by John Molloy
"I'm very much indebted to you and the good captain."
The door handle slowly turned and the slight squeak of brass on brass alerted her and she turned her head like a frightened rabbit. She quickly stood and picked up her tray just as Captain Leavy-Hobbs came through the door. "Henry, would you please go down to where Miss Twist has gone through and wait there just a few minutes, I'll explain later. It’ll only be for a few minutes."
Henry didn't speak but followed Vera with her tray of clinking china into the little room. She didn't look surprised as she went about washing the cups.
"Can you dry?"
She handed him a clean tea towel.
"Yes, believe or not I'm very domesticated. Looking after myself for quite a number of years now, I'm not too clumsy in the kitchen."
As she washed she handed him the porcelain to dry.
"You must be wondering why the captain asked you to come in here with me, and it wasn't to help with the dishes."
"Yes, I realize that, although it's my pleasure to be of assistance to you."
"Very noble I'm sure, but realistically we, Captain Leavy-Hobbs I mean, doesn’t want you to be seen by the ship's master. Whatever future your investigation holds, if you were one day having to sail on the Rangoon, we couldn't be sure who might be master of her then. He having seen you here in the office might arouse some suspicion, especially if you were sailing under a pseudonym on his ship."
"I'm very grateful for your concern. You seem to have me sailing the high seas already."
Her demeanor changed as she stood looking into Henry's eyes with a fierce seriousness. "If the person you are looking for is a crew member on that ship, I very much want you to bring him to justice."
Captain Leavy-Hobbs came out to the main office and called out. "Henry you can come out now, sorry old chap for the covert games but I didn't want to expose you to any of our ships personnel."
"I didn't realize the implications of what was meant by crew changes and crew members sailing on any of the six company ships. I've a lot to learn about the nautical world."
“Yes, there’s a bit more to it than you may envisage.”
He turned back as he ushered Henry into his inner sanctum.
"Miss Twist, will you hand me the paperwork we have for Henry?"
"Here is the list of the present crew that signed articles in London on the thirtieth of May1958, in other words, a few days before she sailed for Manchester. Next is a list of the crew who signed off in London, and they are the same who signed articles on the sixth of July 1957. Now here is a list of her ports of call and the time spent in each one, from July 1957 to May1958."
"Miss Twist, will you be seated please."
"As you may realize Henry, Miss Twist has been versed by me in what we are about. Without her assistance we couldn't progress very far, as she is the most knowledgeable person in the company on all aspects of ship's personnel."
Henry could see a slight blush rising on her cheeks. It was obvious she wasn't used to this much praise or attention. She took another paper from her files. "Here is a list of crew members from the previous voyage who signed back on in London – crucially, there are only four."
"It’s very interesting to see men sign back on a ship after spending nearly twelve months without leave.”
"I have their names here." She took another page and handed it to the captain.
"Yes, I see one is our radio operator a Sean Sweeney, Irish no doubt as most of these radio men are. Garrett Conrad, assistant steward. He goes by the name Gary; nationality British. Hadar Tukola able seaman, nationality Singaporean, and one of our deck apprentices. Oswyn P. Welland - nationality British no doubt.”
“Would you know if any of these are married?."
"Young Welland is not married, and as I see from their shipboard accounts the other three are also unattached, to the extent that they don’t send any allotments to anyone."
Vera saw Henry was lost, so she explained. "By allotments we mean any monies stopped from a crewman's wages and sent to his wife or dependent every week. None of these four make any allotment, so we are making the assumption they are single, or maybe divorced. There could also be a possibility of not paying any allotment to an estranged wife."
"Have we got their home addresses?"
The captain gathered the papers together and handed them to Henry. “Yes, all that is listed and next of kin, just for those four, not the full crew. If you want any more information about any of the present crew we have it at hand, isn't that so Miss Twist?"
"Yes it's all available."
"Not being too inquisitive Henry, but what will be your next step if you don’t mind sharing with us?"
"I'll take this information to my colleagues at the Yard and discuss it with them."
