by Jon F. Merz
“What’s going on?”
“It’s the captain,” said the crew member. Then he broke free from Thatcher’s grasp and continued on his way. Thatcher took a moment to consider and then hurried after the crew.
When he reached the next corridor, he could see that the door to Captain Adamson’s quarters was ajar and there were several crew members loitering nearby. Thatcher pushed past them and poked his head in the door. The ship’s doctor knelt close to where Adamson’s body lay on the carpet. There was a puddle of blood around Adamson’s head but no obvious wound that Thatcher could see.
“He’s dead?”
The doctor looked up. “You’re the pilot we rescued.”
Thatcher shrugged. “Gunner, but yes.”
“I attended to you when they brought you aboard. Glad to see you’re well.”
“Thank you,” said Thatcher. “At least better than the Captain. What in the world happened?”
The doctor nodded for Thatcher to come inside the cabin. As he did so, Thatcher noted that there were no signs of a struggle. The cabin was neat, sparse, and in keeping with the sort of man that thatcher estimated the Captain to be. He knelt next to the doctor. “What happened here?”
“Some sort of blunt force trauma, if I had to guess,” said the doctor.
Thatcher eyed him. “Are you being asked to guess? It seems like you ought to know for sure.”
The doctor grunted. “If I had the proper facilities aboard this ship, then I’d be willing to agree with you. But as it is, this was only just discovered. The captain failed to show up this morning and the executive officer sent a runner to see if he was all right. When the captain didn’t answer the door, the crewman noted that the door was ajar and pushed in. This is what he found. He sent word for me immediately and here we are.”
“How long has he been dead for?”
The doctor frowned. “Again, it’s just a guess but at least four hours. There is some rigidity already setting in. And the discoloration around the eyes indicates as much.”
“Any idea what was used?”
“If it was actual murder and not some sort of accident?”
Thatcher looked around the room. There were a number of odd edges that the Captain could conceivably have knocked his head against if he tripped and fell. But Thatcher didn’t feel like that was the cause here. “We’re in the midst of a war. Do you really think that was an accident?”
“Frankly, no,” said the doctor. “But who would want to kill the captain of a steamer like the Archimedes? Adamson wasn’t some high profile member of the military. What’s the value in eliminating him?”
“I don’t know,” said Thatcher. “But there’s no sign of a struggle, either, which means that whoever did this must have taken him by surprise.”
“He’s still dressed in his uniform,” said the doctor. “Which means this happened either after he got off duty last night or as he was readying himself for duty this morning.”
“What time was he supposed to be on the bridge?”
“Seven-thirty.” The doctor sighed. “He was disciplined; never late. Hence the alarm from the crew when he failed to show up.”
Thatcher nodded. “He definitely struck me as someone for whom the discipline was vitally important.”
“You would find no one else so regimented in his approach to life,” said the doctor. “But even with that said, it appears as though someone got the better of him.”
“Any enemies among the crew? If he was a disciplinarian, was there a chance he’d punished a crew member for some infraction?”
“I’ve heard nothing about any of that,” said the doctor. “The crew loved Adamson. He was more of a father figure to them than an overlord. He took care of his people and was known for helping anyone with a problem. I sincerely doubt you’ll find the killer among the crew.”
“That leaves the passengers then.” Thatcher looked around the cabin but failed to find anything of note. “How many of them are there?”
“In total? Perhaps twenty. We haven’t sold out our berths in some time since most people are reluctant to put to sea what with the Germans prowling the waves.”
“Then we’ll need to figure out who might have had access to the Captain’s cabin and where they were during the night.”
“You as well,” said the doctor rising from where he knelt. “No disrespect intended, of course. But you are as likely a suspect as anyone else.”
Thatcher nodded. “None taken. I’d insist on the same if I were in your position. I wish I could say that I had a solid alibi but after dinner, my companion and I returned to my cabin where the effects of the two bottles of wine took their toll on me and I passed out rather soon thereafter.”
“Immediately upon reaching your cabin?”
Thatcher cleared his throat. “Not quite immediately.”
The doctor grinned. “I see. And your companion, was she with you when you awoke this morning?”
Thatcher frowned. “No, I supposed that she had returned to her own cabin instead of waking me. She would have preferred to be discrete about where she stayed last night, as one would imagine.”
“Indeed,” said the doctor. “And what is her name.”
“Cyra,” said Thatcher. “I know her only by her first name.”
“I’ll have a look at the manifest and find out where she is staying and what the proximity of her quarters are to the Captain’s.”
“I highly doubt she’s the killer,” said Thatcher.
“As do I,” said the doctor. “But we must address each and every person with the means to do so. If we find nothing among the passengers, then we will need to also interview the crew. And we have little time to do so before we dock in Lisbon. Once there, this will become a matter for the British Embassy most likely since they are the representative of the Crown in the region.”
“Understood.” Thatcher took another glance around the room. “Who will have the key to this cabin once his body is removed?”
“I will.” The doctor shook his hand. “They said you were named Thatcher. I’m Wilkins. Glad to meet you.”
Thatcher shook the man’s hand and found it firm. “I appreciate you looking after me when they pulled me out of the Channel.”
