Kells squatted beside the little man, looked back at the Joanna. Her after third was an up-and-down pillar of flame.
“Looks like a fire to me,” he said. He looked down at the white, drawn face. “You’ve been playing with matches.”
The little man smiled.
“It’s a fire, sure enough.” The red-faced man touched the-throttle. Then he added: “There ain’t much of a crowd. They’ll all have a lifeboat apiece.” He chuckled to himself. “You’re pretty wet — where do you want to go?”
Kells said: “Eaglet.” He put on his pants.
Fay sat in a big chair behind a desk. He was a very big, powerfully muscled man with straight black hair, a straight nose, empty ice-gray eyes.
There was a woman. She sat on one side of the desk with a large glass in her hand. She was very drunk — but in a masculine way.
Kells stood across from Fay. His expression was not pleasant. He said: “What’s it all about? Were you trying to get me killed?”
Fay said: “Why not?”
The woman giggled softly.