“I’ll do it, Mr. Inspector, sir,” Lenny burst out. He looked dejected and more than a little scared.
It was Merron’s turn to gape then, looking from one of us to the other in astonishment and confusion.
-4-
Lenny led me down into the bowels of the ship. Merron followed us. He constantly threatened to contact the captain—but he never did.
“We shouldn’t be down here. Captain Logan and all the others—they’ll be pissed.”
“Don’t worry about it, Merron,” I told him. “If they scare you, I’ll take care of them.”
I gave him a hard smile, but he didn’t meet my eye. He was looking around—everywhere but at me. He was breathing hard, studying the deck, the bulkheads, the containers… I’ve seen lots of scared men who were contemplating murder. I made a mental note to keep an eye on old Merron.
Lenny went deeper into the ship. We were below the waterline now, and we were still heading down one set of rattling steel steps after another.
Finally, Merron couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped and clung to the rail with both hands, like it was going to get away from him.
“Lenny, stop right here,” he said.
Lenny glanced back. “We’re almost down to the room. The inspector—”
“He’s no inspector. I looked him up. The captain has looked him up, too. He’s not even on the official lists. Who exactly are you, McGill?”
Both men halted and looked at me. Lenny had a flashlight, and he shined it into my face in an annoying fashion.
“Don’t worry if you can’t find my name. I’m new.”
“You’re a spook—or a freak from the city, more likely.”
“A freak? Why do people keep calling me a freak down here at the docks?”
Lenny looked sheepish. “They used to call me that. We have… special drug shipments. They come through here now and then, but I never took any of them. People just thought I did because—”
Lenny broke off with a squawk. A wrench had struck him. It had flown down the stairs with surprisingly good aim.
“Wow,” I said, picking up the wrench. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? You might have cracked his skull with that shot.”
Lenny was on his knees. Blood oozed between his fingers.
Merron’s voice downshifted. He sounded regretful. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Freaks are addicts, that’s all. Lenny, are you okay?”
“Fucker…” Lenny whispered, still clutching at his head.
I twirled the wrench in my hand and watched Merron closely. At last, I pretended to reconsider.
“You know, I think we should go back up. We’ll talk to the captain. He’ll know the right of it.”
Some of Merron’s tension left him. He took in a deep breath and turned around. “Right this way, McGill.”
I followed him up for twelve steps—then I clocked him one. I hit him harder than he’d hit Lenny—but I figured he’d live. Probably.
Merron sagged to the deck, and I tucked the bloody wrench into his claw-like hand. Then I turned back.
I met Lenny, who was still holding onto his aching brainpan.
“What…? Where…?”
“Merron is going up to get some help for you. In the meantime, why don’t you show me around?”
Lenny’s eyes were wide with fear and pain. He nodded his head, but he didn’t say a thing.
Turning around, he led me down another sixty steps. At the bottom, we came to a sealed door. Lenny leaned into it, and his muscles bulged as he tried to spin the wheel.
“It’s stuck,” he said.
I stepped up to help. Together, we grunted and heaved. At last, the wheel spun and the door groaned open.
“After you,” I said.
Lenny led the way into the dark hold. Down here, I saw fewer containers. Instead of countless stacked bricks of shipping goods, there were platforms hung with chains and gears.
“These are elevators. We can bring containers down from the upper levels—or send them back up.”
“What is this, then? The lowest dungeon in the ship?”
“Yes. It’s kind of a lower hold. They keep the heavy stuff down here usually—it works as ballast for whatever is on the upper decks.”
“Great. Now show me something interesting, Lenny.”
He eyed me for a time. “Are you going to kill me after? Like Merron?”
“Not if I like what I see.”
Lenny looked furtive. “You’re not going to like it—but I’ll show you anyway.”
He walked through the containers, and I followed warily. He was acting as weird as everyone else on this ship, and I wasn’t enjoying the experience.
Could the disappearances be as simple as this? Were nosy inspectors finding drug deals gone wrong in the depths of gigantic holds? I hoped it would be that easy—but I was about to become sorely disappointed.
Lenny led me to a… a device. My father would have called it a contraption. It was about the size and shape of a dentist’s x-ray machine. There were thick wires sprouting out and spiraling around. The whole thing had the look and feel of a prototype built by insane engineers.
The machine had a swinging arm with a big glossy head on the end of it. The head had handles on the sides, and Lenny grabbed one of the handles. He brought the cone-shaped projector around to aim at the container, almost touching the side of it.
I watched him as he worked. Once he had the head aligned, he pressed a button. I heard a humming sound, and a white electrical arc light began to shine.
“Holy…!” I began, but I cut off.
The machine had a screen on it. When Lenny activated the camera head thing—or whatever it was—the screen lit up as well. It showed us what was inside the crate. That took a second to understand, but when I did, I laughed in relief.
“I get it. This thing is a fluoroscope, or an x-ray—whatever.
