“Now, look—” André began in a low growl intended to avoid the steward’s hearing, but Anita had already moved to a table far from the bar and seated herself. There was nothing to do but follow. He climbed down, walked over, and sat across from her. “This is very foolish. Kek said—”
“Oh,” Anita said brightly, “speaking of that, do you know where he is?”
“He was out by the pool a few minutes ago, but I wouldn’t—”
“Hold my seat, will you? And don’t go away.” It was said with a touch of demureness, but André, looking into those steady eyes, read the message. He sighed and watched her get up and head for the outside area.
The poolside was crowded with bathers, either paddling as best they could in the restricted space of the pool, or draped about the deck soaking up as much sun as possible, almost as if New York in July had no sun. Kek was lounging easily at the railing, watching several men with shotguns trying to bring down clay pigeons being mechanically ejected from a lower deck, a sport he was sure all of them would consider childish on land. At an entrance to the main saloon, Anita caught a glimpse of Jamison, looking rather worried; beside him a large, uniformed man gazed stolidly out to sea. Jamison relaxed at the sight of Anita and tapped his companion on the arm; the officer swung about and also watched the girl’s progress through the crowd. Anita stopped before Kek and looked up at him with an enticing smile, speaking under the noise about them.
“Hello.”
The slightly questioning frown that appeared on Kek’s face disappeared in almost the same instant. “Hello. What are you doing here?”
“I’m apologizing for having slapped you — when was it? Last week? And in return for my apology you can take me into the bar and have a drink with André and me. I bumped into him, too, but he didn’t say anything improper, so I didn’t slap him.” She took his arm. “Come along quietly, darling. We’ve already ordered.”
Kek forced himself to remain calm, although at the moment there was nothing he would have liked to do as much as turn Anita over his knee and spank her. He walked beside her quite casually. Anita noticed that Jamison and his uniformed companion had disappeared. The two came into the bar, appearing to be chatting about inconsequential matters, and then were seated at the table where André had been waiting. Kek ordered a drink and went through the fiction of introducing himself to the other man while it was being prepared. Then, with a small brandy glass in hand, he raised it. To anyone watching it would appear he was offering a toast, but his words and tone would have dispelled that notion quickly.
“Just which one of you two is responsible for this ridiculous meeting?” he asked, his smiled fixed, his voice dangerously quiet.
“Not me—” André began hastily.
Anita touched her glass to his. “I am, darling. I’m merely following orders. You see, I’ve become a government agent.”
Despite his iron control, Kek could not help but stare. “A what?”
“Keep smiling, darling. Drink your drink. I said, I’ve become a government agent. A spy of sorts, you might say. Of course I don’t get paid for this job, but in the future I imagine I could ask for a fee. This is more or less training, I suppose—”
“Will you please tell me—”
“Right now. You see” — Anita became serious — “last night I had dinner in the captain’s quarters, and there was a man there named Jamison who is — a G-man, I think they call him. Anyway, he told me there was a dangerous smuggler on board, with another man he was sure was the smuggler’s confederate, and he wanted to search their cabins, but in order to do so without being unpleasantly interrupted, he needed some way to keep them occupied while he went through their luggage and drawers and things like that.” She smiled. “My job is to occupy you from now until noon.”
André’s face had hardened. He threw his drink down his throat and started to rise, his huge hands opening and closing, but Kek put a hand on the large man’s massive arm and urged him back into his seat.
“Relax,” he said, and sipped his drink. He put it down and looked at Anita, his eyes twinkling. “Go on.”
“That’s it, darling. I thought you’d want to know. I’m supposed to keep you here drinking until noon, and time is passing, so if either one or both of you would like to get down to your cabins before he musses up all your clothes—”
“And be responsible for your failing on your very first assignment?” Kek sounded shocked. “They’d drum you out of the corps, and you wouldn’t get that raise, either. Besides,” Kek added, “what would Max say if he heard you couldn’t keep the attention of two men for a mere hour? He’d think your attraction was only a flash in the pan, and then what of all your hopes when Rose and I go off with the grandchildren?”
André was looking confused by the entire exchange. Anita was also frowning in surprise at Kek’s attitude. She went on slowly.
“Jamison also said he’s made a complete study of possible hiding places in shipboard cabins — he looks the type — and he’s sure he can do a complete search of each cabin in half an hour. André is scheduled first and then you’re next, from eleven thirty until noon.” She looked at Kek anxiously. “Are you sure neither one of you has anything you don’t want him to find?”
“‘My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure,’” Kek quoted a bit sententiously. “Tennyson.” He winked at Anita and sipped.
“I’m going down and show this character my strength!” André said fiercely.
“There’s a security officer with him,” Anita warned.
“Good! I’m in the mood—”
“Sit down, André,” Kek said, and pushed the other back. He smiled. “Let the boys have their fun. After all, if a man’s profession is searching, he has to take his practice wherever he can find it. Besides, you don’t have anything to hide, do you?” He thought a moment. “Except those shirts you bought yesterday?”
“But—”
“Besides,” Kek went on, “the poor man has been manhandled so often on the case so far, I’m beginning to feel sorry for him. And he’s only been manhandled by amateurs so far. Let the poor soul alone.”
André sank back, confused. Anita looked at Kek ruefully.
“And I thought I was being so clever about the whole thing.”
“You were, sweet, you were. And deserve another drink for your successful efforts. The one thing I hate to see,” Kek admitted sadly, “is a thirsty spy. And, of course, the thirsty victims of a thirsty spy. So why don’t we all have another round of drinks and wait calmly for noon to come around, when we can have lunch? Just in case Mr. Jamison isn’t quite as rapid as he thinks he is?”
He raised an arm for the waiter.
14
With the door to André’s stateroom closed and locked behind them, Jamison and the security officer — whose name was L. James Rafferty — stood and looked about themselves a moment in the gloom; then Jamison walked swiftly to the porthole, throwing back the heavy drapes. The schedule did not permit of daydreaming. Brilliant sunlight streamed in, brightening the already-made-up twin beds, the warmly upholstered furniture, and the colorful pictures on the paneled walls. Jamison nodded, satisfied with the arena, and turned to Rafferty.
“Let’s go!” He might have been a Marine drill sergeant from his tone, but Rafferty was no recruit. The security officer bit back a yawn and looked at Jamison curiously. “You take the dresser and the vanity,” Jamison ordered. “Don’t forget to take out the drawers completely and look behind them. I’ll cover the closets and the bathroom first. Then we’ll look under the chairs and get to the luggage last. We’ll do that together.”