The QE2 Is Missing

After that, they had sat in a cold silence that was broken only by the rattling of dishes and cutlery as the ship heaved beneath them. He was glad when his food arrived and he tucked with pleasure into the fried eggs, double rashers of bacon, a small breakfast steak, hominy grits, toast and hot rolls. Frances drained the dregs of her Citrocarbonate, glanced at his plate and turned pale. Hank shovelled and munched happily. It was too much for her and it fractured even her iron reserve not to say a word to him ever again.

“My God — how can you do it? The ship is sinking, all those about you are collapsed on their deathbeds or heaving their cookies into the lavatory pan. While you, ignorant and unfeeling, are eating enough food to feed a Vietnamese family for a year. How is that possible?”

“I was hungry,” Hank said, very seriously.

Her jaw dropped — and her anger evaporated as she burst out laughing. She reached and held his hand in hers. The free one; he kept shovelling food seriously with the other.

“I really feel terrible,” she said. “And I’ve not been nice to you.”

“You should eat something.”

“Yes. And die instantly. I’ll have another large Citrocarbonate on the rocks. It’s not the sea, really. I’ve been messing around with boats since as long as I can remember and I’m not bothered. It was those sodding Brandy Alexanders, if you must know. Never chat with a Swede who buys you Brandy Alexanders. He can have only one thing in mind. He is a big wheel in publishing, or at least he said so, but what he wanted to really be was a big wheel in the sack with me. This he suggested with a light pinch on my bottom, but he had claws like a lobster or didn’t know his own strength or something because that one grab left black and blue marks. Sobered me up instantly, though. That’s when I staggered back to our cabin and made the grand entrance. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re right to feel as you do. And I want you to point out your Scandinavian masher so I can beat him to a pulp, then push him over the rail.”

“My hero! No, it was my fault for letting him buy me the drinks. I was trying to get away from this whole thing. And I really know that I can’t. I’m sorry — no, we’re going to have to stop telling each other how sorry we are. You’re sorry you got me involved, I’m sorry we are involved. End of sorry time. Did anything important happen?”

Hank wiped his lips and settled back and looked at his empty plate with a happy sigh. “Not only important but practically unbelievable.”

“Try me. After the last few days I’ll believe anything.”

Frances was silent as Hank told her what they had overheard, the details of the unholy alliance that was being forged. Her eyes widened as she listened and at one point she gasped aloud at the enormity of what had been revealed. Slowly and carefully he spelled out the details of the conspiracy and what Uzi thought might be the ultimate aim of the Nazis. When he had finished she shook her head as though dazed; these words struck as physically as blows that stunned her mind.

“You’re in no doubt about this?” she asked, finally. Hank shook his head in a reluctant no.

“I wish I were. But we all heard it — and the facts are on tape. This cruise of ours that began as a simple job of tracing some war criminals has escalated into something like major warfare. These people must be stopped, now, before their palms get rolling. If we fail and the munitions get through, we might very well be seeing an atomic war in ten years’ time.”

“It’s not possible.”

“It certainly is. We read about the Nazis in our history books and they seem gone and past, as unimportant to our lives today as Genghis Khan and his Mongol hordes. But we’re wrong. My father fought in the war — and so did yours. And it was a close-run thing. If a few decisions and battles had gone differently the Germans might have won. They had the reserves and the forces and the will. We might be sailing now on the Adolph Hitler instead of the QE2.

“Now you’re being foolish!”

“No, believe me, I’m not. Luckily history did not turn out that way. But far too many of the German organizers of their war machine, and the concentration camp commanders, are still alive and still as vicious and ambitious as they ever were. They are not a bunch of silly old men, but are dedicated, perverted evil men. They killed millions with their ambitions. Not only those who died in the war but the millions whom they methodically murdered in the camps. Gassed, tortured, poisoned, drowned. And after these helpless victims, including women and children, were dead, they knocked out their teeth for the gold fillings and sold their hair to fill mattresses. If you don’t believe me ask the man who was there — he’s right aboard this ship. Herr Doktor Joachim Wielgus. He’ll know. He’s the one who arranged the sale of the gold and the hair…. “