Night Of Error

I ignored him. 'Everyone all right?'

There was a low murmur and then Taffy looked up from one of the prone figures, white-faced under his tan. 'They've killed Danny,' he said in a level tone.

Over a rising growl I yelled, 'Cut it out – look at Hadley!'

There was a dead silence. Hadley had forced Clare to her knees; he had her right arm up behind her back and in his other hand he held a heavy pistol trained on the nape of her neck. Ramirez stood in front of me, nodding appreciatively.

'You have sense, Mr Trevelyan. You've lost and you know it.'

Tell him to let her go.'

'In a moment.' He passed along the deck and came to Geordie, who stared at him impassively. 'Ah, the brave Mr Wilkins. I told you that you would regret what you did, one day.' He lifted his hand and struck Geordie across the face with a back-handed blow. A ring cut deep and blood started to drip from Geordie's mouth. He spat on the deck in silence.

Campbell moaned and tried to lift himself from the deck, and Ramirez strolled over to look down at him with an odd expression on his face. It was almost as if he contemplated the defeat of an old adversary with less than satisfaction. 'Come on, old one. Get up,' he said brusquely.

Campbell got halfway up, then collapsed again.

Ramirez made an impatient noise. He pointed to Taffy, still crouched over Danny's body. 'You – carry the old man into the saloon.'

Taffy and Ian between them got Campbell up. There seemed to be something wrong with his side, as if his leg was paralysed. As he lifted his head I saw an ugly blotch of blood on his left temple, and rage rose bitter in my throat at the sight.

Ramirez gestured to Geordie with his pistol. 'You too -into the saloon. And Mr Trevelyan, you too, please. We mustn't forget you.'

A rifle muzzle poked me in the back and I walked helplessly towards the companionway. I turned my head and saw Hadley dragging Clare to her feet and pushing her forward. I wondered where Paula was.

Before we were thrust into the saloon we were brusquely searched. The man wasn't too gentle and I gasped with pain as the heel of his hand slammed against the wound in my side. He just grinned, but it was a mindless rather than a sadistic expression, I thought in that moment that there seemed to be a minimum of brain-power around – these men were mostly obedient puppets, no more than that. It might be useful, I thought, and wondered at myself.

In the saloon I helped Taffy to lay Campbell on a settee and said in a low voice, 'You're sure Danny was killed?'

'I'm sure,' Taffy said tightly. 'He was stabbed in the chest. God, the blood!'

I looked at Campbell. His eyes were open but unfocussed. I said, forcing my voice to a normal conversational pitch, The old boy's had a nasty knock. You'll find some water in the liquor cabinet, Ian.'

I looked around for Clare and found her coming to my side. Hadley had let her go and she was very pale but fully composed. Our hands found each others for an instance and then she was looking at the blood on her fingertips. 'Mike, you're hurt!'

That can wait. It's nothing. You'd better see to your father first.'

She went to him and began to sponge his head with a cloth dipped in the jug of water Ian held for her, her face clouded with fear and worry.

Paula was thrust into the saloon. She stumbled and nearly fell as her guard gave her a brutal shove before he took up a position near the door, his rifle pointing at us. I took her arm to steady her. 'Paula – are you all right?'

'I guess so,' she gasped. 'I've still got a whole skin.' She looked round and then said to me in a lower voice, 'I saw them putting two of our men in the cable hold, Mike – and they've hauled in the motor launch too.'

'Christ!' said Geordie. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked without surprise at the blood. He did a quick calculation on his fingers and then said, 'The two on board must have been Shorty and Davie Blake – the rest of us are here or -'

Paula took him up. 'Nick Dugan end young Martin were in the launch. I saw them both. I don't know about the other.'

They were the only two who had been in the launch, and it wasn't surprising that Ramirez had spotted them and fetched them back. But there were still Jim and Rex Larkin in the dinghy, and Bill Hunter. I had a faint surge of hope – had Ramirez missed them? And if so, could they stay hidden in that misty, turbulent sea? Geordie and I exchanged a glance and then looked quickly away.

I crossed over to Taffy, who was helping Clare, and made to assist him. 'Looks as though this is an officer's party, Taffy. You'd better stay pretty quiet unless you want to join the rest of the boys – they're in the cable hold.'

He nodded. 'I'll be all right,' he said, and rubbed the back of his neck in a curious gesture as if he had been hurt there.

One of the men with rifles said in Spanish, 'No speaking! Be silent, all of you.' I pretended not to understand and started to speak, but this time the gesture that went with the repeated instruction was clear, and I subsided. I had time to assess the situation now.

Neither Ramirez nor Hadley had actually entered the saloon with us – there were only the two armed guards. We were seven, and in the cable hold there were possibly four men. Danny lay dead on the deck – I could barely make myself think about that – and three were, with any luck, still at large.

I decided to try a gamble.

'It will be all right to let us speak,' I said in the best Spanish I could muster. 'Mr Ramirez will permit it.'

They glanced at one another, and one of them shrugged. I had guessed correctly – they were so accustomed to being given orders that they would accept this one even from me, spoken as it had been with an air of authority. I turned to Geordie and told him what I had said in Spanish, with a wary eye to the rifles, but to my relief the guards gave no further sign of stopping us.

Geordie said, 'What happens now?'

'That's not up to us. Ramirez has the next move, and I don't like to think what that will be. We can't do much while they're around.' I jerked my head very slightly in the direction of the guards.

'Seven here, four below,' Geordie murmured. He had done the same arithmetic that I had. 'And three – somewhere.'

I looked at Campbell who seemed to be recovering. 'They're a murderous lot of bastards, aren't they?'

'I wish I'd given Jim his head when he wanted to blow a hole in Sirena,' said Geordie viciously.

'Wishful thinking won't help us now. What bothers me most is that I think that's what they may be going to do to us.'

He shook his head irritably and we all lapsed into silence. Clare came over to me, unbuttoned my shirt, and proceeded to patch up what luckily proved to be no more than a skin graze, though it hurt me more than the slight wound warranted. I thanked God that we kept small first aid kits all over the ship. As she worked I felt her hands shaking just a little, and I grasped them to try and reassure her, but it was a wretched attempt.

There was a lot of movement on deck and a great deal of shouting. Ian looked up at the deckhead speculatively. 'I'm thinking they're having trouble, skipper. There's a hell of a tangle at the masthead.'

That was all to the good. The longer they took to separate the two ships the more time we would have to think of a way out of this mess. I looked at the guards and felt very depressed. They looked as though they'd murder their grandmothers for two pesetas, and they'd certainly have no qualms about shooting us if we tried anything.

It was nearly an hour before anything happened. We used the time to some little advantage; all of us achieved better control over ourselves and Clare brought her father to a degree of coherence. He had a pretty bad concussion – his speech was affected, although his thinking seemed clear enough.