The captain leant over on the desk as if some secret was going to be unfolded. "And what do you expect the next step to be?"
"If we can somehow narrow it down to these four crewmen, it would increase our chances considerably."
"Just how could you do that?"
"We're going to have to investigate all her ports of call and hopefully, and I'm emphasizing hopefully, because a lot of the countries she sailed would have very shoddy policing, if we can confirm that a similar crime has been committed in any of these ports, it would point to a common denominator of one of these four crewmen."
"I wish you the best now Henry, you'll certainly need it, wouldn't you agree Miss Twist."
"Yes, I certainly wish you every success Henry. This man should pay the penalty for his crimes, and I don’t mind saying, he should hang." She said this with a note of venom that surprised Henry. Her accompanying steely stare added to the drama. She stood and asked Henry for the papers he was holding. "I'll put these in an envelope for you," she said as she left the room.
The captain walked round the desk and stood close to Henry. "We can almost certainly eliminate young Oswyn P. Welland. He's the son of Lord Percy Welland our chairman and largest shareholder in the company."
"Well Bob, that's good to know and certainly cuts the odds down again. I'll be in touch in the next couple of days.”
“Until next time"
Henry left the captain’s office, almost bumping into Vera who was waiting in the adjoining room with a large brown envelope in her hand.
"This is your paperwork." She looked at the door and seeing the captain had closed it, slipped a small envelope into the larger one. "Open this when you are in your room, then destroy it, I'll see you later."
Chapter Seven
Henry clutched the envelope as he descended the steps to the street. He kept on repeating to himself, open this when you are in your room! Then destroy it, I'll see you later. He wanted to go and report to his colleagues at the Yard, but thought it better to sort this mystery first.
The guest house was quiet and he went straight to his room. He locked the door behind him and sat on the bed. With trembling hands he took out the small envelope. He opened it and extracted a small piece of paper: Meet me tonight at the Dorchester Hotel at eight o’clock! Please burn. He lit the piece of paper in the ashtray.
The Dorchester, he mused. Why couldn’t she have made it someplace a little less grand? What has she got to tell me that she didn't want her boss to know? He looked at his watch, it was near time for a spot of lunch, and then he'd meet Vincent and Tom and update them with the latest information on the ship's crew. But he decided that he wouldn’t tell them about Vera and The Dorchester.
Good grief, he thought, he hadn't been to a hotel socially since that great day at The Adelphi in Liverpool when his sister Katherine got married. He had stood in for his father and gave the bride away. He was four years old when his father went to war, and he had missed him very much as a small boy. Being an only son he was the apple of his proud father's eye. He couldn't understand the war and what it was all about and why the Japanese wanted to keep his father in a camp in a far-away country. Who were the Japanese and why did they let
his father die? These were the questions he never got answers to until his late teens and adult years when he learned about the prisoners of war working on the Burma railway – the aptly named, railway of death.
Vincent Benedict and Tom Frazer were waiting for Henry when he arrived at their office. Vincent greeted him. "Come in and be seated Henry, Tom has been going over all the old cases that bear any similarities to our present crime and he has disappointedly found nothing we can go on. Any similar murder or assault has either been solved and the perpetrator hanged or is serving time, and others that are too far back in time to be possibly linked to the present crime. So it seems we are looking for a new crime figure - presumably a young man."
Tom and Henry concurred with Vincent’s assessment.
"To continue, I think he has committed similar crimes and the only way he could have done this without our knowing is they were perpetrated outside our jurisdiction. It adds to your theory that he is on a ship."
Vincent was running his fingers along a gold topped fountain pen, his eyes shone like sunrays through honey; they seemed to hold a font of information and a wealth of experience. He laid his hands firmly on the desktop and spoke in a measured tone. "Have you got the ports of call for the previous twelve months before May of this year?"
