She thanked him and sat back. "It's the women," she said. "They caused the trouble. And because my Jettero is so handsome and so darling, I was a jealous fool. Yes. It was the women."
"Izzy says– – " began Heller.
"No, no. Izzy is a man. He wouldn't understand these things," said the Countess. "A woman-any woman-would move Heavens and planet to get her hands on my Jettero. I understand that completely. It all makes sense."
"I think there is more to it than..."
But she was not listening. She got up and went to another room. She was gone for a while and there were some goings and comings and the murmur of voices.
She came back. She had a glass of water and two capsules. "Now, you're in pain and you have been under a strain. The captain told me that if I had any trouble sleeping, to tell him. So I have just done so. These are called Nembutal. You will be able to sleep. You are quite safe. Nobody knows you are here. So take them and get some rest."
"I don't think I need– – "
"Take them," she said and put them in his mouth. She gave him some water to wash them down.
"Now just lie back and relax," she said. "Everything is going to be all right." She reached over and gave him a gentle kiss amongst the overdone mass of bandages. She turned off the light.
My viewer went black. The audio carried the faint hum of ship machinery. And then the gentle breathing of Heller.
I set the viewer alarm for when he would awake. Obviously, it would not be for some time.
At least I knew exactly where he was. And no threat to me at the moment. Or so I thought.
I, too, went to bed.
Fool that I was, I had no clairvoyance whatever of the blazing storm of disaster which was about to be
turned loose! With me in the eye of the worst series of catastrophes Hells had ever unleashed.
Stupid with shock, champagne and marijuana, I had no inkling that my last days on Earth were about to pounce.
Looking back on that moment, I am incredulous that I could have been so unalert and calm.
Dark, devilish disaster was on its devastating way.
When I arose the next morning it was nearly noon. I could not think. The combination of marijuana and alcohol was giving me a far worse hangover than the one before. I decided it had been that awful experience with Teenie and her (bleeped) flashgun. Somebody ought to kill that kid, I decided, but my wits were so thick and thinking was so painful that I could not even dwell on that pleasant prospect.
Limping around, wishing Prahd was there to grow me a new head, I wandered into the back garden. It was a beautiful spring day for some people but not for me. The warm sun, however, seemed to relax my nerves and I stretched out, hopeful of an undisturbed hour.
Not so. A buzzer was going somewhere. I finally recognized it as coming from my room. It was the viewer. I sat down thickly to watch it.
Heller was awake. He was sitting up in bed. The curtains of the sleeping cabin were all drawn shut. He was staring at a little sign, suspended with a blue ribbon from a pipe. It said:
Please push Bell S
I was so stupid after last night, not even a sixth sense warned me of the catastrophe this was to begin.
He looked around. There was a button panel. One said S and had a small drawing of a steward beside it. He pushed it.
Instantly, like a magic genie, a gaunt-faced man dressed in a white short jacket and black pants came in. He bowed. "Madam gave me strict instructions, sir, for when you rose."
"And where is the lady?" said Heller.
"You are to go to the breakfast room when you are quite ready, sir. There is no hurry." He was holding out a small bottle. "I trust your injuries are not paining you too much, sir. If they are, you are to take one of these aspirins."
"I'm fine!" said Heller, waving the bottle aside. "I feel great."
"That's very brave of you, sir, after the extensive wounds madam described to us." He was holding a white robe. "If you can manage holding out your arms, sir, I can get this on you."
Heller took it away from him and put it on.
The steward was bowing him into the bathroom. A small seat was in the middle of the tiled floor and the steward got Heller to sit down. The steward was picking up a straight razor and can of lather. "I'll do the best I can, sir, shaving around your injured face."
Heller apparently resigned himself to it. There appeared to be extensive bandages.
"Frightful row on the beach last night, sir. In all the upset, I am afraid I did not see you come aboard."
"It was pretty dark," Heller said. And in the mirror I could see that a smile was twitching at the areas of his face the bandages left exposed.
The steward finished shaving him. "Now, if you will just get into the tub, sir, I can wash your back. You
don't have to get your hands wet. I promise to be very careful of the chest injuries."
Heller endured the bath. When finished and dried, the steward bowed him back into the bedchamber, a towel wrapped around him.
There in the splendid room stood an older man, also in a white short jacket, but with gold epaulets and Chief Steward above the pocket.
"I've laid out your clothing, sir. I am afraid they are not tailored but they were the best quality madam's maid could find in the stores. I do hope they serve."
There was quite an array of clothing and shoes laid out, all more or less seafaring except for a white silk dinner jacket.
"I took the liberty of laying out something casual," the Chief Steward said, pointing to an outfit displayed upon the chair. It was a nautical jersey, white with horizontal red stripes, white pants, a red sash, deck shoes and a yachting cap. "Now, if it does not give you too much •pain to sit down, we can help you into them. Unless, of course, you would rather go back to bed."
Heller sighed. He got into the clothes.
They escorted him with no little ceremony down a broad stairway and into a cheerful breakfast salon with murals of sailing craft blending in color with nautical designs on the tiled floor. A resplendent table was set in the middle. It had snowy white linen, silver dishes and plates and a single huge red rose in a tall white vase made a centerpiece. There was an engraved menu on the plate.
The Chief Steward, the steward and a waiter seated Heller. He looked at the other side of the table. There was neither chair nor place set.
"Wait a minute!" said Heller with some alarm. "Where is the lady?"
The Chief Steward bowed and pointed. "I had very strict instructions to make certain you received this, sir."
An envelope was propped against the white vase. On it was the single word Dear.
Heller opened it with some alarm. He read:
Dearest,
This was all my fault for not believing in you.
The only way I can earn your pardon is to clear this matter up.
If you went back, they would arrest you.
These are just women and women are best handled by a woman. It shouldn't take long.
I mil send you a radio when it is all settled.
Love, love, love! K
PS: I told them your name was H. Hider Haggarty, as that is on your CIA passport.
PPS: I took all your money so you can't bribe the crew.
"Where are we?" cried Heller, leaping up.
He rushed out to a foyer and burst out upon an open deck.
Apparently the captain had already, anticipated just this. He was standing right there. He was a grizzled man
with a very craggy face. He was dressed in whites. He saluted.
"I am Captain Bitts, sir. Good morning to you. I have specific orders from the owner's concubine to treat you extremely well but in no case to permit you to go ashore until further orders have been received from her personally."