'Thanks,' Ken said.
'Watch your step, handsome. Tux doesn't like unexpected visitors. He's tough.'
'I'll watch out,' Ken said, and walked out into the drizzling rain.
He found a dinghy berthed under the jetty. A rod, can of bait, an oilskin and oars lay in the bottom of the boat. He swung himself down into the boat, cast off and began to row towards the distant light that she had told him was North End.
It seemed to him he rowed for a long time before he saw some way ahead of him the shadowy outlines of a cruiser, silhouetted against the dark skyline.
Ken rested on the oars and watched it, wondering if it were the Willow Point. As he sat in the gently bobbing boat he heard the sound of a distant motorboat engine. He looked quickly across the waterfront, half a mile from him.
He saw a powerful motorboat leaving the jetty. It headed towards him. He wondered in alarm if it were a police boat. He began to row away from the course set by the motorboat, then shipping his oars, he crouched down in the boat so his head and shoulders weren't outlined against the skyline.
He watched the approaching motorboat anxiously.
It was coming fast, but he saw with relief it would pass him by some three or four hundred yards unless it altered course.
The boat roared past him, and its wash sent his boat bouncing violently.
He heard the engine suddenly cut out. The motorboat vanished into the darkness of the cruiser's side.
Ken straightened up, grabbed the oars again and began to row. It took him over ten minutes to come within forty yards of the cruiser. He rested on his oars and let the boat drift while he examined the deck of the cruiser for any sign of life.
He spotted the motorboat tied up to the cruiser. He could see no one on deck, and he began to row again until he came up alongside the cruiser. He stared up at the deck rail while he listened.
He imagined he heard the faint sound of voices, and he wondered if he should take the risk of climbing on board. If anyone came up on deck his boat would be seen. He decided against the risk.
Rowing slowly and quietly, he passed under the stern of the cruiser and came up on the port side.
One of the port-holes showed a light, and as he let his boat drift silently up to the cruiser, he heard a voice coming from the port-hole say, 'It's time we had a straight talk, Johnny. You are in no position to dictate terms. You either accept my conditions or you'll stay here until you change your mind.'
Ken quietly paddled his boat up alongside the cruiser and shipped his oars, taking care to stop the boat from bumping against the cruiser's side. He caught hold of an iron bracket near the port-hole, steadied the boat while he stood up and took a quick look into the cabin.
The tall, fair, good-looking man he had seen outside the Blue Rose nightclub the previous evening was lounging on a bunk facing him. A tall, dark man in an expensively cut suit leaned against the wall, smoking a cigar.
Ken drew back quickly; then, keeping his boat steady, he listened to what was being said.
IV
Solly caught the rope O'Brien tossed to him, held the motor-boat steady while O'Brien scrambled aboard.
'Tux here?' O'Brien asked abruptly.
'Yes, boss,' Solly said, startled that O'Brien had brought the motorboat over himself.
'Where is he?'
Tux came out of the shadows, buttoning up his shirt. He had been asleep, but had wakened when he heard the motorboat and had scrambled, cursing, into his clothes.
'I want you,' O'Brien said curtly.
Tux led the way down the companion ladder, along the dimly lit passage to his cabin. He sat on his bunk, stifled a yawn and looked enquiringly at O'Brien.
'Did you fix Louie?' O'Brien asked.
'Sure,' Tux said, looking a little uneasy. 'Whitey hit him a shade too hard.'
O'Brien stared at him, his eyes intent.
'What does that mean?'
'I don't reckon Louie is feeling too good right now,' Tux said guardedly. 'He's got a dome like an egg- shell.'
'Does that mean he's dead?'
Tux lifted his shoulders.
'He could be. He spilt a lot of brain.'
O'Brien rubbed his jaw.
'This set-up is getting out of hand,' he said, took out a cigar and bit off the end. 'It might be a good thing if Louie did croak.'
Tux looked relieved.