Henry handed the sheets of paper from his envelope to Vincent and another set to Tom. He silently admired the efficiency of Vera to have given him three copies. Good grief, he thought as they read their papers, The Dorchester, what could her motive possibly be for asking him to meet her there? Did she just fancy his company or was there something more sinister lurking behind that pretty petite façade?
Vincent looked up. "Well Tom, what do you think?"
"Very interesting, is it correct to say Henry, that just four crewmen signed back on for this present voyage and one of them is the company chairman's son, Oswyn P. Welland?"
"Yes! And Captain Leavy-Hobbs assured me we can eliminate him from our inquiries. His father being company chairman, Lord Percy Welland."
"I seem to recollect some kind of inquiry involving a wealthy family of name.
Vincent, do you remember anything about the Welland inquiry?"
"No, but I'll certainly know shortly when I look up the files and I'll also look up those other three crewmen and find if there is anything that has brought them to the attention of the police.”
He pushed back his chair and held up the page with the list of ports. "I'll have to get an atlas and brush up on my geography - not one of my best subjects. What about you Henry, ever heard of some of these seaports?"
"Believe it or not I'm not even sure where some of the countries are. So you won’t be the only one buying an atlas!"
Vincent sat back grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"You'll know a lot of geography if you have to do a twelve month voyage on that ship, and from where I'm sitting it’s looking very likely that's going to be the only way to go. However, we've got a lot of work to do before we'll know for certain if it's one of these four."
He leaned across the desk tapping with a small glass paperweight. "I'll do the checks on .Welland, Conrad, Tukola, and Sweeney, Tom, will you do the foreign side, writing to all the foreign ports? Some of the larger cities you might be able to contact by telephone or cable. By the way Henry, if push comes to shove will you sail on this ship?"
Henry shifted his frame in the chair and spoke with conviction. "Yes of course I will, if you think it's going to be the only way to catch the killer."
"If it transpires he is sailing on this ship and has murdered girls in some of these foreign countries, it looks like there will be no other way than a detective sailing undercover to try and flush him out. At that it’s going to be difficult and dangerous, because if he ever discovers your identity, you'll be in mortal danger. Another killing to him will be of little consequence, and we'll be of no help to you when you're out on the oceans of the world. Now I'm not pressurizing either of you to take this assignment; it'll be up to the bosses to prepare an undercover man and plant him on board that ship. We'll leave it at that for the present. It could take several days before Tom will have any developments from abroad.
Henry, if you have anything to ask or if anything crops up before we meet again just call. Tom and I will be here every day. In the meantime, will you try to relax and do a bit of sightseeing if you're not going back to Runcorn.
"Yes, I'll be staying around for quite a while. If there's going to be an undercover man sailing on this ship, I’ll certainly be willing. So you need not look any further."
"Henry that’s settled. I’m sure you’ll get approval from on high. I’ll put you forward as the best man for the job."
Tom turned to Henry with a benevolent look. "You have my full backing also.”
Henry left the building and sought out a bookshop where he purchased a large atlas. Back in his bedroom he started to mark in the ship’s itinerary and made copious notes in the blank areas between the maps.
Chapter Eight
He arrived at The Dorchester early, at seven thirty and he decided to spend some time walking around nearby Hyde Park. However, he couldn't enjoy the balmy evening as he shared the beautiful manicured lawns and riotous colored flowerbeds with strolling couples. All he could see was Shirley in every young laughing girl. Her warm smile and trusting eyes, her unbounded love of life. Fate has no compromise. He felt like shouting out: all you beautiful young wonderful people enjoy yourselves, who knows where the dark angel lays in waiting to wrap you in his dark cloak of sorrow.
The sky was tinted a feminine pink as he turned back to the great hotel. Its imposing facade overlooking the green swaths of the park. It was five minutes to eight as he walked to the front desk. He was approached by a young gentleman dressed immaculately in tuxedo with bow tie.
"Excuse me sir, would you be Mr. Henry Carter?"
"Yes that's me."
"I've been asked by The Honorable Miss Twist to show you to the lounge where she'll join you shortly." He led Henry to a comfortable leather lounge chair. "Now sir would you like something to drink while you're waiting, I can recommend our finest scotch, or a beer if it so suits."
