Pirates' Lair

by Jane Corrie

  `Hi!' Pauline's cheerful voice came over the wire. `Feel like an evening out?' she queried lightly. 'Only John's cousin's on a visit, and I thought a foursome would be better than a threesome, if you see what I mean.'

  `Well Thea replied doubtfully. She didn't

  much care for blind dates, even though whoever it was was John's cousin.

  `Nothing to worry about,' Pauline assured her quickly. 'He's just got engaged to a girl back in the States. The only thing you'll have to worry about is being bored to death by a list of her virtues!'

  Thea's chuckle gave the answer to this. 'Very well, then,' she replied. 'What time, and where?'

  `We'll pick you up,' Pauline answered. 'Say, in about half an hour's time, how's that? Oh, and no need to dress up—well, nothing elaborate, that is, it's a sort of disco place we're going to called Dirty Dick's,' she added happily.

  Thea's eyebrows rose at the name. 'Dirty Dick's,' she repeated. 'It wouldn't be in a cellar by any chance, would it?' she queried dryly.

  It was Pauline's turn to chuckle. 'As a matter of fact, yes,' she replied. 'But the music's good, and they don't charge the earth for drinks. See you,' and she rang off.

  `Oh, dear,' said Mrs Welling as Thea replaced the receiver, 'is that where Pauline's taking you? Only it wasn't quite the place to take a young lady in my day. You did say Dirty Dick's, didn't you, dear?' she persisted. 'Of course, times have changed since then,' she went on musingly, 'and it's probably

  quite respectable now.' She talked on slowly, but did not sound very convinced of this.

  `Well, I don't suppose it was a disco then,' Thea replied with twinkling eyes, as she went back towards the stairs again to get ready for her evening out. 'Still, I know I can rely on you to bail me out if I fall foul of the law,' she added teasingly, and was rewarded by a deep chuckle from the old lady before she went back into the lounge.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THEA chose to wear a sleeveless cotton dress with a multi-floral pattern and wide flared skirt for the occasion, and carrying a cashmere cardigan over her arm, she was ready for her evening out.

  John's cousin Paul was a quiet, unassuming young man whose attention half the time appeared to be elsewhere, and the reason was not hard to guess at—newly engaged young men's thoughts were usually with their beloveds, distance only serving to heighten their affection.

  Pauline's grin and pressure on her arm as they left the car down one of the town's side streets and entered a very unprepossessing entrance to the club told Thea she was as glad to see her as she was to see Pauline, and Thea hoped to be able to snatch a few minutes alone with her to sound her out on future job prospects.

  The lower they descended down the steps that led to the club, the darker it seemed to become, and Thea was reminded of Mrs Welling's comments on its past history. 'They've usually got a light halfway down the stairs,' Pauline remarked. 'I guess the bulb's gone; we must tell the doorkeeper, John, or someone might get hurt,' and she kept Thea close to her as they negotiated the last section towards a dimly lit door at the end of a small corridor in front of them, from which sounds of music could be heard.

  The interior was no better illuminated than the stairs, Thea thought, as they entered the club, and John gave Paul instructions to find them a table somewhere while he waited to have a word with the doorkeeper about the stairs.

  By the time they had found an unoccupied table, Thea's eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, and she was able to study her surroundings during a brief lull between the dancing. The room was a cellar, even though a very large one, and apart from a few posters on the walls depicting scenes from old Chicago in the gun-running days, there were no other trappings, but the place was spotlessly clean, as were the chequered plastic cloths on the tables.

  There were no waiters gliding unobtrusively between the tables here, and whatever beverage was required was collected from a makeshift bar at the end of the room. The whole effect was studiously informal and, judging by the press of customers, very popular.

  As John had still not joined them, although he could be seen from where they sat, enjoying a chat with the doorkeeper, Paul elected to go and collect their drinks, and Thea saw a chance of snatching a quick word with Pauline. 'You wouldn't by any chance know ' was as far as she was able to get, as the dance music started up again, completely drowning Thea's query whether Pauline knew of any job vacancies.

