The Atlas Murders (33 page)

 He opened Fokir’s letter; he
relayed how Oswyn actually stayed in Bombay the night before the ship sailed
and he was with the man who killed Nilima. The detectives found a piece of
clothing in the girl’s fist that she tore from her killer. He relayed the whole
story and the arrest of two workers at the Lord Welland Plantation. One was a
senior overseer and both men were in the same hotel in Bombay as Oswyn on the
night of the murder. It was only a matter of time when a charge will be made
and it will be known in due course if Oswyn was a willing accomplice. Fokir
thought it likely that the Lord would be charged under Indian law of complicity
in this case.

The third letter from Vera
was full of concern for his safety; she warned him that the powers that be
would stop at nothing to have him discredited and thrown off the case. She
wrote that he should be very careful ashore as there could be an attempt on his
life. He wondered if the Lord could have anyone in Havana who would do his
bidding. There was a strong British business community there which would also
conceal a darker gangster element, probably aligned to the Mafia. He re-read
the letters before consigning them to the lavatory and the deep blue ocean.

The captain sat stony faced
at his desk. The letter from the chief detective superintendent handling the
case in Australia had stunned him. He had expected a breakthrough, but when it
came and now the culprit had been named, it was shocking. He sat trying to
comprehend the situation; he felt his stomach tense up and an aura of
helplessness surround him. He knew he couldn’t confide this to any of his
officers in case the killer’s name got out. If that were to happen, Tukola
would be killed within an hour. He knew the loathing the crew harbored could
not be contained; Tukola could have also pushed the ordinary seaman to his near
demise, he pondered. Then he thought of the beautiful young vibrant Pippa and
his heart sank.  Maybe he could have him arrested in Havana.

 The following day crept up
on Henry unnoticed and unannounced - it was Christmas Day. How he loved
Christmas and all the wonderful family get-togethers with presents and
decorations and even strangers wishing one another a happy Christmas, it was
probably his favorite time of year. The saloon that morning was bedecked with a
few tawdry and tarnished decorations - the only thing to remind one this was a
special day. The same somber atmosphere hung in the air at the breakfast table.
The captain wished everyone a very happy Christmas and invited those officers
who were not watch keeping to join him at noon in the officer’s smoke room for
Christmas drinks. The crew got a ration of rum and beer but there was no sound
of merriment along any of the alleyways. A few were in the recreation room,
playing cards and darts, but most men spent the day wandering around the deck
or lying in their bunks. Henry spent his off duty on his bunk, studying his atlas,
making mental notes of the places the ship had visited and the terrible
happenings she’d left in her wake. It was only after they had finished the
evening dinner that the chief steward called them into his cabin and offered
them a drink. Henry enjoyed a generous glass of gin with ice and fresh lime; he
then gave them half a dozen beers to take with them. Their cabin was hot and
stuffy so Henry and Gary went on deck. They were both feeling a little merry
after the drinks. Gary pulled out a packet of cigarettes and they sat on the
hatch smoking; facing west into the setting sun as it dropped like a fiery ball
into a crimson and purple horizon. Suddenly Tukola appeared before them like an
ogre, standing bare chested, his legs splayed, his closed swollen eye gave him
a hideous malevolent look; his face powerful but misshapen and tormented. He
looked both pathetic and at the same time, brutal. A smirk played on his lips
as he attempted to smile; it did nothing to mask the black void that was his
soul. He pulled a drag on a cigarette, letting the smoke drift slowly from his
mouth and then threw the lighted cigarette hitting Gary on the foot. Henry
noticed he had his hand on the knife handle on his belt. Gary stood close to
Henry who stood up and faced him. Henry pulled his knife first and took a step
closer to him; he was now just outside arm’s length away. Tukola now had his
knife in hand, hanging by his side, but his face betrayed his hesitancy as he
blinked his eye and shifted his feet.

Henry knew that these signs indicated
he was backing down, but he was still dangerous.

“If you intend using that
knife come on.”

Henry raised his knife to
challenge him.

Tukola stood staring; his jaw
muscles moving as he ground his teeth.

 “You’re not too brave
against a man now are you?”

Gary moved a little towards
him.

“We’re not young helpless
girls like that black kid in Africa you intended killing, only I came on the
scene.”

