‘I don’t see that’s any of your…’ John stops and coughs.
‘Give me the watch!’ Methúsalem tries again, giving the deckhand an icy look. Jón Karl just smiles back at him and eats his fish.
‘Is that a freemason’s ring?’ asks Jón Karl without looking at the heavy, loose-fitting ring on the chief mate’s ring finger. ‘Are you a freemason?’
‘None of your business!’ says Methúsalem.
‘You’re no freemason. That ring doesn’t even fit you,’ says Jón Karl, continuing to eat. ‘You’ve just found it somewhere and are pretending to be a freemason so people will think you’re more important than you actually are. You’d have had the ring tightened if you weren’t afraid of being discovered. The goldsmith might be a freemason, see? Or the ring might be on record as having been stolen. Highly unlikely, of course, but a guilty man’s imagination can overpower his reason.’
‘You’re crazy,’ mutters Methúsalem, attempting a sneer, but his mouth just goes crooked and his eyes blink rapidly.
‘You do know this is the officers’ mess, don’t you?’ says Guðmundur, completely calm.
‘I couldn’t care less,’ says Jón Karl, shrugging. ‘But I can’t say I’m enjoying the company, so maybe I’ll try eating with the plebs next time. They just all looked so gloomy, the guys next door.’
‘On board a ship the men can’t choose where to sit,’ says Big John, clenching his right paw round his glass of water. ‘You aren’t welcome here, so you should move to the starboard side.’
‘Tell me, captain,’ says Jón Karl, taking a big bite of fish and visibly savouring it while he continues speaking. ‘Is it true you’re armed with a shotgun?’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ says Guðmundur. ‘But it would be truer to say there’s a weapon on board, though it is in my keeping. It’s one of the conditions set by international insurers—’
‘And is that the only gun on board?’ Jón Karl glances quickly at Methúsalem and John, who go pale and stiff in their seats.
‘Yes. Why do you ask?’ Guðmundur says, pushing his plate away.
‘Just asking. I thought I saw some guys carrying guns last night, but it could easily just have been a dream, you know?’
‘Carrying arms is forbidden on a ship,’ says Guðmundur with a frown. ‘If you know of any weapons other than the gun I am in charge of, I order you to make that knowledge public.’
‘As I said,’ says Jón Karl, sipping his water, ‘it was just a dream or something, I think.’
‘Young man,’ says Guðmundur, leaning forward onto his elbows, ‘I don’t know what Jónas was thinking when he recommended you as a deckhand on this ship, but I do know that if you don’t stop this insubordination and disorderly behaviour then I will make certain that—’
‘Ask him about the sabotage!’ Methúsalem breaks in, giving the table a smack. ‘Ask him where he was when—’
‘Methúsalem!’ barks Guðmundur, black eyed with fury. He points at the chief mate with a trembling finger and is about to speak again when the deckhand interrupts him by striking his empty glass three times and standing up.
Kling, kling, kling!
Jón Karl wins complete silence and the undivided attention of the three men.
‘We’d better get a few things straight here, gentlemen,’ he says, leaning his fingertips against the table edge. ‘This Jónas is not my brother-in-law. I have never seen him before. I am neither a deckhand nor a saboteur. I’m a criminal, just so you know. I hurt people for pay, I deal in drugs and I stab anyone in the back who is stupid enough to turn it towards me. My name is Jón Karl Esrason, also known as Satan.’
12.29
Satan leaves the officers’ mess and ambles up to D-deck with a full mug of hot coffee in one hand and a smoking cigarette in the other, a hidden revolver by his right ankle and a hidden hunting knife by his left.
XXI
The engine room.
They stand together in a tight little group up on the shuddering metal floor above and behind the ship’s main engine: Big John, Rúnar, Sæli and Methúsalem, shouting to be heard in the unholy din and hot, oil-filled air. Ási has still not arrived for this secret emergency meeting of the ‘gang of five’, the first one since they met in the bar the night before they sailed.
Rúnar: ‘What are you saying? He’s not Jónas’s brother-in-law?’
John: ‘No!’
Rúnar: ‘Who is he, then?’
Methúsalem: ‘He said he’s known as Satan.’
Rúnar: ‘Did you say “Satan”?’
John: ‘He said “Satan”!’
Sæli: ‘Satan! Are you sure? Satan?’
Methúsalem: ‘Yes!’
Sæli: ‘I can’t believe it! He’s followed me here. What does he want from me, anyway?’
John: ‘What do you mean?’
Methúsalem: ‘Do you know this guy?’
Sæli: ‘Yes! No! I don’t know! Surely not. I’m just talking rubbish. I don’t know…’
Methúsalem: ‘He’s a spy from the shipping company, that’s all I know.’
Rúnar: ‘ARE YOU SURE?’
Methúsalem: ‘Of course I’m sure. The man walks around as if he owned the ship and needn’t work. As if he has nothing to fear! Because he doesn’t have anything to fear. They sent him on board, those fucking despots!’
Rúnar: ‘To do what?’
Methúsalem: ‘To cut our communications. To ruin things for us. To back up the captain if needed. To bear witness against us if it comes to a fight.’
Sæli: ‘Shit, man!’
Rúnar: ‘What are we going to do?’
Methúsalem: ‘I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do!’
They close in even tighter to hear what Methúsalem has to say. Behind the main engine Stoker is rambling around with ear protectors on his head, a dirty rag in one hand and a grease gun in the other. He’s greasing the dynamo but at the same time wondering what the four of them are discussing on the floor above him.
Methúsalem: ‘John and I are going to relieve Stoker and Jónas and send them for their dinner. Stoker goes back on watch but Ási keeps Jónas chatting in the officers’ mess. Where is Ási?’
Rúnar: ‘He’s on his way.’
Methúsalem: ‘Rúnar, you fetch John’s shotgun up on deck and take it down to your cabin on D-deck. then you fetch my rifle up on E-deck and take it to your cabin as well.’
Rúnar: ‘Methúsalem, are you sure we—’
Methúsalem: ‘We don’t have a choice any more.’
Sæli: ‘What guns are you talking about?’
Rúnar: ‘I’ll tell you later. Let Methúsalem finish!’
Methúsalem: ‘Sæli, you’ll be up on D-deck keeping an eye on Satan’s cabin. We don’t want to lose sight of him.’
Stoker sticks his nose in and takes off his ear protectors.
Stoker: ‘Who’s Satan?’
John: ‘Go to hell, you nuisance! Can’t you see we’re talking here?’
Stoker: ‘I’ll just go to dinner, then.’
John: ‘Yeah, just go!’
Methúsalem: ‘When Stoker comes back down, you come up to me on the bridge, John. Then we’ll go down to D-deck together and Sæli can go up to the bridge and be on duty till I come back.’
Rúnar: ‘And then what?’
Methúsalem: ‘The three of us’ll be armed and we’ll arrest that guy Satan and lock him in the forecastle.’
Rúnar: ‘Christ!’
Sæli: ‘What about the captain?’
Methúsalem: ‘He said he was going to take a nap.’
Sæli: ‘I mean, what do you think he’ll—’