“There’s been someone asking for you.” “He waited for you, but before he left, I told him that you usually spent time at the Taj Mahal Hotel during the afternoon, stopping for a drink and sometimes a meal. He said he would wait there tomorrow for you.”

The meeting with the correspondent in Algiers surfaced in my mind, which disturbed me.

 

The Taj Mahal Hotel was plush to the extreme

There were very few people in the lounge area, and I had no difficulty in finding a large comfortable chair.

 

 “Will Bonner?” The voice came from behind. Finding it awkward to turn in the soft cushions, I stood up and pivoted around in the direction of the voice.

 

Confronting me was a man impeccably dressed in a light khaki safari jacket, matching long trousers, and highly polished brown shoes. His tanned complexion was clear, but slightly wrinkled around the eyes and forehead, putting his age around 50 years.

 

“Yes, I’m WiII Bonner,” moving forward, extending my hand to greet him.

“I say old chap, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting?”

“No need for apologies, I have no other arrangements.”

“That’s good, let’s have a bite to eat and we can talk.

“You have the advantage,” I prompted. “I don’t know your name.”

“Just call me Blyth old chap, if you would.”

“I haven’t met you before, but you appear to know me.”

“I most certainly do, that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted by the waiter, and I took advantage of the break to get my mind organized.

“I don’t wish to appear rude, but I would prefer you to get to the point of your visit.”

 

“I am part of the intelligence organization that arranged for the delivery of the package in Aden.”

 I waited for more cajoling and possible threats, but they did not materialize. He continued. “We were very impressed by the way you handled the task. It didn’t go quite as planned, did it?”

 

“There was some trouble, if that’s what you mean.” I didn’t elaborate further and say things that I would regret.

“A man was shot and killed,” Blyth whispered, not wanting that part of the conversation to be overheard

“I was questioned about the shooting.”

“Yes, but you gave the right answers.”

“The police wilI be investigating, won’t they?” accepting by now that Blyth knew all about the incident.

“No, the man killed was a German agent, an absolute idiot trying to take advantage of the curfew to get information. It’s all over, and the package is doing its job. You took the right action under pressure.”

“Would you believe I was only trying to survive?”

 

“Survival is the name of the game," that’s why we are impressed.

 

Blyth broke the silence and in a loud whisper. “Look here old chap, I'll come straight to the point. Would you like to be part of our particular section of British Intelligence?”

 

My mind struggled to formulate an appropriate answer, and its effect must have been visible on my face.

“Tell me more about the organization.”

“That’s not my job, but you must decide now, for things to proceed. In any case you’ve already been initiated and must have a fair idea of what’s involved.”

 

“I’ll see you here tomorrow and give you my decision then.”

“No, it must be now

 “In that case my answer wiI have to be no.”

 

Blyth showed no reaction. “You surely appreciate that things have not changed, and you will be called upon from time to time.”

“There’s not much I can do to avoid that,” I countered, and expecting the inevitable. “I suppose you have something for me now.”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

I was slowly getting used to the trend of events. After the Aden incident, I would nevertheless try to keep out of trouble. I was beginning to learn.

 

They both relaxed and Blyth began to outline the requirements. He lowered his voice and I moved closer to catch every word. “We have an agent in Bombay who is a Hindu and he has a shoe and carpet shop quite close to here, near Crawford market. “He has been suspected of being a double agent, and recently we have proved that is the case. People are getting killed and he has to be stopped.”

 

I had no need to even think about what Blyth had just said.

“There’s no way I can possibly help you.”

“Yes, you can, and your part would be simple.”

“That’s what your man in Algiers said, and look what happened in Aden!”

“It’s quite straightforward.”

“Yes, he said that too!”

 

Blyth carried on. “It is illegal to own or sell weapons and have knives over 6 inches long. It is punishable by death in some cases, and we are certain that he uses his shop as a front to sell ritual daggers, scimitars and weapons of all kinds, but we can’t find out where he keeps them. Once we do, we can have him put away, but we are certain that they won’t be at the shop.”

 

“How will you know where the cache is if I won’t see you again?”

