iii
Bervick came into Evans’ cabin. It was seven o’clock and Evans was still asleep.
“Hey,” said Bervick, and he shook him.
“What’s the matter?” Evans sat up in bed.
“Nothing’s the matter. Just thought I’d see if you were up.”
“Well, I’m not up.” Evans stretched out again in his bunk. For a moment he lay there quietly, his eyes half shut. He enjoyed the gentle rocking of the ship.
“Get me a cigarette,” he said finally. Bervick felt in his pocket and brought out a crumpled pack. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to Evans.
“Thanks,” grunted Evans. He inhaled the smoke comfortably. Then he began to think. When he awakened in the morning he always knew if something pleasant or unpleasant was supposed to happen to him. Today he felt would be a pleasant day.
“What you got on your mind?” Evans asked.
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“That’s what I thought. What’re you doing up so early?”
“Just messing around, that’s all. I couldn’t sleep.”
“You never do sleep in the morning. You’ve probably got a guilty conscience.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Evans looked at him a little surprised, “well, I don’t know what I mean, do you?”
“How should I?”
“This isn’t making much sense.”
Bervick agreed. Evans looked at him thoughtfully. He had been acting strangely lately, ever since the Chief had disappeared. Evans wondered absently if Bervick might not have had something to do with Duval’s death. He examined the idea with interest. Bervick might have hit him on the head with a hammer and then he might have dropped him overboard. That was not at all unlikely. Evans smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. I was just thinking.”
“What about?”
“I was thinking what a funny thing it would be if you’d knocked the Chief on the head and tossed him overboard.”
“Well, I didn’t,” said Bervick. His voice was even. “Don’t know that I wouldn’t have liked to.”
“It doesn’t make much difference one way or the other,” said Evans, quite sure now that Bervick had killed Duval. “It doesn’t make no difference at all. He was better off out of the way. Guys’ve been knocked off before. Nicer people than the Chief have been knocked off.”
“I thought about doing it a lot, but I didn’t do anything to him. He just lost his balance.”
“You saw it then?”
Bervick nodded slowly. “Yeah, I saw him fall off.”
“Well, don’t tell me any more about it. I don’t want to know.”
“What’re you going to tell the investigating people?”
“That I don’t know nothing about what happened, and that’s what you’re going to tell them, too.”
“You think I should?”
“I sure do.” Evans made smoke-rings. He was surprised at how easily he was able to take all this. He felt certain that Bervick had been responsible for the Chief’s death. He should report what he knew but he would not. He would rather protect Bervick. Duval was dead now and he saw no reason why anyone else should be hurt.
“You know I didn’t push him,” said Bervick. He looked strained, Evans thought.
“O.K., then you didn’t. I don’t care.”
“I just want you to get that clear. I didn’t push him or do anything else. He just lost his balance.”
“I believe you,” said Evans, and he almost did.
“I don’t want to talk about this any more. Is that all right with you?”
“Sure it is. You know what my report’s going to be. Let’s forget about it.”
“Fine.” Bervick looked better already, and Evans wondered if perhaps Bervick was telling the truth. Evans puffed on his cigarette. He was not curious to know what had happened and he would probably never know. It was Bervick’s business, not his.
“Going to see the Major this morning?”
Evans groaned. “I suppose I have to.” He got out of bed and shivered in the cold room. He always slept naked, even in winter. Quickly he dressed himself. Then he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked scrofulous. Evans was not sure what the word meant, but it had been going through his mind for several days and the sound of it was most descriptive. From time to time he would mutter the word to himself. Evans combed his hair and reminded himself again that he would have to get a haircut soon.
“Are you ready?” asked Bervick, who had been watching him impatiently.
“All ready.” Evans put on his cap and they left the cabin and the wheelhouse.
One of the deckhands was out on deck trying to tack another piece of canvas over the hole where one of the forward ventilators had been. As Evans and Bervick went by him, he asked, “Say, Skipper, do you know what happened to the hammer? The one we keep in the lazaret.”
“No, I don’t. It was in there last I heard. You know anything about it, Bervick?”
“I used a hammer to fix the ventilator the other night. I stuck it back in the lazaret.”
“Well, it ain’t there now.”
“You better look again,” said Evans.
“It ain’t there.” The man turned back to his work and Evans and Bervick climbed up on the dock.
Evans chuckled and Bervick said nothing.
They walked past the warehouses and the docks. Bervick was very quiet and Evans did not bother him.
He looked at the sky and saw that the gray clouds were beginning to thin. Perhaps they would have a good day, one of those days when the sky was blue and the sun shone clearly. He watched the sea gulls dart and glide in the windless air.
Evans wondered what the Major would have to say about the investigation. He hoped there would not be too many questions. He was afraid Bervick would say the wrong thing.
A truck stopped for them and they got into the back.
