Damned by Logic

by Jeffrey Ashford

  He looked at Georgie. ‘I’ll fit him in, even if I have to discard something.’

  In Ansell’s cabin, the second occupant, Crowhurst, was on the settee; his speech was alcoholically disturbed. ‘Been busy, have you?’

  Ansell crossed to his bunk, put Georgie down on it.

  ‘Got to wondering where you was. Reckoned you was enjoying more than what they said the trip would give us.’

  Ansell lifted up his suitcase on to the bunk, rearranged the contents.

  ‘Give you that monkey, did she?’ Crowhurst asked.

  He ignored the question.

  ‘Been like them, at it all day and all night?’ his cabin mate said with a lascivious smirk upon his lips.

  ‘Would you like to keep your comments to yourself?’ Ansell finally answered, still busily repacking his bag, not glancing at the man’s sneering face, for fear of doing something he might regret.

  ‘Said something to upset you, have I, squire?’

  Ansell wedged Georgie into the suitcase, closed the lid, and left the cabin as quickly as he could. He was determined to try and see Melanie again before they disembarked.

  The Helios had docked and after a relatively short wait, the passengers had begun to leave. Melanie had waited until the last minute in her cabin, making the most of the luxury for as long as it lasted. Then she’d prepared herself for disembarking, making sure that there was no way she would bump into Ansell leaving at the same time. However, that was unlikely considering the different exits they were to be using as inhabitants of different ends of the ship.

  As her last foot left the gangway and landed on solid ground, she was approached by two uniformed men and calmly, yet forcibly, directed across the quayside towards a large official looking shed. A man stepped forward and introduced himself. ‘DC Keene,’ he proclaimed and showed her his warrant card.

  ‘What’s this all about?’ she asked sharply, looking behind her at the crowds of other passengers disembarking behind her. She was relieved to see that no one seemed interested in her being picked out from the crowd and escorted elsewhere. In fact, it was more acceptable these days, to be pounced upon at Customs and Immigration, since 9/11 and the heightened paranoia about security every official had felt since then.

  ‘There is reason to believe, Miss Caine, that you are attempting to bring forbidden items into this country. If you will please cross to that door.’ He pointed.

  She did not move. ‘What the hell ...?’ Her face felt suddenly flushed as fear caused her blood rate to increase.

  ‘Straight to that door.’ He picked up her two suitcases.

  She hesitated.

  ‘It’ll be easier if you do as asked.’ The threat was barely cloaked in official politeness.

  She began to walk.

  They went into an oblong room in which a second officer, Ratner, waited. The window was small, but overhead lights provided sharp illumination. The only furnishings were a long table, a small desk and two benches. Keene put the suitcases on the table. ‘Put your handbag down here, please.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I wish to search it.’

  ‘Like hell you’ll do that.’

  Ratner moved closer to her.

  ‘D’you expect to find it full of coke?’ she asked sarcastic-ally. Perhaps it was foolish to be acting so belligerently, but she resented their attitude and being made to feel so nervous.

  ‘There may be illegally procured, uncut diamonds in it.’

  ‘Do I look like diamonds are my best friend?’ Melanie knew it was a mistake to continue to be antagonistic, but couldn’t help herself.

  ‘Do you deny you are in possession of any diamonds?’

  ‘The only diamond I have, cut or uncut, is in the ring I’m wearing. And if you’re wondering where I got it, it was a gift.’

  ‘May I have your permission to examine the contents of your handbag?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘The reason for your refusal?’

  ‘I don’t like someone messing around with my things.’

  ‘Are your cases locked?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you give my colleague the keys, please.’

  ‘Didn’t you understand what I’ve just said?’

  ‘The request was a courtesy, not a necessity. Are the keys in your handbag?’

  She did not answer.

  Keene opened the handbag and carefully took out the contents, laying each item deliberately on the counter top beside him. He eventually brought out a small set of keys which he handed to Ratner before he then began the task of laboriously replacing all the items back into the bag. Ratner, meanwhile, unlocked the suitcases, and quickly and efficiently examined the contents of the first.

