The Pirate Ship

by Peter Tonkin

  He heaved himself to his feet and staggered across to the bridge wing door. Pushed it open. Lurched out. ‘John!’

  The tone of his voice told the others all they needed to know. ‘Oh God, John …’ He went down on his knees again.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Andrew. ‘I thought Second Officer Tong was found on that chair inside the door.’

  ‘Wait!’ spat Tom. ‘Look!’

  The survivor lifted his dead crew mate onto his knees and they stayed together there for a moment as the survivor tried to find a pulse in the great veins of John Tong’s armpit And that was what he was doing when the figure in the yellow shirt burst out through the bridge wing wielding the panga with all his might.

  Overcome by horror and surprise, the survivor hurled John Tong’s body up, holding it as a shield against those massive blows, pushing it back, step by step, as he forced his attacker back onto the bridge itself.

  ‘My God,’ called Maggie, ‘what on earth is he doing now?’

  ‘Richard,’ called Tom, ‘can you …’

  The mention of the name ignited a fearsome agony in the survivor’s head but he could not stop for that now. His opponent hacked again at poor John, his blows restricted by the doorway, his face twisted with fierce bloodlust. Survivor was groaning now, his shoulders on fire and his strength all but gone.

  ‘Richard!’

  Tom’s near scream coincided with a clap of thunder loud enough to throw the orang laut in the yellow shirt forward. Tom, unwisely, came between them and metamorphosed into the unfortunate John Tong. The survivor hurled the psychologist back with the last of his strength and he collapsed into the bare metal frame of the watchkeeper’s chair.

  But the survivor was out of control now, nothing and no one existed except the writhing yellow man with a bullet hole exactly in the centre of his chest.

  ‘Trev!’ He hurled himself forward, then froze unsteadily on his feet. ‘God, you got him! I’d never have believed! Trev … Trev!’ He hurled himself forwards again, slipping on the slimy flooring, fighting to stay erect.

  Once again, he was the only one to hear the thunderclap of the automatic’s second detonation.

  *

  Tom sat, winded, on the metal frame of the watchkeeper’s chair where the hacked remains of John Tong had been found and he watched the great body of his patient hanging there looking down at the grey metal flooring. He recognised the way in which the great tousled head was shaking helplessly from side to side. Behind him the others stood, shaken to the core by the glimpse they had been granted into what this man had experienced here — or at any rate believed he had experienced here.

  Tom watched as the great splayed hands came up to hold the shaking, grizzled temples. And they all watched as the strength of the knotted hands and arms slowly overcame the shaking of the head.

  Tom closed his eyes and sent up a quick prayer. He had arrived now at the very second he had been striving towards for weeks — the moment Survivor was born.

  ‘Richard!’ rapped the psychologist, his voice at its most compelling and commanding. ‘Richard Mariner!’

  The head began to shake again and Tom breathed out, defeated, expecting to hear the plaint ‘Richard hurts!’

  But no. The great head came up, the wild blue eyes flashed, quickened, deepened. ‘Yes?’ said Richard Mariner. ‘Here I am. But where am I? And who are you?’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was a weekend of feverish activity for everyone concerned and yet by the time Sunday evening arrived none of them felt that they had made very much progress.

  In Hong Kong, both Saturday and Sunday were vibrant with the first series of public celebrations due to mark, during the next lunar month, the last two weeks as Crown Colony and the first two as Special Economic Zone. In the midst of it all, Tom Fowler fought against a general sense of anticlimax, in himself and in those immediately around him, as he took the newly-restored Richard Mariner and tried to rebuild his memory as effectively as he had restored his sense of personal identity.

  ‘It’s not unusual,’ he explained on a faint line to Robin in Singapore at teatime on Sunday. ‘He is almost bound to go through a period of confusion and disorientation as Richard Mariner comes to terms with what happened to send him into a state of amnesia, and with what has happened to him during the month or so since he went under. Even in a relatively uncomplicated case we would have to contend with this confusion, but with the added complication of the closed head injury, it is very difficult.’

  ‘Will it help if I come straight back?’