 He scowled like a dog.

 “What you talk about a black
girl, I never hurt her.”

Henry unsuccessfully tried to
control his rage, stepping forward ready to strike with the first excuse.

“You killed young girls, you
animal!” The words came spitting with hatred.

Tukola knew it was probably
Henry who took the box from his cabin, and now he knew everything.

He turned to walk away and
spat with venom.

“The streets of Havana are
dark and dangerous, you watch your back.”

 Gary stood trembling and
waited until Tukola was out of earshot.

“Jesus Henry, I thought we’d
had it! I would never have believed he’d back down. Would you have used that
knife if it came to it?”

 “What do you think? That I’d
let him stab the two of us? No Gary, I’d have used it without hesitation.”

“I’m sure you would have, Henry.”

So, he was the one you saw
roughing up the black girl in the West African port?”

“He wasn’t just roughing her up;
she was cut all down her arm where she tried to fend him off. Another minute
and she would have been dead meat. Do you believe that he killed the two girls;
the boat girl and Miss Pippa?”

 “Yes Gary, I would, and a
lot more we don’t know about. We better watch our backs now. Not only on board
ship, but also if we get to go ashore in Havana.”

Chapter Thirty

 The ship anchored in Havana harbor
on the evening of December 30
^th
. 1958, the radio news had said that
the city of Santa Clara had fallen to the rebels and they were pushing towards
Havana. The ship’s agent came on board and assured them that a berth would be
ready next day as a Liberian liberty ship with a full cargo of sugar was ready
to sail. There was no mail, he said, but a sub would be available. There was no
talk of shore leave being restricted.

The captain decided not to go
ashore so late in the evening. Although he had pressing business, he gave a
sealed letter to the ship’s agent and asked him to deliver it as soon as
possible and to wait for a reply. The letter was to the only person he hoped
would help him in his present crisis; the British Ambassador to Cuba, Alfred
Stanley Fordham. By coincidence, Henry sat in his cabin writing a letter to the
same person; in it he explained his position and asked if there were any
British agents who might help. He hadn’t much expectations of assistance
because earlier, while on deck, he could see fishing boats departing the harbor
loaded with fleeing top brass government officials, high ranking police and
army personnel - the exodus had started. He presumed the airport was jammed
with flights out and back from the U.S.A. as thousands of Batista sympathizers
feared the reprisals of the Castro rebels. He finished the letter sealed the envelope
but did not address it. Now he pondered how he could have it delivered. He had
all the information, the ambassador’s name, address and so forth and a hand
drawn map he had received from Danny. He guessed he wouldn’t have too much time
ashore and the embassy was in a part of the city called Miramar, a good
distance from the docks. A sub list came around and he subbed substantially more
money than he would normally need for his own entertainment; he’d heard Havana
referred to
as
a city of bribes and tips.

 They went alongside at
eleven hundred hours next day, everything they could see from on board the ship
looked as normal as any port, the hatches were opened and loading began. The
Cuban men working the ship were remarkably quiet and subdued they hardly spoke
when asked about the state of things ashore, proclaiming their lack of English
for not conversing. “No speak English.”

 The fishing boats were
plying their trade outward bound loaded with people crowded on their decks, and
returning empty. After lunch Henry walked around the deck taking in the sights
and the sweet scent of the sugar seemed to hang on the air. Such a beautiful
place even from what he’d seen from the ship, the proud old Spanish colonial
buildings silent patient sentinels under the glaring hot sun. There would be no
afternoon shore leave and the sub wouldn’t be up until after dinner, so it
would be an evening stint ashore.

 Dinner that evening was abuzz
with conversation, young officers and engineers looking forward to a bit of
shore leave. The sight of a skirt and a pint of cool beer in a pub would surely
be the nub of beer drinkers. The gangway was being rattled with spruced up
crewmen from eighteen hundred onwards; as soon as they had their money in hand.
Gary came in from showering, whistling, it was the first time Henry had seen
him in such a carefree mood. He threw off the towel and started to dress.

“Would you hurry up a bit if
you’re coming ashore, you don’t seem to be too keen to hit the tiles. I hear
from the second cook who’s been here before that the women are second to none,
pure delicious coffee colored sex fiends.”

