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Authors: Robert Mitchell

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BOOK: THURSDAY'S ORCHID
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“Well?” I asked. “Was the radar working when you got up her
e?”

“No.”

He started to sweat again. He was worried about something; something that he didn’t want me to know.”

“But I just heard the three of you talking about it. I heard you say it’s working now. I distinctly heard the electrician say there’s nothing wrong with it. So what gives?” It didn’t make sense. If a thing was out of order, then it normally stayed that way until it was fixed.

“When the third officer called me in my cabin, he told me it wasn’t working. As soon as the engines were moving at full astern, and I was certain the crew had moved to their boat stations, I checked it myself. It wasn’t giving a read-out.”

“When did it start working again?” I asked.

I was getting nowhere fast.

“She wasn’t budging,” he continued. “So I rang for the engines to be shut down. Then I went below to check out the engine room and the lower deck
s with the chief engineer. When I got back to the wheelhouse the radar and the autopilot were both functioning again.”

“What’s this about the autopilot?” I asked. I still hadn’t found out why we had gone so far off our course to be able to strike the reef.

“The autopilot steers the ship without the need to have somebody on the helm. It’s driven by an electric motor and directed by the master compass. As far as we can figure out, some fault in the electrical system blacked out both the radar and the autopilot.”

“So in other words, Captain,” I said. “Somebody must have tampered with both units.”

His complexion, which had subsided to its normal ruddy glow, went crimson once more.

“Don’t be bloody ridiculous!” he snapped. “Why don’t you bugge
r off and let us get on with our job!”

I had struck a nerve. There was only one explanation as far as I could see. Someone had entered the wheelhouse and shut off both the radar and the autopilot without the third officer knowing anything about it. He had probably pulled out the fuses, or some such thing; and the only way he could have done that without the third officer knowing, would have been if that bastard had been asleep. It was either that or he was involved.

For some reason somebody didn’t want the cargo to reach Singapore; but what good would it do them sitting out on a reef in the middle of the ocean? It didn’t make any sense – unless we had competition. Perhaps they wanted to destroy the cargo so they could supply Tek with their own grass.

I ambled down the steps from the bridge. The captain had told me to leave him alone, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a chat with certain other people: the third officer, for instance.

I knocked on the cabin door. There was no answer, so I knocked again, putting my ear to the panel and hearing a low moan coming from the other side. The knob turned easily in my hand as I opened the door and walked in.

He was lying on his bunk, still fully clothed, staring up at the ceiling, his shoes lying on the floor where he had kicked them off. I pulled a chair across and sat down facing him, not saying a word. He didn’
t look too pleased with himself; but then who would in his position? It isn’t every day that a young third officer manages to put a ten thousand ton ship, and forty people, up on to a reef.

“How do you feel?”
I asked. It seemed the best way to start the conversation; making him feel as though I was interested in his welfare. He glanced over at me.

“Very tired. I am so tired.”

His eyes were red and bloodshot, the pupils mere pinpricks.

“Is that why you fell asleep on watch last night?” I asked quietly. It was a shot in the dark; but I didn’t think it was too far off the mark. He jerked up, nearly hitting his head on the top bunk.

“Who said I fell asleep? I was on watch. There is no way I would fall asleep on watch. The whole ship is depending on me.”

He was scared; his face now ghostly white. I leaned closer.

“I happen to know that you did fall asleep last night,
Third
,” I whispered. “Don’t ask me how I know. I do, and there’s no use denying it.” I could see the blood drain even further from his face, if that were possible. “But if it’s any comfort to you, the captain doesn’t know.”

His eyes pleaded
as I continued.

“And he won’t hear it from me …
.., provided you tell me exactly what happened.”

He looked at me in terror. If the truth got out it would
be the finish of his career at sea. The shame would probably kill him; if the rest of the crew didn’t get to him first.

He swallowed and wiped the back of his hand across dry lips. “Do you give your oath that you will not reveal
what I tell you?” he asked, beads of perspiration sliding down his forehead. He looked sick, and I thought I knew what had caused it.

“If you’re telling me the truth, then your secret is safe. Go ahead.”

If he thought it was going to end right there, he was very much mistaken. If I had to lay the bastard before the captain to get the rest of the story, I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute. I had too much to lose. I didn’t want the crazy maniac behind this mad scheme opening up the sea-cocks, or whatever it takes to sink a ship.

He lay down on the bunk and went back to staring up at the ceiling. I sat and waited.

“I went on watch at two o’clock,” he finally said. “The second officer went through the course settings before he handed over to me. I checked our heading on the radar and there was no deviation. Then I went into the chart room to see what distance we had travelled since I had been on watch early yesterday morning. After that, there was nothing else to do, so I sat in the master’s chair.”

He was more relaxed now, relieved to get it off his chest. I nodded and listened as he went on with the story.

“At about half-past two, the steward brought my coffee.” It was what I had been waiting for. “I took it into the chart room and sat down at the chart table. There was a magazine lying on the table, so I started to read it. The next thing I knew, I woke up to find that I had fallen asleep across the table. I felt terrible.” I bet he did. There had probably been enough of something in the cup to knock him out for the rest of the night. “My head was heavy and I had trouble shaking off the drowsiness. It was like waking up after falling asleep in the hot sun.” He paused, remembering the feeling of stupidity. I had to keep him going. I couldn’t let him dwell on it or his drugged brain might put two and two together.

“What did you do then?”