  `Any what?' shouted Pauline, trying to raise her voice against the steady pulsating beat of drums, and Thea raised her hand in a 'forget it' gesture, knowing it was hopeless trying to compete with the music.

  So the evening progressed, and after Thea had got over her disappointment of not being able to have a word alone with Pauline, she quite enjoyed herself. The music was good, and although the dancing area was crowded there was such an atmosphere of friendliness and good humour around her, she was able to forget her troubles.

  Another thought that had occurred to her during the evening was that Pauline would now be free for another fortnight as John was joining his ship that night, and there was nothing to stop her from seeing her on one of these evenings, and this thought had cheered her up considerably.

  They were half-way through a popular dance number when the music suddenly stopped and an authoritative voice cut through the sudden silence. `This is just a routine check and nothing to get alarmed about,' said a uniformed officer, moving towards the centre of the floor. 'We'll have some lights on for a start,' he ordered, and when this was complied with he turned back to the apprehensive dancers. 'It won't take long if you all co-operate. Would all with American citizenship move to the left, and the aliens to the right, with their passports ready if they have them with them.'

  `Looks as if someone's skipped ship,' said John with a grin. 'It's stupid really, it never works. They won't get far without their passport, and the Purser's got that.'

  Pauline gave a giggle and whispered to Thea, 'It's just like the movies, isn't it?' and started to pull her over to the line on the left where John had already stationed himself with Paul.

  `Hold it,' said Thea, 'I'm an alien, remember?'

  and went over to the other side of the room and joined a straggling line of not more than a dozen people.

  Pauline hesitated for a second, then went over to join Thea. 'I'll vouch for you,' she offered. 'Have you got your passport with you?' she asked.

  Thea pulled her shoulder-bag round in front of her and started to look for her passport, then suddenly her hands stilled in the search and she shook her head despondently. 'No, I haven't,' she said slowly, for she had just remembered where her passport was—Marcus had it. He had had to borrow it to claim Michael's estate for her. 'Mr Conan's got it,' she told Pauline bleakly, but did not explain further. 'It looks as if I'll need your help after all.'

  Her bleak expression said more than words, for the old trapped feeling had come back to her with a vengeance. She hadn't been allowed to enjoy just this one evening without her previous involvement with Marcus coming out, as it surely would during the coming interview with the young police inspector who had stationed himself on her side of the queue.

  When it came to Thea's turn to receive inspection, Pauline was not able to give the necessary aid, for when Thea explained that she did not have her passport with her, and when asked where her passport was, having to admit that it was not in her possession at all but in someone else's, she received a very suspicious look from the policeman, who hadn't liked the sound of that at all.

  Pauline's quick, 'I can vouch for Miss John,' was totally ignored, much to her annoyance, and she contented herself with glaring at the policeman.

  The next question was predictable, and there was no help for it but for Thea to give him Marcus's name, adding swiftly, 'My brother worked for him,' in the hope that this would explain everything.

  By now Pauline had reached the end of her tether. It was bad enough being ignored, but she was not having Thea put through all this. 'Look, Jim Strawson,' she said, with a
glint in her eyes. `You know me, and I know you. If I say Miss John's okay, then she's okay. We'll get the passport for you tomorrow, how's that?' she challenged him belligerently.

  The young inspector gave her a slightly embarrassed grin. 'I'm only doing my duty,' he said quickly, then reverted back to the official tone with, `We shall have to contact Mr Conan to verify this,' and looked back at the weary Thea. 'Would you mind sitting over there, please, miss, until I get through the rest of this line-up.' He turned his attention back to the fuming Pauline. 'Why don't you go on home?' he suggested mildly. 'This might take some time. I'll see the young lady gets back home okay.'

  Pauline was all set to argue the point, but John stepped in with, 'We've only an hour before I have to report back. Jim'll see Thea's okay, won't you, Jim?' he appealed to the policeman.

