The tale of the body thief - By Anne Rice Page 0,199
old me—hastily and grimly through the Queens Grill itself and towards the front of the ship. And oh, to see him struggling to preserve his dignity, talking at them rapidly and almost cheerfully, as if he were a gentleman of great wealth and influence, caught up in some sordid annoying little affair.”
“I can imagine it.”
“But what is his game, I thought. I didn’t realize of course that he was thinking of the future, how to take refuge from you. All I could think was, What is he up to now? Then it occurred to me that he would send them to search for me. He’d blame me for the entire incident, of course.
“At once, I checked my pockets. I had the passport of Sheridan Blackwood, the money you’d left to help him get clear of the boat, and the key to your old cabin upstairs. I was trying to think what I should do. If I went to that cabin they would come to look for me. He didn’t know the name on the passport. But the cabin stewards would put it all together, of course.
“I was still utterly confused when I heard his name coming over the loudspeakers. A quiet voice was asking for Mr. Raglan James to report to any available officer of the ship at once. So he had implicated me, believing me to have that passport which he gave to you. And it would only be a matter of time before the name Sheridan Blackwood was connected to it. He was probably giving them a physical description of me now.
“I didn’t dare go down to Five Deck to try to see if you’d made your hiding place safely. I might be leading them there if I tried. There was only one thing I could do, as I saw it, and that was to hide somewhere until I knew that he was off the ship.
“It seemed entirely logical to me that he’d be taken into custody in Barbados on account of the firearm. And then he probably didn’t know what name was on his passport, and they would have a look at it before he could pull it out.
“I went down to the Lido Deck, where the great majority of the passengers were having breakfast, got myself a cup of coffee, and crept into a corner, but within minutes I knew this wasn’t going to work. Two officers appeared and were obviously looking for someone. I barely escaped notice. I started talking to two kindly women next to me, and more or less slipped into their little group.
“Within seconds after these officers moved on, but another announcement came over the public address system. This time they had the name right. Would Mr. Sheridan Blackwood report to any officer of the ship at once? And another dreadful possibility occurred to me! I was in the body of this London mechanic who’d murdered his entire family and escaped from a madhouse. The fingerprints of this body were probably on file. James wasn’t past making that known to the authorities. And here we were docking now in British Barbados! Not even the Talamasca could get this body out of custody if I were taken. Much as I feared to leave you, I had to try to get off the ship.”
“You should have known I’d be all right. But why didn’t they stop you at the gangway?”
“Ah, they almost did, but it was sheer confusion. Bridgetown harbour is quite large, and we were properly docked at the pier. No need for the little launch. And it had taken so long for the customs officials to clear the ship for disembarkation that there were hundreds waiting in the aisles of the lower deck to go ashore.
“The officers were checking boarding passes as best they could, but I managed again to slip in with a little group of English ladies, and I began talking quite loudly to them about the sights of Barbados and the lovely weather, and I managed to get through.
“I walked right down and onto the concrete wharf and towards the customs building. My next fear was that they would check my passport in that building before I’d be allowed through.
“And of course you have to remember, I’d been in this body for less than an hour! Every step felt completely strange to me. Over and over I looked down and saw these hands, and there came the shock—Who am I? I would look into people’s faces, as if peering