“I was groggy, and scared in case I was found like that. I saw from the clock that I had been asleep for over an hour. I stumbled into the wheelhouse and checked the course, but the radar wasn’t working. I called the captain. He told me to check it again and to check the main switch. I checked. The switch was on, but still the radar wasn’t working. Then I saw that the autopilot wasn’t working either, so I called the captain again. He swore at me and said that he would be there in five minutes. I waited, but he didn’t come. I was very frightened. We grounded about ten minutes later; and then the captain came running in, yelling at me.”

So that’s what had been bothering Flint, why he had been so anxious to placate me. If he had come when he had been called that first time, we might have been saved.

“I am so ashamed of myself. What do you think they will do to me?”

I felt sorry for him. None of this was his fault.
He had been picked simply because his bridge watch fitted in with the proximity of the reef. But he didn’t realise that, of course, and I had to see that he stayed ignorant – at least until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

I wanted it to continue to look like an accident. If they thought for a moment that it was anything else they would look for the person behind the sabotage, and he might lead them to the grass. Could I bribe the whole ship if they discovered what the cargo really was?

I was certain that Flint didn’t believe it was an accident, but he wasn’t saying. He needed it to be an accident. It would look bad for him otherwise. He had taken too long to get to the bridge. Malfunction of machinery was one thing; but sabotage and dereliction of duty were something else.

“Well, Third,” I said, putting a comforting hand on his arm. “I think it would be best if you didn’t tell a soul about your dropping off to sleep; not even your wife. She might mention it to one of the other wives. It would be all round the ship in no time.”

He thought for a minute and then said: “Yes, you are right. She is very friendly with the other women.”

The cargo would remain my secret as long as he stayed silent, and I was going to make certain that he did just that.

“If they believe you were awake the whole time,” I said quietly and clearly. “They’ll think the malfunction happened only minutes before you discovered it. They’ll believe you did everything you should have done. They won’t know that it might have happened an hour or so before you woke up. But if you tell them what really happened, you’ll never go to sea again. You’ll be lucky if you don’t go to jail. What would your pretty wife do then?”

He started to cry, tears rolling down his cheeks, and I thought for a moment that he was going to pass out as the whiteness spread over his face once more. I hoped that he would, for as far as I was concerned the best thing would be for him to sleep it off and let the drug seep out of his system. Six or seven hours sleep and the effects of the drug would have worn off, and I doubted whether anybody would believe his story then. With no proof of being drugged, he would keep quiet or go to the wall.

There was a voice from the doorway behind me. “Why are you here?” I turned to find his wife, protective, fiery, anger mixed with fear, the beauty of youth gone in an instant as she flicked her long dark hair over one shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” I replied easily. “I only came down to see if there was anything I could do for your husband. I don’t think he should be left on his own.”

“I am here now! I will look after him!”

She sat on the bunk and held his hand. It was the first s
how of affection I had seen any of the women give to their men.

“Yes,
” I agreed. “But if you would forgive one further intrusion; one suggestion. He could do with a hot drink, a shower, and plenty of sleep. He’s had quite a shock.”

Maybe she might believe that was what had caused his present groggy condition.

“You are right,” she said, opening the cabin door. “Thank you. Please go now.”

She would do exactly as I had suggested. She would probably do even a little more, for I had no doubt that she would have her own ways of cheering him up; and if that didn’t put him into a sound sleep, nothing would.

I was fairly certain that the story of the drugged coffee would never come to light. How could he prove it in any case? Where was the cup? At the bottom of the sea; where else? Whoever had put the drug into the coffee would have removed the cup at the same time as he returned the fuses to the electrical circuit – when the captain had been checking out the engine-room and the bridge had been left deserted.

Dawn had broken by the time I returned to the main deck and saw that we weren’t in the middle of the ocean.

We were up on the fringing reef of a lagoon. Inside the lagoon, and some three or four kilometres distant, was a large island; but not the tropical island of fiction: palm trees and white beaches; but instead, a steep mountainous mass of land rising sharply out from the sea, covered in greenness down to the shore, mist hovering about its several peaks.

It meant that our lives were no longer in danger. We could make a landfall and wait for help. Tek would have my head for letting this happen, even though I had no control over the course of events.

If the ship didn’t break up we could possibly save the grass by floating the bales ashore. The marijuana was in airtight bags and wouldn’t spoil; but it would be a risky business, both from the mechanics of such an operation and the threat of discovery by the authorities.

Some of the crew were pointing towards the island. I walked across to the rail to see what they were talking about and saw a dozen or more canoes making their way over to the ship – native outriggers. I moved up to the point of the bow and looked down at the sea lapping on the coral in the shallow water, twenty-five metres below.

I stepped hastily back from the rail. There were a number of the crew milling about, any one of whom could have been the crazy bastard who enjoyed wrecking ships and bashing people over the head. I didn’t think he would try anything in broad daylight, but I wasn’t going to give him an opportunity too good to miss.

The reef stretched out on both sides of us, its edge passing under our midships, then curving out and around the island. Half a kilometre or so to our left there was calm water, a break in the reef. We would be able to reach the island in the lifeboats without having to haul them across the coral.

The outriggers came slowly on. We stood watching as they reached the inside of the reef and moored their craft with simple anchors of large rocks thrown into the thigh-deep water. The dark near-naked figures waded across the coral to within a hundred metres of the ship, but would come no further. We yelled and beckoned, but they had come as far as they intended.

BOOK: THURSDAY'S ORCHID
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