the hold, and I could taste the smell of death crawling into my mouth again.
“And I’ve calmed down now,” I continued. “It’s too damned late to start thumping him. Anyway, you and I are as much to blame. We shouldn’t have let him go off by himself.”
“Yeah, I suppose in a way you’re right.”
“And besides,” I went on, “the important thing now is to figure out what we do with the bodies.”
He flinched at the sound of the word.
“You’ll get more used to it as time passes,” I said.
“No, mate. I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Let’s you and I get out of here before someone misses us – Sai for instance.”
He had the hatch open in one second flat, even before I could switch the light off.
“I’ll go and get Henry,” he said as I bent down to replace the two locks.
“No,” I replied. “Let him sleep. I would prefer to have him without a king-sized hangover if possible.”
“Bloody hell, mate. If I was in your shoes I’d have hauled him out of his bunk hours ago.”
“What good would it do?” I asked.
“Yeah ... well ... the stupid bastard. What the hell was he trying to prove?”
“Don’t ask me,” I replied. “But do you reckon you can get rid of the girls as soon as possible after they wake up?” I smiled. “I did ask you last night, but you weren’t very receptive to the idea.”
“Sorry, mate.”
“Yes, well, I suppose it was a bit too much to expect.” We ambled down towards the stern and leaned on the spare drums of diesel. “You’d better tell the girls I got stuck into the whisky when I arrived back at the boat last night. They know something’s happened between us. Tell them I get nasty when I get on the whisky. We don’t want them remembering my outburst if someone ever comes along asking questions about those two down below.”
“No, you’re right there. I shouldn’t worry too much about it though. Sai thought it a hell of a joke. Kini told her you’re a real passionate bastard.” He grinned. “She reckoned you were just bloody annoyed because you were missing out. Leave it to me.”
We leaned against the bulwark and waved to one of the local boats going out for the day.
“God, my mouth’s gone dry,” he said. “I could do with a drink. Hair of the dog?”
I looked at him sharply.
“No,” he said. “Perhaps not. I think we’ve just become a dry ship for a while.”
“Right.”
The girls were awake and out of the fo’c’sle by nine-thirty. I made a point of apologizing for my temper, blaming it on the bottle. Rick told them I could be a moody person at times. The knowing looks said that they knew the real reason; and Sai said that Kini was probably off duty by now. I didn’t push it any further.
Henry emerged half an hour later, suffering from a mammoth hangover, so we decided not to tell him about the corpses for another hour. He couldn’t understand why were we all so friendly again, which meant that he hadn’t been quite as drunk as he had been on the previous night when his mouth had let us down. He shook his head, regretted the action, and took his coffee in both hands and went up to the bow for a quiet sulk.
Rick waited until after a late breakfast and the girls had cleaned up the galley, and then told them that they would have to leave soon. He explained that we were going to sea for a week or two to do some photography and needed them off the boat so that we could get her ready to sail. There were tears in Mere’s eyes as she went looking for Henry.
He came racing in through the doorway.
“What’s happening?”
“Outside, Henry,” I said, steering him away from the others. “Something’s come up,” I continued once we were out of earshot.
He stood with fists on hips and glared at me.
“Okay, Andy. What the hell’s going on? Why the hell did you get stuck into me like that last night?”
“I’ll tell you when the girls are gone.”
“Tell me what?”
“Later.”
“Now! I don’t have to put up with the sort of crap you handed out last night! I’m as much a part of this boat as you are. If you want a split, then come out with it. I can make it on my own, you know.”
“Cool it, Henry!”
“No! You tell me what’s on your mind!”
“Have I ever lied to you, Henry?”
He thought for a moment: “No.”
“Okay then. We’re in serious trouble, deadly bloody serious. The girls have to go, and they have to go now! As soon as they’ve gone, you’ll get the full story; but not before!”
He looked at me and saw the set of my jaw, and knew I wasn’t bluffing; that somehow we were indeed in trouble; and he had the sense to accept it.
“You’d better be right, Andy.”
“I am. I just wish to God that I wasn’t!”
******
The outboard started first pull. Henry went to climb down into the dinghy with the others and Rick waved him back. “I’ll take the girls in and find them a taxi, Henry. Why don’t you check out the storage hold with Andy?”
Henry sat poised on the gunwale, one leg on either side, a puzzled look on his face. Mere smiled up at him and waved goodbye. Poor Mere. She didn’t realise that it might be the last time that she would see him. He would forget her in a week or two, but it would take Mere a good deal longer. We stood watching as they churned their way across the bay
.
“Okay, Andy,” he said. “Now, what’s going on?”
“Wait until they’re off the pontoon and walking into the hotel,” I replied.
I didn’t want either of the girls suddenly remembering that they had left something on the trawler. I was certain Rick would take care of it if they did; but just in case he couldn’t, we would wait.
“Right, Henry,” I said a few minutes later, the sadistic part of my nature coming to the fore. “Come with me. I’d like you to formally introduce me to some of your friends.”
“Eh?”
“Come.”
The sudden sight of death as I threw the canvas aside pole-axed him, his eyes folding up into his head as he dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap. I leant him up against the wall near the open hatch and slapped his face. His eyes flickered several times and he looked again at the two bodies, shaking his head as though wanting the nightmare to go away.
“They won’t disappear, Henry,” I said. “They won’t simply vanish; and you know why, Henry? Because they’re dead.” He looked up at me in utter confusion. “And you know who killed them, Henry?” He shook his head. “No?” I paused. “You did, Henry. With a little help from me.”
“No ..!” His head shaking. “No ..!”
He trembled and wormed his body hard into the corner, as far away as he could get from the gruesome sight.
“You know who they are, don’t you, Henry?”
I was becoming tense, vengeful. The fear of what might happen to me if we were caught gnawing into me again.
“Who are they, Henry?” I shouted, the strident tones of my voice bouncing and resounding around the four steel walls.
“One of them,” he murmured. “I only know one of them. I’m not certain about the other one. They all look alike.”
“Well, tell me, Henry! Which one do you know?”
He pointed at Baiya.
“And who was he, Henry?” I shouted again.
“He’s one of the guys I was drinking with at that other nightclub ... La Tropicale.”
“What about the other bastard?”
“He could’ve been the other one we were drinking with.”
The Stone Dog Page 13
