by John Molloy
Back down in his cabin there was humidity and the stale smell of human bodies. The need for a breath of fresh air and to feel the breeze along the ship’s deck was paramount in this confined existence. To everyone’s relief, there was a noticeable easing in the ship’s pitching as the evening approached. The days and nights that followed were hot, but a westerly wind kept the ship cooler; sleep was less fitful and there was a noticeable cheerfulness among the crew.
Henry wandered down the crew’s alleyway on a few occasions when he knew Tukola was playing darts and his roommate was on watch. On one particular occasion, he passed the cabin and the door was open. Seeing no one around, he looked in. The room was neatly kept like most seamen’s cabins as they were subject to inspection at any time by the chief officer. He was tempted to go in but realized how useless a few minutes search would be, and if he was caught he’d be reported as trying to steal from his shipmates. The frustration got to him at times but he resolved to be patient - a single slip up now could be detrimental to the whole investigation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was fifteen hundred hours when they dropped anchor in the straights of Colombo. The ship’s agent came in the first launch and left shortly after, taking the captain ashore. There were ships anchored all round; rusting tramp liberty ships, all types of dry cargo vessels, small coasters that had survived the war and beautiful, sparkling clean passenger liners on the Australian run.
The boat girls were climbing the accommodation ladder and making their way around the decks carrying their baskets of wares for sale. The small boats that ferried them from shore to the ships waited not far off, their young man handler usually spending his time fishing. The baskets, although they had some small trinkets for sale were only a ruse; these girls ended up in the crews’ cabins selling sexual favors. If there wasn’t money - any denomination would be acceptable - they would accept the next best trade item; cigarettes. Henry was standing in the alleyway where they disembarked from the accommodation ladder. He was watching for the red cloth hanging from a basket. All the girls looked much the same, petite, graceful and beautiful. They wore colorful light cotton dresses and shapeless loose tops over baggy leggings. He noticed one who was taller that the others. She had a demure air about her. She stood looking around when she stepped onto the deck. Henry noticed the red cloth immediately and approached her. She stopped and smiled a welcoming and warm full lipped beam. Henry returned the smile.
“Would you have a Buddha?”
“I will come to your cabin if you want to buy some of my nice things,” she said, as she ran her hand through the basket lifting up some gaudy necklaces and bangles.
“This way. I hope my roommate isn’t there.” The cabin was empty, so he beckoned her to come in. He could hear giggles and other noises coming from cabins up and down the alleyway. He closed the door and put the catch on it so Conrad couldn’t open it. If he had come along, he would have taken it for granted that Henry had one of the boat girls for company.
She laid her basket down and held out her hand.
“I’m Dhanya, please meet you Henry.”
“You know my name?”
“Yes, I was told your name and what you look like. A very nice handsome man I think.”
“You are a very beautiful girl and I want to thank you for doing this for me.”
“I have your letter here Henry.”
Henry was expecting her to hand him the letter, but he got a big surprise as he watched her lift her loose top and pull down her leggings. He looked down and sticking out of her thin cotton panties was the envelope. She pulled it out and laughingly sniffed it before handing it to him.
“Nice smell, you like Henry?”
“Wonderful, the spy with the lovely panties,” he joked.
Slowly, she removed her panties.
“You like me, must hurry before ship go.”
“But Dhanya, you work for the police?”
“No Henry, I work for me but my friend in police ask me to do this for him. All other girls know me, so not suspicious. Now, you like make love me. No money, just make love. I feel very much I want you fuck me.”
The vision of her sensuous nakedness made Henry’s lust run wild. He quickly undressed and lifted her onto the top bunk. She was expert and held Henry at bay until she was ready for him to enter her. She straddled him. At first her movements were slow and deliberate. She gradually increased the tempo until both could hold back no more.
Afraid of being disturbed, and eager to read the letter she had so imaginatively delivered, Henry gestured to her to climb out of the bunk and wasting no time, they both got dressed.
Henry felt ashamed that he had no ready money to give her. “Oh dear,” he muttered to himself as he opened a drawer and took out a carton of Lucky Strike. Dhanya was tidying herself in the mirror. He picked up her basket and dropped in the carton.
“Thank you Henry. I must go do some business before ship sail. Not want to sail on ship, too many men. Not able give all fuck!”
He watched her trot down the alleyway her basket tucked under her arm as he picked up the letter and headed to a quiet part of the ship to read it. He saw there was no name on the envelope, and the letter itself was typed. His face turned deathly pale as he started to read:
Dear Henry,
I hope this letter reaches you. The situation here has turned very precarious since you left. The young girl Nilima was found dead in the alleyway at the back of The Blue Orchid on the afternoon your ship sailed. Her body was partly concealed but her small bag had been deliberately put under the body, because if it had been seen it would have been stolen. Now whoever did this had a motive because your name and the address of the ship’s agent in Melbourne was in the bag. I’m almost certain the person who killed Nilima was not your man; there were no similarities to the other murders and Nilima was stabbed through the heart, not strangled like all the other girls.
Shocked to the core, Henry stared blankly into space; several minutes passed before he was composed enough to read on.
