Blame The Dead

'Two per cent of turnover on the year. We pay out over ninety per cent in the best years; it's been over a hundred. That's insurance.'

'But the Prometheus Sahara must've been worth a lot more than any ofthat?'

Willie said, 'About ten million, I'd imagine. These liquid-gas jobs come expensive. All that stainless steel and whatnot, you know?'

'But if it's your side's fault, aren't you responsible?'

Mockby looked contemptuous. 'You really think we write policies like that at Lloyd's? Just because we're all gentlemen, it doesn't mean our heads are full of horse-shit. Since there're no salvage costs, the most we can pay on this one is the cost of the Skadi-about a quarter of a million – plus the same again to the other side. Half a million, like I said.'

'Who pays the rest, then? The ADP – if they're to blame?'

'Limitation,' he barked. 'You don't know bugger-all about marine insurance, do you? The owner applies to the courts to limit the liability; the figures get a bit fancy, but it comes out that you can't owe the other side more than the value of your own ship – about what the Lloyd's policy covers anyway.'

Willie said mildly, 'It was originally to protect the small shipowner – make sure he couldn't be ruined by a single accident. They didn't want to create a monopoly situation such as you've got with the airlines these days, you know? And after all, you don't usually get a dinghy sinking the QE2.'

'Just bad luck when it does happen, eh? Incidentally, how could a small boat like the Skadi sink a big tanker? '

'She had a strengthened bow – almost an ice-breaker. They'd been using her on the Saint Lawrence Seaway trade.'

I nodded. 'But there's still nine-and-something million to be found. Who pays that?'

Mockby said, 'The Sahara Line's insurers. Lloyd's again, but not the same syndicates. Not us, anyway.'

I thought about this 'limitation', and the more I thought the more I liked it. Maybe they could extend it to make sure smalltime security adviser/bodyguards didn't go out of business.

Then I asked, 'And ADP willget limitation – even if the collision was their fault?'

'If it was the fault of the ship or crew – if they were sailing balls-out in the fog – yes, the owner gets limitation. But if it was the owner's fault, likeordering them to sail balls-out in fog – then no limitation.'

'Just a bill for ten million,' I said dreamily.

Willie said, 'And some of that could be paid by a Mutual Club. Sort of protection society among shipowners, you know? But anyway, none of that arises in this case. Nobody's trying to prove that Ellie Smith-Bang gave orders about going full ahead in fog. She wouldn't, anyway.'

I said carefully, 'Just whatdoes arise in this case – if the Lloyd's policy is invalidated? Like you said.'

Willie looked at Mockby and Mockby looked at his Scotch. Then his voice was a bit hesitant. 'Well, yes… that was just what Martin said, though.'

'Before he went to Arras, of course. And you knew he was being blackmailed about that log?'

Another brief pause. 'He told me that, too.'

'And you let him go?'

'Christ! – how could I stop him? It was his cock on the block. And I didn't knowyou were going to let him get killed!'

So then Willie had to help. 'Maggie told Mr Card about… about her and Martin having an affair.'

Mockby stared at him, his face melting from surprise into vague disbelief. 'Christ. Gabby little bit, ain't she?' Then he turned to me and became the prison-camp commandant again. 'And how many people haveyou told?'

I just sipped my drink and for a while nobody said anything. Then I asked politely, 'And your interest has nothing to do with being in the Sahara Line as well."

'No, of course not!' But I wasn't sure if I believed his eyes.

'I had to ask. It could represent a conflict of interests.'

'Get them every day in the City, if you're on enough boards.' Then he swung on Willie and exploded, 'Isthat why you brought him along? Little bloody ray of sunshine, ain't you?'

Willie looked genuinely embarrassed. 'Well, old chap… I mean, Mr Card rather insisted, you know? '

I could have done with something stronger than that. Mockby turned sourly back to me. 'Oh, he's a bloody marvellous insister, he is. Pity he's such a lousy bodyguard. Well?'

I said calmly, 'Did Fenwick mention the log proving engine trouble in the Skadi?'

'Er – he said something. I thought you couldn't read it? '

'Happened to run into a Mrs Smith-Bang the other day. In Bergen.'

'That crooked old bag?'

I smiled and shrugged. 'You know her, obviously.'

"Everybody knows her.' He guffawed heartily, then remembered my character weaknesses again. 'You're not giving her that log. What were you doing in Bergen?'

Willie blushed but Mockby didn't notice.

'Went to see a surveyor called Steen. But he got himself shot before we could talk.'

Now his expression was plain bewilderment, but with a growing unease behind the eyes. 'So, then?'

I finished my drink and put the glass down. 'So I don't know any more. Thanks for the drink.'

'Hey, wait a minute! You didn't give that log to her, did you?'

'No.'

'That's something, then. So -hand it over.'

Til think about it.'

Til pay you a thousand.'

Til think about it.'

'Fifteen hundred and that's it. In cash. No tax.'

'I'll think about it.'

Willie said uncomfortably. 'Oh, do we really need this, Paul?'

'We need that bloody log!' Back to me. 'Two thousand.'

'I'll think-'

'Stop saying that!'

'Can I help it if I'm a great thinker?'

'Idon't believe you've got the bloody thing at all!' he shouted.

I knew how to react: a negligent shrug of believe-what-you-like-old-mate. But Willie looked as if he'd been caught bringing a female into his club.

And Mockby saw it. He swung round.'Has he got it?'

Willie made a sort of neighing noise.

'Great God on a gondola,' Mockby whispered hoarsely. 'You never had it.' His voice lifted to roaring-forties levels. 'Charles! Charles!'

The door crashed open and the big chauffeur stood there, looking surprised.

'Throw this cheap swindling sod out. I meanthrow him.'

The ruddy face creased into a happy grin. 'Right away, Mr Mockby.' He moved forward.

I took the Mauser out of the holster inside the waistband on my hip and just held it, pointing at the floor.

I knew what Mockby would say and he did: 'You won't use that thing.'

I reached out and fired, and after the bang there was a lovely long clattering clanking tinkling noise from inside the cocktail cabinet. One side of the mirror lining was totally gone, and a couple of glasses gone with it.

'Not too serious,' I soothed him. 'At least I didn't hit a bottle. And you can always tell your wife you were practising for the polo season. Come on, Willie.'

He looked only faintly surprised; the other two were petrified. He finished his drink, smiled politely at Mockby, and walked around him to the door. I followed; Charles stepped out of our way.

'I'll get you for-' he began.

'Don't trouble yourself. We'll find our own way out.'

The Bishop's Avenue was wide and bright and still, every light in every house blazing and nothing moving at all. Nobody running to see what the small sound of a -22 exploding had meant, even if they'd heard. You could stand and scream in the middle of the street there and if you did it long enough, somebody would ring the cops to come and take you away and abate the nuisance. But they wouldn't want to know why you screamed. Innocence is something you can buy for yourself, just as you can buy deafness for others.

As he swung out of the driveway, Willie said, 'I've always wantedsomething frightful to happen to that cabinet, but did you have to drag me away as well? '

'The less you say to Mockby right now, the better. And I needed a lift.'

His profile looked pained for a moment. 'Yes, I'm frightfully sorry about that. But does it really matter if Paul knows you haven't got the log?'