The QE2 Is Missing

The last of the clouds were disappearing on the horizon. The storm was over at last. A few people were beginning to stir among the thousands sleeping on the beach, walking towards the area in the scrub that had been cordoned off as toilets. The lifeboats lay in neat rows where they had been beached at high tide. Everything had been efficiently organized by the ship’s personnel. He could see that.the kitchen staff and stewards were already awake, brewing up something hot to drink from the lifeboats’ stores. Chvosta smacked his lips together, aware of the foul taste in his mouth. He had scarcely had anything to eat, just some water to drink, all the time he had been locked in the cabin with Aurelia. Nor had he wanted anything after his seasickness had returned. Now, on dry land again, he felt well — and ravenous. He threw the blankets from his immense body, sat up and stretched. Aurelia was lying asleep next to him, her round, full rump rising up, clearly delineated by the blankets. Chvosta reached slowly out.

“Bitch,” he muttered and prodded his large thumb again and again into her flesh. She squealed and was awake. When they had been tied in that bed together, and he had been sick, she had said some unforgettable things. He would make her pay.

“I’m going to get something to eat. For myself. Meanwhile you find some paper and start preparing a message to Captain Bartovska aboard the Lyngby Kro. I made provisions in case the payment was misdirected. He knows what to do. Those Uruguayan sailors are never going to reach port with those arms.”

“And how am I supposed to send this cable?” Her voice dripped venom; she rubbed her sore buttocks. “The boat and launch radios have all been destroyed, you heard that yourself.”

“We won’t be on this island forever. If you were listening so closely, then you must have heard them talk about filling the empty water cans with petrol. With the storm over, the launch should be able to reach Mexico. And they’ll be searching for us. We’ll be off this rock soon. And I want that cable ready. Do it now.”

He stalked away, sniffing the air in anticipation, his massive stomach rumbling its need. This deal would have to be written off, what with the two contracted governments tottering, the payment gone — and the German paymasters themselves apprehended. But Global Traders wouldn’t lose out, once they had the cargo back from the ship. The nonreturnable dances that had been paid would more than cover their expenses. The arms would be sold elsewhere at a good profit. He might even get a bonus out of it. If he did, after she apologized, he might even let Aurelia keep her job. She was really too efficient to fire.

It would all work out. And at least one good thing had come out of all this already. The Nazis, the guard had told him, half of them killed and the others going back for trial. Wonderful! He would do business with Nazis, he would do it with the devil if he wanted some guns, but that did not mean he had to like them. He knew what they had done in Czechoslovakia during the war. So killing a few and putting the rest away, that was a very good thing. The day would be warm, the food would have to taste good, whatever it was. He was humming as he came to the makeshift kitchen, stepping around a little man in a rumpled steward’s uniform who was sipping a cup of tea.

Robert finished his tea and returned the cup. There had been little enough to do since they had come ashore, what with all the kitchen staff and sailors pitching in together. It had been one of the other room stewards who had searched him out this morning, waving the paper.

“‘Ere, Robert, ain’t this bloke one of yours?”

The message was written on a single folded sheet of heavy paper, sealed shut by heavy string that had been sewed around the edges. MSR. GREENSTEIN — FIRST CLASS — URGENTE was printed on the outside in heavy capital letters.

“Only one Greenstein in First Class,” Robert had said. “I’ll see if I can find him. Ta’.”

Poor Mr. and Mrs. Greenstein, he thought, trudging through the sand, looking at the faces of the people sprawled out there. What a luxurious honeymoon! Happy enough to start, what with the free trip from the uncle and all. But then the hijackers bursting in and using their suite for their shoot-ups, not to mention locking him in the bog most of the night. And then to be cast away on this island! At least they weren’t hurt — and what a story to tell their grandchildren.

A woman turned towards him, yes, it could be. He hurried over.

“Mrs. Greenstein? I hope that you are all right this morning.”

“Is that you, Robert? My heavens, you aren’t bringing us a breakfast tray in bed are you? With the morning paper?”

“I wish I could, madam, I honestly do. In fact, now I know where you are, I can bring you some tea and those hard-tack biscuits. And marmalade. Not too bad.”

“No, really, I was just joking.”