Man Overboard!

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Man Overboard! Page 9

by Curtis Parkinson


  Not till all the lines were similarly secured did Scott have time to pause and look around. The first thing he saw was the Packard, parked across the road, Colette getting out, and Adam leaping ashore. A shout stopped him cold.

  “Ahoy, you there!” It was Captain Plum from the bridge. “No one’s allowed ashore here except deckhands. Get yourself back on board this minute!”

  Adam hesitated, then grabbed Colette’s hand. “I can’t stay. Come over here and talk to me.” He led her to the ship, then, aware of the captain glaring down at him, jumped back on board. “I’ve been looking all over Montreal for you,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “I’ve been wondering about you too,” Colette said. “I’m happy you got back to your ship all right, after your escape. But there is something important I have to tell you –”

  “I hope they didn’t blame you for my escape,” Adam interrupted.

  “No, Vandam blamed poor Tyler, which isn’t fair, but, Adam, something else has happened that –”

  “Vandam? I thought he’d left in the Chris-Craft!”

  Colette stamped her foot. “Adam! Listen to me. Heinrik says your ship will … how you say? … explode. You must do something.”

  “Explode? Heinrik said that?”

  “He admitted to Twitch that his mission was to blow up a ship in a lock and block the canal. So he planted a bomb. Twitch told me he’d bring me here, but I would have to do the talking. He used to drive for the Mafia and won’t have anything to do with the authorities.”

  Scott couldn’t help overhearing. “Good Lord, a bomb!”

  “Yes, and you must find it,” Colette urged. “Before it’s too late.”

  Adam and Scott exchanged looks. “The captain,” they both said, and they stared up at the bridge, where Captain Plum was glowering down at the girl who was keeping his crew from their duties.

  “You go,” Adam said.

  “No, you go. I have to stay on the dock and take care of the lines.”

  “Do something,” Colette urged. “Quickly.”

  At that moment, Charles appeared. “What’s going on with you guys? You heard the captain. Get back to your posts.”

  “But Colette says a bomb’s been planted on the ship,” Adam protested.

  “What!”

  “A bomb. Planted by a German agent.”

  Charles’ expression hardened. “If you’re pulling my leg …”

  “He isn’t, I swear,” Scott chimed in. “Colette says Heinrik –”

  “Hold on a minute,” Charles interrupted. “Who’s this Heinrik, and who is Colette?”

  «Je suis Colette,» Colette said.

  Charles looked across the gap at the girl standing on the bank. «Eh bien!» he said and immediately launched into rapid-fire French neither Adam nor Scott could follow.

  Charles and Colette talked at length until Charles finally turned to them. “Hard to believe,” he said, “but Colette’s story sounds genuine. It’s possible this Heinrik could have planted a bomb on board yesterday.”

  “I’m glad you got it directly from Colette,” Adam said. “I had no idea someone named Charles would speak French like a native.”

  “Ever heard of Charles de Gaulle?” Charles said curtly. “I am French. But never mind that. There’s no time to waste if there’s a bomb timed to explode in the lock! I’m going to see the captain right now and recommend an immediate search of the ship.”

  “But I must warn you,” said Adam, “the captain will be hard to convince. I tried to tell him about the Nazis before, but he seemed to think I made it up to excuse missing work last week, especially when he heard there was a girl involved.”

  “Maybe so,” Charles said, “but I certainly don’t intend to sit here and do nothing. In my opinion, we should call in the RCMP and have the ship searched by professionals. I’ve been through enough explosions already in this war.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  In the lock, an eastbound freighter was slowly sinking to their level. There was one other westbound ship waiting at the dock, ahead of the Rapids Prince. When that ship entered the lock and was raised, it would be their turn next. And time was passing.

  Scott looked up at the bridge, where Charles was talking to the captain. It looked like he was having a hard time convincing him. The captain stared balefully at Colette on the dock and at Twitch in the Packard across the road.

  Scott was beginning to sweat. There was the entire ship to search!

  Finally, Charles left the bridge. Arriving below, he looked perturbed. “The captain doesn’t put much stock in this business. He’s not about to call in the RCMP based on what a teenage girl and a chauffeur tell us. It will make him look a fool when they don’t find anything. He thinks we’re getting all worked up over nothing.”

