by John Molloy
He then read Danny’s letter. It was short and to the point. It stated that fingerprinting was not complete but the watch keepers that night were a priority, so they had them done first.
The letter went on:
“My contact could only get limited information because the police aren’t releasing much until all prints are complete. However, a print has been found inside the locker in Pippa’s cabin, suggesting the killer may have hidden there while she was out of the cabin. The prints on the door handle were all smudged and of no use; it also shows that the killer could have gained access without the master key if she had left the door unlocked while she was out. Samples of blood, semen and urine were taken from the linen and will be frozen and stored away for further tests if necessary. There was also a small sample of semen taken from a bale of jute which will also be kept in the same way. When I know your next port of call I will send on a full report which I hope to have compiled by then. Please keep yourself safe because we need you. When we know his identity you’ll be expected to arrest him, but don’t put yourself in a position of danger and ask for back up if required.
Good luck Henry.”
He lit the three letters and flushed them down the lavatory.
Henry’s mind was in a quandary about how he could get into Pippa’s room; this was something he kept going over and over in his mind. He decided that when he had a chance he would go her room and have a look for himself. Until now he daren’t take the risk, but he had to throw caution to the wind and get in somehow. He also had to search Tukola’s cabin but this was also proving impossible and frustrating.
Gary Conrad was a little more upbeat when Henry went back to the cabin.
“Did you hear the latest news about shore leave?”
“No, I was in the lavatory?”
“Apparently, we’re getting shore leave from three in the afternoon until, wait for it… seven o’clock. So they’ll be no spending the night with any of the local beauties.”
Henry kicked off his shoes and lay on the couch.
“I suppose it’s better than nothing. We’ll get to do a bit of shopping; I believe they have some lovely stuff here and not too expensive either. Why don’t you go and find out if we can go ashore now. This afternoon, I mean. Ask the chief and tell him we’ll be back for the dinner.”
“Right I’ll do that.”
When Gary left the cabin, Henry was going over Danny’s letter in his troubled mind; trying to figure out how the killer could have got into Pippa’s cabin. He must find out who was first wheel and farmer. He’d get on the bridge and check the log for that night. He knew the score; how the farmer on the watch filled the kettle and washed the cups, and crucially, then had an hour off.
Gary came bouncing in.
“Here’s your sub, I signed for it for you! He threw the money onto the bunk. There’s a shop set up in the recreation room and they’re selling everything from music boxes to guitars and china, kimonos, cameras, binoculars - you name it! Come on and we’ll have a look.”
Henry jumped up and slipped on his sandals.
The recreation room was full of crewmen all viewing the goods on display. Three Japanese men and a woman were attending to the business. Henry was astounded at the amount of goods on display; by the good quality and how cheap it all was. He was taken by a beautiful music box and instantly Shirley came into his mind. How he would have loved to be able to bring it home to her.
He then thought of Vera and immediately purchased a silk kimono in shot pink with beautiful embroidery work.
Gary was browsing around and Henry said to him, “what did he say about going ashore?”
“We can go but make sure we’re back to serve the saloon for dinner.”
“Well I’m off. We still have a couple of hours, are you coming?”
Try stopping me, said Gary as he paid for a futuristic looking transistor radio.
They went back to their cabin with their purchases and then headed ashore. The first two little pubs they came to were actually just on the dock; ‘The Four Roses’ and down a little further was the ‘Bar Mist’. They had one drink in the first pub where the ‘Mamasan’ or head lady, was very frosty with her greeting.
“You from ship Rangoon?”
“Yes we’re from the Rangoon,” Gary answered.
“No girls come bar to meet boys from Rangoon ship. Police say too much trouble.”
They finished their drinks and left. The greeting at the Bar Mist was equally as cool.
“Only drink, no pretty girls come to speak boys from ship.”
Their next stop was at ‘The Bar Dragon’ situated on the next street going up to the main town. They had one drink there. The girls on duty entertaining customers quickly vanished without even speaking to them.
Henry looked at Gary.
“Did you ever feel like a leper? I feel like one now. Come on, it’s embarrassing sitting here?”
They walked on through the busy streets and felt like they were being stared at. They stopped to look into a Pachinko Hall with its bright lights; the noise of the shiny balls as they whirled around the hundreds of machines was deafening. Henry was fascinated by the machines which resembled vertical pinball machines but without the flippers and which cascaded hundreds of steel balls down through a maze of closely grouped pins. The young men with their smooth oily black hair standing in rows before the machines seemed to be somehow mesmerized by the loud noise; their faces screwed up in tormented concentration, excited at the prospect winning. Henry said it reminded him of the slot machines at Blackpool only with ten times more noise.
“Good God, how could you stick that racket, you’d be deaf in no time going into those places, come on let’s move,” exclaimed Gary, as he gave Henry a gentle shove.
Henry made a mental note of where the post office was a little further up the street. Handy to post his letters, must finish them tonight, he thought. They passed open fronted fish shops with the salty tang of the sea coming from fresh seaweed. There was shell fish, an assortment of big whole fish and tuna fillets on ice, cut nice and thick.
