Reiger swung the car south. “You’re always askin’ questions, ain’t you?” he said.
They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they got down to the waterfront they left the car parked and walked rapidly down to the line of small shipping. A tall Negro and Bugsey were waiting alongside a forty-foot boat. As soon as the Negro saw them coming he climbed aboard and disappeared into the engine-room. Bugsey stood ready to cast off.
Reiger said, while Miller climbed aboard, “You don’t do anythin’ until they come alongside. Then you gotta watch them as they come aboard. Not one of these Chinks must have guns. The safest way to deal with them is to make them strip as they come on board. It takes time, but it’s safe. If you think one of them’s got a rod, take it off him. If he looks like startin’ anything, give it to him. Miller will take them from you and put them in the forward cabin.”
Fenner said, “Sure,” and followed Reiger on board. Bugsey cast off and tossed the bowline to Reiger. He waved his hand to Fenner. “Nice trip,” he said.
The Negro started the engines and the boat began to shudder a little. Miller was already down in the cockpit, his hand on the wheel.
Reiger said, “All right—let her go,” and the boat began to show her heels.
Reiger went over to the small but powerful searchlight on the foredeck. He squatted down behind it and lit a cigarette. His back was intent and unfriendly, and Fenner didn’t bother to follow him. He climbed down into the cockpit with Miller and made himself comfortable.
“What time will you pick these guys up?” he asked Miller.
“Around about ten, I guess.”
As the boat headed for the open sea, it grew suddenly chilly, and a drizzling rain began to fall. There was no moon and the visibility was bad.
Fenner shivered a little and lit a cigarette. Miller said, “You get used to these trips. If you feel cold go into the engine-room. It’ll be warmer there.”
Fenner stayed with Miller a little longer, then he went off to the engine-room. He noticed Reiger still sitting behind the searchlight, immovable.
The boat bounced a good bit in the rough, and Fenner suddenly lost interest in smoking. The Negro didn’t say a word. Now and then he rolled his eyes at Fenner, but he didn’t say anything.
After some time, Miller yelled and Fenner joined him. Miller pointed. An intermittent flash of light came from a long way off. Miller had altered the course and the boat was running directly toward the light. “I guess that must be our man,” he said.
Reiger suddenly switched on his searchlight, and almost immediately he snapped it off again.
Very faintly Fenner heard the drone of an aeroplane. He smiled in the darkness. Miller heard it too. He bawled to Reiger, “There’s a plane coming.”
Reiger stood up and looked up into the blackness overhead. Then he hurriedly put out the running lights. The boat went on through the curtain of blackness.
Miller said savagely, “These goddam coast guards give me a pain.”
The aeroplane droned on, then, after a few minutes, faded away. Reiger flashed on the searchlight again, let the beam cut the darkness and then turned it off. The other light kept on flickering. It was drawing nearer and nearer.
Miller handed Fenner a torch. “Go forward,” he said; “we’re nearly there.”
Fenner took the torch and climbed out of the cockpit. He felt the boat roll as Miller cut speed.
Reiger, who was standing well forward, shouted, “Kill it,” and with a flurry the engines stopped. Reiger came over to Fenner, walking carefully as the boat rolled and heaved. “Get your rod out,” he snapped, “and watch these guys.” He was holding the sub-machine-gun. “I’ll pass them to you. Make sure they ain’t got guns, then pass them to Miller.’
They both stared into the inky blackness. Reiger flashed on a small torch suddenly. He had heard the creak of oarlocks.
A small rowboat came bobbing towards them. Fenner could see four men huddled in it and two men at the oars, then Reiger put his lamp out.
“Keep your ears back for that aeroplane,” Reiger muttered to Fenner.. Then, as the rowboat bumped gently alongside, he put his lamp on again.
A thin scraggy Chinaman came aboard. “I got four here,” he said to Reiger. “I’ll bring the others in four lots.”
“What about the special?”
“Sure, sure, I’ll bring the special last.”
Reiger said to Fenner. “Okay, let’s start.”
Fenner stepped back and waited. The Chinamen came on board one by one. Reiger counted them, letting only one come at a time, waiting for Fenner to pass them to Miller, who directed them to the forward cabin. Each Chinaman wore the same clothes, tight shirts and knee-length trousers. They stood sheeplike before Fenner, who patted them down and shoved them over to Miller.
Two more boatloads came out and it all took some time. The scraggy Chinaman, who had stood on the right-hand side of Reiger while this was going on, said, “Okay, that’s the lot. I’ll go back for the special now.”
Reiger said to Miller, “You locked those Chinks in?” His voice sounded uneasy to Fenner.
“Bolts on,” Miller assured him.
Fenner wondered what the ‘special’ was. He sensed a sudden tension between Miller and Reiger. They all waited in the darkness, their ears straining for the long-boat to return. At last they heard the faint splash of oars. Reiger snapped on his torch and, reaching out with a boat-hook, held the long-boat steady.
The scraggy Chinaman climbed on board. He reached down and the oarsman handed a small figure over to him. A quick pull, and the special was aboard.
“Don’t you worry about this,” Reiger said to Fenner.
Fenner flashed his torch on the special. He gave a soft grunt. It was a girl. He’d guessed as much. She was about thirteen or fourteen years old, Chinese, and pretty. She looked very scared and cold. She wore the same tight shirt and knee-length trousers.
With an oath, Reiger struck the torch from his hand. “Keep out of this,” he said between his teeth. “Miller, get her under cover.”
Reiger turned to the Chinaman, who gave him a package wrapped in oilskin, and then climbed into the long- boat, which disappeared into the night.
Fenner said between his teeth: “There’s a nice rap hanging to this sort of racket.”
Reiger said, “Yeah? You gettin’ milky?”
“I guess I was entitled to know you were runnin’ women. That ain’t a thing that gets passed over easily.”
“What do you think? A twist is worth ten Chinks, if you can get them. So shut up, will you?”
Fenner didn’t say anything, he let Reiger go to the cockpit. He stood there brooding. Was this the answer to the riddle? They’d picked up twelve Chinks and a woman. Was that what this sister of Marian’s was trying to hint at? Or was it just a coincidence? He didn’t know.
Miller shouted. “Take her back, Reiger, I’ve had enough of it.”
Reiger said, “Sure, tell the Nigger to start her up.”
The boat quivered as the engines sprang into life. Fenner sat down with his back to the cockpit roof and searched the darkness. His ears strained, hoping to pick up the sound of a patrol boat. He neither heard nor saw anything.
Reiger shouted suddenly. “Ross—where the hell are you? Hi, Ross!”
Fenner dropped into the cockpit. “What’s the matter?” he said. “Scared of the dark?”
“Listen, bright boy, suppose you lay oft the funny angle? I want you to go into the Chinks’ cabin and chain them together. There are the chains over there.”
Fenner looked at the heap of handcuffs linked together with rusty chains that lay in the corner. “What for?” he said.
“What you think? We gotta be careful, ain’t we? If a patrol boat gets on our tail, we shove the rats over. Chained like that they go down quick.”
