to reach it from our deck above.
“Ah, you can do that, my dear young fellow,” said David. “I’m taking the elevator up those eight flights.”
By the time we met again in the quiet sunlight of the Queens Grill Lounge, I had plotted every step. We ordered a couple of gin and tonics—a drink that I found fairly tolerable—and went over the entire scheme in final detail.
We’d wait the night in hiding until James decided to retire for the approaching day. If he came early, we would wait until the crucial moment before we moved in upon him, throwing back the lid of his trunk.
David would have the Smith & Wesson leveled upon him as we both attempted to jolt his spirit out of the body, at which point I would rush in. Timing was crucial. He would be feeling the danger of the sunlight, and knowing that he could not possibly remain in the vampiric body; but he must not have sufficient opportunity to harm either of us.
If the first assault failed, and an argument did ensue, we would make plain to him the vulnerability of his position. If he tried to destroy either of us, our inevitable shouts or screams would bring help at once. And any dead body would be left lying in James’s stateroom. Where at the eleventh hour was James to go himself? It was very doubtful he knew how long he could remain conscious as the sun was rising. Indeed, I was sure he had never pushed it to the limit, as I had done many a time.
Surely given his confusion, a second assault upon him would be successful. And then as David held the large revolver on the mortal body of James, I would dart with preternatural swiftness down the corridor of the Signal Deck, down the interior stairway to the deck below, then run the length of it, passing out of the narrow corridor and into a wider one behind the Queens Grill Restaurant, where I would find the top of Stairway A, and then drop eight floors to Five Deck, rush down the corridor, and enter the small inside cabin and bolt the door. The trunk would then be shoved between bed and door, and I would climb inside it, bringing down the lid.
Even if I encountered a horde of sluggish mortals in my path it would take me no more than a few seconds, and almost all of that time I should be safe within the interior of the ship, insulated from the sun’s light.
James—back in this mortal body and no doubt furious—would have no clue as to where I’d gone. Even if he overpowered David, he could not conceivably locate my cabin without an exhaustive search which would be quite beyond his ability to undertake. And David would be rousing security against him, accusing him of all sorts of sordid crimes.
Of course David had no intention of being overpowered. He would keep the powerful Smith & Wesson trained on James until the ship docked in Barbados, at which time he would escort the man to the gangway and invite him to go ashore. David would then take up his watch to see that James did not return. At sunset I would rise from the trunk and meet David, and we would enjoy the night’s voyage to the next port.
David sat back in the pale green armchair, drinking the remainder of his gin and tonic, and obviously pondering the plan.
“You realize of course that I cannot execute the little devil,” he said. “Gun or no gun.”
“Well, you can’t do it on board, that’s for certain,” I said. “The shot would be heard.”
“And what if he realizes it? What if he goes for the weapon?”
“Then he finds himself in the same predicament. Surely he’s smart enough to know that.”
“I’ll shoot him if I have to. That’s the thought he can read from me with all his psychic skill. I will do it if I have to. Then I’ll make the appropriate accusations. He was trying to rob your cabin. I was waiting for you when he came in.”
“Look, suppose we make this switch soon enough before sunrise for me to hurl him over the side.”
“No good. There are officers and passengers everywhere. He’s sure to be seen by someone and it will be ‘Man overboard’ and mayhem all around.”
“Of course I could crush his skull.”
“Then I would have to conceal the body. No, let’s hope the little monster realizes his good luck