  “You mean, we’ve got to sit here and wait to see if the ship blows up?” cried Adam.

  “We’re not going to do that,” Charles said. “The three of us can search the ship. We haven’t got long until it’s our turn in the lock. Where’s a likely place to hide something so it won’t be noticed – even if it’s ticking?”

  They were silent, each one mentally going over the ship.

  “The lifeboats!” Scott said suddenly. “They’re hardly ever used, and they’re covered, so a bomb wouldn’t be seen.”

  “Of course!” Charles said. They rushed up the stairs to the upper deck, drawing curious glances from the other crew members.

  “I’ll start here,” Charles said, undoing the catches that fastened the canvas cover on the first lifeboat. “You guys take the next two. If you see anything suspicious, don’t touch it.”

  They searched each lifeboat carefully, peering under the seats, unstrapping the life preservers, and opening the emergency-rations containers. Nothing.

  From the upper deck, they had a good view of the lock. Scott could see that the gates were open and the freighter ahead of them was entering. It was their turn next.

  “The lifeboats are clean,” Charles said. “Where are the other places Heinrik could hide a bomb?”

  “There’s the dining room, of course,” Adam said. “But the steward would have a fit if we went in there and messed it up.”

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Charles said.

  He must have put a scare into the steward, because the next thing Scott and Adam knew, they were called in and told they could search anywhere they wanted.

  They peered under the tables, behind the drapes, and in the cupboards, hauling out any serving dishes large enough to accommodate a bomb. Again, nothing.

  They searched the lounge and behind the stacked deck chairs. Still nothing.

  “Now what?” Charles said. “No point in searching the engine room – that’s the chief engineer’s domain and he never allows passengers down there. That leaves only the lower deck, but you guys are usually around down there. We’re running out of options.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t doubt that Colette is telling the truth, but I’m beginning to think that Heinrik may be playing tricks on us.”

  “How do you mean?” Adam said.

  “Maybe he wasn’t even here. Maybe he planted the rumor but not the bomb. Then we’d do a thorough search, but when we don’t find anything, we would treat the next scare as just another false alarm.”

  “But he was here. I know, I saw him getting in the taxi,” Adam said.

  “But are you sure it was him you saw?”

  “Pretty sure. He was in disguise, but I saw his blond hair when his cap fell off. And it’s easy to fake a limp, and he was as tall as Heinrik and –”

  “Wait a minute,” Scott interrupted. “You say he was tall and had a limp? Then he was here!”

  “He was?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t recognize him. The purser took some of the passengers on a tour, and he brought them down here. When they left, a man, just like the one you described, didn’t go along with them.”

  “What did he do then?” Charles asked.

  Sco
tt pointed to the crew’s washroom. “He went in there.”

  “The crew’s washroom?” Charles said incredulously. “But it’s so tiny, you can hardly turn around. Where could you hide a bomb in there?”

  “The toilet tank?” Scott suggested.

  They dashed for the washroom so quickly that Scott and Adam got tangled in the doorway.

  “Wait, let me look,” Charles said. They stood back. Charles entered and cautiously lifted the lid on the toilet tank. He peered in. “There it is, all right! It’s taped to the inside of the tank.” He stood back to let Scott and Adam look.

  “Wow! Look at that! But how do we get rid of it? Throw it overboard?”

  “If you touch it the wrong way, it can detonate,” Charles warned. “I’m not fooling with it – that’s a job for a bomb-disposal expert.”

  “I can hear it ticking,” Scott said.

  “The whole ship should be evacuated immediately,” Charles announced. “Once the captain sees it, I’m sure he’ll agree. In the meantime, don’t let anyone near it. Thank God we found it!”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  They’d never seen the captain move so fast. He came shooting down the stairs, stared at the device for a moment, then raced back up, not saying a word.

  “He’s not taking any chances,” Charles said, when he returned from the bridge. “We’re to evacuate the ship immediately, and he’s getting the RCMP to come and dispose of the bomb. Until they get here, the ship won’t budge from the dock.”

  “But Heinrik couldn’t have known what time the Rapids Prince would reach the first lock, could he?” Scott asked Charles, as they waited by the side of the road with the rest of the crew. “So how could he have set the timer on his bomb?”

