Edgar Ragged - King Dong

Ann gasped at the weight of the object. Then, tongue protruding, she ran her hands over the heavy, golden artefact. With great deliberation, she stroked the long, sturdy shaft. Her eyelids half-closed as she caressed the bulbous shape at the end …

Three men fainted dead away.

Anne purred. ‘Hey, this is really something.’

Indiana gazed at her with unbridled lust. ‘Do you know what it is?’

‘No.’ Ann’s hands slid over the smooth metal. ‘But I could have a damn good guess.’

‘It’s a ceremonial staff of office derived from a stick with a heavy bulge at the end, used as a war club.’

‘Well, I was wrong.’ Losing interest immediately, Ann dropped the golden dingus back in Indiana’s lap. As he doubled up in agony, she said, ‘What time does Sloppy open the cook-house on this banana boat? I’m starving,’ and flounced off.

Ray looked at the moaning adventurer with a finely poised mix of revenge, sympathy and opportunism. ‘Shall I rub it better?’

Hastily, Indiana shook his head.

Ray gave a petulant shrug. ‘Suit yourself.’

Deadman’s patience was wearing thin. ‘Now see here, Dr Bones, we’ve all heard of your heroic exploits –’

‘Oh, really?’ said a familiar voice. ‘Let’s just get this straight, shall we? This guy claims to be a serious scientist, yet he steals objects of great value from helpless, impoverished indigenous peoples without any regard for their significance or any attempt to record or interpret what he’s found, and sells these priceless artefacts for vast sums on the international antiquities market. Now how does that make him a hero, exactly?’

Thwack!

‘Well, thank you for that cogent and closely reasoned riposte.’ Able Seaman Obote folded up like a deckchair.

‘Like I was saying, Dr Bones,’ Deadman continued, as if the interruption had never taken place, ‘I’m damned if I know what to do with you.’

‘Give … me a … ride … to my next … port,’ gasped Indiana, rubbing at the affected area. ‘I’ve heard of a fantastic treasure in the Himalayas. There’s a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu and its remaining green peeper has got my name on it. If you could just see your way clear to take me to Calcutta …’

‘Goddamn it, man!’ exploded Deadman. ‘I’ve got a movie to shoot. This isn’t an archaeology expedition, and we don’t have time for sightseeing trips.’ He considered. ‘However, there’s a strong chance we may have to deal with an ancient and mysterious culture, in which case your expertise may be valuable. What’s more, since the second assistant chef ran amok in the galley with a meat-axe the other night and we had to throw him over the side, we’re a man short in the kitchen and there’s a mountain of potatoes to peel between here and our mysterious destination.’

‘Now hold it right there!’ Indiana was on his feet, his eyes blazing defiance. ‘I have a Master’s degree from Oxford and a PhD from Harvard, I’m a member of the Royal Society, the National Academy of Science and the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks, and I’m damned if I’m going to waste my time doing KP for a bunch of lowlife chancers.’

‘Or we could leave you for the Zulus.’

Indiana rolled up his sleeves and pulled out his sheath-knife. ‘Would you like me to do the carrots as well?’

‘Hi there, baby.’

Ann gave Indiana a sidelong glance. If she was pleased to see him, she hid it well. ‘Are you by any chance talking to me, buster?’

‘Well – er – yeah.’

‘Then I would be grateful if you would have the coytesy to address me as “Miss Darling”, as befits my position of being a lady of class and distinction, ya dumb-ass.’

Indiana backtracked hurriedly. ‘Oh, sure, Ann … Miss Darling. Anything you say.’

There was a long pause while Indiana tried to catch Ann’s eye and Ann resolutely ignored him. At length, shuffling his feet, Indiana said, ‘You doing anything special tonight?’

‘Well, I thought I’d take in a movie, and then go down to the Plaza Hotel for supper, and finish up dancing the night away at Radio City Music Hall – what the hell d’ya think I’m gonna do?’ snapped Ann. ‘I’m gonna eat a pailful of slop and go back to my lousy cabin to read a crummy magazine I’ve read three times already, like I do every night, that’s what.’

‘Well, I thought …’ Indiana examined the backs of his hands with inordinate interest. ‘I thought, maybe, you’d like to stay out here on deck with me and look at the stars.’

Ann gave Indiana the sort of look she usually reserved for weevils she’d found in a ship’s biscuit. ‘I like my plan better.’

‘Well, hello.’ A waft of eau-de-Cologne, strong enough to stop a charging rhino in its tracks, announced the arrival of Ray. The effete couturier stood, hands on hips, and eyed Indiana and Ann satirically. ‘Beauty and the beast, eh?’

Ann smirked. ‘Beauty, eh? Why, thank you, Ray.’

‘What makes you think,’ drawled Ray contemptuously, ‘that “Beauty” referred to you?’

‘Blow it out your ears, fancy-pants.’ Turning her nose up, Ann high-heeled away across the deck. Indiana watched, entranced, as a member of the ship’s company accosted her in an over-familiar manner, and she kneed him in the meat and veg with a force that sent the luckless matelot’s glass eye shooting over the starboard rail to splash into the limpid waters of the Indian ocean below.

‘Wow,’ breathed Indiana. ‘That is some woman.’

Ray pouted. ‘I don’t know what you see in her. Hard-faced baggage. A real train-track woman – she’s been laid from coast to coast.’ He slipped a more-than-companionable arm across Indiana’s shoulders. ‘Take it from me, sweetie. Women are poison.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Pooh! Are you still wearing that smelly old leather jacket? Why not let me run you up a new outfit? I could knock up something in your cotton. Or maybe your denim. I could really let myself go in your denims.’

Indiana began to edge away. ‘Er … no thanks …’

‘Or maybe something softer. How about nylon?’ Ray sidled after Indiana, trapping him in a corner of the rail. ‘I’m unbelievable in nylons.’

‘I bet you are.’

‘Or maybe rayon? You haven’t lived until you’ve had rayon.’

‘Uuuuurgh,’ croaked Indiana.

‘Or maybe you’d rather stick to leather.’ Ray ran his fingers up and down Indiana’s disreputable lapels. ‘I like sticking to leather, myself.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

‘Suede?’

‘No, I’m not in the least swayed, honestly.’

‘Saucy! Well, I’ll think of something. Come down to my cabin and we’ll take a gander at your inside leg.’

Indiana glanced downwards at the ocean, briefly wondering whether certain death in its shark-infested waters was a better option than the fate the besotted costumier had in mind for him.

‘Hey! Dr Bones!’

Indiana felt himself go weak with relief. Deadman had emerged onto the wing of the bridge two decks above, and was beckoning to him. ‘Sorry,’ he gabbled, pushing none-too-gently past Ray, ‘Mr Deadman wants me. Glad we had this little chat – mustn’t keep the boss man waiting.’

‘Oh, go on then.’ Ray gave a disgruntled wriggle. ‘The laddie doth protest too much, methinks. I’ll turn you round sooner or later, you’ll see.’

‘Not while I have my strength,’ Indiana muttered under his breath as he took the companionway steps two at a time.

Deadman greeted him at the door to the bridge. ‘Well, Dr Bones – Fey Ray seems to have taken quite a shine to you.’

‘“Fey” is right.’ Indiana pawed frantically at the movie man’s sleeve. ‘You gotta call him off, Deadman.’