Where Southern Cross the Dog (36 page)

“Or, I'd see a lot of people who looked just like him. What about going to the captain and see what information we can obtain on passengers?”

“I thought about that, but Higson's not registered under his name. And if the captain wasn't discreet, and the professor found out someone was looking for him or he saw me, he might get spooked. Let's keep looking together until we find him.”

“And if we don't?” Hannah said.

“Well, then, we'll have a nice trip downriver. You want something to drink?”

“Please.”

Travis got up from the table and returned with two glasses of tea. “Don't you think Higson needs to be caught?” Travis asked. “He's not a very upstanding citizen.”

“Sure I do, but not by me. I only came along so you don't get into trouble.”

“You don't have to worry about me. I can help you get off the ship right now, if you want.” Travis smiled at her, and she smiled back. He didn't want her to leave.

“Really, what are you going to do when you find Higson?” Hannah asked.

“Notify the captain that he has a fugitive on board and have him contact the authorities. We just have to make sure Higson's on board.”

“And when the captain asks who you are and how you got on the ship?”

“I'm hoping he forgets about that when he realizes Higson's a fugitive.”

“Glad to hear you're leaving the actual arrest to the authorities, but being a stowaway still has its consequences.”

“Just leave all that to me.”

Hannah shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. I hope you're right.”

Travis finished his tea, then picked up their plates and placed them in a sink that was already stacked with dirty dishes. “Are you ready to go?”

“I guess,” Hannah said. “I can't just stay in the kitchen?” She stood up and ran her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing the wrinkles. “How do I look?”

“Like the ship's best employee.”

“That's what I was afraid of.”

They left the kitchen and walked out into one of the dining areas. It was filled with people lingering over their sumptuous evening meal. The weather had eliminated walking around the deck as an option, leaving nowhere to go except boisterous game rooms, a quiet parlor, or one's own cabin or berth.

“Why don't we split up?” Travis suggested. “I'll meet you back here in half an hour.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Well, since you don't know what he looks like, just get a feel for the layout of the different rooms. It might come in handy later.”

Travis watched Hannah walk away. She hadn't taken ten steps when someone at a table handed her a water pitcher and asked her to fill it.

She passed Travis on her way back to the kitchen. “I'll never get out of this room.”

Travis wondered whether the uniform had been a bad idea.

He left the main dining room and began to circulate through the other rooms looking busy and occasionally delivering a cocktail or a cigar to a passenger who requested it. Card games seemed to be particularly popular tonight, and all the game rooms were brimming with active and prospective players. The parlors were also filled to capacity with people enjoying the trip, but Higson was nowhere to be found. He'd be better off staying out of sight, and Travis figured he knew that.

Twenty minutes later, Travis returned to the room where he had left Hannah and motioned her back to the kitchen.

“Did you see him?” she said.

“No. Did you ever get out of the dining room?”

“Once, but not for long. I had to go right back to the kitchen to get something else.” She tugged at her dress. “And this uniform is uncomfortable.”

“I know, I know, but let's try this.” Travis looked around the kitchen and found a piece of paper and a pencil. “You walk the tables,” he scribbled something on the paper, “and say that you have a message for Dr. Conrad Higson. He probably won't respond immediately, and maybe not at all. But if he's out there, it'll get his attention. Hopefully, he'll be curious enough to ask about the message.”

“Aren't you afraid this'll tip him off?”

“Maybe, but we need to find him soon. If we can't find him now, we can always get off the ship first and try to spot him when he leaves.”

“What are you going to do while I'm table-hopping?”

“I'll follow you to each room and keep an eye on the tables you visit. It's so crowded, it won't be hard for me to be inconspicuous.”

Travis folded the paper and handed it to her. She walked out of the kitchen, and he followed her a few moments later.

Hannah moved methodically through the main dining room, making her announcement at each table. “Excuse me,” she said after
being acknowledged by someone at the table. “I have an urgent message for Dr. Conrad Higson. Is he here?” Again and again the diners shook their heads, indicating that no one by that name was at the table.

After making the rounds in both dining rooms, she did the same at each of the tables in the game rooms and parlors.

An hour later, Travis was convinced that Higson was keeping himself hidden in his room. Hannah headed back to the kitchen, Travis trailing behind her.

“You didn't see him, did you?” she asked when they were alone.

“No. I thought for sure he'd be having dinner or walking off his meal. Playing cards. Something.”

“What do you want to do now?”

“I don't know.”

“We should go to the captain.”

“No, not yet.”

“Then when?”

Travis looked at her. He wasn't surprised at her temper; he just didn't know what to say. “I'm getting something to drink. Do you want something?”

“No.”

Hannah pushed through the door and returned to the dining room. At last, all the diners had finished, and the room was empty except for a few waiters who were clearing tables. She sat down in a corner and realized at that moment how tired she was. Her legs ached from her struggle onto the boat and from walking table to table in shoes that didn't fit well. She was overwhelmed with a desire to lie down. Her eyes were half shut when someone spoke into her ear.

“Do you have a message for Dr. Higson?”

Startled, she leaped up and bumped into the table before her, upsetting two half-full glasses of water. “Yes. I mean, no. I did,
but not anymore.” She fumbled for words while trying to right the glasses and clean up the spilled water.