The matron was taken in for questioning and she said she saw you there with Nilima the night before, but she doesn’t know what time you or Nilima left as she fell asleep and didn’t wake until early next morning. Wollf and I have a dilemma because we can’t disclose your true identity. To tell the local police chief here would be the same as publishing it in the daily paper - there is no such thing as confidentiality in the Indian police force. The chief of police has issued a warrant for your arrest. It is lucky your ship had sailed or you’d be languishing here in a Bombay prison awaiting trial which could take anything up to twelve months. Then he went to the court to get an arrest warrant for you served at Colombo when you arrive there. The British consul had his barristers delay it as long as they could in the courts, but it’s been sent to Colombo and is there now. The British consul there has been advised to have the court proceedings delayed as long as possible, so hopefully, your ship will have sailed before this warrant becomes enforceable. If you are arrested there the extradition to India is only a formality, but you are safe once you leave that jurisdiction. However, I don’t know your ships full itinerary, but you would not be safe in Pakistan or Bangladesh. So if your ship is coming back to any of these countries you better not be on her.
Henry, I can say almost with certainty that I know who was behind the killing of Nilima. It most certainly was the work of the Lord and his henchmen. He had the perfect motive: he would have known that getting you implicated in this crime would mean our whole investigation would collapse.
However, and almost unbelievably, it has since become clear that Oswyn Welland is not the killer. Our man tailing him said he didn’t leave the tea plantation until six hundred hours on the day the ship sailed, and he only joined the ship an hour before sailing, as you probably know. The reason we can be sure of his innocence is because there was another girl killed the night before the ship sailed. Her body was found two days after the ship had left Bombay aft
er her family reported her missing. She had been working the dock area the same as the girls we saw, only this one was very young and had only been working there a short time. She wasn’t known to the other girls. Her body was found concealed under bales of jute. Her killing had all the hallmarks of the other murders. She was beaten and strangled by two strong hands; so savage her neck was broken. A pierced earring was torn from her ear as was a small nose ring. Her mouth was stuffed with cloth ripped from her garments; her vagina was also stuffed with cloth. And she had been brutally raped. There were fish hooks stuck along her nose and ears and part of the lip of her vagina was cut away. This was a most vicious attack on a young defenseless girl. Her name was Moyna Jahnavi Padnesh.
Henry took a number of very deep breaths before reading the final part of Fokir’s report.
So Oswyn Welland could not possibly have been this poor girl’s killer. And here is the really tragic bit, Henry. This means that the Lord, in trying to protect his son, whom he obviously had his doubts about, had Nilima murdered in vain.
I am truly sorry to be the bearer of such terrible news, but there is one small positive to come out of this tragedy: It looks like you have only three suspects to focus on now.
Good luck Henry.
For security reasons the letter wasn’t signed.
Henry stood motionless, staring at the letter in shocked disbelief. Taking a lighter from his pocket, he lit the paper and watched it burn to a fine ash on the deck. His mind was in free-fall. My God, he thought; if they arrest me here this whole investigation is over and the chances of they appointing anyone to take over would be very slight. Percy fucking Welland! The ruthlessly incompetent bastard; a young life needlessly snuffed out. A young vibrant, beautiful woman sacrificed on the altar of wealth and social status. What hope of ever bringing anyone to trial for Nilima’s brutal murder?
The sickening irony of someone resorting to murder to preserve their family’s good name was not lost on Henry…
He looked at his watch; it was sixteen thirty hours - time to go on duty. They had been docked for one and a half hours, and probably wouldn’t sail for another couple of hours.
After trying his best to compose himself so all would appear normal, Henry went back to the cabin. Gary Conrad was running a comb through his unruly mop of hair.
“Could do with a visit to the barber,” he said as he turned to Henry.
“Aye, who does the hair cutting on this tub?”
“The A.B. named Mackintosh is our barber. Not too bad as ship’s barber’s go.”
Henry looked in the mirror at his blonde locks and heavy mop.
“Could do with a visit to him myself.”
Conrad buttoned his white shirt and knotted his black tie. “By the way, did you enjoy your sex session with the boat girl? I tried to get in here but you had the catch down. Not that I blame you or anything. Did you get a good one”?
“Yeah, she was a little beauty,” he said with an unconvincing swagger of mock bravado that barely masked the bitter emotion in his voice.
“Well, I had to take my one down to the tween decks and ride her on the bales of jute. The place was like a brothel down there with squealing and moaning coming from all corners. Any of the lads sharing had to go below when their mate locked their cabin door. First come first served, I say.”
Ignoring Conrad’s banter, Henry looked out the porthole and could see the small boats hovering around waiting for their girls to disembark before the ship sailed. He had a view to the city and desperately hoped that he wouldn’t catch sight of a police launch coming towards the ship. Adjusting his uniform, He went to the saloon to serve dinner and noticed the captain wasn’t present. He must be still ashore, he thought, and hoped it wasn’t anything to do with him. If the ship’s agents knew anything about an arrest warrant and informed the captain, he’d be in serious trouble; the resulting furore could even mean the start of the investigation unraveling.
