Tainted Treasure (China Marine)

by Buzz Harcus

  Shading his eyes from the spray, he looked for Captain An-dress. There was no sign of him. Harry yelled out his name time and again against the screaming wind. Feeling around in the raft, he found where Captain Andress’s safety line was tied off. With the last of his ebbing strength, he pulled hard on the line. An-dress bobbed to the surface choking and spitting. Struggling, Harry hauled him back to the raft where he managed to drag him aboard. Totally exhausted, the two men hunkered down in the bottom of the raft making themselves a low silhouette.

  CHAPTER 20

  Storm on the South China Sea

  Nurad battled it’s way through the storm all that night, rolling and pitching, at times listing twenty-five degrees before the relentless seas, slashing wind and drenching rain. Sigmund and his helmsman, Dirk, fought to keep the nose of the ship into the wind.

  Alward stood back clutching tightly onto the chart table, fingers white, face wet with perspiration. His recent dunking in the north China seas frigid waters was fresh on his mind. He tried not to show his concern as the ship rolled time and again but he was fearful. Bert and Doyle, too, grasped the chart table tightly, thankful that it was bolted to the deck. Their knuckles shown white. Like Alward, they didn’t want a repeat of the north China sea incident.

  Below deck in Harry’s cabin, Osa awakened with a feeling she couldn’t describe, one that left her with a sense of emptiness. She glanced at the clock; two A.M. Harry must be on duty longer because of the storm. She lay still feeling the roll and pitch of the ship, glad that she took her dramamine at the first sign of the storm. Knowing Harry was doing his best up on the bridge, she laid back down on his bed, covered herself with his blanket, and soon fell asleep dreaming of when they would be together again.

  When next she awoke, it was almost six o’clock, and Harry was not here yet! Six o’clock in the morning? With a sudden screech she bounded off the bed. It was six o’clock! She had overslept! This was terrible; she had food to prepare! Harry and the crew would be coming to the galley hungry as bears!

  Glancing at herself in Harry‘s mirror, she cringed. She looked like the wrath of god! Quickly she grabbed his comb and ran it through her hair, washed her face with his washcloth, dried, and, hurriedly straightening her clothing, left his cabin. Holding onto the corridor railings to steady herself, she hurriedly made her way to the galley.

  On the bridge, with the faint arrival of dawn across the horizon, those who had mastered the night gave a sigh of relief. A shaft of sunlight pierced the leaden cloud cover lighting a spot on the stormy ocean. Alward took it as a good omen.

  By seven o’clock, working feverishly with Hans, Osa had whipped up a superb breakfast. Harry and the other men would be hungry coming off an extended watch. They’d find orange juice, pancakes and warm syrup, scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, plump sausage, toast and milk and hot coffee.

  Raising the slotted, sliding doors over the serving area, Osa was surprised to find several men already in line. She laughed. The hungry men teased her as they usually did about the food, wanting more, how nice she looked this morning, did she weather the storm okay, and on and on. She retorted with wisecracks and laughter.

  Sigmund came through the line just after eight A.M., an exhausted look on his face. He moved quickly along, wanting food, but not wanting to face Osa. “Vot’s der matter vis you, sourpuss,” Osa cajoled. “No smile today?”

  Alward, next in line behind him, jammed a gun in his back. “I’m okay,” Sigmund replied. “It vas a busy night—”

  “Yeah, we had one hell of a night up in the wheelhouse,” Al-ward said, offering a big grin. “Sigmund was the man of the hour in keeping our nose into the wind.”

  “Vell, good,” Osa beamed. “It vas really rough last night. Say, haf you seen Uncle Karl or Harry yet? Vis dere appetites, I tought dey vould be first in line.”

  She laughed at her comment, but Sigmund didn’t laugh. It was at that precise moment he realized that not only was Captain Andress thrown overboard, but Harry had been thrown overboard, too. “Captain Andress and Harry were down in his cabin the last I saw them,” Alward said jamming his gun into Sigmund‘s ribs. “They’ll probably be coming through the line shortly, right, Sigmund?”

