Chapter 18
The Talavera altered course and inched open her throttles. The first officer told the passengers, again herded into the Grand Salon, that they were heading for the spot where a freighter had holed the Garibaldi, an Italian emigrant ship.
Captain Dane had not ordered full speed ahead on the grounds that if his vessel came to grief, he could be of no service.
Several hours must elapse before the Talavera reached the position of the disaster.
However, the Garibaldi was sinking slowly, and its surviving passengers and crew were being transferred by life-boat to freighter, the Mary Jane.
“The Mary Jane is apparently seaworthy, but she has considerable damage to her bows, and of course she has no accommodations for passengers. We haven’t a great deal,” the first mate continued ruefully, “but at least we can give them all shelter from the elements. I understand there are over one thousand. All passengers who are willing to share their space are requested to give their names and cabin numbers to the Purser.”
“A thousand!” Daisy exclaimed. “And the Talavera has cabins for two hundred, most occupied. I suppose someone could sleep on the floor between our berths, darling.”
“At a pinch,” Alec agreed, and went to join the queue at the Purser’s table.
Arbuckle was first in line. Of course, he and the Petries had a sitting-room. So did the Gotobeds, neither of whom was present. Daisy decided to go down and ask whether they would be willing to put up some of the Garibaldi’s unfortunate passengers.
As she had rather expected, Gotobed was eager to do everything possible to help, while Wanda pouted and complained but gave in.
“I know you don’t feel very well, my dear,” Gotobed apologized, “but think of those poor souls, cold, very likely soaked to the skin, having lost all their possessions and nearly lost their lives. It is the least we can do.”
“I said all right, didn’t I? I’m going to lie down for a bit in the other room while we’ve still got some privacy. Daisy, can I have a word with you?”
Daisy followed her. Wanda sat down on the chaise longue, kicked off her shoes, and lay back. “Give us a fag,” she requested.
“Sorry, I don’t smoke. I didn’t think you did.”
“Dickie doesn’t like women smoking. It’s my nerves. I hardly slept a wink last night. Dickie doesn’t like me to take my powders.” She jumped up and started to pace in stockinged feet. “I can’t sit still.”
“Do you want to move to another cabin, after all? Or have Mr. Gotobed move? I’m sure it could be managed, even with …”
“No, no, I’m not afraid of Dickie. Daisy, is Miss Oliphant really hot under the collar?”
“She’s pretty upset with you,” Daisy said candidly. “Why? Do you want her to give you something to help you sleep? I should think she might.”
“Will you ask her to come and see me? You can tell her
I want to say I’m sorry and I’ve changed my mind about you know what, if you think that’ll help.”
“I’ll ask her to come.” She was not prepared to pass on what she suspected to be an insincere repentance.
In the sitting-room, Gotobed started to rise as she returned. He looked old and disheartened. She waved him back to his seat: “I’m just passing through. Wanda wants to consult the witch.”
His face brightened. “That’s grand. I have great faith in Miss Oliphant.”
As Daisy expected, Miss Oliphant bridled at Wanda’s request, but she softened when she heard of Gotobed’s confidence in her and agreed to go.
Daisy had found her with Arbuckle sitting in deck-chairs in the enclosed promenade. Many passengers were there, their numbers increased by those who had emerged from their cabins with the return of calm seas. Others were outside, standing at the rail, peering fruitlessly into the fog.
“Gloria and Phillip are out there,” Arbuckle said to Daisy as Miss Oliphant left them, “with Lady Brenda and Riddman. That young fella seems to have gotten his act together some.”
“Yes, he’s pulled his socks up since Alec’s heart-to-heart, and Brenda seems as keen on him as ever. I wonder whether their quarrel was a storm in a tea-cup or if there’s trouble ahead.”
“Don’t you worry your head about it, honey.”
“I don’t, not really. I’m just sorry for Mr. Harvey. I suppose his duties kept him from spending enough time with her to win her over.”
“He’s better off without her,” said Arbuckle cynically. “She’s an expensive and flighty young lady.”
“I expect you’re right. Do you happen to know where Alec is?”
Arbuckle shook his head. “I can tell you where he isn’t:
in the Grand Salon. It’s off limits. They’re preparing it to house twelve hundred unexpected passengers.”
The Talavera carried few spare mattresses and no great stock of blankets.
Many passengers had volunteered to give up a blanket or two and bedspreads, and all the clean sheets and towels in the ship were added to the collection.