“Someone will keep tabs on you.” He stopped and took a deep breath.

 “Do you have any queries?”

“No, I’ll go tomorrow afternoon, that will give another three days for them to contact me before the ship sails.”

 

Blyth extended his hand. “I’d better be off; I’ve been here too long as it is. Best of luck.” Within seconds he had disappeared through the door.

 

I suddenly felt very lonely. I was now completely on my own, with no one to turn to for advice or assistance, travelling down a one-way street with no turning back. Everything sounded easy, as before, but I knew that it could backfire at any time, once things got started.

 

I eventually found himself at the entrance to the Crawford market I knew that it would not be situated inside the market, so I would have to concentrate on the streets in the near vicinity.

 

I had no need for concern and within the hour caught sight of the shop, which was centered in the more prestigious part of the area.

 

Approaching the shop from the other side of the street I stopped momentarily, looking around for signs of Blyth’s surveillance man, but it was impossible because of the crowded street. Picking my way across to the open entrance door, I went inside.

 

I became suddenly aware of the expanse. The room was huge, some 100 feet or more long, by at least 50 feet wide, which contrasted sharply with the congested frontages along the street.

 

In the far-right corner from where he was standing, was a small enclosed office type room, with windows on two sides looking out into the shop. Inside the office he could see two men.

 

“Good afternoon, Sahib.” The Hindu bowed slightly and gestured me towards an easy chair on the side of the room. He was dressed in a clean white gown, reaching down to his calves, and on his head a deep red fez with matching tassel.

 

“How can I help you, Sahib?”

“I would like to see some good quality sandals, with solid heels and soles.”

“Yes Sahib, would you like some tea while you are waiting?”

“No thank you, I’ve just had lunch.”

 

The Hindu nodding his head, retired to get the sandals and I settled back in an easy chair.

 

Lots of sandals were brought and displayed on the floor in front of me for my selection, and talk centered around the pros and cons of the various designs.

 

The price was agreed and I was reaching for my wallet and thinking to himself “I’m going to blow it” when my chance came right out of the blue.

“Is there anything else, Sahib?”

“As a matter of fact, there is something you may be able to help me with.”

“Yes, Sahib.”

“A friend of mine bought a ceremonial dagger in Bombay about a year ago. Would you know where I could get one to use as an ornamental letter opener?”

 “I’m prepared to pay quite a lot of money for it, just a small one.”

“I’m sorry Sahib I can’t help you, but I’ll make some enquiries.” I turned in my chair to follow his progress to the back of the shop.

 

The two men from the office had moved into the carpet section. Animated discussion took place, all three men staring intently in my direction.

The salesman quickly ran across and disappeared through one of the side doors, and when it reopened, I was confronted with something he had not bargained for.

 

The man who entered was big and stocky, wearing a turban, and belted shirt over my ballooned trousers. Sporting a bushy black beard and long curved moustache, he could have just stepped out of a Hollywood movie. But to me, as he strode across to the others, he represented a fearful shift of the circumstances.

 

What was to happen next? I didn’t have to wait long to find out, as one of the men dressed in European clothes, walked down the room towards me. As he drew closer it became evident that he was not Hindu but Goanese.

 

“You wanted to see some daggers?”

“Yes, I was looking for a small ceremonial dagger to use as a letter opener. Do you know anyone that can sell me one?”

“Perhaps. Are you from the convoy?”

“Yes, my ship is berthed at Victoria dock, but I only have three days before we sail. My name is WilI Bonner.” extending my hand.

“I can arrange for someone to bring one or two for you to look at.”

 I felt the tension rising again.

“I am prepared to pay a lot of money for the right one, but I must see a collection to be able to choose, otherwise I am not interested.”

The Goanese hesitated before answering. Everything was going as Blyth had outlined, but this is where it could fall apart. He had done as he was asked and could do no more.

 

“Wait here.” and returning to the others they once again engaged in animated conversation, and the visual interchange started all over again, giving me the feeling of a criminal in a police line-up.

