‘You stupid jerk.’ she said. ‘You had to open your big mouth. So what the hell are you going to do now?’
‘Divorce you for a start.’ said Gaskell.
‘I’ll alimony you for all the money you’ve got.’
‘Fat chance. You won’t get a red cent.’ Gaskell said and drank some more vodka.
‘I’ll see you dead first,’ said Sally.
Gaskell grinned. ‘Me dead? Anyone’s going to die round here, it’s you. Booby baby is out for blood.’
‘She’ll cool off.’
‘You think so? Try opening that door if you’re so sure. Go on, unlock it,’
Sally moved away from the door and sat down.
‘This time you’ve really bought yourself some trouble,’ said Gaskell. ‘You had to pick a goddam prizefighter.’
‘You go out and pacify her.’ said Sally.
‘No way. I’d as soon play blind man’s buff with a fucking rhinoceros.’ He lay on the bunk and smiled happily. ‘You know there’s something really ironical about all this. You had to go and liberate a Neanderthal. Women’s Lib for paleolithics. She Tarzan, you Jane. You’ve bought yourself a piece of zoo.’
‘Very funny,’ said Sally. ‘And what’s your role?’
‘Me Noah. Just be thankful she hasn’t got a gun.’ He pulled a pillow up under his head and went to sleep.
Sally sat on staring at his back venomously. She was frightened. Eva’s reaction had been so violent that it had destroyed her confidence in herself. Gaskell was right. There had been something primeval in Eva Wilt’s behaviour. She shuddered at the thought of that dark shape moving towards her in the cockpit. Sally got up and went into the galley and found a long sharp knife. Then she went back into the cabin and checked the lock on the door and lay down on her bunk and tried to sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come. There were noises outside. Waves lapped against the side of the boat. The wind blew. God, what a mess it all was! Sally clutched her knife and thought about Gaskell and what he had said about divorce.
Peter Braintree sat in the office of Mr Gosdyke, Solicitor, and discussed the problem. ‘He’s been in there since Monday and it’s Thursday now. Surely they’ve no right to keep him there so long without his seeing a solicitor.’
If he doesn’t ask for one and if the police want to question him and he is prepared to answer their questions and refuses to demand his legal rights I don’t really see that there is anything I can do about it,’ said Mr Gosdyke.
‘But are you sure that that is the situation?’ asked Braintree.
‘As far as I can ascertain that is indeed the situation. Mr Wilt has not asked to see me. I spoke to the Inspector in charge, you heard me and it seems quite clear that Mr Wilt appears, for some extraordinary reason, to be prepared to help the police with their enquiries just as long as they feel his presence at the Police Station is necessary. Now if a man refuses to assert his own legal rights then he has only himself to blame for his predicament.’
‘But are you absolutely certain that Henry has refused to see you? I mean the police could be lying to you.’ Mr Gosdyke shook his head. ‘I have known Inspector Flint for many years,’ he said, ‘and he is not the sort of man to deny a suspect his rights. No, I’m sorry. Mr Braintree. I would like to be of more assistance but frankly, in the circumstances, I can do nothing. Mr Wilt’s predilection for the company of police officers is quite incomprehensible to me, but it disqualifies me from interfering.’
‘You don’t think they’re giving him third degree or anything of that sort?’
