She put down her pen, shook the cramp out of her hand, and read back through what she had written.
After having had my cover almost blown by the indiscretions of the gardener, I proceeded to follow Mrs Heyton as she walked away from the Pytheas Restaurant, in the direction of the front of the ship. More than once she turned around. I believe she was making sure that she was not being followed. Each time, I was able to avoid being seen.
Mrs Heyton summoned an elevator and entered it alone. This made following her very difficult as I had to wait for her to exit in order to determine which floor she got out on. The elevator stopped at deck eleven. I had already summoned the other elevator, and it arrived presently. I used this to take me to deck eleven, where I began to search for Mrs Heyton. My first thought was to avoid the outer sun deck and concentrate my search on the inner area. My hunch was proved correct as I found her not far away, still carrying two portions of dinner rations. I exited onto the sun deck and followed closely, keeping her in sight at all times through the windows.
Mrs Heyton stopped at cabin 1124. She did not knock, but the door opened from the inside. I conclude from this that someone was waiting for her, watching for her arrival from the spy hole in the door. Before entering the cabin, she once again looked around, as if making sure she had not been followed. Her behaviour can only be described as suspicious.
At this point I made a judgement to stake out the cabin with the aim of finding out if anyone other than Mr Heyton was present. The sun deck provided me with cover, and I was able to position a deck chair in such a way as to keep the cabin in view. Mrs Heyton left the cabin shortly after arriving. I was unable to follow her and maintain my surveillance. Over the course of one hour, I watched five people arriving at and leaving cabin 1124. All of these were women in their sixties, and all carried two portions of rations. One of these women was Mrs Moran, who had previously been reported missing.
Mrs Moran was the last woman I saw arrive. When she left, I decided to follow her. She led me (unknowingly) to another cabin on the other side of the ship, cabin 1182. The door was opened to her without her knocking.
Due to the position of cabin 1182 it was not possible to watch it without being seen by anyone who may have been using the spy hole, so I returned to 1124 and took up my position there once again. For a half hour nobody came to the cabin, but then there were many more arrivals. This time they were mainly young people. I noted the following during the next thirty minutes:
- A young man, estimated mid-twenties.
- A middle-aged man.
- A couple I estimated to be in their thirties.
- Two women, one mid-thirties, the other a bit older.
Most of these people looked nervous as they arrived, and all looked relieved when they left. Nobody stayed in the cabin for more than ten minutes. On every occasion, the door was opened from the inside.
After an hour of surveillance I left deck eleven. My next stop was Mrs Silvia Brook, where I was able to look up the cabin assignments. Mrs Brook advised that cabins 1182 and 1124 are currently listed as unoccupied, awaiting allocation. She found this surprising as they are both large multi-room suites.
Conclusion: It is my belief that some kind of illicit trade is being carried out in cabin 1124. The women in 1182 may be willing participants in this trade, but I believe it more likely that they are being coerced into delivering food there. It is my conjecture that these women — and their husbands — are being held against their will. The women collect meals from the restaurants and deliver them to the black market, which uses them as currency in exchange for other goods.
Grace nodded slowly to herself. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced there was a black market operating from the deck-eleven cabin. She needed to get in there to be sure. There was little point going to Max without proper evidence, so she’d have to go undercover and try and collect some. Her shift began at nine, so she had just enough time to put her plan into action before turning up for work.
• • •
The Lance was to be met by Jake, Vardy, Max, and Martin. They were the official greeting party. Unofficially, word had got out that the ship had been taken. Gunshots in the early hours of the morning hardly went unnoticed, and many on the port side of the ship had been awoken by the violent sounds of the liberation of the research vessel. News, as always in the confines of the cruiser, spread quickly. So by the time the Lance approached, there were a great many early risers on the outer decks, trying to catch a glimpse of the very first survivors to be seen since the asteroid.
As soon as it had become clear that the operation to take control of the Lance was a success, Jake and the other officers had begun final preparations for her arrival. While the submariners de-clogged the propeller and got the engine started up again, Vardy went in search of nurses, who had been allowed to sleep as late as possible.
Jake had called in on Lucya. He’d suspected she wouldn’t be sleeping, and he’d been right. Now she knew that the operation was over, she could try and get an hour or two of sleep before it would be time to get Erica up and ready for school, then take command on the bridge.
Martin had gone straight to deck two to wait for the Lance’s arrival. He was keen to take a look around the captured ship to get an idea of how they would proceed to their next destination with her. Either in tow, or under her own power.
The Lance circled around the Spirit of Arcadia, eventually drawing up against the starboard side of the cruiser. A cut-out in the high rim of her hull made it easy to rig up a wide walkway between the research ship and the starboard passenger hatch.
By then, the first rays of the morning sun were already scattering through the dusty clouds. Illuminated by natural daylight rather than the artificially white floodlights, the ship looked less menacing than it had overnight, although the great scaffold in the back still gave it a somewhat alien quality. Jake felt a shiver run down his spine as ropes were secured to the cruiser, and the walkway was heaved into place by a couple of sailors.
Brian was the first man off. Jake was shocked to see that his leg was tied with a blood-soaked bandage.
“Oh, yeah. Got a bit shot,” he said, shrugging as he noticed Jake looking.
“Get yourself up to deck eight. Room 845,” Vardy said. “Temporary hospital.”
“If it’s all the same, I’d like to see the other men off first. We’re not done here yet. Anyway, it’s just a flesh wound.” He gave the sort of twisted grin that made Jake think there was a shared joke between the two men.
Martin rocked from foot to foot, eager to get on board. Before that could happen, they needed to get everyone else off.
The first to come were the captives, who had been found down below the waterline. They were brought out by the sailors into the ever-brightening morning, where they blinked back the light and stared in awe at the towering mass of the Spirit of Arcadia. Some were able to walk, with help. Some had to be carried, too weak to stand on their own two legs. All of them were foul-smelling, and it was easy to see why. Their clothes were drenched with effluent mixed with seawater and oil, and in some cases there was blood added to the cocktail too. Their rancid torn clothes, and their weak, atrophied muscles, their pasty white faces pocked with bruises, and their unkempt, matted hair and reddened eyes told a story of an inhumane incarceration.