 

The Goanese appeared at my side. “One of my boys will follow you back to the ship, and we will get back to you tomorrow. Bring enough cash, you may need a thousand rupees,” he said. After a short interchange with one of the boys who I had seen before entering the shop, the Goanese disappeared back inside.

 

During the walk back, I had time to think about what had transpired. Away from the tense atmosphere of the shop I could analyze things more rationally, finally realizing that only two factors had any significance.

 

First, the appearance on the scene of the big Hindu, and second, the mere fact that he was in the process of deceiving them, and, he knew that he had to keep a strong curb on his nerves.

 

The following morning, I sat on deck, my mates were either sleeping in, or had already gone ashore. I felt as though I was in a dentist’s waiting-room, but the ache was in my head, not my mouth!

They may not come. What’s likely to happen when I went back to the shop? Would I be taken somewhere?

 

Sitting on the deck I was approached by one of the Goanese cabin stewards, still dressed in his work uniform. He was obviously still on duty. I knew him by sight.

“WilI Bonner?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been asked to tell you to go to the shop now.”

“I understand.” I tried not to show my surprise, but I was completely astounded. Another dimension had been added.

 

The shop front was the same, and the boy who had followed him back to the ship made no sign of recognition as he approached. I had seen no one that would fit the description of Blyth’s accomplice engaged to have me under surveillance.

 

 The Goanese from yesterday’s encounter approached me, ushering me quickly out of sight into the small office in the corner.

The room was bigger than I had first thought, and contained the usual office necessities, a small desk, two chairs, with a filing cabinet

pushed into one corner. The Goanese pointed to a chair and I sat down,

there was just the two of them in the office.

 

“Have you brought the money?”

“Yes, I have brought enough but I only pay what the goods are worth. You can’t ask me for a thousand rupees for something only worth five hundred.”

 

The Goanese smiled. “I understand.” Even though the immediate future was unknown to me, I felt more relaxed and in control of my feelings as the connection between the two men had now taken on a trading atmosphere.

Moving quickly behind the desk he extracted a small panel at floor level, beckoning me to go through. Getting down on my hands and knees I proceeded to crawl through the small opening, followed by the Goanese, who replaced the panel back into position behind him.

 

I rose to my feet in the dim light as a scurrying sound, only feet away on the dirt floor made me jump, and something ran under the steep, narrow, open tread stairway in front of me. I shuddered. Rats, and big ones, but he was mistaken. It was a small mongoose, probably kept around to keep the snakes away.

 

I grabbed the cascading rope as I negotiated the steep steps behind the Goanese, arriving eventually on a tiny landing, barely sufficient to accommodate the two men.

 

The Goanese was knocking on a heavy steel-clad door. The door opened slowly due to its weight, and the Goanese entered, leaving me some room to step into the room. When I eventually looked up as the door closed behind me, the sight I was confronted with was awe-inspiring!

 

The room resembled an ancient armory, with swords, cutlasses and rifles hanging on the walls, pistols, daggers, etc. on shelves and small tables. The big bearded Hindu was standing in the middle of the room, accompanied by his twin brother, who was just as big and ferocious looking.

 

Blyth’s words sprang immediately to mind. “There is an agent who is Hindu, the weapons are definitely not at the shop.” Wrong on two counts. The two Hindu’s were muscle men, it was written all over them, and the Goanese was in charge, obviously the agent. How clever to have the weapons concealed, close to hand, and under control.

 

How would Blyth know the weapons were located here? My surveillance may now conclude that because I had not been taken to another location the weapons were here  at the shop

 

I pulled himself together and commenced to enthuse. There was no need for acting now, the various pieces were superb. The Goanese spoke to the others in Hindu and then turned to me. “You know what the penalty is for keeping these weapons?”

“Yes, I do, but my friend didn’t say anything and I won't either. Next time, when I’m in Bombay, I may want to buy one of those scimitars or Khyber Pass rifles.”

“We only bring selected people here. You are known on the ship, and our friend recognized you yesterday, so we consider it safe.”