The Purser had sent out an appeal for clothes.
Daisy went down to the cabin and sorted out a few things she thought she and Alec could spare.
She made sure they all had laundry marks, in case there was a chance they might be returned.
She had just started folding everything neatly when Alec came in.
He looked at the small heaps on the bunks and said, “For the shipwreck victims? Good. Give them all my stiff shirts and collars. I’ll buy new shirts with attached soft collars when we get to New York. Riddman tells me they’re all the rage.”
“You’d better keep a shirt and a couple of collars for extra special occasions, darling,” Daisy said judiciously, “like the Captain’s dinner, though I suppose that will have to be cancelled.”
“Dane will be delighted. Oh, and you can give them that maroon cardigan. It’s warm but I can’t stand the colour. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of it for years, only Mother knitted it.”
“I know, that’s why I didn’t put it out. Right-oh, all in a good cause, as long as when she asks where it’s gone you make it plain it wasn’t my idea. You’ve been talking to Riddman?”
“Just to see if he remembered anything else about Pertwee or Welford, which he doesn’t.
Nor do the three men who admitted to having met them—or Pertwee at least—and a fourth has come forward who is no more helpful.
” He sat down on a berth and watched Daisy folding.
“If Tom doesn’t come up with something useful, I’m stymied. ”
“You mean you’ll have to let Gotobed go?”
“I haven’t really much excuse for holding him now.
Opportunity, yes. As for means: yes in Welford’s case—it would only have taken a good shove; but no proof he had a gun or any other means to cause Pertwee to fall.
Motive: I’m inclined to believe Wanda that Pertwee was never her lover, so it comes down to the pair having been admirers, a decidedly feeble motive even if I had evidence that Gotobed knew. ”
“Which you don’t.”
“Which I don’t.” Alec stood up. “I must go and talk to both of them again before chaos descends upon the ship. I’ll give you a hand carrying those up first.”
They delivered the clothes to the Purser’s office. Alec rejected Daisy’s offer to assist at the interviews with the Gotobeds, so she went to write up her wireless-room notes and add a bit about preparations for receiving vast numbers of refugees.
Then it was just a matter of waiting. Lunch was served to all first-class passengers in their cabins—Daisy and Alec joined Arbuckle and the Petries in their suite. A few others ate in the library at the desks, and everyone else balanced their plates on the arms of deck-chairs.
The rest of the voyage was not going to be comfortable. Fortunately, in spite of the many delays, the Talavera was expected to dock in New York just two days hence.
By mid-afternoon, the majority of the passengers were outside standing at the bows or the front rail of the boat-deck.
The life-boat crews gathered by their boats, ready to lower away.
The fog had thinned since Daisy was out in it, or rather, it was now intermittent.
Long patches, sometimes several hundred yards, were clear, with the sun just visible through a haze.
The Talavera crept along, cutting through the sable waves.
If the sinking ship was wallowing in the fog-bank ahead, Captain Dane was not risking his vessel running into it, errand of mercy or no.
“Hush!” someone shouted, and the chattering crowd grew still. “I thought I heard a fog-horn.”
The Talavera’s fog-horn hooted deafeningly just above them. Everyone laughed, then fell silent again, straining their ears. Faintly through the still air came a distant answer.
A moment later, the Talavera replied. At the same time she altered course slightly.
As she steamed on, the far-off call grew gradually more distinct.
Second Officer Harvey came running down the companion-way from the boat-deck and made the passengers move back from the bows, just as they plunged again into heavy fog.
Arbuckle stopped Harvey. “What’s the chance of us hitting one of those two ships?” he asked bluntly.
“Very little, sir. As you can tell, we are moving very slowly, but the Captain must take obvious precautions. The Garibaldi has been abandoned and the Mary Jane has no wireless, so our only contact, our only fix on their position now is the fog-horn.”
“No wireless,” Phillip exclaimed, “in this modern age!”
“Many freighters don’t, sir. Excuse me, I must get back to the bridge.”
The fog began to turn to drizzle, seeping down from the invisible sky. Many of the passengers headed indoors. Daisy was tempted, but the Mary Jane’s fog-horn was so clear now that the meeting was obviously imminent. She turned up her collar, wishing for a sou’wester.
The Talavera slid through the unravelling fog and suddenly emerged. Through the rain the intent watchers saw a small, broad-beamed ship, stern on. Every inch of its deck was crammed with people. When they saw the Talavera, a shout went up.