“How I would like to take home a basket of those oysters and a large fillet of tuna? Cooking it would be a thrill.”
Gary saw him ogling the fish.
“Do you like shell fish then?”
“Yes, I love it and that tuna, I’d like a fillet of that, but it’ll have to wait for another time.”
They walked on and Henry was surprised to see so many of the younger people wearing western dress; the older ones wore traditional kimono and wooden strapped shoes. The streets were a blaze of color with brightly painted banners stretching across them and shops decked with tall signs in Japanese lettering. The exotic smells were to say the least, unusual; passing restaurants, the tantalizing aroma of cooked food contrasted with the cold smell of fish from open fronted shops. Henry was fascinated by the strangeness of it all, the rickshaw boys pedaling their bicycles and the school boys with their dark blue or black uniforms with brass buttons and stiff peak caps. He had to check himself from staring at people, especially the women carrying their babies on their backs with a thick sash called an obi around their middles. They rounded a side street and into a square which looked like a market. They walked on down through a bustling crowd, shuffling in and around stalls that sold everything from dried fish, meat and game, to rain hats, straw shoes, vegetables and fruit. Henry could feel the watching saurian eyes as he ambled between women busily picking their purchases and packing them into bags. Their shaven headed children perched on their backs with never a whimper or cry. He stood to watch a stall keeper with his abacus moving the beads to tot up the purchases for a customer. When he came to a stall selling dolls and toys, he decided to buy a sad looking Kokeshi Doll. He hadn’t thought who he might give it to as a present. Vera was the only close friend in his life at the moment, so he would keep it for their next meeting.
Gary looked at his watch.
“I think we better be making tracks bac
k, it’s half past four.”
Henry paid the stall keeper took his wrapped purchase and turned to see Gary fitting on a pair of straw shoes.
“They’ll make nice house shoes. I wouldn’t think they’re very waterproof though. Who’s the special lady in your life worthy of your sad doll?”
“Believe it or not I have no one in mind. I just bought it on impulse. I’ll surely find some deserving female who would appreciate the present. Now, we better move.”
They arrived back just in time for duty and after finishing the saloon, Gary decided to go up to the nearest pub and said he’d be back at seven - curfew time.
“You better watch yourself now Gary. If you meet any of those boys ashore you could run into trouble. You only have a little over forty minutes, and what if you are late back, what then?”
“I suppose my shore leave is stopped for the rest of our stay, and from what I hear, that will only be two days.”
He pulled on a coat. “I’m off.”
Henry decided to go up onto the bridge, and if he was caught he would say he was taking down the cups from the radio room the wheel house and chartroom. He noticed the second mate was in his room, as was the chief officer, the third mate he saw going ashore so there could be no one on the bridge except the senior or junior radio officer, and that would be unlikely. He took a tray to make it look like he was on duty. When he came to Pippa’s door he tried the handle - it was open. He hadn’t chanced taking out the master key in case he was caught and they would surely convict him there and then. He walked in and closed the door softly. There wasn’t a sound, only some soft music coming from the radio in the captain’s day room next door. He stood and looked around the cabin; it was quite large and some of Pippa’s unfinished artwork was on the bureau top. He saw stains on the mattress. The Australian detectives had taken the linen away. Her clothes were still where she had left them. No one had had the courage to come in and tidy up her things. He then came to the clothes closet; yes, thought Henry, that’s where he hid, and opening the double doors he saw how large the space was. He was careful to use a handkerchief on everything he touched. The dirty cunning bastard hid in there - that’s where they got the print from, he speculated. Henry closed the doors and stood looking around. There was nothing else of note; no marks on the carpet or any other tell-tail signs. He listened to make sure there was no one around, and gingerly walked out of the cabin.
He walked to the stairs leading to the bridge. The junior radio officer’s cabin was also only half the ship’s width away from Pippa’s cabin. So he’d check his watch times as well. He went into the chartroom and opened the log for the night of Pippa’s murder. Sure enough, Tukola was farmer and he would have come up to the bridge at midnight to fill the kettle and wash the cups. If on his way down he passed Pippa’s cabin and found it open, he could easily have gone and hid there. Leaving the chartroom, he went to the radio shack and read the log. He noted that at midnight on the same night, Sweeney was off watch, which meant he also could have gone into her room. And he would have known that she wasn’t locking her door when she was out - only when she came back in would she lock it. Whoever killed her carried her body across the alleyway and dumped her over the side.
Henry put a few mugs on his tray and made his way down. He went out onto the boat deck where her body was thrown over the side. The killer would have had to pass the captain’s cabin, the senior and junior radio officer’s cabins and open the door out onto the boat deck. He had to be fairly strong and nimble to do that without making noise, and also have nerves of steel. He didn’t want to make a judgment at this stage; he better wait for confirmation of the fingerprint, he mused.
Henry went down to the pantry and put in his tray, the chief steward came in.
“Doing a bit of overtime Tyler?”
“No sir, I thought someone said to go and collect any mugs left around. By the way sir, have you got an address for Panama? I want to send off my letters tomorrow.”