 

I looked at him and felt a twinge of regret, knowing at best that he would probably find himself in jail, but Blyth had indicated that the Goanese was a calculating and dangerous man, without any scruples, instrumental in the deaths of quite a few people. My attitude hardened again, I had achieved what I had come for, and had no difficulty selecting one of the many ceremonial daggers on display.

 

The haggling over the price was far shorter than usual, and five hundred and fifty rupees was agreed.

 

My purchase was wrapped and placed in a cardboard shoe box, and as I moved towards the door, one of the Hindu’s stepped into my path. My blood pressure started to rise as the Hindu spoke to the Goanese who replied, and the Hindu then stepped aside.

“What was that all about?”

“He told me to remind you what would happen if you told anybody.” I nodded, and now confirmed in my mind that the two Hindu’s were indeed muscle men, and the Goanese the agent.

 

It took no time at all to get back into the street and I felt thankful that I still had life and limb.

In retrospect, my Bombay adventure had been mild in comparison to Aden, but the Aden incident had a finality about it that was absent here. There were loose ends that I had no control over.

 

Every day that the ship moved further away from India, I was feeling more relaxed. They were heading into the dreaded Cape rollers, which were relentless lines of waves, travelling West to East around the Cape of Good Hope South Africa.

 

The constant jarring of the ship had given me a violent headache, so I made my way up to the dispensary for tablets, to try to get some relief.

 

Having to wait for attention I sat down with the others, and glancing around the room caught sight of the cabin steward who had brought me the message in Bombay, and instantly their eyes met.

 

He was standing with two other Goanese. One, a big man with a fat stomach, the other, a weedy looking individual. The two resembled a Goanese replica of “Laurel and Hardy”

I nodded in acknowledgment and the cabin steward engaged the other in conversation, provoking them to look in my direction.

I smiled, but the reaction I got was decidedly hostile, and the Laurel and Hardy couple hastily left the room, leaving the cabin steward alone, but he was purposely avoiding my presence.

 

After obtaining pills for my headache I promptly left the dispensary, making my way along the passageway , and turned the corner to go

 towards my cabin. I was gauging the ship’s rise and fall, to keep my balance, when a few yards ahead, one of the locker doors opened, and Laurel and Hardy stepped into the passageway.

 

The fat man was carrying a large kitchen knife, and the size of his body was practically eliminating the little man from view. Backing away towards the bend in the corridor, I glanced down the connecting corridor only to see the cabin steward bearing down on me from the other direction, forcing me into the corner.

 

Lunging forward, the fat man grabbed the front of my shirt, and bringing up the knife, held it against my throat I could feel the blade against my Adam's apple. “I’m going to kill you,” he shouted in a screeching voice, “you had my brother put away in jail!”

 

I had no time to think, but aware that the other two were not armed and seemed to be just standing by.

 

I stared directly into the fat man’s eyes, only inches away, which were blinking rapidly, and at that moment something inexplicable happened. My fear fell away, and I heard myself calling out. “Do it then, do it, do it!” in ever increasing volume.

 

A puzzled look came over the fat man’s face, and without concern for the consequences, I brought my foot back and kicked him in the shin.

Reeling backwards to the other side of the corridor, the fat man’s elbow struck the hand rail, and the knife fell, clattering along the polished linoleum floor.

 

I was now getting angry. Here was someone else trying to do me harm, and I’d had enough. Before fat man could recover, I punched him as hard as I could in his stomach, He cried out in pain and fell to the floor gasping for breath.

 

 The little man ran away, and the cabin steward was on one knee reaching to pick up the knife. I stepped on the fat man on my way over to prevent the cabin steward from reaching it.

 

“What’s going on Will” It was Blondie Bishop, and with him one of the medical officers. They were both out of breath from running down the corridor, having heard the noise from the dispensary.

“Nothing, everything’s under control.”

 

The officer spoke. “Go to your cabin Bonner,” he ordered, and as I left the scene, I could hear the fat man groaning.

 

Within the hour I found himself on the bridge, in front of the second officer, Peter Bowles. “You’ve been in trouble again Bonner,” he commented, “but at least you don’t appear injured this time. Have you an explanation?”