  ‘Does it give you a thrill to feel my pants?’ she asked.

  He checked the second suitcase studiously ignoring her comment.

  ‘It seems you haven’t found the famous Koh-i-Noor,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Maybe you think I’ve swallowed it?’

  Keene used a mobile to speak to someone. Moments later, a female customs officer entered and crossed the floor to stand by Melanie.

  ‘Miss Owen will conduct a personal search of you, Miss Caine,’ he said.

  ‘Like hell she will!’ Was this in punishment for her facetious comment about her knickers or swallowing the diamond?

  ‘You will find it much more comfortable to accept the fact. A forcible search can be disturbing.’

  ‘Do as you say or get beaten up?’

  ‘Come on, Miss Caine, don’t make it more difficult for yourself.’

  She finally accompanied Owen to the far doorway and went through into a small private room. Ratner finished repacking the suitcases, locked them, handed the keys to Keene who replaced them in the handbag. They sat on the bench.

  ‘It’s beginning to look as if she’s clean,’ Ratner observed, as quietly as he could.

  ‘It’s surprising what she could have inside.’ Keene sounded hopeful.

  ‘Let’s hope it is or there’ll be a number of bad tempers around.’

  They discussed football and, supporting different teams, argued.

  Ansell looked at his watch yet again. He accepted he must have missed Melanie. She had warned him that it was unlikely they’d meet on the quayside given that there were so many passengers milling around. Well, no matter; he had to get home anyway.

  On the way to the station, he questioned how soon he could expect to see her again, how long before he could tell Eileen he would be away for a day or two. Since work frequently meant he was away from home, she would have no reason to be surprised.

  Did I once promise to honour and obey and to love no other, he wondered bitterly?

  Irene Owen came through from the small room, shut the door behind her, and frowning, came up to the bench.

  ‘What luck?’ Keene asked.

  ‘Not as much as a sparkle.’

  ‘X-ray?’

  ‘Clear.’

  He swore.

  ‘There’s nothing in the luggage?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then you’ve been given a bum deal.’

  ‘Carry on and remind me I’ve got a mortgage I can’t afford and the house is on negative value.’

  ‘No need to take it out on me. I just do what I’m told.’

  Further conversation ceased when Melanie, having dressed and made herself as presentable as she could in the circumstances, came up to the bench. She faced Ratner, her anger and resentment obvious. She slurred her words. ‘That was humiliating.’

  ‘If we have cause to strip-search a disembarking passenger, we are legally entitled to do so.’

  ‘And she wanted a thrill.’ She pointed at the female officer.

  ‘You have no right to make so obnoxious and unwarranted an accusation,’ Officer Owen retorted with as much dignity as she could muster in the circumstances.

  ‘After what she did to me, I was being bloody polite.’

  ‘You are free to leave.’
>
  She set the suitcases on the trolley, slung the handbag over her shoulder, and left. As she crossed the remaining ground of the forecourt, she was relieved to see that all the ship’s passengers had since left and there was no sign of a lovesick Ansell waiting around for her. It would have been further humiliation to have to describe to him the reason for her delay.

  No other passenger ship was expected for two days. The driver of the one remaining taxi prepared to accept her fare, swore when she crossed to a waiting luxury saloon car.

  A man got out of the saloon, took the two suitcases from her.

  ‘Well?’ Noyes asked as she got into the back of the car.

  ‘No problems,’ she answered.

  FOUR

  Bracken Lane belied its name; not one frond of bracken grew in any of the small front and much larger back gardens; in fact the lane was a suburban road. The houses on both sides had been built in the early twentieth century for those with moderate to fairly good incomes. In estate jargon, they offered quality living.

  It was here that a taxi deposited Ansell after his two weeks away. He climbed out of the car, paid the taxi driver, carried his suitcases to the front door, unlocked it and stepped into the hall.

