lolled, but McRafferty didn’t think the neck was broken. Cursing, McRafferty opened up the door at the head of the saloon ladder and bawled for his daughter. “Float’s injured,” he shouted. “You’ll not come up for him yourself, girl, but I have no hands to spare. Send Mr Jesson up. It’s time the man had something to do—tell him it’s an order, and he’s to waste no time.”

FLOAT WAS not badly hurt; he was soon conscious again, left with a nasty headache, and the Captain’s daughter soothing it with cold water and a sponge. She smiled at him; he gave her a grin and a wink. He’d never been so close to her before. Someone saw the wink: Jesson. Float became aware of him standing by the table.

“That’s enough,” Jesson said. There was a smell of whisky, but Jesson, drunk or sober, was evidently the watchdog. Of course, the Old Man wouldn’t risk his daughter alone with a murderer…Float said, “Didn’t do nothing, mister.”

“Keep it that way, then. You’re scum. The lady’s not to be insulted.”

The voice held authority, truculent authority, bullying, Float kept silent; then, as he began to feel better, he realized he had a kind of opportunity, one that had been handed to him on a plate, one that might never occur again. It was better to use it rather than have to force the issue later on when it might not be so easy. He thought for a while longer with his eyes shut; then he opened them, stared at the girl, and said, “Diamonds.”

He could almost feel the tension coming from Jesson. The passenger moved towards him, face suddenly white behind the beard. “What was that you said?” he asked roughly.

“Diamonds, mister.”

“Why, you—”

“Eyes,” Float said dreamily, staring at Jesson. “Miss McRafferty’s eyes, like diamonds, shining in the light. Isn’t that right, mister? Diamonds, worth a mint o’ money. A real mint.”

“Shut your mouth,” Jesson snapped. There were red patches on his cheekbones now, just above the beard’s growth. For a moment he stood in silence; the ship creaked and groaned around them, the decks canted sharply, the howl of the wind audible beyond the closed hatch and skylight. Jesson’s mind had got there fast: Float, having just been warned not to get familiar with the Captain’s daughter, would be unlikely to pay such compliments about eyes in Jesson’s presence. Jesson had never had any reason to doubt his sergeant’s ability to instil fear or to see to it that no order was disobeyed. Staring down at Float on the settee, he turned abruptly to the girl. He said, “Leave us, Miss McRafferty.”

“He’s still in need of attention,” she said.

“He’s a murderer. He’s wandering in the head—he may be dangerous, and I stand in for your father. Leave us.”

“Very well,” she said quietly and went out of the saloon door. Jesson padded across after her and stood for a moment listening. When he heard her cabin door shut, he came back to Float. He said in a low voice, “So it was you after all. You pried into my baggage. I thought as much, you dirty little scum.”

“Hard words break no bones, mister.”

“I wouldn’t bank on not getting more than bloody words, Float.” Jesson breathed heavily, his hands clenching and unclenching. “So it was you that killed Goss. You’ll swing for that the moment I report to the Captain.”

“You’ll report to no one,” Float said insolently, “and me, I’m going to swing anyway, so it makes no difference, does it? But it’s the swinging I mean to avoid, mister, see?”

“You—”

“I opened one o’ your cases,” Float said. “Diamonds…talk about a bloody fortune, talk about fleshpots o’ the East an’ all that! Too much for one man, mister. Me, I got nothing.”

Jesson took another pace towards him, his face contorted, Float held up a hand and rose to a sitting position. “Watch it, mister,” he said. “One touch and I’ll yell for the girl and the Old Man. I’ll tell ’em what you’ve got in your cabin, in them lovely cases. And then McRafferty, ’e’ll tell the peelers in Sydney, McRafferty won’t go much on it. McRafferty’s straight, so I ’eard back in the Pool. I’m not, that’s why they warned me.” Float gave a cackle of laughter. “Don’t you try nothing, mister, I bin done for GBH I ’ave and I’ll bloody mince you up.”

He produced his knife and held the blade towards Jesson, his eyes narrowed, as watchful as a rat.

“What do you want?’ Jesson asked furiously. “How much?”

Float said, “That’s not the main point. Maybe enough to help me on my way after—”

“You’re not going anywhere, Float. Just to the gallows in Sydney, no further.”

Float grinned. “That’s just the bloody point,” he said. “I’m not going to Sydney. I reckon you’re not either—too many peelers an’ that, too many questions. And I’m coming with you, see? Up to you to fix it with the Old Man. If you don’t, then I opens me mouth like I said. Best see sense if you want all them diamonds to stay with you. And not go inside for hard labour the rest o’ your life. Or swing yourself, maybe, but only you know about that.”

Jesson stood fuming, irresolute. Float grinned again and said, “We’re mates now, you an’ me. Good mates. Both got something to lose. Stick together and we lose nothing, all right?”

He kept the knife steady.

There was murder clear in Jesson’s face as Float got up and backed away towards the door of the saloon. Float saw it; he’d expected it and knew the risks. He said, “Just don’t try anything. Just don’t.” Jesson, he reckoned, wouldn’t try anything while the ship was at sea because for one thing he wouldn’t get the chance: Float was watched all the time he was working on deck and when in the sail locker he was safe. Once they got ashore it would be different, but Float believed he could put his money on himself

Вы читаете Halfhyde Outward Bound
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