  “He probably asked questions when he was on board Sunday,” Charles said. “And even if his timing wasn’t dead-on and the bomb went off too soon, or too late, and sank the ship in the canal, it would still block shipping for a while. Not for as long as a badly damaged lock would, though.”

  Scott turned to stare at the ship, picturing her blown to smithereens. He imagined the thoughts running through the crew’s minds – some lamenting the end of their summer jobs; others more concerned about the loss of ammunition, food, and essential supplies for the Allied armies; still others worried about their personal effects, and the captain about the loss of his command.

  In the distance came the faint wail of a siren. As soon as Twitch heard it, he started up the Packard and sped away, tires squealing. “Will he come back to drive you home, Colette?” Adam wondered aloud.

  She shook her head. “I think we’ve seen the last of Tyler now that the RCMP is involved. But I can take a bus back to Montreal, once I’m sure you’re safe.”

  The siren became louder. A van raced up and the bomb-disposal expert got out with his equipment. Charles led him on board and showed him where the bomb was.

  “Looks like a powerful one,” the man said calmly. “You’d best clear out before I get to work.”

  Charles waited tensely with the rest of the crew by the road. As the minutes ticked by, the suspense mounted. “Does anyone remember a man asking questions about the ship during the trip to Montreal yesterday?” he asked, mainly to divert their attention.

  “What did he look like?” someone wanted to know.

  “A tall dark man with a cap,” Scott said. “He had a mustache, and … oh, yes, he took a lot of pictures.”

  “Hey, I remember him!” Bert, the helmsman, said. “He came up to me and asked how long it took the Rapids Prince to reach the first lock on our return trip. I thought it was an unusual question, but tourists are a curious bunch, so I –” He paled suddenly. “Good Lord, you don’t mean to say I helped a Nazi!”

  “Don’t worry,” Charles said, patting his shoulder. “If you hadn’t answered him, someone else would have.”

  “Look!” Scott said, as the man they had all been waiting for appeared on the gangway, gingerly carrying the defused bomb. He placed it in the van, and it drove carefully away, the entire ship’s crew cheering it on.

  “Well, that’s that,” the captain said. “Let’s get back to work.”

  Everyone headed for the ship, except Adam, who hung back to be with Colette. “Can we meet when the Rapids Prince docks next Sunday?” he asked anxiously.

  “Of course –” she began, before being interrupted by a shout.

  “Ahoy there, you!”

  Adam looked around. It was the captain, gesturing to him. “Uh-oh, what have I done now?” he said.

  “You two are to proceed to the ship’s dining room immediately,” the captain said, “along with your friend Scott. I have instructed the steward to lay on a first-class dinner for the three of you, white tablecloth and all.”

  Adam was too stunned to respond. For a moment, he thought the captain was going to apologize for doubting them. Until Colette turned down his offer.

  “Thank you, Captain, that is very thoughtful,” she said, “but I really must go home now to let my mother know I’m all right.”

  The captain colored. Used to being obeyed without question, he managed to restrain himself. “I’ll arrange it for our next trip to Montreal then,” he said, and turned away.

  “Well, that was almost as good as an apology,” Adam whispered, as he reached for Colette’s hand.

  Watching, Scott imagined how surprised their French teacher would be when she found that Adam, whose only interest before had been science, was suddenly eager to learn French.

  Not the only surprising event, that unforgettable summer of 1943.

  The End

  AFTERWORD

  It is a matter of record that German agents were put ashore in Canada from U-boats during World War II on at least three separate occasions.

  On April 25, 1942, the first agent landed in New Brunswick from U-213 with radio equipment and made his way to Montreal. He was apprehended in 1944.

  The second landed from U-518 on November 9, 1942, on the Gaspé Peninsula. He was arrested immediately, confessed, and became a double agent.

  The third landing, from U-537, was on October 23, 1942, in northern Labrador. A weather station was set up and remained undetected until after the war.

  In the United States, German agents landed near Jacksonville, Florida, and on Long Island, New York, equipped with explosives and large sums of money. Intent on sabotage, none of their forays was successful.

  In this story, the characters, including the German agents and the captain and crew of the Rapids Prince, are fictional. What is not fictional, however, is the Rapids Prince herself, on which the author served. The ship regularly challenged the Long Sault until the St. Lawrence Seaway, built after the war, drowned the rapids.

 

 

 


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