  Sigmund offered a less than enthusiastic smile. “Yah,” he said, “soon.” The two took their trays and moved off to one of the empty tables. Osa turned to serving the next man in line and paid no further attention to Alward and Sigmund.

  Dawn, too, had broken over the small life raft which moved aimlessly along still rising and falling with the tempo of the waves. Although the storm had passed, whitecaps still dotted the horizon. The day looked more promising as the morning progressed. Working with Harry, Captain Andress took stock of their supplies. Still two canteens of water, a small webbing sack of canned foods, and that was it. The oars and half their food supply had been swept away, most likely when the raft had cart wheeled and spilled them into the seas.

  “At least we’re alive,” Harry said as the two soaked men looked at each other. “Yah. Alive. And based on der fact ve saw so many ships over der last few days, ve should be picked up in hours,” replied Captain Andress in an upbeat voice. “Den ve get der bastards! Oh, Harry,” he added, “call me Karl, okay?”

  Harry laughed. “Yeah, seeing as how we’re the only two on this tub, I guess first names would be best.” He laughed again. “Karl it is—and call me Harry.”

  A little while later Karl said, “Harry, you ver right about dos four men. All murderers. Dey all escaped from prison. Now dey are part of a pirate gang.”

  Harry glanced at Karl in disbelief. “All of them? Murderers?”

  “Yah. Alvard murdered his vife und her black lover, den framed an illegal Mexican for der killings. Bert raped and killed a young college girl. Doyle stabbed a whore to death in a fit of anger, und Dingman killed two men in prison.”

  Harry loosed a long whistle.

  “Dat’s vat I vanted to tell you,” Karl said. “Der bastards knew ve ver onto dem. Dey overpowered me ven I answered der door.”

  Harry sat quietly, thinking. What would be the fate of Osa and the Nurad crew?

  By noon the seas had calmed considerably. The sun had risen high in the sky offering heat, which they at first welcomed, but which soon turned into a burning hot cauldron. Their clothing had dried well except where they sat in a couple of inches of seawater. Shoes were removed to avoid puncturing the raft’s thin bottom.

  Karl took a sip of water from one of the canteens. “Only sips,” he cautioned. “Ve haf no idea how soon ve be picked up. I tell you dis because my ship, Viking Prince, vas sunk back in nineteen tirty seven after ve escaped from Shanghai. Damned Jap submarine!” His face hardened. “Ven it surfaced, dey machine gunned us—killed a lot of innocent people!”

  With a shake of his head he continued. “Ve ver ten days afloat before ve ver rescued. So, it is necessary to sip, and hope.”

  Harry agreed. Although they had high hopes of early rescue, the Pacific Ocean, especially the South China Sea where they were, was pretty damned big and they were only a pencil dot on a map, lucky to be spotted at all.

  “Ve vill be in for a rough time from der sun. It burns. It is so damned hot, und den you blister from der salt. Ve take it easy. Save our strength. Ve vill get dose bastards!”

  Harry settled back against the raft looking out across the seas, able to see the horizon line when they crested a wave, nothing but water. “I think that bastard Shen Lee Ma set this whole thing up,” he said, glancing toward Karl.

  “Yah. Der little bastard! I heard vat Ace said when he trew you overboard. I tink Shen Lee Ma und dat Colonel Pui are dealing in pirate trade.”

  “I think so.”

  “I kicked Ace in der nuts as dey trew me overboard,” Karl chuckled after a moment. “I tried to pull him over der railing vis me, but chust got a good kick at him.”

  “You did?” Harry replied, then laughed. “I hope he’s hurt bad!”

  “Yah, me too.” Sett
ling back in silence he looked out across the seas for several minutes. “I vorry about Osa. Dat Bert Kilgrew is a damned vomanizer.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, reflecting on his comment. “I think Osa can take care of herself. She’s a tough woman. In fact, I feel sorry for those four idiots, what with Sigmund, Osa, Sven and Gueder, just to name four, who will certainly take them on. I think those guys will rue the day they decided to take over the Nurad.”

  Karl sat back amused at the statement. He nodded. “Yah, maybe you’re right. Osa has become a very strong person on dis voyage. No longer der veeping vidow, but a good, strong voman. Und Sigmund, vell, he is no dummy. Yah, I tink you may be right.”