He went through the motions of serving in the saloon. Having no appetite, he skipped his own meal and went out on deck where he saw the captain’s launch coming to the accommodation ladder. Once on board the captain spoke to the chief officer. Henry was so relieved when the chief officer called to some deck hands on the fore deck, “Get ready to heave up this accommodation ladder, and the rest of you men, stand by to heave up.
This meant only one thing, the Rangoon was leaving port, and for now at least, Henry could continue his mission.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Henry’s relief continued when he heard the mate shout up to the bridge from the forecastle head, “anchor aweigh sir.” The ring of the telegraphs was music to Henry’s ears as the ship swung round and headed out to sea. He did notice one small boat, apparently still waiting for a girl as the ship started to make headway to open water.
Although it was hot and muggy he slept, albeit fitfully, he felt a great relief thinking of what could have been, he could be ashore now on his way to an Indian prison. He cursed that Lord Welland had an innocent girl brutally murdered to throw suspicion off his son, and also try to send an innocent man to jail. Vera was right, he needed to watch his back. He also wondered if Lord Welland could have anyone on board in his pay; it seemed very unlikely, but he would have to be very careful.
There was an air of joyful expectancy in the saloon next morning at breakfast. The thought of going to a port like Melbourne had everyone buoyed up a little. The chief officer was discussing some company business he’d heard about from the captain. Then the second steward came into the saloon, he was a little breathless when he spoke to the chief officer.
“The captain wants to see you immediately sir.”
“Is he in his cabin steward?”
“Yes sir.”
He made haste up to the captain’s cabin. The captain was pacing the short space between his desk and the door. “Come in, close the door, I’ve just discovered a stowaway; a young girl, she was sleeping in the guest cabin all night.”
“Is she one of those boat girls? I told those deck hands to make sure they were all ashore.”
“No, she’s not one of them; she seems a well-bred and well-spoken girl and speaks perfect English. In a minute or so, I’ll call her in and we can both talk to her. She seemed perfectly at home in the cabin. I heard a noise coming from the shower as I passed to go down for breakfast and thought some of those rascals were entertaining the boat girls in there and left the shower on. This young girl was drying her hair when I opened the door. Good morning sir, she said to me when I looked in. I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know what to say. I just closed the door. Come with me now and we’ll speak to her.”
The chief officer smiled to himself thinking how easy a young girl could upset the captain; this type of thing was outside his compass. The chief officer led the way and knocked on the cabin door. A cheerful young girl’s voice bid them to enter. She was seated in front of the mirror combing her hair, but rose to her feet when the two men entered.
“Excuse me but I’ve just washed my hair.”
She wore a loose fitting turquoise dress and her beauty was enough to take their breath away. They stood speechless; the captain looked at the chief officer for a lead. She walked up to them and with outstretched hand said, “I’m Pippa Sarojini and I’m leaving Colombo to go to Australia. I must apologize for stowing away on your ship like a little sea rat, but I had no choice.”
“Pippa, the captain smiled what a lovely name.”
“Yes,” she smiled back, “I’m called after my father’s mother whom I never met but I know a lot about her, he told me so much about his home in England and his family. He said his mother loved horses and horse riding and Pippa means lover of horses. My father was a captain with the White Star line and my mother and I traveled quite a bit with him, generally to Australia and sometimes to New Zealand.”
The captain introduced himself and the chief officer. “Will you accompany Pippa to the saloon for breakfast and I’ll notify the chief steward tha
t we have an additional person for the trip to Melbourne.”
The chief officer entered the saloon and all heads turned when they saw the smiling beautiful Eurasian girl.
“Let me introduce our passenger for the trip, this is Pippa.”
The hands spoke in inaudible whispers. “Please to meet you Pippa.” They all rose as she was being seated, she then looked up and down the table and smiled at each and every one. The chief officer kept her in conversation while they ate breakfast; she apologized for having such an appetite but explained she hadn’t eaten for nearly twenty four hours. After breakfast he escorted her back to the captain’s dayroom and she sat on the big leather couch looking around the room while the captain attended to some paper work.
“Now Pippa, did enjoy your breakfast?”
“Yes sir, very much thank you.”
“As you’ve probably done before, you will have to sign the ship’s articles it’s just a formality, you will sign on as supernumerary.”
“Yes, that’s what my father often called me when he was teasing.”
“Would I be intrusive if I asked you a bit about your family life and what made you come on board a ship like this as a stowaway?”
“No sir, you would not, and if I were in your position I would surely want to know the same.
She went on to tell the captain about her early life and how she was the love child of a handsome captain of a cruise liner who she adored immensely. She explained how her father who was divorced from his wife in England, was planning to settle down and marry her mother when he retired from the cruise company. She recounted how tragically, he died of a heart attack a few months before his retirement date, leaving her and her mother destitute.
She said they were both heartbroken by his death and then her mother got a letter from a solicitor in England giving her one month to vacate the house. She said her father had one son by his estranged wife. He lived England. She said that shortly after her father’s death, the son arrived in Colombo to claim his property – their home.