Fenner didn’t say anything. He just stood, his hands hanging loose at his side. Miller looked round the cabin, saw the girl and scrambled over to her.
Fenner moved. His foot shot out and he kicked Miller in the middle of his chest very hard. Miller flopped over. His breath came out of his mouth in a rasping note, but he didn’t take his eyes off the girl. With one hand pressing his chest, he began to crawl towards her again.
Fenner pulled his gun. “Stop it!” he shouted. “Do you hear? Stop it!”
Miller took no notice of him. His hand went out and grabbed the girl’s ankle. Fenner stepped forward and stamped on Miller’s wrist. Miller wouldn’t let go.
Fenner, white-faced and thin-lipped, slid his gun so that he held it by the short barrel. He began to club Miller across his shoulders very hard with the gun. He didn’t want to put Miller right out. He might be wanted to handle the boat, but he had to stop this somehow.
Miller paused, heaved his shoulders, kicked out with his foot. Fenner sucked in his breath and hit him on the top of his head. Miller stiffened, went limp and dropped forward on the girl. He twitched once, as if trying to command his muscles, then his forehead hit the floor with a little thud.
Fenner shoved his gun away and pulled him off the girl. He took him by his arm and dragged him out of the cabin.
Reiger shoved his head over the top of the cockpit. “What the hell’s goin’ on?” he shouted.
Fenner took no notice. He dumped Miller in the scuppers and went back to the cabin. The girl had drawn up her knees to her chin again. Red-tinged bubbles kept breaking at her lips.
Fenner knelt down and put his arm under her head. She stiffened, then reached up and hit him hard with her clenched fist across his face.