Chapter 60
LEAVING THE DEAD MAN behind the stack of hawsers, Pendergast went back to the storeroom door and listened.
He soon heard footsteps on the deck again, but he immediately realized there were two people, not one, and he let them pass.
After waiting a bit, he eased the door open again, peering up and down the cargo deck.
There was no one in sight. He eased out, then dashed silently down the deck.
He stopped at the door where secure cargo would normally have been stored—except this new door was made of stainless steel, with a lock but no handle.
He crept past it and, seeing someone coming down the ladder, ducked into the next door—the crew mess.
He expected it to be empty, given the hour and the paucity of crew, but to his surprise a cabin boy was clearing the table.
The youth looked up, freezing at the sight of a gruesome man covered in blood, gore, and caked coal dust.
Pendergast, too, momentarily froze, marlin spike in striking position. The boy couldn’t be more than fifteen years old. Pendergast leapt on the terrified youth just as he was about to scream, locked an arm around his neck, and clapped a hand over his mouth.
The boy twisted and struggled, and Pendergast whispered in his ear: “Stop, or I’ll drive this into your neck.” He gave a little prick with the spike.
The boy fell still. His eyes were wide and Pendergast saw they were starting to leak tears of fright.
“If you follow my orders exactly, you will live,” Pendergast continued. “When I take my hand away, don’t make a sound. Nod if you agree.”
The boy nodded.
“I have questions.”
Another nod.
“How many are on board? Whisper the answer.” He removed his hand so the boy could speak.
“Um, eight.”
“Name them.”
The list of names came out in a series of halts and stammers. “Dr. Magnus. Captain LaGrange. Mr. John, first mate. Manning, Rodney, and, um, Goins, crew. Mr. Robertson, chief engineer. And—and Mr. Dunning, engineer’s mate.”
“No pilot?”
“Dr. Magnus serves as pilot.”
“Are they armed?”
“Yes, sir.”
One of the three crewmen, Pendergast figured, must have been the man he killed. “Where are we headed?”
“Goose Island Outside Pond.”
“And what will happen there?”
“That’s… Dr. Magnus’s special place. The boat’s been there before.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s behind the steel door that’s locked so securely?”
“I don’t know. No one’s allowed in there but Dr. Magnus.”
“Can you swim?”
“Yes,” said the boy. His teeth had started to chatter the moment Pendergast mentioned the steel door.
“How well?”
“Good enough.”
“Listen closely. We’re leaving this room and going straight to the railing, where you’re going over into the water. Swim away from the boat to clear the paddle wheel. The shore’s only fifty yards away, and the boat’s moving slowly. Understand?”
The boy nodded.
“If you cry for help, they’ll hear you and pull you back on board—and then I’ll have to kill you along with the others.
That means no noise. And no talking to anyone—anyone—about you being aboard tonight, or what you thought you might have seen.
I’m afraid that would land you in so much trouble that death would seem preferable. Understood?”
The boy nodded again.
“You’re going to have to spend the night on an island. The early-morning shrimpers heading to sea will pick you up.”
A final nod.
Holding the boy tightly with one arm, Pendergast went to the door of the mess, cracked it, and made sure the coast was clear. Then, hustling the boy across the deck passageway, he arrived at the rail and, in one smooth motion, heaved him over.
The sounds of the splash were masked by the noisy churning of the paddle wheel. Pendergast saw the boy swimming like mad for the nearby shore as the boat slid past him.
Nobody complicit would leave the boat alive.
It was almost dark, but there was enough light to see the boy reach the muddy embankment, claw his way up it, and slip into the tall switchgrass. In a moment he was gone.