 

“Yes, Mr Bowles, but first I would like to say that I will never forget what you did for me in Aden and for that reason I would never embarrass you, let you down, or lie to you. What happened tonight was a matter of self-defense. I had no choice.”

“There was a knife involved, was that yours?”

“No Sir.”

 

Peter Bowles looked down at his desk, at the notes he had written down, and I waited for him to continue. “Look Bonner, there were witnesses so a report wilI have to be entered, but there is no point in disciplinary measures. Just try and keep out of trouble!”

“Believe me sir, that is what I intend to do.”

 

Blondie Bishop was waiting for me, eager for information. “How did you get on?”

“Okay I guess, I didn’t get disciplined, just a mention in the report. Blondie was waiting for more. “It was just a case of defending myself.”

 

“They sure are an odd trio.”

“They are never with the others, and you were fighting outside the fat man’s linen locker. Every night between the 8 to 12 p.m. watch, they play cards there.

” Thanks Blondie, I was thinking, that’s a prime piece of information!

 

My most predominant thought was the constant fear of being ambushed again during the remainder of the voyage.

 

There was no one I could ask for help, but supported by the information from Blondie, I would have to take some positive action soon. I decided that I would go to the locker the following evening and try to eliminate the problem.

 

The intervening time was an example of what the remainder of the voyage would be like. Constantly on the defensive, always in the presence of others, never walking the deck at night, and much more. A virtual prisoner for the next three to four weeks, until my ship docked in England.

 

I sat in my cabin waiting for the appropriate time.

Taking my kitbag from the locker I removed a derringer pistol with an ivory handle, given to me, as a memento. I had only fired it once before, just to see how it performed. Refilling the bag and stowing it away, I made my way up to the fat man’s locker.

 

It was about 10 p.m. and there was no activity in the corridors. Removing the pistol from my pocket, I burst through the locker-room door, and as Blondie had described, all three were playing cards around a small collapsible table

 

Putting an arm lock on the weedy man from behind, I pointed the pistol at the fat man and pulled back the hammer.

“You tried to kill me yesterday,” I shouted, “now you’re going to pay for it!”

All three went into a state of panic, the fat man’s eyes were bulging, and he was shaking my head from side to side. The little man was pleading for mercy, and I knew that I had nothing to fear from him. Keeping the gun pointing at the fat man and dragging the weedy man to the door, I released the arm lock from around his neck. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he cried, disappearing through the door.

 

I moved closer to the remaining two, their heads were pressed against the linen stacked on the shelves, trying to get as far away as possible.

“I’ve written a letter to the Provost Marshall in Bombay, telling him all about you two,” I lied. “If anything happens to me, you’ll be put away when you get back to Bombay, and you wilI never get to see Goa again. I’ve explained in the letter how you are connected, and had it put in the purser’s safe until the ship docks in England. If I'm still in one piece when I go ashore in England, I'll destroy it”

 

The cabin steward started to whimper. “Please don’t do anything, you’ll get no more trouble from me.” I motioned toward the door with my pistol, within seconds he was gone. I moved even closer to the fat man, who was more terrified now that he was facing the threat on his own. With the others gone, I knew that I had to wind things up quickly and get out of there.

 

“I had nothing to do with what has happened to your brother,” I lied again. “He was doing bad things back there in Bombay, and the police have eventually caught up with him. You are the lucky one!”

The fat man apologized. “I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake. I promise nothing will I happen.”

 

I released the hammer of the pistol making a clicking sound as it passed over the ratchets. The fat man slumped down over the table, probably relieved that he was still alive.

 

If only he knew! I carried no bullets for the derringer, but it was a menacing weapon for its size. Putting the pistol back in my trouser pocket, I quickly left the locker-room. The corridor was still deserted, and I felt myself shivering as I walked briskly back to my cabin.

 

There were no other incidents for the remainder of the voyage, but my day to day was still contaminated with the possibility that things could still go wrong.

 

Walking ashore in England I put into motion the transfer to another ship that would take me to the opposite side of the world from India.