Десмонд Бэгли - The Spoilers

Abbot shrugged. ‘I’m thinking of the money. We’re ready for the trial and I don’t think you are authorised to sign cheques.’

‘Don’t worry about the dough,’ said Eastman with a grin. ‘Worry about the trial. It’s set for tomorrow and she’ll be there — and God help you if it doesn’t work out.’ As an afterthought he said, ‘She’s been over to the States, arranging things at that end.’

The black Mercedes called early next morning to pick up Abbot, who was wary when he found he was to be separated from Parker. ‘Where will Dan be?’

‘On the Orestes, ’ said Eastman.

‘And me?’

‘Why don’t you go along and find out?’ said Eastman. He seemed disgruntled.

So Abbot went with reluctance in the Mercedes to wherever it was going to take him — which proved to be the heart of Beirut. As the car passed the office of the Daily Star, the English-language newspaper, he fingered the envelope in his pocket and wondered how he could get in there without undue attention. He and Hellier had arranged an emergency information service, but it seemed as though he was not going to get the chance to use it.

The car took him to the yacht harbour where he was met by a trimly dressed sailor. ‘Mr Abbot?’ Abbot nodded, and the sailor said, ‘This way, sir,’ and led him to a fast-looking launch which was moored at the steps.

As the launch took off smoothly, Abbot said, ‘Where are we going?’

‘The yacht — the Stella del Mare. ’ The sailor pointed. ‘There.’

Abbot studied the yacht as they approached. She was a rich man’s toy of the type typically to be found in the Mediterranean. Of about two hundred tons, she would be fully equipped with every conceivable comfort and aid to navigation and would be quite capable of circumnavigating the world. But, also typically, that she would not do — these boats were usually to be found tied up for weeks at a time at Nice, Cannes, Beirut and all the other haunts of the jetset — the floating mansions of the wealthy. It looked more and more as though heroin smuggling was profitable.

He was met at the top of the companionway by another floating flunkey dressed in a sailor suit and escorted to the sun deck. As he climbed a ladder he heard the clank of the anchor chain and the vibration of engines. It appeared that the Stella del Mare had been waiting for him.

On the sun deck he found Jeanette Delorme. She was stretched supine, adding to her tan, and was so dressed that the maximum amount of skin got the benefit; her bikini was the most exiguous he had ever seen — a small triangle at the loins and two nipple covers. He hadn’t seen anything like it outside a Soho strip joint, and he doubted if the whole lot weighed more than an eighth of an ounce; certainly less than the dark glasses through which she regarded him.

She waved her hand lazily. ‘Hello, Mike; this is Youssif Fuad.’

Abbot reluctantly looked away from her and towards the man sitting near by. The bald head, the brown lizard skin and the reptilian eyes certainly made a change for the worse. He nodded in acknowledgment. ‘Morning, Mr Fuad.’ He had seen Fuad before. This was the Lebanese banker with whom Delorme had had lunch, and whom he had written off as being too respectable. It just went to show how wrong you could be. Fuad was certainly not taking a sea voyage on the day of the torpedo trial for his health.

Fuad gave a quick and birdlike jerk of his head. He said petulantly, ‘What is he doing here?’

‘Because I want him here,’ said Jeanette. ‘Take a seat, Mike.’

‘I thought I said I was not to be brought into...’ Fuad stopped and shook his head again. ‘I don’t like it.’

Abbot, who was in a half-crouch preparatory to sitting down, straightened again. ‘I know when I’m not wanted. If you whistle up that launch again, I’ll be going.’

‘Sit down, Mike,’ said Jeanette with a whip-crack in her voice that automatically bent Abbot’s knees. ‘Youssif is always nervous. He’s afraid of losing his respectability.’ There was mockery in her voice.

‘We had an agreement,’ said Fuad angrily.

‘So I’ve broken it,’ said Jeanette. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ She smiled. ‘Don’t be so worried, Youssif; I’ll look after you.’

There was something going on between them that Abbot did not like. Apparently he was not supposed to know about Fuad, and Fuad did not like to have his cover broken. Which made it dicey for Mike Abbot if Fuad decided to bring things back to normal. From the look of him he would not bat a lizardlike eye at murder. He looked back towards Delorme — a much more rewarding sight — and had to remind himself that she would not, either.

Jeanette smiled at him. ‘What have you been doing with yourself, Mike?’

‘You know bloody well what I’ve been doing,’ said Abbot baldly. ‘Or else Eastman’s been wasting his time.’

‘Jack has told me as much as he knows,’ she agreed. ‘Which isn’t much — he’s no technician.’ Her voice sharpened. ‘Will this torpedo work?’

‘I’m no technician, either,’ said Abbot. ‘But Dan Parker seems confident.’ He rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘I think you’ll owe us a hundred thousand dollars before the day’s out.’

‘Youssif has the cheque ready. I hope he’ll give it to you — for your sake.’

This clear warning of the penalty for an unsuccessful trial made the sweat break out on Abbot’s forehead. He thought of what Parker had said about working on the edge of the impossible, took a deep breath and forced himself to say lightly, ‘Where are we going? What’s the drill?’ He turned his head and looked towards the receding land, more to avoid Jeanette’s hidden gaze than out of interest. In a comparison of these two it was obvious that the female of the species was more deadly than the male.

She sat up suddenly, and adjusted the minimal bra which had sagged dangerously under the stress of her movement. ‘We are going to join the Orestes. She is out there — away from the shipping routes. We have some fast boats too, to make sure we are not disturbed. This is like a naval exercise.’

‘How long will we take to get out there?’

‘Maybe two hours — maybe longer.’

‘Say three hours each way,’ said Abbot. ‘And God knows how long for the trial. This is going to take all day. I’m beginning to feel seasick already. I never have liked ships.’

The tip of her tongue played along her top lip. ‘I have a certain cure for seasickness,’ she said. ‘Infallible, I assure you. I don’t think you will have time to be seasick, Mike Abbot.’

She put her hands behind her head and pushed her breasts at him, and he believed her. He glanced at Fuad who was also watching her with his lizard stare, but there was no hint of lust in those dead, ophidian eyes.

Not far over the horizon the Orestes lumbered through the calm morning sea on her way to the rendezvous. Parker climbed the ladder to the bridge and made the thumbs-up sign. ‘Everything’s under control. I’m bringin’ the batteries up to heat now.’

Eastman nodded, then jerked his head towards the officer with the mildewed braid on his battered cap. ‘The skipper’s not too happy. He says the ship’s cranky in her steering.’

‘What would he expect with a bloody big hole cut off centre in the bows?’ demanded Parker. ‘He’ll get used to it.’

‘I guess so,’ Eastman was thoughtful. ‘Would it help to cut another hole on the other side?’

‘It might,’ said Parker cautiously. ‘It would equalize things a bit.’

‘What’s this about warming up the batteries? I didn’t know you did that.’

‘A warm battery delivers power quicker an’ easier than a cold one. A difference o’ thirty degrees Fahrenheit can increase the range by a third — an’ we want all the range we can get.’ Parker took out his pipe. ‘I’ve set her to run at twelve feet. Any less than that an’ she’s likely to porpoise — jump in an’ out o’ the water. An instability like that could throw her right off course. At the end of her run she’ll bob up nice an’ easy like a cork, an’ her Holmes light will go off so you can see her.’