“I don’t think Barkison’s going to be too much bother,” said Evans. “I think he’ll help us out.”
“I hope so. Not that we’ve got anything to hide from him, much.”
“Sure, that’s right. We haven’t got anything to hide.”
The truck stopped at the Headquarters and they jumped out.
They entered a large well-lighted room, full of clerks and typewriters and file cases and all the necessary impedimenta of waging war.
Evans asked an effeminate-looking Corporal where he might find the Adjutant’s office.
“Right down the hall, sir. First door on the left, sir.” The man emphasized the “sir” in an irritating manner.
Evans and Bervick walked down the corridor. The anteroom to the Adjutant’s office was smaller than the room they had just left. Several clerks and several Lieutenants had desks here. On the walls were charts of as many things as it was possible to chart or graph.
Evans noticed that one of the empty desks had the sign “Lt Hodges” on it.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked a clerk.
“Yes, I’d like to see Major Barkison.”
“You mean Colonel Barkison.”
“When was he promoted?”
“Well, he got it yesterday. You’re the Master of the boat he was on, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“I think he’s expecting you. Wait here please.” The man went into the adjoining office and came out a moment later. “Colonel Barkison is busy right now. He’ll see you in a few minutes. Why don’t you sit down?”
“O.K.” Evans sat in Hodges’ chair and Bervick sat on the desk.
“Quite an office Barkison’s got here,” commented Bervick.
“Yeah, I’d go crazy in a job like this, though. He sits on his butt all day long.”
“I’d sure like to make the money he makes.”
“You could make more fishing.”
“Could be.” They waited for fifteen minutes. Then Lt Hodges came out of Barkison’s office.
“How are you?” he greeted them. “You can go in now.”
“Thanks.”
Lt Colonel Barkison was sitting behind his desk, his mouth firm and his jaw set as he shuffled some papers. He looked up as they came in. Evans and Bervick did not salute and Evans was not quite sure whether Barkison was disappointed or not.
“Good morning, Evans, Bervick. How’s your boat today?”
“Just fine, Colonel.”
“Good.” Barkison did not invite them to sit down and that irritated Evans.
“About this investigation....” Barkison began. He paused and seemed to be thinking. Then he said, “I’ve been appointed Investigating Officer.”
“Is that right, sir? I thought they would hold the investigation at Andrefski.”
“Normally they would, but you’re not going back there. We just got word from Andrefski that you’re to proceed straight to Seward for repairs.” Barkison smiled. “Maybe you’ll even get to Seattle.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard,” said Evans, delighted. Bervick agreed with him.
“So,” Barkison frowned, “I’ve been made Investigating Officer.” He paused again, then he confided, “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’ll take statements from you two and some others who might have seen Duval. We’ll do all that tomorrow. From what I’ve already gathered I feel that nothing new will turn up. So I can tell you now that I’m going to report plain accident in line of duty.”
“I’m glad it’ll be as simple as that,” said Evans, not knowing what else to say.
“I feel you’ve had enough trouble without an unpleasant investigation,” said Barkison and Evans noticed that he was careful not to look at Bervick.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. I’m quite appreciative of what you, ah, did. I’m not quite sure in my mind, however, that it was a wise thing to do, to take a ship out in such bad weather.”
Evans was surprised and a little angry. “What do you mean, Major, I mean Colonel?”
“Nothing at all, except that some might say, now mind you I don’t, but some might say you showed bad judgment.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. You insisted on the trip. I said that we were taking a chance, that was all.” Evans tried to keep the anger out of his voice.
“I quite understand, Mr Evans,” said Barkison coldly, beginning to shuffle his papers again. “I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” Bervick saluted and Evans did not as they left Barkison’s office.
“Well,” said Bervick when they were outside the Adjutant’s office, “there goes that medal of yours.”
“I’d like to knock that little bastard’s head in,” said Evans with feeling. “Did you hear him say I showed bad judgment?”
“Well, he had to pass the buck; I mean, it would look bad if people heard he insisted on taking this trip in such bad weather. He just wants to cover himself.”
“That man sure changed from what he was on the boat.”
“He’s just acting natural.”
Hodges came into the outer office as they were about to leave.
“What’s new?” he asked.
“Not a thing,” said Evans.
“How long you going to be around?”
“A few more days, maybe. Were going to Seward.”
“So I heard. That’s a good deal.”
“I’ll say.”
“Well, I’ll be seeing you around,” said Hodges. He looked at Bervick a moment and he seemed about to say something. Then he decided not to. “See you,” he said.
They said goodbye and went outside.
“What’s the matter with Junior?” asked Evans. “He looked at you sort of queerly.”
“He’s got too much imagination, I guess.”
“Is that it?”
“That’s it.” Bervick smiled.
The sky was blue and clear now and the sun shone on the white mountains. They walked back to the ship.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.