“Just doing my job,” said Wilkins. “As I would for any other poor sod who was floating in the drink.”
Thatcher smiled and started to turn when he heard shouting in the corridor outside. Wilkins and Thatcher both raced to the door. Wilkins questioned one of the crew members outside.
“What in the world is going on now?”
“Ship on the radar, sir.”
“How far?”
“Two kilometers and closing fast.”
“Friend or foe?”
But the crewman just shook his head. “She looks like a freighter but she’s running a German flag. And we spotted guns on her as well. One of them commerce raiders we’ve been hearing about, I’d expect.”
Chapter 16
Thatcher and Wilkins ran to the bridge. As they arrived, the executive officer had a pair of binoculars up to his eyes and was scanning in the direction to the Archimedes’ starboard side. Thatcher turned and saw the ship emerging from the horizon. Raider X must have tracked around to their flank to come at them head on. As he watched, the ship started to turn so it was broadside to the Archimedes.
“Why is it showing us her side?” asked Wilkins.
“To bring all of her guns into play if necessary,” said Thatcher. And even as he watched, he could see crew members now scampering all over the main deck, uncovering other firing points. Toward the rear, Thatcher spotted tubes being uncovered that were obviously torpedo launchers. If Raider X wanted to, she could turn the Archimedes into a burning hulk that would sink within minutes.
Wilkins looked at the XO. “Is she hailing us?”
The XO shook his head. “Not yet.”
Thatcher heard a boom and whipped his head around. “Incoming!”
Everyone br
aced but the shell went over the bow and exploded some distance away in the water, spraying an enormous amount of water skyward as it did so.
“Bring us to a stop,” said the XO.
“All engines stop, aye sir,” confirmed a crew member. The Archimedes slowed and then stopped, floating about in the water as Raider X sidled closer to her.
Thatcher watched as the gunnery crew at the lead cannon loaded another shell. He had a spasm in his gut and suddenly did not want to be on the bridge. “They’re going to take out the bridge,” he said then without realizing it.
Thatcher sprinted for the door even as he heard the cannon fire. He dove down the steps that led to the bridge and crashed into the floor of the deck below, knocking his shoulder and head against the side of the ship as the round impacted the bridge and exploded. Debris rained down on Thatcher as he desperately tried to put distance between him and the bridge. The radio antenna collapsed, crashing down across the deck as Thatcher backed away even further. The entire bridge was gone and the smoking, fiery remains blazed. Everyone who had been there was gone. Killed in the moment of the explosion.
Thatcher looked out at Raider X sitting there peacefully some distance away. Would they stop firing now that they’d rendered the Archimedes inert? She was dead in the water without the means to radio for help. And even if she could, they were still too far from the coast for any Royal Naval vessels to come and help.
The answer came quickly. Another volley of shots impacted the Archimedes both near the bow and at the stern. Thatcher could hear the screams of people as the shells impacted and the entire ship lurched from the explosions.
Raider X’s guns fell silent now and Thatcher tried to get his senses back. The concussive impact of the shelling had disoriented him but a few deep breaths helped clear his head. If what Hewitt had said was correct about Schwarzwalder - and Thatcher dearly hoped it was - then Raider X should maintain its vigilance but not fire any longer now that they rendered the Archimedes helpless.
Thatcher rose shakily, gripping the handrail for support. The air was filled with smoke and more people screamed as the flames from the explosions kept growing.
It was fairly obvious to all that the Germans had arrived and that their scheduled stop in Lisbon was probably not going to happen any longer. Thatcher pushed his way through the people on deck. He had to find Cyra.
He found her coming up the steps to the main deck and she looked worried. “Why have we stopped?”
“A German raider is out there ready to sink us.”
“Sink us?” Cyra looked terrified. “I can’t swim.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” He held her close in his arms and then pulled back. “What time did you leave last night?”
Cyra shrugged. “I don’t know, actually. I was quite tired after…that. Perhaps three o’clock in the morning? I’m sorry I can’t be more specific.”
Thatcher guided her to the deck where the life boats were kept. There were already crew members readying the winches to let them down. The Archimedes was starting to list to the port side slightly. The sooner they were off the ship, the better.
Thatcher heard a motorboat of some type and turned to see a smaller craft racing over from Raider X toward the Archimedes. The Germans were coming.
The motorboat zipped up to the side of the Archimedes and Thatcher could see the six German sailors with machine guns trained on the Archimedes. One officer stood near the bow with a bullhorn.
“Attention, SS Archimedes: lower your gangway and prepare to be boarded. If you refuse, you will be sunk. If you do not resist, all passengers and crew will be treated well. You have one chance to comply or we will sink you.”
Thatcher glanced at the few remaining crew members. “You’d better do as they say. I don’t think they’re going to ask twice.”
“We have to get permission first-“
Thatcher grabbed him. “Your captain is dead and the XO and everyone on the bridge is dead, too. Lower the damned gangway and let them aboard. It’s time to think about your own life, man. Get to it.”
