In High Places

'I beg your pardon,' Alan said. 'I didn't know you were at lunch.'

'Please, I do not mind, Mr Maitland.' Captain Jaabeck gestured Alan to a green leather armchair and resumed his own seat at the table. 'If you have not yourself had lunch…'

'I did, thank you.' Alan had declined Tom Lewis' suggestion of midday spaghetti, settling instead for a hastily consumed sandwich and milk en route to the ship.

'It is perhaps as well.' The captain gestured to the central dish. 'A young man such as you might find a vegetarian meal unsatisfying.'

Surprised, Alan said, 'You're a vegetarian. Captain?'

'For many years. Some think it a…' He stopped. 'What is the English word?'

'A fad,' Alan said, then wished he had spoken less quickly.

Captain Jaabeck smiled. 'That is what is sometimes said. But untruly. You do not mind, if I continue…' 'Oh yes, please do.'

The captain munched several forkfuls of the mixture steadily. Then, pausing, 'The vegetarian belief, I expect you know, Mr Maitland, is older than Christianity.'

'No,' Alan said, 'I didn't.'

The captain nodded. 'By many centuries. The true follower holds that life is sacred. Therefore all living creatures should have the right to enjoy it without fear.'

'Do you believe that yourself?'

'Yes, Mr Maitland, I do.' The captain helped himself once more. He appeared to consider. 'The entire matter, you see, is very simple. Mankind will never live in peace until we overcome the savagery existing within us all. It is this savagery which causes us to kill other creatures, which we eat, and the same savage instinct propels us into quarrels, wars, and perhaps, in the end, our own destruction.'

'It is an interesting theory,' Alan said. He found himself being constantly surprised by this Norwegian shipmaster. He began to see why Henri Duval had received more kindness aboard the Vastervik than anywhere else.

'As you say, a theory.' The captain selected a date from several on a side plate. 'But, alas, it holds a flaw like all theories.'

Alan asked curiously, 'What kind of a flaw?' 'It is a fact, scientists now inform us, that plant life, too, has a form of understanding and feeling.' Captain Jaabeck chewed on the date, then wiped his fingers and mouth fastidiously with a linen napkin. 'A machine exists, I am told, Mr Maitland, so sensitive it can hear the death screams of a peach when plucked and skinned. Thus, in the end, perhaps, the vegetarian achieves nothing, being as cruel to the defenceless cabbage as the meat eater to the cow and pig.' The captain smiled, and Alan wondered if his leg were being gently pulled.

More briskly the captain said, 'Now, Mr Maitland, what can we do?'

'There are one or two more points I'd like to talk over,' Alan told him. 'But I wonder if my client could be present.'

'Certainly.' Captain Jaabeck crossed the cabin to a wall telephone, depressed a button, and spoke briskly. Returning, he said dryly, 'I am told that your client is helping to scour our bilges. But he will come.'

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock and Henri Duval entered. He was in grease-stained coveralls and a strong odour of fuel oil clung to him. There were black grease marks on his face, extending into his hair which was matted and disordered. He stood diffidently, youthful, both hands clasped around a knitted woollen cap.

'Good day, Henri,' Alan said.

The young stowaway smiled uncertainly. He glanced self-consciously at his filthy clothing.

'Do not be nervous,' the captain instructed him, 'nor ashamed of the signs of honest work.' He added, for Alan's benefit, 'Sometimes, I fear, advantage is taken of Henri's good nature by giving him tasks which others do not choose. But he does them willingly and well.'

At the words, the subject of them grinned broadly. 'First I clean ship,' he announced. 'Then Henri Duval. Both most dirty.'

Alan laughed.

The captain smiled sombrely. 'What is said of my ship is,' alas, true. There is so little money spent, so small a crew. But as for our young friend, I would not wish his lifetime to be used in cleaning it. Perhaps you have some news, Mr Maitland.'

'Not news exactly,' Alan replied. 'Except that the Immigration Department has refused to grant an official hearing of Henri's case.'

'Ach!' Captain Jaabeck raised his hands impatiently. 'Then, once more, there is nothing can be done.' Henri Duval's eyes, which had brightened, dimmed.

'I wouldn't say that entirely,' Alan said. 'In fact there's one point I want to discuss with you. Captain, and it's why I wished my client to be present.'

'Yes?'

Alan was aware of the eyes of the other two intently upon him. He considered carefully the words he must use next. There was a question to be put and a specific answer he hoped to get. The right answer from Captain Jaabeck would open the way to what Tom Lewis had called Plan Two. But the words and response must be the captain's own.

'When I was here previously,' Alan said carefully, 'I asked if, as master of this ship, you would take Henri Duval to Immigration headquarters and demand a hearing into his application to land. Your answer at that time was no, and the reasons given' – Alan consulted a note he had made – 'were that you were too busy and you thought it would do no good.'

'It is true,' the captain said. 'I remember talking of that.'

As each spoke, Duval's eyes turned inquiringly from one to the other.

'I'm going to ask you again. Captain,' Alan said quietly, 'if you will take my client Henri Duval from this ship to the Immigration Department and there demand a formal hearing.'

Alan held his breath. What he wanted was the same answer once more. If the captain again said no, even casually and for whatever reason, then technically it would mean Duval was being kept a prisoner aboard ship… a ship in Canadian waters, subject to Canadian law. And just conceivably – based on Alan's own affidavit to that effect – a judge might grant a writ of habeas corpus… a direction to bring the prisoner to court. It was a hairsbreadth point of law… the long shot he and Tom had talked of. But its launching depended on obtaining the right answer now, so that the affidavit could be truly sworn.

The captain appeared puzzled. 'But surely you have just told me that Immigration has said no.'

Alan made no response. Instead he eyed the captain steadily. He was tempted to explain, to ask for the words he wanted. But to do so would be a breach of legal ethics. True, it was a fine distinction, but it was there and Alan was acutely aware of it. He could only hope that the others' astute mind…

'Well…' Captain Jaabeck hesitated. 'Perhaps you are right, and everything should be attempted once. Perhaps, after all, I must find time…'

It was going wrong. This was not what he wanted. The captain's reasonableness was effectively sealing off the only legal opening… a door, slightly ajar, was closing. Alan tightened his lips, revealing disappointment in his face.

'It is not what you wished? And yet you asked.' Again puzzlement in the captain's voice.

Alan faced him squarely. He said, with deliberate formality, 'Captain Jaabeck, my request remains. But I must advise you that if you disregard it I reserve the right, in my client's interest, to continue with whatever legal steps may be necessary.'

A slow smile spread over the captain's face. 'Yes,' he said. 'Now I understand. You must do things by certain means because that is the law's way.'

'And my request. Captain?'

Captain Jaabeck shook his head. He said solemnly, 'I regret I cannot comply. There is much business for the ship to be done in port, and I have no time to waste on worthless stowaways.'

Until now Henri Duval's brow had been furrowed in concentration, although obviously he had understood very little of what was being said. But with the captain's last remark his expression became suddenly surprised and hurt. It was almost, Alan thought, as if a child, abruptly and inexplicably, had been disowned by a parent. Once more he was tempted to explain but decided he had already gone far enough. Holding out his hand, he told Henri Duval, 'I'm doing everything I can. I'll come to see you again soon.'