  ‘No …’

  ‘You don’t sound certain. Maybe I should be there.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. He has your picture, and those of the twins, his parents, his childhood. Still no obvious recognition there. He used to know Maggie very well as a close friend, she tells me, but there’s no glimmer of recognition there either. If he isn’t reacting to photographs or to close personal friends, you’d probably just be wasting your time. Andrew says you think you’re on to something important down there.’

  ‘Perhaps. I’m going back on board the Seram Queen later. They’ve almost completed turnaround and are looking for a first officer in any case. Look, can you hand me back to Andrew now?’

  Edgar Tan was standing outside the door of his office as though waiting in his own waiting room. He was keeping guard, and under the circumstances he did not feel one bit silly at all. If his phone was tapped, which he said was unlikely, there was nothing they could do about it. But beyond that, Robin wanted to take every precaution possible. She remembered too clearly what Twelvetoes Ho had said to her and she was worried about Triads and pirates and Chinese diplomats — and English diplomats with highly perverse habits, come to that. In her less serious moments, she was aware that what she was most afraid of was her own imagination. This was probably just a small-scale smuggling enterprise which had fallen foul of some terribly violent thugs.

  ‘I can’t see that there’s much doubt about it, Andrew. It’s the only thing that makes sense as far as I can see. I have no idea whether the Seram Queen is carrying anything illegal, but Sulu Queen certainly was. As far as I can see, she was carrying at least one container full of pirate video tapes of the latest Walt Disney cartoon Sinbad. It can’t possibly be out on video cassette legally yet, it’s only just been released in the London cinemas. I have no idea where these things were originally made, where they came aboard or where they were bound for, but I think they began to turn up in the Cat Street market within days of Sulu Queen’s arrival.

  ‘I don’t know whether you know anyone who can give you a lead on what sort of turnover can be expected from dealing in this sort of thing, but if you run into any trouble, I suggest you give Helen DuFour a ring. She can use the Heritage Mariner network of contacts. I dare say the International Maritime Bureau would be a good place to start. I have no idea whether this is the only thing that the Sulu Queen was smuggling or whether there is a range of contraband which the China Queens Company might have been involved with. Until we find Anna Leung — or whatever her name really is — I doubt whether we can find any more hard facts.

  ‘I think we can assume that whatever Anna Leung was up to, Wally Gough was involved in it It’s early days, of course, but Wally seems to have faked a peritonitis attack just before the ship set sail out of the Singapore roads. There is no record of anyone going by his name in any hospitals here, and he and Anna Leung seem to have disappeared at the same time. It seems likely to me that wherever they are, they are together. But that’s just a guess. Edgar Tan is looking into this.

  ‘In the meantime, I have a message which Richard wrote a couple of minutes before Sulu Queen set sail under his command, and it asks me to try and keep a close eye on the Seram Queen. The best way I can think of to do that is to go aboard her, if the captain will take me. He needs a first officer as a matter of some urgency so I stand an excellent chance of getting aboard. She is due in Hong Kong within the week; and that’s wh
at I would like to do unless there is a really pressing reason for me to be there for the opening sessions of the trial. What does Maggie think?’

  ‘I don’t know, Robin, I’ll hand you over to her.’

  ‘Hello, Maggie? Do you think it will help the case if I’m there at the opening of the trial?’

  ‘Legally, there’s no need, of course. You’re not a witness to any incidents involved in the trial. You might be relevant as a form of identification or even a character witness at this stage but that’s all. On the other hand, if you can come up with evidence that something was going on aboard these ships beyond Richard’s knowledge when he became involved with the Sulu Queen, anything which might explain what happened in terms other than that he took the weapons held by the prosecution and committed mass murder, then obviously it will help us — if the facts can be proven and supported by independent witnesses and can be presented to the court within the relevant time frame.’

  ‘OK. I’m going back on board the Seram Queen, then. It’s what Richard wanted, I think, and there’s a strong possibility that I can find out what is going on, especially if I settle in as first officer and lading officer. I’ll stay in close touch, though. And in the meantime, Edgar Tan will follow up the most important elements here, which means looking for Anna Leung and Wally Gough.’

