Десмонд Бэгли - The Spoilers

‘You’ll be there to find the torpedo.’

‘I thought you wanted me here to check the firing.’

‘You can do both,’ said Eastman. ‘There’ll be a boat waiting to take you to the other end of the course.’

Parker struck a match. ‘You’ll need a hell of a fast boat to outrun a torpedo.’

‘We’ve got one. Is forty-five knots fast enough?’

‘That’s fast enough,’ admitted Parker, and blew out a wreath of blue smoke.

Eastman sniffed distastefully and moved up wind. ‘What’s that you’re smoking? Old socks?’

Parker grinned cheerfully. ‘Feelin’ queasy already?’ He drew on the pipe again. ‘Where did Mike go this mornin’?’

Eastman stared at the horizon. ‘The boss wanted to see him,’ he said morosely.

‘What for?’ asked Parker in surprise.

‘I’ll give you three guesses,’ said Eastman sarcastically. ‘The little bitch has hot pants.’

Parker clucked deprecatingly. ‘That’s no way to talk of your employer,’ he observed. ‘You think... er... that she an’ Mike are... er...?’

‘I’ll bet they’re both in the sack now,’ said Eastman savagely, and thumped the rail.

‘Why, Jack! I do believe you’re jealous.’ Parker chuckled delightedly.

‘The hell with that,’ said Eastman in a hard voice. ‘I’m immune to anything that chick does with her flaunty little ass — but she shouldn’t mix pleasure with business. It could get us all into trouble. She shouldn’t have...’

He broke off, and Parker said innocently, ‘She shouldn’t have what?’

‘Nothing,’ said Eastman brusquely, and walked away across the bridge where he talked in a low voice to the skipper.

Abbot buttoned his shirt and leaned across the tousled bed to look through the port. The things I do in the line of duty, he thought, and checked his watch. They had been at sea for just over two hours. From the compartment next to the cabin he heard the brisk splash of water as Jeanette showered, and presently she appeared, naked and dripping. She tossed him a towel. ‘Dry me,’ she commanded.

As he rubbed her down vigorously he was irresistibly reminded of his boyhood when he had haunted his grandfather’s stables and had been taught the horseman’s lore by old Benson, the chief groom. Automatically he hissed through his teeth as Benson had done when currying a horse, and wondered what the old man would have thought of this filly.

‘You haven’t been around much,’ he said. ‘I expected to see more of you.’

‘You couldn’t see much more of me.’

‘What were you doing in the States?’

She stiffened slightly under his hands. ‘How do you know I was in the States?’

‘Eastman told me.’

‘Jack talks too much.’ After a while, she said, ‘I was doing what you would expect — setting things up.’

‘A successful trip?’

‘Very.’ She twisted free from him. ‘I’m going to make a lot of money.’

Abbot grinned. ‘I know. I’ve been trying to figure out how to carve myself a bigger share.’ He studied her as she walked across the cabin. Her long-flanked body was evenly tanned and there were no betraying white patches. Evidently the minimal bikini she had worn there morning had been a concession to someone’s modesty — but whose he could not imagine. Fuad’s? That was a laugh.

She turned and smiled. ‘It is a possibility — if the trial is a success.’ As she stepped into a pair of brief panties, she said, ‘What do you think of Jack Eastman?’

‘He strikes me as being a tough boy,’ said Abbot consideringly. ‘He’s no cream-puff.’

‘Could you get on with him?’

‘I might — if he could get along with me.’

She nodded. ‘Something might be arranged.’ She fastened the bra strap. ‘Even if you didn’t get along together something might be arranged — if you are prepared to help with the arrangements.’

Christ, what a hellcat! he thought. It was quite clear what was being tentatively offered. He could supplant Eastman by getting rid of him, and he had no illusions about what that implied. Probably by enlisting his aid in rubbing out her partner she would make even more money. But then he would be in Eastman’s seat — the hot seat — a target for the next gun-happy sucker to enter her sexy little life. He thought of the list of murdered men in her dossier and wondered how many of them had been her lovers. The female spider — the eater of males.

He smiled engagingly. ‘It’s a thought. Where does friend Fuad fit into all this?’

‘Now you are talking too much,’ she said reprovingly as she buttoned her blouse. ‘He has nothing to do with you.’

‘Oh yes he does. He holds the moneybags, doesn’t he?’

She sat at the dressing-table and began to make up her face. ‘You jump to a quick conclusion,’ she said. ‘But you are right.’ Her eyes watched him through the mirror. ‘You are very clever, Mike; much cleverer than Jack. I don’t think you’d have any trouble with him at all.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

‘Since you are so clever, perhaps you can tell me something. What do you know about Regent Films?’

Abbot was aware that she was watching him even though her back was turned, and hoped his expression had not changed. ‘It’s an English — British — film company. Quite a big one.’

‘Who is at the top?’

‘A man called Hellier — Sir Robert Hellier.’

She turned to him. ‘So tell me — why should an English nobleman — a milord — interfere with me?’

Abbot chuckled — he could not help it. ‘I suppose you could call old Hellier a nobleman. Is he interfering with you?’

‘His company is — very much so. It has cost me a lot of money.’

Abbot kept a straight face even though he wanted to cheer. So Warren and the Iranian team had stabbed her right in the wallet she substituted for a heart. He shrugged. ‘I don’t know much about Hellier. He wasn’t on my beat — I didn’t do films or the gossip stuff. For my money it’s a respectable outfit he runs. Regent makes pretty good pictures — I’ve seen some of them.’

She threw down a comb with a clatter. ‘These Regent people have cost me more money than you’ve even heard of. They’re...’ The telephone rang and interrupted her. She picked it up. ‘Yes? All right.’

Abbot looked through the port and saw the Orestes not very far away. Jeanette said, ‘Come on, Mike; we’re wanted on deck. We’re transferring to the other ship.’

When they arrived on deck Abbot saw a group of seamen busily engaged in lowering a boat. The Stella del Mare had stopped and was rolling uneasily in the slight swell, and the Orestes was abeam of them about two hundred yards away.

Fuad was not on deck, but Abbot caught sight of him lurking in the saloon. It seemed that Youssif Fuad was intent on concealing his association with these nefarious activities, which was why he had objected when Abbot had come on board. Jeanette, on the other hand, seemed to want Fuad more deeply involved, and Abbot wondered if he could use the issue as a point of attack.

He followed Jeanette down the companionway and stepped into the launch, and it pulled away in a lazy circle and headed for the Orestes. When Jeanette climbed up on to the deck of the battered coaster she was suddenly businesslike. ‘All right, Jack; let’s get on our way. Are you ready, Parker?’

Parker grinned easily. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

She offered him a small, tight smile. ‘You’d better make it good — but Jack’s been telling me you do good work.’ The telegraph clanged, the deck vibrated as the engines increased speed, and the Orestes began to move. ‘What’s the drill?’ asked Abbot.