  Thea could see John's point. It wasn't their fault that she didn't have her passport with her, and he had no wish to cross the authorities or risk losing his job by being late in reporting back to his ship. It wasn't a case of letting Thea down, but plain common sense.

  Pauline gave Thea a helpless look. She was torn

  between leaving with John or staying with Thea.

  `It's all right, Pauline,' Thea reassured her hastily. 'Look, I'll give you a ring when I get back to Beach House, how's that?' she suggested.

  During all this time Paul, who had wisely kept in the background, now half-heartedly suggested that he should stay with Thea, but John's sharp, 'And how are we to get back? We're using your car, remember?' put paid to this tentative offer, and Thea was very relieved about this. She couldn't blame Paul for not wanting to get involved either. He didn't know anything about her, and she might have been on Interpol's wanted list for all he knew!

  Before they finally left, Pauline reminded Thea of her promise to ring her as soon as she got back to Beach House, and giving the policeman a final glare she allowed John to lead her away.

  When they had gone, Thea felt utterly forlorn. When she had first checked in at the airport immigration desk in Miami on her way to St Thomas, she had been surprised to find herself classed as an alien. Foreigners, of course, were aliens, but somehow she hadn't thought the term applied to the English in America. Now she felt like an alien with a capital A, and miserably wondered what she was doing there anyway, so far from her native land.

  The line on the left of the room had quickly dispersed, and it was obvious that there would be no more dancing that evening, as everyone had elected to leave as soon as they had been given the authority, and the large proportions of the room looked vast in the emptiness.

  Thea found herself receiving several side glances from the few aliens still waiting in the queue. Some were sympathetic, and some just curious, and she took a deep breath of exasperation. It was Marcus's fault that she was in this embarrassing position. He ought to have known she would need her passport at some time or another, but as with other things where he was concerned, it simply hadn't occurred to him, she thought furiously.

  When she recalled her parting jest to Mrs Welling that evening about not supposing she would need bailing out, she almost winced. She hadn't dreamt that her quip might backfire on her like this.

  Her thoughts roamed on. If there was one good thing about what had happened that evening it was that she hadn't realised that Marcus still had her passport, and she could hardly book her passage home without it. Tomorrow she would ring him and request that he send it back to her, she told herself grimly.

  It must have been only a quarter of an hour since Pauline had left, but to the waiting Thea it felt more like an hour. The queue of aliens had now dispersed, leaving Thea feeling even more isolated, and she wondered if they were having trouble locating Marcus. One swift glance at her watch told her that it was almost ten-thirty, and not really late—unless he was entertaining someone, she thought bitterly, and in that case he would be furious at being contacted on such a trivial matter as Thea John's passport.

  For a moment she thought she had imagined the smooth, 'Well, well,' behind her, that sounded remarkably like Marcus's voice, but on turning round to meet his green mocking eyes, she was convinced of his presence.

  She felt her heart leap at the sight of him, and again felt like throwing herself in his arms. She had been lost and now she had been found. It was a ridiculously childish feeling, and she was ashamed of it. She was not a child and refused to act like one, so she swallowed hard and took refuge in anger. `There was no need for you to come out,' she snapped at him. 'All you had to do was to vouch for me, and say you had my passport.'

  `There's gratitude for you,' drawled Marcus with raised brows. 'Here I am, rushing to your rescue, and all I get is three lashes of the whip!' He glanced around the now completely bare room. 'Did your escort desert you?' he asked deceptively mildly, but the tone of his voice said that he would like a few words with whoever it was.

  `I hadn't an escort,' Thea bit back swiftly, then at Marcus's expression went on to correct that last statement. 'Not a special escort, that is. I came with a party, and there was no need for them to hang around. The inspector told me he would see I got back to Beach House.'

  `Oh, I told them that wouldn't be necessary,' Marcus replied grandly. 'Are you ready?' he asked.

  Thea stared back at him. 'Can we go?' she asked, and then realising what a silly question that had been, jumped up quickly and began to head for the door with Marcus's long strides easily keeping pace with her.