  *

  Robin and Edgar held one last council of war later on that same Sunday afternoon. They were in the Long Bar again, drinking tea. Robin had moved her baggage out of her room and was all set to join Seram Queen as she got ready to sail before midnight. ‘You’ll be able to contact me,’ she explained. ‘Just use this number and you’ll be patched through to the ship’s radio room.’

  He took the number and folded it into his wallet, thoughtfully.

  ‘I won’t be able to do anything or go anywhere for six days. Seram Queen’s due at Hong Kong next Saturday and I’ll be free to move from then. By that time, of course, I hope to have a clear idea of what is actually going on.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s just too risky?’ he enquired when she stopped speaking.

  ‘That’s a good question,’ she admitted. ‘But I simply do not know the answer. There’s a chance that whoever attacked the Sulu Queen may have a motive for attacking the Seram Queen too, I suppose, but it seems unlikely. What can I say? The rewards seem to me to be worth any risk involved. If I can get a believable, provable explanation for what is going on here then I’ve got a chance to help Richard. I don’t have to prove everything down to the last detail, just enough to make the jury think again. Remember, they have to be convinced “beyond a reasonable doubt” before they can return a verdict of guilty. That’s as true in Hong Kong as it is in England. All I have to do is introduce a “reasonable doubt” and we’re home free. Think of it.’

  ‘I’m thinking of the risk you’re running.’

  ‘I’ll keep a good lookout. Anything that doesn’t look right, any hint of trouble and I’ll be on the radio screaming for help, believe me.’

  ‘But you’ll be on a ship which could be up to three days away from a proper port. There’s no end to what can happen in three days.’

  ‘No. Seram Queen might be three days out of Hong Kong or three days out of Singapore in terms of sailing time, but she’ll never be more than two hours’ flying time away from either Singapore or Hong Kong — and there’s Sarawak, and then the Philippines only half an hour away.’

  Edgar saw that she wasn’t going to change her mind. ‘All right, so there’s all those places,’ he said. ‘And there’s this too.’

  He placed on the table in front of her a battered, inconspicuous leather case. She tilted her head like a bird surveying an unexpected peanut. ‘What’s this?’ she asked. ‘Christmas?’

  ‘This is highly illegal,’ he said. ‘Take it, please, and I will show you the best way to conceal it.’

  She opened the top of the case and gasped. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Insurance,’ he said, looking intensely at her over the top.’It’s called a Glock. It’s so small that it looks like a toy but the clip will hold thirteen bullets and it will Are individual or automatic. The clip is full with one shell in the breach. It is ready to fire once the safety is off. The bullets are called Glazer rounds. Each one will stop an elephant. The funny looking bit on the top is a laser sight. That’s for people who can’t shoot at all. When the gun is up it shines a red dot and where the dot is, that’s where the bullet goes. Almost any range, almost every time. This switch is the sight and this one is the safety. They both go the same way, see? On, off. Other than that, all you have to remember is to hold still and pull hard; it’s a double catch. Take it. You might need it.’

  ‘Richard had that big thing, that Smith and Wesson,’ she said. ‘It didn’t seem to do him much good.’

  ‘You don’t know that. He’s still alive; nobody else is. It may have done him all the good in the world.’

  ‘What can I say?’

  ‘Just get it back to me once you’re safely in Hong Kong.’

  ‘Even if I have to smuggle it.’

  ‘You will. You can’t just post these things. You’re going to have to smuggle it onto Seram Queen and hide it. Hide it safely, but close at hand.’

  ‘Right. Thanks, Edgar.’

  They transferred all the papers from her big briefcase into the old case on top of the gun which sat snugly in recessed foam. By the time they had finished, it was impossible to tell that the little weapon was there.

  ‘Now what about your part?’ said Robin when they had finished. ‘You have to find Wally Gough and this Anna Leung character. You know that anything they discover at Heritage Mariner, or anything passed to Heritage House by the International Maritime Bureau, will come into the China Queens office. You have the keys?’

  ‘Yes. I have the keys. I’ll check twice daily.’