"I'll have a scotch with ice please."
Henry took in his opulent surroundings while he waited for his drink. A small party arrived in the lobby. There were bellhops in plenty and a concerned looking manager fussed around. Someone important was a guest, he thought. Yes, he couldn't mistake her as she turned her full profile, beautifully radiant. It was indeed Bridgette Bardot.
His scotch arrived with pomp and civility. Sipping his drink, he mused about the title that was accorded to Miss Twist. What an enigma she was turning out to be. The thought dissolved as he saw her coming towards him. He stood to catch her attention and stepped forward to meet her. He was stunned at the beauty and presence that met him. The high- heeled shoes gave her figure an imposing and very fetching approach; downright sexy would describe it better. She wore a figure hugging off the shoulder, smoky gray dress, with a light silk pastel nightshade blue stole across her creamy pale shoulders.
"Good evening Henry, she pouted. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting?"
"No, I've only just arrived."
"We'll have time for a drink. Dinner is not served until eight thirty."
The tuxedoed waiter appeared out of nowhere.
"What would you like to drink?" enquired Henry.
"I'll have a White Lady".
"A scotch with ice and a White Lady, please."
"I must say Vera, I was pleasantly surprised to receive your invitation, I'm not used to such lavish surroundings."
"It’s something you can aspire to very easily. Wealth can be assumed, and then taken for granted; it’s a type of game with some people."
"Maybe so Vera.”
“I must tell you how beautiful you are, you are full of surprises. The first day I met you I could never have imagined such beauty was lurking beneath such an austere façade, and a titled l
ady also."
She turned as the waiter stood with his silver tray.
"Our drinks Henry."
Henry tipped the waiter; he imagined it was the ‘done thing’.
Vera looked over her cocktail glass with approval; her full painted lips as she sipped her drink was the most sensual act Henry had ever witnessed.
A distinguished man strode through the lounge, and seeing Vera he waved, "wonderful to see you looking so elegant my dear."
"Don’t forget to post me your latest scribbling," she replied.
"You're top of my list."
"Do you recognize that jolly old sport? He's one of my favorite people."
"He looks familiar but I can't put a name to the face."
"Somerset Maugham. I'm sure you've read some of his novels; my favorite is Of Human Bondage. I don’t think he'll publish anymore, he's more or less retired."
"It's a book I've heard of but not read."
A waiter came over and told them their table in The Krugg Room was ready. It was a stunning room of red leather and contemporary glass. Henry realized there was another world most ordinary people dream of but never even see. The menu was a wonder of English and French language, but he managed to order properly. He let Vera order the wine confessing he wasn't a wine buff. Her choice was superb - another indication of her cultured background.
Small talk brought them to the coffee, when Vera saw Henry eyeing the beautiful ring on her finger she thrust her small delicate right hand across the table to him. "What do you see that so intrigues you, is it this precious stone of loneliness and tears?" The magnificent emerald set between two rubies and two diamonds was breathtaking. Her delicate finger seemed inadequate to hold it. "It's beautiful Vera, is it something you inherited?"
"I suppose you must assume that, seeing it’s not on my wedding finger. It did rightfully sit there lustfully and proud. Does that surprise you, because I truly loved all that life could offer? It was my engagement ring. I was to be married to Lord Percy Welland. The date was set and the June wedding was just ten months away; the wedding reception was to be held at Percy's six thousand acre estate, Thurrock Hall, his home and my future home. I was twenty years old and madly in love, he was my first and only lover. You see, his parents were both deceased, and I was mistress of Thurrock Hall in all but name. I still retained my position at my present employer, but of course, Percy owned most of its share capital, so in fact, I was working for my future family business. I spent all of my weekends at Thurrock Hall, much to the chagrin of my parents; I being their only daughter with a doting father. It wasn't proper you know for a young lady to spend overnight time in the house of her intended un-chaperoned.