  CHAPTER 21

  A Sanitized Crime Scene

  Detective Lui Chang skipped up the steps to the entrance of the Fine Arts building, swung the door wide, stepped inside and peeked around the corner at the cute secretary, Lin Shan. She sensed his presence, looked up and blushed. He was staring at her. “Good morning,” he said, “last night was wonderful. I would like to see you again.”

  She turned her head coyly to one side, embarrassed at the way he looked at her, at his comment. It had been fun. Dinner at the Tivoli last evening. He was a perfect gentleman, and a lot of fun. She had hoped he would ask her out again. Would he kiss her this time, or shake hands again when he took her home? She smiled. “Yes,” she said in her soft lyrical voice. “I would love to go out again.”

  “Tonight?”

  She laughed, a twinkle in her eye, nodded yes, then quickly turned back to her typing as professor Wei came into view. “Good morning, detective Chang, what brings you back to our building?” he asked.

  “Last minute details about the two deaths,” Chang said, slipping away and heading up for the fourth floor storage room.

  “I’ve got a couple of things to check on—” He was already taking the steps two at a time.

  “But I wanted to tell you about—” called professor Wei to the disappearing figure, and then, with a look of aggravation, he started up the steps after him.

  When Lieutenant Chang yanked the heavy metal door open, he nearly had a case of apoplexy; the room had been sanitized! The back wall had been replaced with new gypsum board and painted, in fact the whole room painted. The floor had been scrubbed clean of blood. The whole room was sparkling clean, and the entire floor had been washed. Seven four-drawer filing cabinets now stood in front of the newly painted wall, and several more in front of the opposite wooden wall.

  “Wha-what happened?” Chang heard himself gasp. “What the hell happened here? This is a crime scene!”

  Dr. Wei, still huffing and puffing from climbing the steps to the fourth floor, stood at the doorway. “I thought you were through here,” he exclaimed. “I told the service people to clean up the room and make it presentable again. We need to move more file cabinets in here.”

  “But—but this is a crime scene,” protested Chang. “A week ago today there was a horrible crime committed here. Two people killed, perhaps murdered, and—and—”

  He gritted his teeth, seething inside. “No one was allowed to do anything to the room without my permission!” he managed in a somewhat strained voice. “No one!”

  Dr. Wei bowed, saying, “I am so sorry. I thought you were done. There was nothing behind the wall, absolutely nothing.” He looked around, then offered a prideful smile. “I think they did a good job of cleaning up this old musty, dusty room, even found a couple of loose bricks and re-mortared them back in place. Don’t you think the room looks good.”

  Chang could only nod in agreement.

  “They took the heat vent apart,” said Dr. Wei. “There was an oblong metal casing inside the heat vent that apparently had been blocking the flow of heat, even had some black bags inside it. I had them take all of it to the dump. Now the heat flows through the vent well.” He smiled; he was proud of the room.

  Chang could only emit a long groan. If there had been anything of value to his investigation, it had been cleaned, re-painted or thrown out. The room was now useless to his investigation.

  “Yes,” he said to Dr. Wei. “It does look better. It is now a useful room for your department.” With that, he left the building, even forgetting to wave to the young secretary, who looked curiously after his departing figure.

  Fuming, Chang got in his car and drove away. What a disastrous stroke of bad luck! If there had been any clues, any evidence to show that others were involved in the two murders, they were gone now, covered by gypsum board, paint and a thoroughly cleaned storage room. Bah!

  At least the investigation into Mr. Ma’s dealings was underway, he rationalized, and in six months he knew he would have an interesting talk with that sea soldier, Harry Martin, when he returned to Qingdao with the next shipment of grain.

  CHAPTER 22

  Osa’s Unwanted Visitor

  Osa returned to her cabin disappointed. Neither Harry or her Uncle Karl had shown up for breakfast. Was something wrong with the ship? It had been a terrible night, the raging seas, the tossing and bouncing around. With a determined look, she decided to go and find those two idiots herself. She’d personally march them to the galley to eat! They should always start the day with a good hearty breakfast!