  ‘And in the meantime, could you keep an eye on First Officer Chin Lau in hospital?’

  ‘I’ll be giving him the third degree right there in the ward. I want to know everything he can tell me about the Seram Queen, her officers and crew.’

  ‘Be gentle with him. He’s had really serious malaria; he’s lucky to be alive. And, what else?’

  ‘I’ll check Changi Airport again now that I know I’m looking for two people. But I really don’t think they left that way. I wouldn’t. I’d go by boat.’

  ‘What size boat?’

  ‘Depends on destination,’ Edgar answered, aware that he was speaking to a master mariner. ‘But it wouldn’t take much of a boat to island-hop across the Selat Durian to Indonesia. Then it’s wherever you want.’

  ‘Only if you can get across to Padang. Sumatra’s a big island.’

  ‘Why do you think they invented the jeep?’ he laughed. ‘For crying out loud, they’ve got buses which run across.’

  ‘True. But if you’re island hopping anyway, why stop?’ she mused.

  He shrugged his grudging agreement. ‘You could hop islands all the way round to Japan. Jesus, you could probably hop all the way up Japan and across to Vladivostok, if you wanted. And if the pirates don’t get to you first.’

  ‘But I thought we thought Anna Leung was working for the pirates.’

  ‘Now there,’ he said, his voice like silk, ‘I believe you have a point.’

  *

  Robin went out to Seram Queen with the pilot, but it was a stranger this time, not Ram Seth. The pilot and the cutter crew waited cheerfully enough, however, as she went through the usual procedures, opening Edgar Tan’s briefcase with a look of innocence to take out, one at a time, the papers which the authorities required before letting her depart on the waiting cargo vessel. The pilot and the cutter’s crew looked strangely at her but she shrugged, elated by her first serious, and successful, piece of smuggling, and reckoning that she might as well get used to this sort of thing now as later. This time she had brought her shoulder bag into which the little briefcase fitted securely. The Jacob’s ladder was no problem, especiall
y in the absolute calm of the monsoon-freshened evening.

  Captain Sin had not really wanted her aboard, but he had been desperate to get a competent lading officer. There must have been some officers on the beach in Singapore, waiting for berths and available, but Sin would have had to have gone looking for them, and he was falling behind schedule. What with having to send Chin Lau in to hospital — an action he had only taken when Robin and the ailing officer had prepared all the cargo details for the computers and the authorities in the Tanjong Pagar container terminal — and then having to wait because of damage done to the automatic container loading system by the storm, turnaround had taken nearly four times the usual nine hours, and then he had had to wait until this evening for final clearance. Nearly forty-eight hours all in all. Enough to get even a captain in trouble, these days. It must have occurred to Sin, therefore, that if he had a member of the board as a senior officer, no one was going to hold the delay against him. That was one of the things Robin was counting on to get her aboard and to keep her safe. That and Edgar Tan’s gun.

  She ran on ahead of the pilot, leaving the gruff official to the tender mercies of the lugubrious Second Officer Wai Chan. Had she been captain of this vessel, she would have wanted her first officer on the bridge and she saw no reason to expect Sin’s standards to be lower than her own. She paused at the door of the first officer’s day room to sling her weekend case into the space left by the removal of the day bed, and then she hesitated. No, given what it now contained, she had better keep it with her until she could put it safely under lock and key. She carried it with her and slid it safely under the chart table as she reported to the commanding officer.

  By the time the pilot arrived, the first officer — of unusual gender and uniform — was standing beside the helmsman looking out, slit-eyed, across the Singapore Strait; ready, willing and able to guide the Seram Queen along the course recommended by the Ocean Passages of the World and the Admiralty Pilot for the South China Sea. She had checked it out this afternoon and she could almost see it stretching ahead of her along the 1,450 old-fashioned nautical miles, NE to Pulau Aur and Kepulauan Anambas; passing NW of the Udang Oilfield and SE of the Charlotte Bank; between the Paracel Islands and the Macclesfield Bank, up the long haul NE, then hard round past the Vereker Bank and into Hong Kong itself.