 Henry was standing naked, he
pulled a towel around his middle and walking out the door he spoke over his
shoulder. “I hope you’re right about the women. You go ahead and I’ll catch up.
I’ll meet you in the nearest watering hole. You be careful of Tukola, don’t go
into a pub if he’s there, avoid him at all costs.”

Gary stood admiring himself
in the mirror, bared his gums to examine his straight white teeth.

“You can be sure I’ll avoid
him and the second cook will be on guard too.”

 Henry looked at the soap in
his hand, he spoke sharply.

“Right; I’ll see you up town.”

 He was the only one in the
washroom, all hands were gone. He let the shower curtain open while he showered
and had the towel handy with his knife wrapped in it. He didn’t want Gary with
him tonight. Instead, he wanted to follow Tukola if it was at all possible, but
if he was noticed it could result in a confrontation.

 It was easy dress in this
climate so he chose a light blue shirt and gray slacks, he shook out the last
of the after shave; there’d be no more old spice this trip. His hair had grown,
it was thick and filled the comb, the sun had bleached it light blonde and it
reached down the back of his neck to the collar of his shirt. He looked in the
mirror made a little face and spoke to his image. “You’ll do.”

 He tucked his knife into his
belt and made a promise if this trip went on much longer he would get a proper
knife with a scabbard before he castrated himself! It was nineteen thirty hours
when he went out on deck. He had his letter to the ambassador tucked safely
into his back pocket. He stood around and waited to see if there were more men
going ashore; he thought he might see Tukola and tail him if he was on his own.
Ten minutes went by and he decided all that were going ashore were gone. He set
off and the first street he came to was San Pedro. It was quiet; he met very
few people until he came to an open space, the Plaza de San Francisco de Asis.
The sun was setting and the square was filled with a red tinted hue of sun
rays, the water flowing in the beautiful lion fountain splashed and sparkled
like rose wine. He sat and admired the magnificent Cathedral with baroque style
architecture shaded in the crimson light. The peace and beauty belied any
suggestion that the country was in the midst of a revolution.

She seemed to appear out of
the sun rays that filtered through the streets and over rooftops. She stood
smiling, her white teeth and full red lips begged for the master’s oils to
capture the deep brown eyes, perfect Moorish nose, high cheek bones and long
elegant neck. Her hair was shining dark auburn with highlights of wheaten
blonde and touched her slight shoulders. Her full rounded, pert breasts pushed
a scarlet blouse to its extreme, and a slim waistline covered with a short
light cotton cream skirt, blossomed onto full rounded buttocks. Henry stared
for a moment which seemed an age, then stood and asked her would she like to
sit with him.

“Thank you. I would like very
much speak you.”

 He gave her an outstretched
hand.

 “I’m Henry.”

 She gripped his hand and held
it, looking into his eyes.

“I’m Alicia.”

 “I’m pleased to meet you
Alicia.”

 “You too Henry. You from
ship?”

 “Yes, I’m from the ship, we
arrived yesterday and are loading sugar. The ship’s name is the Rangoon.”

 “You stay maybe two weeks to
take all sugar for ship?”

 “Yes, we stay maybe two
weeks.”

A group of five youths ran
across the square, they were wielding short sticks and were waving some kind of
cloth above their heads.

“You know plenty trouble in
Cuba now. All police gone, all army people gone. People break shop windows and
steal.”

 “Are we safe to stay around
here?”

 “Yes, they will not harm us
people, only steal from shops and houses of very rich people. All rich
Americans go back to their home, they are afraid of Castro when he come with
his army.”

 “What will happen when
Castro takes over the country?”

 “We will have plenty jobs
and plenty money, the same as America, nice houses and plenty to eat.”

 “So are many people poor
here now?  Are there few jobs?”

 “Yes, we are very poor and
not many nice houses. I live with my mother and in a small part of a big house.
My father go many years now to America. He say we can come to him but we never
hear again. I work, sometime clean hotel, serve people at dinner, but not all
time get work so sometimes I have no money. My mother work in market some days
and get food and not much money.”

 “How old are you Alicia? I
love your name by the way.”

 “Thank you Henry, I am
nineteen years old.”

 “You are a very beautiful
girl and should be a model or in films.”