  The knock on her cabin door startled Osa. “Harry!” she exclaimed happily, and rushed to the door, flinging it wide open wearing a big smile for him. “Hi babe,” said Bert Kilgrew, eyeing the beautiful blonde. “How’s tricks?”

  “Vot are you doing here?” Osa exclaimed, upset at his presence, taking a quick glance down the corridor hoping for Harry. “Dis area is off limits to der crew,” she said rudely to Bert. “You better leave. Captain Andress made specific orders dat no male crewmember dare come down here—”

  “Babe, I got news for you,” Bert interrupted with a gutteral laugh, “the captain and your boyfriend took a hike over the railing last night.”

  He roared with laughter at the incredulous look that came to her face. “Don’t say dat! Don’t make jokes like dat! It’s not funny!” she snapped.

  “I’m not joking,” he retorted, at the same moment attempting to force his way into her cabin as she tried to slam her door shut. “I threw them overboard myself!”

  Osa’s eyes flew wide in horror, mind seared at the full impact of what he’d just said. The sarcastic look on his face said it all; it was true!

  A long sorrowful scream of pain erupted from her as she burst into tears, shaking like a leaf. Her legs turned to rubber; she was unable to move, unable to stop him as he roughly pushed her back inside her cabin. “We’re gonna get to know one another much better, babe,” he grinned, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Much better!”

  At that instant, a hand grabbed the collar of his shirt jerking him back from the doorway. Before Bert knew what had happened, he was spun around to face the anger of Sigmund Helmstrund.

  Sigmund’s fist connected with a solid punch to his face that staggered Bert. Dazed, dropping to his knees, Bert fumbled for his gun, but before he could yank it from his belt, Sigmund kicked him solidly on the side of his head toppling the man unconscious on the deck.

  “Sigmund!” screamed Osa collapsing into his strong arms, speaking furtively in Swedish, the words tumbling from her mouth, “He said he threw Uncle Karl and Harry overboard! He’s wrong! Tell me he’s wrong!”

  Sigmund’s face, tears brimming in his eyes, told the story; it was true.

  “Why?” she cried, “Why?” Wringing her hands, her head frantically shaking back and forth, she looked fearfully at Sigmund. “What is happening?”

  “Pirates!” he managed hoarsely, a big lump in his throat.

  “Those four men are pirates. They have taken command of the ship!”

  Osa staggered backwards collapsing on her bed, clutching her head between her hands, pitiful moans escaping her. This couldn’t be happening. Not Harry, Not her uncle Karl. No! No! No!

  What kind of monsters could callously throw a man overboard? It was inhu
man! Yet, when she looked up into Sigmund‘s tear-stained face, she knew it was true.

  “We have to tie him up,” Sigmund rasped, pointing at Bert. “He is dangerous. Besides, they will come looking for him.”

  Pocketing Bert’s gun, Sigmund looked around the small cabin for something to tie Bert up with. Spotting Osa’s housecoat, he grabbed the sash from it and bound Bert’s wrists tightly behind his back. Still wiping tears from her face, Osa stepped to her small closet and pulled another sash from another housecoat. “This will have to do,” she sobbed. Sigmund quickly tied Bert‘s ankles. “What will we do with him now?”

  “I don’t know,” Sigmund replied stepping to the door and locking it. Turning back to Osa, his heart went out to her, the forlorn figure, so lost, so hurt, so defenseless. She had lost the man she would marry one day, and her favorite uncle all in a matter of seconds last night. “Come,” he said, beckoning to her, “Come.”

  With a pitiful cry Osa rushed into his protective arms, feeling the strength of him as he held her close, protecting her as Harry would have. She clasped at the back of his neck, her face buried against his chest, holding tight. The thought of Harry and her uncle being thrown overboard to the sharks sickened her. How could it have ever happened? Why did it happen? Would she and Sigmund be next?

  Holding Osa in his arms like this, so much the way he had fantasized so many times before, left Sigmund feeling awkward. And yet, just touching her, holding her, comforting her, the softness of her body pressed to his, inhaling the faint trace of perfume. It was more than he could bear, so beyond his fantasy.

  No! He had to stop the terrible thoughts transgressing into his mind; he was here for her! She had to know he would protect her no matter what happened.