Maiden Voyage

FIFTY-NINE

George Welterman was taken down to the automobile hold by Monty Willowby so that he could inspect Mark Beeney's car. Maurice Peace came along, too, eating a peach, and walked around the gleaming length of it with undisguised admiration, and not a little jealousy.

"You're a swine, winning this," he said. "You're even more of a swine if you're thinking of destroying it. Why don't you give it to a good cause, like the Cincinnati Hospital for the Deaf, or better still, to me?"

George drummed his fingers on the hood. "No, Mr Peace. This is my revenge. I want to take this back to my office in New York, triumphant."

"Well, that's very Roman of you," said Maurice, wiping his juicy mouth with his handkerchief. "Are you sure you don't want me to dance in front of you up Fifth Avenue, throwing garlands of flowers under your wheels?"

Monty Willowby said, "Do you want to see inside, sir? I've got the keys."

George glanced down at his watch. "Just for a moment, then. I have some pressing business to attend to."

Monty Willowby opened up the driver's door and George Welterman peered inside. There was a strong aroma of thick hide, brandy, and some peppery man's cologne. The steering wheel was made of shaped and laminated avodire wood, in light grey, on a sterling silver base. The dashboard was made from highly polished satinwood, which was usually considered so expensive that it was used only for making small boxes and picture frames. Each dial—speedometer, oil pressure gauge, revolution counter, and mileage recorder—was made of raised gold figures on a background of lapis lazuli. The gold and silver gearshift knob alone could have been traded for a large semi-detached house in a good suburb of London.

"Now that's what I call a motorcar," said Maurice. "Are you sure you don't want to give it to the Cincinnati Home for the Deaf?"

But George Welterman was in no mood for jokes. He took out his wallet, gave Monty Willowby a one-pound tip, and then said, "Let's get back upstairs. Maybe I'll come and have another gloat tomorrow."

"Ah, well," said Maurice, touching the silver-plated headlamps with affectionate resignation.

Monty Willowby locked the Marmon up again, and followed along behind, whistling "In A Monastery Garden", but on the way back across the hold, he caught hold of George Welterman's sleeve. "I hope you don't think I'm being presumptuous, Mr. Welterman," he said, "but it you're taking that automobile with you when you leave the ship, I wonder if you could do me a small favour."

George Welterman, without breaking his stride, looked down at Monty and raised one eyebrow.

"I've got a few items which need to be unloaded in New York, you see," said Monty, "and the problem is that they're quite fragile. I wouldn't like them to be manhandled by the longshoremen in New York, and broken. Pieces of antique furniture, if you get my meaning."

"Illicitly exported?" asked George.

"Oh, no, sir. Nothing like that. Just fragile."

George paused and thought. Then he said, "All right. Whatever they are, just wrap them up and leave them in the trunk, or on the back seat. I'll make sure they clear customs without any trouble."

"Well, sir, that's very big of you, sir," said Monty. "If there's any I can do in return...?"

"Oh, just a small matter," said George. "Make sure I'm sitting on I captain's table tonight at dinner, and at every other meal."

"Well, sir, I'm not sure I can—"

George smiled. Monty heard the vipers hissing in his head. "Very well, sir," he said. "The captain's table it is."

When George had gone, Monty locked up the automobile hold and breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had seventeen lavatory seats, each one labelled according to the celebrity who had sat on it, and he was sure that Mr. Fribourg would be satisfied with that. Not only did he have the seats, but he had a means of getting them undetected off the ship, so that there would be no risk of being arrested for petty theft.

Life was beginning to look up. Apart from Mr. Fribourg's seats, the voyage had already yielded a dozen cases of Perrier-Jouet champagne for sale in New York restaurants, eighteen sides of best Scotch beef, fifteen sides of smoked salmon, more pounds of Malossol than he could weigh, plus a whole variety of other sundries, and nearly 850 pounds in gratuities, cash.

He was beginning to feel like an emperor again. All he had to do now was to lean on Sir Peregrine and make sure that George Welterman was invited to the top table tonight.