Chapter XXV
LeRoy went to the open hatchway and looked into the cabin below. Bruce Farraday and his daughter were seated at a table. The millionaire was talking in low earnest tones to Tolliver, who was stretched at ease on an upholstered bunk flanking one side of the room. The Captain caught a startled glance from Tolliver’s brown eyes as Bruce Farraday came on dark, in answer to his unhurried request. Eve made a move as if to follow her father, but sank back into her clair at a quick signal from Tolliver.
“The Commander wants you to take the wheel for a little ways,” LeRoy explained. “We’re going to take a look around the boat.”
“I thought—.” Farraday began, surprised.
“I’ll be right back,” Dawson interrupted. “It occurred to Captain LeRoy that it might be wise to make a perfunctory search of the boat. I agree with him. The attempts made to kill Mr. Rice indicate that we can’t be too careful.”
“I’ll be glad to go with him,” Farraday offered.
“You probably know your own boat better than I do.” Dawson stepped down from the platform with a smile. “But I’m sure I’ve searched more boats than you have. You can keep her south by east until I get back.”
“I can take her out if necessary.” Farraday stepped onto the platform. “You better let me have your slicker. It’s a bit nasty up here.”
Dawson slipped out of the yellow oilskin he was wearing and handed it to the owner. “Come on,” he said to the Captain, and started down the stairs to the main cabin. LeRoy put a hand on his shoulder: “Are you armed?”
Dawson half-turned and shook his head.
“Take this.” The Captain held out a flexible blackjack. “I have my gun.”
Tolliver sat up when they entered the cabin. “Is dad steering, Commander?”
“Yes. Captain LeRoy and I are taking a look over the boat.”
“I better go up. Dad’s not so hot. He’ll have us piled up on Fowey Rocks.”
“I’d rather you remained here with your sister,” said LeRoy. “We won’t be long.”
Eve looked at him searchingly. “What’s the trouble, Captain? Can Tolly and I help?”
LeRoy gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m the trouble. I just wanted to satisfy myself that everything was O.K. It’s the policeman in me cropping out. Will both of you wait here?”
She nodded. “I was going to fix some coffee in the galley. I’ll start it when you get back.”
“What’s in there?” Dawson pointed to two low doors toward the stern.
“Storage for life preservers,” Tolly informed him, “and the tiller control.” He bent over and opened one of the doors. Eve took a small flashlight from a buffet and handed it to Dawson.
The Commander made a quick inspection and straightened up. “What’s up forward?”
“Galley next,” said Tolly. “Then the engine room. Beyond that are staterooms. The crew’s quarters are in the bow.”
LeRoy, caressing his gun in a side pocket, led the way into the galley and switched on the lights. It needed but a glance to assure them both that no hiding place existed in there.
The engine room, with numerous neat lockers, took longer. Dawson worked fast, but he was painstaking in his search, poking into every nook where a small man might have hidden in any position. Once he stood silently for nearly five minutes, head to one side, listening to the noisy click and whir of the engines.
“It would be hard to hear the tick of a time bomb against those,” he said at last.
LeRoy nodded grimly. “I’d thought of that, too.”
They spent almost forty-five minutes on the staterooms. It was nearly one when they opened the door to the crew’s quarters and stepped inside.
Stan watched Captain LeRoy climb down into the cockpit before he turned to Lydia Staunton. She was standing where a ruby gleam from the port running-light touched her face, making it look for an instant weirdly tired and drawn. He took her arm, and led her forward to the softly lighted lounge, aiding her with a cigarette when she was seated. From a nearby chair he was forced to lean closer, so soft was her voice when she began to speak.
“Bruce Earraday is the only man I ever loved, Mr. Rice. I’ve decided tonight that this is my last trip on the Swamp-fire. I can’t win his son—and I can’t fight him. But I’d like Bruce to know the truth before I go. Thai’s why I want to talk to you.”
“If it’s to clear yourself of the charges made by Tolliver at Dawson’s party, Mrs. Staunton—you’ve given yourself needless worry.”
A small pulse beat swiftly in the sloping lines of her soft throat. Stan watched it a moment, then allowed his admiring eyes to follow the soft curve of her firm breast. In the shaded lights, in spite of her worried face, she appeared no older than Eve Earraday, but he knew she must be in her forties. Certainly, he decided, there was no hint of the lurid adventuress in Lydia Staunton. Even her superficial lightness of manner, which he had disliked in LeRoy’s office, was gone—driven out by a deep, real pain at losing the man she loved.
“You don’t believe I tried to make Tolly lose his money?” She was hopeful as a child.
“I believe the truth—that you tried to save him.”
“Oh, I did. I did. He’d been drinking that night, Mr. Rice. Eve was with him until he started to gamble so heavily. She came to the hotel to get me and drove me back to Commander Dawson’s apartment, but she didn’t want to go up again. She took a taxi back to the hotel.”
“Who else was there?”
“The Bessingers. That was the night Tolliver lost the nine hundred dollars to him and gave him an I.O.U. They left right after I came. The Commander and Edward Fowler didn’t want to play with Tolly—but he insisted. I
