“Mister!” Click-click. “Are you questioning my ord-—”
Overconfidence was the Captain’s undoing. Strutting and waving his arms, he’d backed into Ensign Mayday. The saboteur grabbed Maldemerde with a half-nelson around the neck and held him between himself and the rifle Mister Jewish was holding. Mayday scooped up an icepick that had fallen to the-deck during the melee and held it at the Captain’s throat.
‘Tm walking away from this,” Mayday said calmly. “Make one move to stop me and I’ll rip his throat out!”
“He’s a saboteur and a murderer!” Chief Engineer Gorilla reminded Mister Jewish. “Shoot him!”
“I’d have to shoot through the Captain.”
“Mister Jewish!” Maldemerde wailed. Click-click.
“That might solve all our problems,” Gorilla muttered.
“Mister Jewish!” Click-click.
Ensign Mayday pulled the Captain back toward the stairwell. Mister Jewish held his fire. Captor and captive vanished down the stairs.
When they were gone, Mister Jewish, Gorilla, and Dr. Quotabusta hustled the remaining mutineers off to the brig. Agreeing that we could both use a drink, Mario Brandino and I headed for the cocktail lounge. Darkness had fallen, and our way was lit by the deck-lights.
As we rounded the corner of the deck, I spied light rays bouncing off something metallic in the shadows of a doorway leading to one of the inside hallways. I reacted instinctively. I straight-armed Brandino, sending him sprawling backwards, and dived low for the shadows. A gunshot exploded over my head.
My shoulder hit the gunman at the knees and we went down together, sprawling and struggling. I saw the gun swinging downwards in an effort to crack my skull, and I ducked and grabbed for the wrist of the hand holding it. Teeth sank into my arm, but I held onto the wrist doggedly. Our bodies thrashed about, but the focus of the fight was the gun. He kept trying to clobber me with it, and I kept trying to force him to drop it.
But when he did drop the revolver, it wasn’t because of my strength. He dropped it because the muzzle of a Luger was pressing against his temple. Brandino was holding the Luger.
It was incentive enough for the assailant to throw in the towel. I scrambled to my feet and stood over him, alongside Brandino. Now I saw his face. It was West. Brandino still had the Luger pressed against his head. When he recognized West, he took a deep breath and his finger started to tighten on the trigger.
“Don’t!” I exclaimed.
“What else can I do?” Brandino inquired. “He’s been trying to kill me all day. If I let him go, he’ll just go on trying to kill me.”
“No he won’t,” I said. “Look at him. He’s had it.”
West’s face was completely drained of color. His eyes stared blankly. He was in a state of absolute shock induced by the conviction that he was only a split-second away from death. He was obviously in- capable of any protest, of any action of any sort.
“Well, if I’m not going to kill him, what are we going to do with him?” Brandino wanted to know.
“Let’s get him down to the infirmary. Dr. Quotabusta can give him a sedative. That’ll knock him out. When he comes to, he’ll realize what a close escape he’s had. I don’t think he’ll bother you again.”
“I hope you’re right.” Brandino let himself be convinced.
We did as I suggested, and Dr. Quotabusta relieved us of West. Then we went to the cocktail lounge for our drink. Now we needed it more than ever.
“You saved my life,” Brandino said as we sipped our scotches. “I won’t forget that. I owe you. And I’m a man who always pays what he owes. You remember that when you need a friend.”
“I could use a friend right now,” I sighed.
“Tell me.”
“It’s too complicated to go into the whole thing. But it’s imperative that I catch up with Ensign Mayday.”
“To rescue the Captain?” Brandino was surprised.
“That’s only part of it. It’s Mayday himself I have to find. He’s dangerous. I have to locate him and stop him before he does whatever it is he's planning to do.”
I sighed again. “The problem is that this damn ship is so immense and I haven’t the slightest idea of where to look for him.”
“You’re in luck,” Brandino said. “I just might be able to help you. I just might have some idea of where Ensign Mayday would seek temporary refuge.”
“Huh?”
“My cabin is right next to the cabin of a certain lady,” Brandino told me. “I mind my own business, but sometimes you can’t help noticing things. Mayday visited this lady on quite a few occasions—late at night.”
“What lady?”
He told me.
I looked at him disbelievingly. “Ensign Mayday was having an affair with her?”
“I don’t think so,” Brandino said thoughtfully. “She also had another visitor, and rank being what it is— the— umm—sounds of lovemaking could be heard when this second gentleman visited. Quite clearly. But when Ensign Mayday called, I heard no such sounds. I’d guess his business with her was other than amorous.”
“If it was, if she’s Mayday’s confederate, then he might be holing up in her cabin right now,” I realized. My mind was racing. “And it would explain why she sought out the involvement with—”
“-—Captain Maldemerde.” Brandino finished the sentence for me. “Shall we investigate, Mr. Victor?”
Affirmative. We gulped down our drinks and left the cocktail lounge. We went to Brandino’s stateroom, which was right next to the cabin of—
Zelda Poppins!
Brandino directed me to the wall of his cabin alongside the bed. I placed my ear against it and listened. After a few minutes I made out the sounds of two voices—-a man’s and a woman’s. They were too low for me to distinguish the words, but I thought I recognized them as belonging to Zelda Poppins and Ensign Mayday. Then I heard a third sound. Click-click!
“They’re in there all right,” I told Brandino. “All three of them.”
The aging Mafioso rummaged through his suitcase and produced a gun. It was a twin to the Luger he was carrying. “The best thing would be to kick in the door and go in shooting,” he advised. “Believe me. I’ve had experience in similar situations.”
“If we do that, we’re liable to hit the Captain. Even if we don’t, they may kill him,” I pointed out.
“So?” Mario Brandino shrugged.
“I need him alive.”
“All right.” His tone said he didn’t like it, but he accepted it. “What do we do then?”
I thought a minute. “We wait,” I decided. “Sooner or later they’ll have to have food. I don’t think they’ll risk Zelda’s going out for it if they don’t have to. They’ll have a steward bring it to the cabin. When he does, we’ll go in right behind him, and try to take them by surprise without shooting anybody.”
“The scheme violates my professional standards,” Brandino complained. “But if that’s the way you want it.”
It was a long wait. More than two hours passed before we spotted a waiter heading for Zelda Poppins’s cabin with a tray. When he’d identified himself and the door was opened to his knock, Brandino and I muscled in right behind him, just as I’d planned.
But that was just about the only part of my plan which worked!
For one thing, I'd forgotten about the waiter, who somehow got between us and Ensign Mayday as we entered, making it impossible to cover the saboteurs. For another thing, I'd reckoned without the extreme panic which grabbed hold of Captain Maldemerde. When he saw a prospect of being rescued, he blew his cool completely and dived for the doorway, managing to trip me up as he scrambled through it and bolted up the deck. And thirdly, I'd thought we were only going up against two adversaries; I’d never guessed at the presence of the third conspirator who was behind the door, and who bopped Brandino over the head with the butt of a gun as we entered.