Thatcher shook him and then let him go. The crew member blinked and then nodded. He ran toward the lower deck with another crew member and Thatcher heard them lowering the gangway. The motorboat eased up to it and then the first Germans came up the gangway with their guns brandished. Thatcher heard a second motorboat coming and this one was larger than the first, holding about twenty German sailors. He assumed this would be the raiding party that would decide if there was anything of value aboard the ship they could take. If not, they would presumably have charges to scuttle the Archimedes when they were done with her.
The goal now was to somehow get aboard Raider X and destroy her, thought Thatcher. Especially now that gaining his freedom in Lisbon no longer seemed to be a viable option. He held Cyra close and hoped that he would appear to be just another passenger. If he could stay with Cyra, all the better.
He heard footsteps as the Germans rushed up to where they all stood. One of them stepped forward, with his gun aimed at them. “Do not try to do anything foolish. We will shoot you if we have to, but my Captain wishes me to inform you that if you do not resist, you will be well-treated as our guests. You are non-combatants and will be treated accordingly.”
Thatcher glanced around at the rest of the passengers, but noted there were only about a half dozen of them left. No doubt the shell that had taken out the bridge had also killed some of the other passengers in the area nearby. Along with the few crew members he had seen, Thatcher estimated there were only about eighteen people left alive on the Archimedes. That wouldn’t be too taxing for Raider X to move aboard. And he figured that there was less chance of them being put into lifeboats and set adrift. At least he hoped that was the case.
Other Germans now boarded the Archimedes and set about going through the ship to search it for anything they wanted. As they did so, the officer who had spoken to them started directing them down toward the motorboats.
Despite the fact that they were the enemy, Thatcher had to admit the Germans were being extraordinarily considerate of the passengers’ welfare. Especially an older couple who had trouble moving as adroitly as was needed to navigate the gangway. Two of the German sailors even shouldered their weapons to help get them aboard. Thatcher chalked that up to the Captain they served under. He would not tolerate any sort of injustice toward non-combatants. Such a thing would grate on every fiber of his military bearing.
Thatcher helped Cyra into the motorboat and then stepped aboard himself. They waited until the boat was filled and then two German sailors fired up the engine and steered it back toward Raider X. As they cut through the waves, Thatcher got a good look up close at Raider X and saw that she was truly impressive. Her gun ports were all carefully constructed to blend into the sides of the ship. And there were far too many to count. While she wasn’t a naval vessel, per se, she was certainly outfitted for a full range of offensive capabilities. And if this was her practice mission for what she hoped to accomplish in the Indian Ocean, then Thatcher had a better understanding now of why Hewitt had deemed her destruction such a top priority.
More German sailors lined the decks of the commerce raider looking down at the passengers coming toward them. The goal now, thought Thatcher, was to survive long enough to destroy this ship.
Chapter 17
They were helped aboard Raider X by several German sailors while other kept their machine guns trained on them. It was almost like being back in prison, thought Thatcher, although he thought the Germans were being more considerate than the guards back at the jail. They helped them reach the deck, especially the elderly couple, and then had them stand together near the stern of the ship.
Being up on the deck now, Thatcher could see how much more impressive the ship was. While from the exterior it did indeed look like some sort of merchant ship that had seen the better part of more than forty years of service, once on the main deck he could see it was a brand new sh
ip, outfitted with at least a dozen 5.9 inch gun emplacements, bristling with antennas that gave it state-of-the-art communications including Seetakt naval surface radar abilities, and much more. Left alone to do its nefarious work, it could easily send thousands of tons to the sea floor each month. Within a few months, Britain would be starved out of the war.
Cyra stop close to Thatcher and whispered, “What happens now?”
Thatcher shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll tell us shortly. Best just to keep quiet until they do. I wouldn’t want to upset our hosts.”
He glanced to his left and watched as the motor boats zipped back and forth from Raider X to the Archimedes. Some of them carried over the remaining passengers and crew while the others sent over supplies to the Archimedes. Thatcher guessed they were setting scuttling charges that would send the proud ship to the bottom. But watching them work was truly impressive. There seemed to be no wasted effort and Thatcher wondered if Schwarzwalder was watching all of the activity from the bridge of Raider X for later critique. That was why the passengers had been left to stand idly by, the captain was busy watching his men at work. The passengers were not the priority at the moment.
For any commerce raider, the task was always to grab the ship, get the passengers and crew off - provided the German captain wanted that added responsibility - and then look for anything important before scuttling it. Thatcher had heard that there had been one such raid last year that had netted the Germans a treasure trove of classified communications about the British forces in Malaysia. It had been seized and then given to the Japanese. The Japanese had then used that information to plan their invasion of the peninsula and had succeeded in driving the British back. For that, the Japanese high command had presented the German captain of the commerce raider with a prized samurai sword for his efforts.
The sun overhead soon gave way to bloated clouds that threatened rain. Thatcher glanced skyward and wondered if Schwarzwalder would permit them to stand there and get soaked. The answer came soon enough. A German naval officer that Thatcher presumed was perhaps Schwarzwalder’s second-in-command, stepped out on the deck and spoke to the crew watching the passengers. Thatcher was able to grasp the majority of what he said.
