"That-harmless-child?" I spaced the words in slow incredulity. "A bitch?"

"A tramp, a little tramp! A slut! A little gutter-'

"Stop it!" Stryker's voice was a lash, but it had strained overtones. I had the feeling that only desperation would make him talk to his wife in this fashion.

"Yes, stop it," I said. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Miss Haynes, and I'm damned sure you don't either. All I know is you're sick."

I turned to go. Stryker barred my way. He'd lost a little colour from his cheeks.

"Nobody talks to my wife that way." His lips hardly moved as he spoke.

I was suddenly sick of the Strykers. I said: "I've insulted your wife?"

"Unforgivably."

"And so I've insulted you?"

`You're getting the point, Marlowe."

"And anyone who insults you gets what's coming to them. That's what you said to Captain Imrie."

"That's what I said."

I see."

"I thought you might." He still barred my way.

"And if I apologise?"

"An apology?" He smiled coldly. "Let's try one out for size, shall we?"

I turned to Judith Haynes. I said: I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Miss Haynes, and I'm damned sure you don't either. All I know is you're sick."

Her face looked as if invisible claws had sunk deep into both cheeks all the way from temple to chin and dragged back the skin until it was stretched drum-tight over the bones. I turned to face Stryker. His facial skin didn't look tight at all. The strikingly handsome face wasn't handsome any more, the contours seemed to have sagged and jellied and the cheeks were bereft of colour. I brushed by him, opened the door and stopped.

"You poor bastard," I said. "Don't worry. Doctors never tell."

I was glad to make my way up to the clean biting cold of the upper deck.

I'd left something sick and unhealthy and more than vaguely unclean down there behind me and I didn't have to be a doctor to know what the sickness was. The snow had eased now and as I looked out over the weather side-the port side-I could see that we were leaving one promontory about a half mile behind on the port quarter while another was coming up about the same distance ahead on the port bow. Kapp Kolthoff and Kapp, Malmgren, I knew from the chart, so we had to be steaming northeast across the Evjebukta. The cliffs here were less high, but we were even more deeply into their lee than twenty minutes previously and the sea had moderated even more. We had less than three miles to go.

I looked up at the bridge. The weather, obviously, was improving considerably or interest and curiosity had been stimulated by the close proximity of our destination, for there was now a small knot of people on either wing of the bridge but with hoods so closely drawn as to make features indistinguishable. I became aware that there was a figure standing close by me huddled up against the fore superstructure of the bridge. It was Mary Darling with the long tangled blond tresses blowing in every direction of the compass. I went towards her, put my arm round her with the ease born of recent intensive practice, and tilted her face. Red eyes, tear-splotched cheeks, a little woebegone face half-hidden behind the enormous spectacles: the slut, the bitch, the little tramp.

"Mary darling," I said. "What are you doing here? It's far too cold. You should be inside or below."

I wanted to be alone." There was still the catch of a dying sob in her voice. "And Mr. Gilbert kept wanting to give me brandy-and, well-?'

She shuddered.

"So you've left Lonnie alone with the restorative. That'll be an eminently satisfactory all-round conclusion as far as Lonnie-?'

"Dr. Marlowe!" She became aware of the arm round her and made a half-hearted attempt to break away. "People will see us!"

"I don't care," I said. I want the whole world to know of our love.'

`You want the whole-" She looked at me in consternation, her normally big eyes huge behind her glasses, then came the first tremulous beginnings of a smile. "Oh, Dr. Marlowe!"

"There's a young man below who wants to see you immediately," I said.

"Oh!" The smile vanished, heaven knows what gravity of import she found in my words. "Is he-I mean, he'll have to go to hospital, won't he?"

"He'll be up and around this afternoon."

"Really? Really and truly?"

If you're calling my professional competence into question-?'

"Oh, Dr. Marlowe Then what-why does he-'

I should imagine he wants you to hold his hand. I'm putting myself in his shoes, of course."

"Oh, Dr. Marlowe! Will it-I mean in his cabin-"

"Do I have to drag you down there?"

"No." She smiled. I don't think that will be necessary." She hesitated.

"Dr. Marlowe?"

"Yes?"

I think you're wonderful. I really do."

"Hoppit."

She smiled, almost happily now, and hopped it. I wished I even fractionally shared her opinion of me, for if I was in a position to do so there would be a good number fewer of dead and sick and injured around.

But I was glad of one thing, I hadn't had to hurt Mary Darling as I'd feared I might, there had been no need to ask her any of the questions that had half-formed in my mind even as I had left the Strykers" cabin. If she were even remotely capable of being any of those things that Judith Haynes had, for God knew what misbegotten reasons, accused her of being, then she had no right to be in the film industry as a continuity girl, she was in more than a fair way to making her fame and fortune as one of the great actresses of our time. Besides, I didn't have to ask any questions now, not where she and Allen and the Strykers were concerned: it was hard to say whether my contempt for Michael Stryker was greater than my pity.

I remained where I was for a few minutes watching some crew members who had just come on to the foredeck begin to remove the no longer necessary lashings from the deck cargo, strip off tarpaulins and set slings in places, while another two set about clearing away the big fore derrick and testing the winch. Clearly, Captain Imrie had no intention of wasting any time whatsoever upon our arrival: he wanted, and understandably, to be gone with all dispatch. I went aft to the saloon.

Lonnie was the sole occupant, alone but not lonely, not as long as he had that bottle of Hince happily clutched in his fist. He lowered his glass as I sat down beside him.

"Ah! You have assuaged the sufferings of the walking wounded? There is a preoccupied air about you, my dear fellow." He tapped the bottle. "For the instant alleviation of workaday cares-"

"That bottle belongs to the pantry, Lonnie."

"The fruits of nature belong to all mankind. A soupgon?"

If only to stop you from drinking it all. I have an apology to make to you, Lonnie. About our delectable leading lady. I don't think there's enough kindness around to waste any in throwing it in her direction."

"Barren ground, you would say? Stony soil?"

I would say."

"Redemption and salvation are not for our fair Judith?"

"I don't know about that. All I know is that I wouldn't like to be the one to try and that looking at her I can only conclude that there's an awful lot of unkindness around."

"Amen to that." Lonnie swallowed some more brandy. "But we must not forget the parables of the lost sheep and the prodigal son. Nothing and nobody is ever entirely lost."

I daresay. Luck to leading her back to the paths of the righteous-you shouldn't have to fight off too much competition for the job. How is it, do you think, that a person like that should be so different from the other two?"

"Mary dear and Mary darling? Dear, dear girls. Even in my dotage I love them dearly. Such sweet children."

"They could do no wrong?"

"Never!"

"Ha! That's easy to say. But what if, perhaps, they were deeply under the influence of alcohol?"