  `I don't want you to go to that place again,' he said authoritatively, as he shut the car door on her and got into the car. 'Not that I think you will. I'm just telling you for the record.'

  His dictatorial attitude annoyed Thea. She would

  do exactly what she liked whether he liked it or not! `I know it didn't used to have a good name,' she said tartly, 'Mrs Welling said so, but that was a long time ago, and things change; even she said that. Besides,' she added crossly, 'Pauline and John would have looked after me. If I had had my passport with me I could have left with them.' This reminded her of what she was going to ask Marcus. 'Have you got my passport?' she asked quickly.

  Marcus's eyes left the road for a brief instant as he glanced at her, then resumed to watch the road ahead of them and gave a swift nod.

  `Oh, good,' she breathed with relief.

  `The place is all right,' he went on, completely, ignoring Thea's reference to her passport, 'it's the characters who use it. The proprietors try to keep an eye out for trouble, that's why they have a door; keeper, but occasionally a few unwanted clients slip through the net. Discos are the rage at the moment, and the lowered lighting and spotlight colour beams make an excellent cover for any amount of dubious dealings.'

  Thea could have told him that that wasn't what the police were interested in that time, since she was sure that John's guess had been nearer the mark, and that someone had overstayed their shore leave, but she said nothing. She was still annoyed over the way he had sidestepped the passport issue.

  When they reached Beach House, Marcus got out and walked to the door with Thea, and this time she wasn't going to be put off. 'May I please have my passport?' she said, holding out her hand in hopeful anticipation.

  Marcus looked down at her outstretched hand

  and put his large one over hers, his strong lean fingers gently caressing her palm and making shivers run down her spine at the small but intimate contact. She attempted to pull her hand away, but he held it fast. 'Not going anywhere, are you?' he asked silkily.

  `As a matter of fact, yes,' Thea snapped, hating him for making her feel so helpless. 'Back to the U.K. when I've earned enough for my fare!'

  His green eyes rested thoughtfully on her before he said, 'You're not broke, are you? What about Michael's money? Didn't the bank transfer it over to your account?' he demanded, again choosing to ignore her last remarks.

  Thea blinked as the realisation suddenly hit her that she hadn't given a thought to that side of things. She had been so caught up with extricating he
rself from a loveless marriage with Marcus that everything else had taken second place. She drew in a deep breath. There would be enough to pay for her fare home. She was certain of it and to think how worried she had been over seeking another job! Why, she could go tomorrow—or the next day— whenever she liked. A wave of relief washed over her until she remembered the passport. Without it she would get no further than the airport. 'I want that passport, please, Marcus,' she said firmly.

  Marcus gave a loud sigh that didn't fool Thea for one moment. 'I'm afraid I haven't got it on me,' he said in a deceptively smooth voice.

  `You said you had!' Thea accused him furiously.

  `Did I?' he replied vaguely. 'You asked me if I had your passport and I said yes. I didn't say I had it on me,' he remonstrated gently.

  Thea took a deep breath and tried counting to ten, but it didn't work. She wasn't to know if he was telling the truth or not, and there was nothing she could do about it. 'Well, send it over to me tomorrow,' was all she could say. 'If you don't, I shall be forced to go to the Consulate,' she threatened, showing him that she meant every word.

  `Fighting mad?' Marcus queried casually, and Thea moved a step away from him in alarm. It was his way of telling her that she was asking for trouble in no uncertain way.

  She eyed him warily before replying firmly, `I am.'

  He gave a deep chuckle at this and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. 'You're learning, sweetheart,' he said softly. 'As for your passport, I can do better than send it. I'll bring it to you Friday evening. I'm rather booked up until then,' and with an airy wave he walked back to his car, started up, and swept away from her bemused gaze.

  He couldn't even allow her to bow out gracefully from the scene without making her await his authority, she thought bitterly as she went into the house and straight up to her room—she was in no mood for a chat with Mrs Welling. She had barely closed her bedroom door when she remembered her promise to Pauline, and with lagging steps she returned to the hall to make the call.