Sad Wind From the Sea - Jack Higgins [31]
A sudden flash of irritation surged inside Hagen. Was everyone against him? 'Don't be a bloody fool,' he said. 'The girl won't suffer, I promise you. She'll get a full and equal share. Enough to keep her in luxury for years. When the time comes I'll explain things to her. She'll come round to my way of thinking.'
O'Hara sighed. 'Aye, we'll have to hope that she will. But I can't say I like it at all.'
They mounted the ladder to the deck and as they went towards Rose she made an exclamation of disgust. 'Look at your trousers,' she said to Hagen. He glanced down and saw a large smear of grease where he had been kneeling. 'Why can't you put on some working clothes?'
He grinned amiably and retreated to the main cabin. He changed quickly into a pair of faded blue denims, sweat shirt and rope-soled shoes. The outfit was completed by a battered and salt-stained cap, a relic of his Navy days. When he came out on deck again she clapped her hands and said approvingly: 'That's much better. You look like something out of a Hemingway novel.'
He didn't find time to reply because, with a great roaring that fractured the afternoon stillness in a thousand places, a small motor boat swept into the inlet through the narrow passage that led from the sea. The motors cut suddenly and the boat drifted against the jetty with a gentle bump. Charlie Beale came towards them, a genial smile on his face. 'Hello there!' he called.
Hagen was watching the man who was busy securing the motor boat to the jetty. How can one explain the inexplicable? He wondered. He had liked Rose from the moment he had seen her without knowing anything about her. In that same positive way he disliked the man who followed Charlie along the jetty and jumped down on to the deck of Hurrier. 'Meet Steve Mason, the other member of your crew,' Charlie said, waving a hand. Hagen shook hands briefly and Mason looked at him quizzically, a peculiarly mocking expression in his blue eyes. He was a large man, heavily built, with sun-bleached, fair hair and a red, slightly freckled face.
As Hagen assessed the man, introductions took place automatically all round. Charlie was very impressed with Rose and she seemed to take to him at once. They led the way back up the steps towards the house and Hagen and Mason followed. Half-way up the cliff Mason offered him a cigarette and they stopped to light up. As he flicked the match away Mason said, 'You don't remember me, do you?'
Hagen looked at him in puzzlement and then suddenly something rose to the surface of his consciousness. 'I knew you in the Navy, didn't I?'
Mason nodded. 'Correct! Only a short time - two weeks to be precise. I was an ensign on the Johnson and you were "Exec.". I didn't like you at all, Hagen. The white-haired boy with the medals and all the combat experience with the British. I was Gunnery Officer and during our trials at Pearl you were never off my neck. You told the old man I was incompetent and had me transferred to H.Q. I finished the war in a desk job.'
Hagen forced a smile and began to climb the steps again. 'Then I did you a good turn,' he said. 'You know what happened to the Johnson. There were only eighteen survivors.'
'I notice you managed to be one of them,' Mason said with a sneer.
Hagen tried to keep the conversation on an even keel. 'What made you shoot that M.P. in Tokio?' he said.
Mason laughed bitterly. 'What a bloody mess that was. I had a damn good job when Korea started and they called me back. I was a lieutenant-commander in charge of a supply depot in Japan. I was doing all right for myself on the side, working the black-market and giving contracts to the right people. Unfortunately some nosy bastard found out about my three bank accounts.' He laughed harshly. 'I didn't want to shoot that guy but if I hadn't done