“Come in when you’ve finished rounding up the mugs and I’ll give it to you.”
Henry showed cause by collecting mugs in the officer’s smoke room and then went to the chief’s cabin.
“Here you are Tyler, here’s the Panama and the Havana addresses.”
“Thank you sir.”
The next day Henry decided he’d ask for the afternoon off - he had a few things to do up town. Henry got the ok from the chief steward and set off for the town early after lunch. He avoided the three bars where the reception had been underwhelming. His first stop was the post office and having deposited his mail. he decided to go back to the ship.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Discharging finished at noon next day and a few dozen crates for Havana were loaded. The notice board read, ‘sailing at sixteen hundred hours’. The sun shone from a brilliant blue wintry sky as they sailed out of Suruga Bay. Mount. Fuji was as majestic as ever with its gleaming white cap as they passed it on their port quarter; the crewmen were transfixed by the vista until it gradually faded into the evening dusk.
Henry felt a pang of loneliness that he could not explain as he looked out over the great Pacific Ocean. There were thirty days sailing ahead to reach the Panama Canal. He thought to have visited such a lovely country and having being unable to enjoy some decent shore leave was a little sad.
His next priority was to find which watch Tukola and his roommate would be on, so perhaps he could at last, get to search his cabin. The deck hands were busy battening down hatches and hosing decks. He’d heard some A.B.s talking about the work ahead; having to take down all the grain feeders and shifting boards to get the holds ready for their sugar cargo. He had the saloon duty for the evening meal and when he finished and went to the mess room for his own dinner, he found Gary exceptionally quiet. He seemed to have lost his appetite as he pushed his steak and kidney dinner around the plate.
“What’s wrong with your dinner, do you not like it? You seem to be a bit out of sorts are you feeling ok?”
“Yes, I’m feeling fine but it’s just this ship is getting to me. We have another thirty six or seven days before we get to Havana and then we still don’t know if we’ll get any shore leave.”
“I know exactly what you mean but hopefully, something will happen soon to solve this situation.”
Gary looked around, his eyes darting like a frightened animal.
“There is something going on with one of the ordinary seaman. I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to have said something about seeing a crew member doing something to a girl in Bombay, and their harassing him now to give them more information. He’s denying he said it, but the boatswain and a few others won’t listen to that.”
“Did you hear which crew member he’s on about?”
“No, that’s the problem. Apparently, he didn’t mention a name and that’s just re-stoking the paranoia again.”
Henry finished his meal and brought the crockery back into the pantry. It was still a bit cold to go on deck so they stayed in their cabin. Although Henry would have to go to the recreation room around twenty hundred hours to find out who was coming and going on the watches.
“What time will he give out an issue? I need a few cigarettes.”
Henry looked at his watch, “he should be giving it out about now. Come on, and then we’ll go to the recreation room for a game of darts.”
They stood up to go when Henry turned round.
“I’m not going up there without this,” he insisted, as he slipped the knife into his belt.
Gary ignored the gesture and went to get his cigarettes before returning to the cabin.
There were a few men playing cribbage. The galley boy was sitting on his own so Henry asked him if he wanted a game of darts. They had played a few games when Henry looked across to see who had come in. There was the boatswain and the ship’s carpenter surveying the scene. They were discussing the work in the holds for the coming trip. “If the weather holds good like now, we’ll start in the forward h
olds number one and two tomorrow. You’ll have one gang in number one and I’ll do number two.”
“Will we take down the shifting boards as well as the feeders?”
“I’ll check again with the mate tomorrow. He has to consult his cargo manual; they know nothing, only what they read out of them books.”
“Aye” agreed the carpenter in order not to offend his younger, tougher shipmate.
The boatswain was in his late thirties and from Cornwall. He was connected to the sea from the time he was a child. He could fish before he could walk; fishing was the only way of life he knew. He was about five foot eight tall, barrel chested and as strong as an ox. His shock of unruly, salt and pepper hair fell down his neck and over his ears. He joined the merchant navy at age sixteen and was a hard working honest accomplished seaman who had no time for slackers or ‘weekend sailors’ as he referred to some of the younger deck hands. The recent events had rocked him to the core and defiled all that was good and noble about his way of life. He took the murders personally. To his mind, this was an insult to the code of the sea, and the culprit no better than vermin. That would be the way he should be treated when he was rooted out. His suspicions were mainly focused on the younger men and he had his own very private suspects - men he disliked. Henry fitted into this category.
The galley boy left saying he was going to get his issue. Henry pitched a few darts and waited for what he knew would undoubtedly come from the boatswain; he hadn’t forgotten their last encounter. Henry saw it was coming up to seven bells and the eight to twelve watch keepers would be coming on soon to get their mugs of tea and sandwiches.
The boatswain walked over to Henry.
“No one to play with you, wouldn’t wonder.”
Henry ignored him.
Tukola walked in carrying some cartons of cigarettes which he threw onto a table. He had a string vest on; his mahogany torso rippled with muscle. He had a snake tattooed on his right arm which wound itself around his muscular forearm and ended at his upper arm with its head showing two red beady eyes and a protruding forked tongue.