deck. It seemed almost superfluous to hit him.
But if Otto was no longer a problem, the men in the well-deck were something else. As he ran, presumably in full view of them, he made a slashing Cut! gesture with both arms and then pushed toward them with his palms, but not a damned one of them had even seen him. And suppose he couldn’t even get Otto to whirl and swing that gun off her? Take him by the shoulders and turn him, like a manikin in Macy’s window? It was less than ten feet now, and he was driving.
‘Otto!’ he snapped, and whacked the rail with the wrench at the same time. That did it.
The big sailor came unglued at last, and started to wheel, and at the same time Karen jumped back out of sight around the corner. He swung down with the wrench, getting the wrist into it at the end, and it made a sound he was afraid Lind might hear on the bridge. Otto simply collapsed, two hundred pounds of bone and cabled muscle folding up and settling to the deck like a deflating pneumatic toy. There was a good chance he’d killed him, and while it might bother him later, at the moment he didn’t seem to care.
Strangely, the gun didn’t fire at all. With his left hand he grabbed it from the other’s lifeless grasp before it had a chance to drop. He turned. The men in the well-deck were catching up now, and when they saw him with the gun, two or three started to break for the ladders. He made a savage gesture of the arm: Back! But they didn’t get it fast enough. There was a shout from the bridge, followed by the crash of a gun. He dropped the wrench, pointed the gun out toward the sea, and pulled the trigger. It was on single fire, so he shot twice more.
He made the gesture again, and this time they all got it. Nobody had fallen at the shot from the bridge, but now he saw Barset, at his third shot, clap a hand dramatically to his chest, grimace with agony, sway, and fall forward on his face. Trust a con man to pick it up, but, God, what a ham.
The men were shifting back now, watching him with the same fear and hatred they had Otto, so it should be safe as far as the bridge was concerned. He gave it to them in pantomime: pointing to his watch, holding up five fingers, then to himself, pointing aft, up, and then swinging the gun forward with a raking motion. There was no way they could signal they understood, but they should have it. He dropped beside Otto and fanned him for spare clips. He had two.
He waved to the crew, and ran around the corner. Karen was waiting for him. She had the jacket on again and looked blandly innocent.
‘Now I know what they mean by overkill,’ he said, as they hurried aft.
‘Well, you were taking a terrible chance. And when I guaranteed he’d freeze, I meant it.’
‘Yeah, but didn’t you consider I might choke up too?’
‘Oh, come. The worldly Mr. Goddard?’
They stopped near the after corner of the deckhouse while he told her what he was going to do. Then he thought of something else.
‘I’ve got to get Spivak out of the engine room,’ he said. ‘They can’t start the fire pump or close the sea intakes even after they get here. And we need that gun.’
‘But if they hear any shooting down here, they’ll all come down.’
‘I think I know how we can do it.’ He told her while he made a quick inspection of the gun. He knew nothing at all about automatic weapons, and it was of European manufacture. Precious seconds flew by while he found out how to change clips, and then, with the gun empty, experimented with the settings to discover which way it was on safety. Then the remaining one had to be continuous fire. He shoved in a full clip, and handed Karen the other two. ‘Hold these for me. I’ll be right back.’
He ran in through the smoke in the passage, and up the inside companionway to the wireless room. Sparks had closed the transmitters, and was seated at his desk with his head in his hands. When Goddard spoke from the doorway, he turned. He looked at the gun with no expression of any kind, and said nothing.
‘The crew’ll be back here in a few minutes,’ Goddard said. ‘If they get control of the ship again, it’s not going to be any love feast, and they won’t believe you wanted out of the mess unless I tell ‘em.’
Sparks nodded. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve got to get Spivak out of the engine room.’ He indicated the telephone. ‘Can you call him from here?’
‘No. The only master control is on the bridge.’
‘Well, there’s another way. Come down to the grating on the crew’s deck and call out to him. Tell him Lind’s launching the boat and is going to leave him. I’ll take it from there. A deal?’
‘Let’s go,’ Sparks said. They ran down the companionway. When they reached the crew’s deck, flames were now shooting up in the smoke boiling from the hatchway. The shelter deck was afire.
‘Make it fast,’ Goddard said. He pulled open the steel door to the engine room casing and stood out of sight to one side. Sparks stepped in on the grating. ‘Spivak!’ he called out. ‘You’d better get up here. They’re launching the boat.’
From where he was, Goddard couldn’t see in. He waited. The fire continued to mount around the ladder from the shelter deck, and paint was bursting into flame above it here in the passage. Smoke was choking him. Sparks stepped back into view.
‘He’s coming,’ he whispered. ‘On the last ladder. Gun’s in his dungarees.’
Goddard nodded, and gestured for him to move back. Spivak lunged into view through the doorway. Goddard shoved the muzzle of the gun into his side. ‘Hold it, Spivak!’ The oiler gasped, and stiffened. Goddard pulled the Luger from his waistband, and tossed it to Sparks. ‘Hang onto that for a minute.’
Spivak shot a look of hatred at the operator. Goddard prodded him again with the muzzle of the gun and jerked his head down the passage. ‘Get going!’ Spivak hesitated for a second, but turned and marched ahead of him. They reached the open door of the hospital. ‘Inside,’ Goddard ordered.
Spivak turned. His eyes were terrified as he gestured toward the flames and smoke boiling up at the end of the passage. ‘But—but—she’s afire.’
‘I’m glad you called that to my attention,’ Goddard said. He put a hand in Spivak’s face and shoved. The oiler shot in against the bunks. ‘Wish us luck.’
He pulled the door shut and dropped the padlock through the hasp, but didn’t snap it. Running back down the passage, he gestured to Sparks. They leaped out on deck and around to the port side away from the searing waves of heat from number three hatch. Karen was waiting. Goddard took the Luger from Sparks and gave it to her.
‘When they come up the ladder, give this to Mr. Svedberg,’ he said swiftly. ‘Tell him I’ll need help up there, as fast as I can get it. Maybe they can get up through the chartroom. Spivak’s in the hospital, and if they can’t control the fire, let him out, but I don’t think he’ll be any better off when they get their hands on him. And tell them Sparks had nothing to do with leaving them here.’
She nodded, her eyes apprehensive. She knew what he meant: it was in case he didn’t make it down from there himself.
‘I promised,’ he said. ‘And they might get to the radio room before I have a chance to tell ‘em. Let’s go, Sparks.’
He grabbed the two spare clips, and they plunged back inside and ran up to the officers’ deck. Smoke was boiling up the companionway now, and pouring into the passages above. ‘Lock yourself in till they’ve all got the word,’ he told Sparks. The Latin nodded, and went toward the radio room. Goddard wheeled and hurried down the passage toward the exit at the after end of the deck, feeling the butterflies again.
14
He peered out. There was nobody in sight. Over the noise of the fire he could hear a metallic banging from the boat deck above him. It had been more than five minutes now, and he had to hurry before the men below decided something had happened to him and made a break for it. He set the gun on continuous fire, but was hampered by the spare clips; he had no way to carry them except in a hand. He stepped out, cautiously watching the openings at the tops of the two ladders, slipped over to the port one, and started up. His head came level with the deck above. He peered over.
Directly ahead of him near the forward end of the deck, the bos’n and Karl were wrecking the port lifeboats.