  Almost immediately, Eileen came out of the sitting room. ‘You’re late.’

  ‘There was some sort of foul-up over tugs, so we didn’t land when we were meant to.’ He went forward to kiss her; she offered her cheek.

  ‘I’ve tried to keep the meal warm.’

  ‘How are you, sweet?’

  ‘The same.’

  Discontented. ‘Have there been any problems?’

  ‘Jane lost her baby three days ago.’

  ‘Oh, what bad luck!’ he said with genuine feeling.

  ‘It was her own fault. I told her, she shouldn’t keep rushing around looking after Jim.’

  Ansell nodded in agreement, then escaped and went up to their bedroom, put the suitcase down on his bed, opened it. He brought out Georgie, slightly crumpled, and put him down by the case. Melanie had said she couldn’t give him an address or telephone number until she decided where to stay, but she’d ring him as soon as possible. It seemed likely she would have a mobile, so why hadn’t she given him the number of that as she’d told him her life would be very grey until she was next with him? He was already thinking about her and now that he had landed back to reality with a jolt, he found himself questioning the validity of their relationship. No, he must stop that, he chided himself. All would work out and she would get in touch when she could. Meanwhile, back to reality.

  ‘Are you coming down?’ Eileen called out impatiently.

  ‘On my way.’ He brought his present out of the suitcase. An attractive, tooled-leather handbag, in a pink coloured box – her favourite colour.

  He went downstairs and into the kitchen. ‘A little something, dear, to make up for your being left on your own.’

  She unwrapped the handbag, examined its interior. ‘It’s a pity there aren’t more compartments for all the things I have to carry. The meal’s in the oven, apple pie is in the fridge.’

  He ate in the dining room. There was room in the kitchen for a corner table and two chairs and he would have set them up, but ‘they’ ate in the kitchen, ‘we’ do not.

  The front doorbell rang. He heard the newcomer talking to Eileen, but had to guess who she was because the kitchen door had swung shut. Judy – fun but condemned for flirting with other husbands; Gertrude – her looks suited her name; Yvette – a keen member of the local dramatic society, not nearly as good as she thought herself. He helped himself to a second portion of apple pie, poured over it more cream than Eileen would have approved.

  ‘David,’ she called out, ‘come on in and say hullo to Babs.’

  Barbara – avid collector of gossip, preferably defamatory in nature.

  He finished eating, went through to the drawing room, as Eileen liked it to be called. He would have considered Barbara attractive – in appearance – had she not used so much make-up and dressed for effect.

  ‘Just back from your cruise, then,’ Barbara said, stating the obvious as if it was an unexpected surprise. She came forward for a cheek kiss-kiss. ‘Did you enjoy it?’

  ‘Parts more than others.’

  ‘Babs is booked on a cruise to the West Indies,’ Eileen said.

  ‘One of the few places left which still has some class,’ Barbara observed.

  The two discussed the new shop which had opened in the High Street. Barbara judged the dresses as of very medium quality, but, of course, one had to spend in order to be elegant.

  She proved there was no connection between cost and elegance, he thought.

  Eileen said she’d bought a very pretty blouse at the established dress shop in Market Road and Barbara must see it.

  ‘I simply haven’t the time. I’m meant to be giving Teresa help with organizing an appeal in aid of something-or-other.’

  ‘It won’t take five minutes.’

  As he heard them going upstairs, he recalled the afternoon in Madeira when Melanie had bought two – or was it three – embroidered blouses.

  When they returned, he stood. One of his few habits to gain Eileen’s approval was his manners, installed by parents who had held that times might change, respect for others did not.

  ‘What a strange looking monkey,’ Babs said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Where has your mind just been? The monkey on your bed. I’ve never thought you to be the kind of man who buys mementoes of trips. They’re always so mundane and badly made.’

  ‘He has no taste,’ Eileen said hostilely.

  ‘Does any husband? I really must get a move on or Teresa will think I can’t be bothered to help. Goodbye, David.’