 She laughed a full and
hearty laugh, throwing back her head and then shaking her silk hair into place.

“You know Henry, I always
wanted to be in films like Ava Gardiner, and Marilyn Munroe. It’s a dream, I
think all peoples have dreams, and sometimes they come true.”

 “Yes, all people have dreams,
but not all come true. There is a song: You can wish upon a star, makes no
difference where you are, your dreams come true.”

 “It sounds a beautiful song.”

 “Yes for a beautiful girl. Would
you like to come for a drink?”

 “Yes, I not drink much but I
come with you.”

She stood up and caught Henry
by the hand and pulled him to his feet dragging him close to her. He could feel
her body pressing against him as she looked into his eyes and kissed him softly
on the lips. “I like you Henry, you like me?”

 “I like you very much.”

 “We go nice bar yes? You
hear Ernest Hemmingway, he write books, he sometimes drink at La Bodeguita del
Medio, but not now all American people go. Come Henry, we here now.”

 There was a few of the crew
there but no sign of Gary or Tukola. They sat and Henry enjoyed a cold pint
while Alicia sipped a daiquiri with sliced ice and fresh lime. Some of the
customers at the bar were in full flow discussing something that included
Castro and Che Guevara and the talk became very heated from time to time. Batista
was referred to in a number of the fiery exchanges. Henry assumed they were
discussing the imminent take-over by the rebel troops. Alicia spoke in a very
low tone.

 “They’re talking about Fidel
Castro’s troops coming soon. Batista will be arrested and we will have a new
government.”

 Henry pondered the idea of
asking Alicia to be his messenger. They were sitting unnoticed and out of ear
shot.

“Would you like another drink?”

 “No thank you Henry, I still
have plenty,” she said, holding up her half full glass.

 Henry came back from the bar
with his beer and sat a little closer to Alicia. She was pleased with this new
intimacy and moved her thigh against his.

 “Alicia I am going to ask
you to do something for me tomorrow; I have a letter and I can’t get off the
ship during the day to go myself.”

 “Ok Henry, you tell me what
it is and I will try to do it for you.”

 “I want you to take the
letter to the British Ambassador. The Embassy is out in Miramar.”

 She looked around a little
frightened at what she thought might be an impending subterfuge.

“It is a long way to go I
have no cycle to ride.”

 Henry almost laughed.

“No, you don’t need a cycle,
take a taxi and ask the driver to wait while you get an answer to my letter.”

He took out the letter and
she put it straight into her bag.

“Could you go in the morning
and I could meet you at the same place in the plaza where I met you tonight at
say, four o’clock.”

 “Yes Henry, I will do that
and meet you at four o’clock.”

 They finished their drinks and
slipped out of the bar. The streets were dark, all the lighting was out and a
half moon was doing its best to light their way. She pulled him close as they
walked the shadowy streets; there was loud noise and voices raised coming from
one of the side streets He looked up and read a sign with paint peeling; “O
Reilly Street”. Good God, where did an Irish name like that come from, Henry
mused. There were lights on in the next street and music blaring from open
windows. He stopped and looking around to make sure they were alone, he took a
wad of bills out of his pocket and peeled off four tens and handed them to
Alicia.

“Take these they will pay for
your taxi.”

 She looked at the amount of
money and tried to hand some of it back.

“Too much money for a taxi,
you take this.”

 “Please Alicia, take it and
I will see you tomorrow at four o’clock.”

 “I will give you my home
address in case I miss you.”

She took out a piece of paper
and wrote on it.

“This my address, if I not
able to come meet you. Come, my home not far, will you like to stay, no problem,
only my mother and she not mind you stay.”

 “Alicia, I would like
nothing better than to stay with you but I must return to the ship tonight, but
next night if you want me, I will stay.”

 “Come with me this way,” she
held him close and they walked another block and she turned him into a dark
doorway. She pulled him down with her arms around his neck and kissed him with
a hungry passion. Her flimsy clothes were moving until he had his hands on bare
flesh. He felt for his hardness and after lifting her dress and deftly removing
her panties, he eased into her. He responded to her fiery desire and in the
dark recess she moaned and cried, clinging to him like melting chocolate as he
lost himself in the hot comfort of her curvaceous body. With passions spent,
they held each other tight, neither wanting to let go