Working fast, I stripped him, took off my clothes and put on his.
His peaked yachting-cap was a little big for me, but it hid my face.
I gagged him, rolled him in a sheet and tied the sheet with his belt and a length of cord I found in a cabin. Then I hauled him on to the bunk, left the Sten gun beside him, shoved my .38 down the front of my pants and went to the door.
I listened, heard nothing, opened the door a crack and peered out. The corridor was as empty as a dead man’s mind, and as quiet. I turned off the light, slid out of the cabin and locked the door after me.
I looked at my watch. It was twenty-five minutes past eight. I had only thirty-five minutes before Kerman showed up.
Chapter VI
I
I stood in the shadow of a ventilator and looked along the boat-deck. Overhead a cream and red awning flapped in the stiff breeze. The whole length of the deck was covered with a heavy red pile carpet, and green and red lights make a string of glittering beads along the rail.
Beyond the bridge-deck I could see two immaculately dressed sailors standing under arc lights at the head of the gangway. A girl in evening-dress and two men in tuxedos had just come aboard. The sailors saluted them as they crossed the deck to disappear into the brilliantly-lit restaurant, built between the bridge and the fore-decks. Through the big, oblong-shaped windows I could see couples dancing to the strains of muted saxophones and the throb of drums.
Above me on the bridge-deck three white-clad figures hung over the rail, watching the steady flow of arrivals. It was dark up there, but I saw one of them was smoking.