NINETEEN

NICK CLOSED AND bolted the cabin door behind me. I stood there for a moment, frowning. By pushing hard, I'd gained some interesting information, but I'd lost something, too. I'd annoyed my dark goddess, my pirate queen, and she'd banished me from her sight. If I'd been nicer, more flattering, less inquisitive, maybe she'd have let me stay on deck. Well, there wasn't much to be accomplished there at the moment, not against Big Nick and a double-barreled shotgun. Not bare-handed.

"What is it?" Teddy Michaelis asked fearfully, sitting up in the bunk. "What did she want with you? What happened?"

I regarded her thoughtfully. Her short, pale hair was mussed and her small face was tear-streaked. She was wearing a kind of green linen romper suit, with a short-sleeved tunic and knee pants. I don't know who dreams up these cute female costumes; I'd rather not know. All she needed was a little shovel and a tin bucket with Donald Duck on it and a sandpile to play in. As an ally in a desperate situation, she looked pretty hopeless.

A change in the schooner's motion made me reach for the dresser to steady myself. We were turning south again. The ship took a definite list to starboard as the sails filled. I sat down on the edge of the bunk beside the kid.

"Thunderbird sent you, didn't he?" I said.

"What do you mean?"

I said, "Don't try to kid me. You'd never have thought of it yourself, not in a million years-warning Mrs. Rosten, I mean. You must have spilled your guts to young Orcutt last night after leaving my hotel room. You broke down and told him how wicked and crazy you'd been, and he showed you, sternly, where your duty lay. Am I right?"

She flushed. "Well, Billy did say-"

"Sure," I said. "I suppose the two of you decided it would look better if you came alone. But the point is, he knew where you were going this morning. When you turn up missing, what do you figure he'll do?"

"Do?" Her voice was sharp. "He won't do anything. He's never done anything in his life except talk! He's just a stuffed shirt, a pompous, moralizing prig; and I told him so last night. I told him he wasn't my conscience, and if he thought I was going to humble myself in front of his snooty aunt or cousin or whatever she is-I told him I wasn't going to do anything of the kind!"

"But you did," I pointed out.

She licked her lips. She was still trying to see herself as a ruthless, conscienceless little adventuress, but her better nature was making it rough.

"Well, I-I don't know what got into me," she said defensively. "I didn't mean-when I got into the car I hadn't the slightest intention of coming. I mean, who does he think he is, lecturing me like that!" She sniffed, on the verge of tears. "It's all his fault. If it hadn't been for him, if he hadn't taken it so big, I'd never have dreamed of coming to see her this morning! I'd have been safe now instead of-" She stopped.

"I see," I said. "In other words, he doesn't know where you were going. So we can't expect much help from him."

She gulped, and nodded miserably. Well, I hadn't really hoped for much from young Orcutt, any more than I'd counted on somebody checking at the hotel, learning I was missing, and taking action in time. It would be hard to say what action they could take without taking a chance of interfering with the job I was supposed to do. Jean had been supposed to make it on her own; presumably the same applied to me.

"Matt," the kid said. "That's your real name, isn't it? Matt?"

"That's right. Matt Helm, agent extraordinary, at your service, ma'am."

"Extraordinary!" she said. "I don't see anything extraordinary about you, getting yourself caught here like a- like a rat in a floating trap!" She glared at me, angry again. "You fake! You-you sheep in wolf's clothing! Pretending to be a-I knew all the time there was something phony about you!"

"Sure," I said.

"Well, I did! You don't think I really meant for you to kill-you don't think I was serious, do you? I knew all the time-I was just kidding you along, for laughs!" She sniffed and rubbed her nose with her forefinger. "I'm not fooling anybody, am I? What's going to happen to us, Matt? What's that woman going to do to us?"

"Well," I said, "first of all, I gather, she's going to take us to meet a gentleman in whom you've expressed a certain interest."

She frowned. "A gentleman?"

"A scientific sort of gent, named Michaelis."

"Papa?" Her eyes became wide and round. "You mean, he's-" She stopped, afraid to say the word.

"Alive?" I said. "Oh, yes, he's alive. They wouldn't kill him; he's much too valuable. He may not be in perfect health-don't forget he's been a prisoner for some weeks

– but he's undoubtedly alive."

She licked her lips, watching my face. "But-but that's wonderful, isn't it? He's alive!"

"Yeah," I said flatly. "It's wonderful, I guess."

"Matt, what's the matter? I don't understand-"

She didn't understand, and I hadn't the slightest intention of enlightening her. The knowledge in Dr. Michaelis' head must not leave the country, Mac had said. That was what I was here for. It looked as if I might even accomplish it, now, and the happy expression on the face of a small, screwball blonde in green rompers had nothing whatever to do with the situation, except that it would have been nice if she'd stayed on shore where she'd belonged. Of all the witnesses I might have got stuck with, as the critical moment approached, I had to find myself sharing a cabin with Michaelis' own daughter.

"It's wonderful," I said without expression. "It's marvelous, and I'm sure you'll have a heart-warming reunion with your long-lost daddy. In fact, if things go the way Mrs. Rosten hopes, you'll have lots of opportunities to talk over old times. She's planning to put us all aboard a freighter for a long sea voyage, somewhere out beyond the three-mile limit, after which I suppose she'll turn back with her schooner and head for home. How she expects to cover up afterwards, I don't know, but she's undoubtedly got some ideas on the subject, and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they'd work. She's a very competent lady, and she's got lots of money and plenty of nerve-"

"Oh, stop talking about her!" Teddy's voice was breathless. "Who cares about her? What happens to us?"

It was a practical point of view, but before I could discuss it with her, there were footsteps in the passageway. The knock on the door was hesitant, very different from Nick's loud warning rap.

"Yes?" I said.

"Petroni-I mean Helm?" It was Louis Rosten's voice.

"Yes?"

"Stand back. Stand well back. Don't try anything."

"Sure."

The bolt slid back and the door opened. Louis checked himself when he saw me sitting on the bunk, facing him across the narrow cabin.

"If you jump me, it won't really help you," he said weakly.

"It'll get us out of here," I said.

"And what then? I haven't got a gun for you to use. There's only one on the ship, and you know who's got that. And you can't handle Nick without a gun, nobody can. Not to mention my dear wife herself and her smoothbore artillery, which I can assure you is loaded with buckshot in both barrels."

"All right. Come in and make your pitch, whatever it is."

He slipped inside and pressed the door closed beside him. He looked kind of shrunken inside his yachting costume. Beneath the bill of his natty cap, his handsome face was drawn and haggard. I thought I could detect hangover and fear in approximately equal concentrations.

"You've got to tell me!" he said. "I've got to know; I can't stand it any more. The way she looks at me! Is she just playing cat and mouse with me? Does she know, Helm? Have you told her?"

I glanced around the cabin. "Is it safe to talk?"

"Safe? What do you mean?"