  Cheek kiss-kisses.

  They chatted at the front door before Eileen returned to the drawing room. ‘What the hell’s been going on?’ she demanded.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Her voice rose. ‘Don’t try to make out you don’t know. D’you think I’m blind?’

  ‘Depends if you want to see what you’re looking at.’

  ‘The usual “smart” remark.’

  ‘If you would only explain what’s upset you?’

  ‘You damn well know it’s that monkey.’

  He remembered he’d left Georgie on his bed. ‘Barbary ape, actually.’

  ‘Who gave it to you?’

  ‘I bought it.’

  ‘Babs is right.’

  ‘Makes a change.’

  ‘You’ve been away umpteen times and never before brought back tourist trash. Some woman gave it to you. It stinks of cheap scent and there are blonde hairs caught up in the fur.’

  He stilled the sudden panic. ‘Can’t think why that worries you. The woman who sold me the ape had blonde hair and smelled as if drenched in something.’

  ‘I know you’re lying.’

  ‘Then there’s small point in my repeating the truth.’

  ‘You made me look a fool. When I took Babs up to the bedroom, she had to poke her nose into everything. She picked the monkey up, smelled the cheap scent, saw the hairs, said you’d been having a very energetic cruise. Now she’ll tell everyone you had an affair with some slut on the boat. What are my friends going to think?’

  ‘They’ll believe her and smile knowingly.’

  Eileen stormed off. She went upstairs. A door was slammed shut. It was, he thought, her character to be more worried about what people would think than the actual act of his adultery. But she would not demand a divorce. To be divorced could give friends the opportunity to say it was her fault.

  FIVE

  ‘Piera is going to shout,’ Noyes said angrily. ‘You took a goddamn risk.’ They were in the car still, negotiating traffic into the city.

  ‘I didn’t have any alternative,’ Melanie countered. ‘I was sussed when I was given the sparklers.’

  ‘How d’you know?’

  ‘Come on, Steve, we can both name
a man a split, even if he’s had a bath.’

  He muttered an acceptance of what she said. There was very often something – too sharp an interest, too marked a disinterest, repeated sightings – which identified a policeman to a villain, a villain to a policeman.

  ‘To land them, I had to have someone who looked like he’d never lifted a bar of chocolate. And it’s a bloody good job I did pass ’em on. They tore my luggage apart and strip-searched me.’

  ‘Who’s got them now?’

  ‘He does – Ansell.’

  ‘Didn’t he want to know why he was taking the monkey through?’

  ‘He’d got beyond asking anything except for me to get ’em off. It’s a Barbary ape.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit if it’s King Kong.’

  His temper was always on a short fuse. She introduced a touch of humour to try to defuse it. ‘Then King Kong would have been carried by Georgie and the law would have been very interested in him.’

  ‘How d’you persuade him?’

  ‘Diamond sex. Then said my suitcases were filled to bursting because of all I’d bought in the places we went to together and I couldn’t pack Georgie.’

  ‘Anyone with half a brain would have wondered if you were getting him to run something black through.’

  ‘His brain was still in bed with me.’

  ‘He wasn’t fingered?’

  ‘I told you, he’d have given himself away if he’d been carrying as much as an extra pack of cigarettes.’

  ‘How d’you plan on getting it back?’

  ‘“It”? Poor Georgie? If he could hear you, he’d be very hurt.’

  This time, her light teasing annoyed him. ‘How?’ he demanded angrily, smacking the steering wheel of the car with the palm of his hand as he drove.

  She hurriedly answered. Noyes had the appearance of a Mr Anybody, but few equalled his capacity for violence. ‘I phone David and tell him where to meet me to return Georgie.’

  ‘What if he doesn’t?’

  ‘He’d cross the Thames on hands and knees to be with me again.’

  Noyes momentarily gripped the steering wheel with unnecessary, even dangerous, force as he tried to control his anger. Why the sodding hell couldn’t the bitch have found a way of smuggling the diamonds without losing possession of them?