“I'm a member of the staff,” the man said, “and I want to make sure this message was delivered. Where is it?”

By now Hannah had regained her composure. “I gave it back to one of the ship's stewards. I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find Dr. Higson.” She quickly sized up the man before her. He was in his fifties, she guessed from his thin, graying hair and nondescript features. His clothes were strange, his dark suit unlike the attire any other employee wore.

“Would you like to assist me in searching for Dr. Higson?”

“I'm sorry, sir, I can't.” Her manner was fully deferential now. “I have to help clean up the dining room, and then go to bed. We're up early tomorrow to prepare for breakfast.”

He looked over toward the kitchen. A voice could be heard above the rattling of dishes and glassware.

It was Travis, Hannah thought, feeling a little safer.

The man started to fidget. “Well, if you find the note, please let me know.” He turned abruptly and walked away.

“Where can I find you?” Hannah called, but he didn't answer. By the time Travis emerged from the kitchen a moment later, the man had turned a corner and was gone.

“Travis, someone just came up and asked me about the note.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. He said he was an employee, but I don't think he was.”

“Was it Higson?”

“I don't know.”

“Where'd he go?”

“Over there.” Hannah pointed toward the exit he had taken.

Travis rushed to look down the hallway, but no one was there. He walked back to Hannah.

“Do you think it was Higson? What else did he say?”

“I don't know who it was, Travis.” She was trembling slightly. “He just said that he wanted to make sure the message was delivered. I told him that I gave it back to one of the stewards. Then he asked if I wanted to help him find Higson.”

“What did he look like?”

“Fifties, gray hair. He was wearing a suit, not a uniform, unusual for a ship's employee.”

“Well, so much for being inconspicuous. Even if it was someone else, he must know something's up.”

Travis noticed Hannah's uncharacteristically wobbly demeanor. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, he just caught me off guard, that's all. I was half asleep when he appeared out of nowhere. Then he asked me to help him find Higson and that made me nervous. Are you sure we can't just go to the captain?”

“You'll be okay?” Travis put his hands on her shoulders, peered into her eyes, and then wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, nestling her face into his chest. A lone tear crept down her cheek. She turned her head and wiped it on his shirt. She didn't want him to see her cry.

A waiter carrying dishes back to the kitchen walked by and looked at them oddly. Otherwise, the room was empty.

After a long minute, Travis said, “Let's find you a room to rest in. It's late, and I don't think we're going to find him tonight. Heck, he's probably already asleep himself.”

Hannah mustered all the energy she had left. “Okay.”

They walked downstairs to the crew's cabins and returned to the room where they had found Hannah's uniform. Travis knocked. There was no answer. He opened the door and peeked inside. “No one's here. Why don't you lie down for a while?”

“What if the other residents return?”

“There are two beds. Just tell them you—I don't know, make something up.”

Hannah was too tired to argue. She sat down on the bed nearest the door and leaned her upper body toward the pillow, her legs bent and feet still on the floor.

Hellhound on my trail.

—Robert Johnson

TRAVIS WATCHED HANNAH FOR A MOMENT, THINKING she might speak or move. She didn't. He walked over and lifted her legs onto the bed, then covered her with a light blanket. He brushed her hair back, then turned out the lights and left.

Back in the dining room, he walked over to one of the many windows that separated it from the elements. The rain had stopped, and a stillness seemed to have enveloped the sky and the water. The great Mississippi no longer churned in the winds, and the
River Belle
glistened prettily while the moon, no longer shrouded by clouds, cast her beams upon the deck. A lone chaise lounge secured to the dining room's exterior wall caught Travis's attention.

He went outside, unfolded the chair, and wiped the water from its seat. He positioned it in a corner, out of sight from the dining room windows. The rain had cooled the air, a welcome relief.

Travis lay down and looked up at what had become a starry night. The only hint of the storm was off to the east, and he could see flashes of lightning in the distance. But without the associated thunder, which was now too distant to hear, the intermittent flashes reminded him of the lighthouses he had seen in movies, warning an ocean vessel's crew of a rocky and dangerous coastline.

Travis's eyelids were leaden. He could no longer think of Higson or anything else. His limbs became heavy, his breathing shallow.

Travis didn't notice the first kick to his chair. Some innermost part of him thought it was the ship's jerky movement. But when the kick came again, then again, he stirred at last from his slumber. He opened his eyes but was disoriented. He couldn't tell whether it was early morning or still the middle of the night. His vision was blurred.

“Mr. Montgomery.”

Travis heard the voice, but could see no one. He had slid down in the lounge chair but slowly raised himself to a seated position.

“Are you awake?”

The accent was familiar.

“Yeah, I'm awake,” Travis said into the night.

“Are you still evaluating property lines?”

Travis didn't answer.

“Where's my message? Do you have it with you?”

Travis couldn't think of anything to say. This was
not
how he had hoped to find Higson.

“No, I didn't think so. Mr. Montgomery, what exactly are you doing aboard this ship? Illegally, I suppose.”

“I'm just enjoying a quick trip downriver. Much like yourself, sir.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“I don't know.”

“You know, I wish that I had never come to America. I've had nothing but trouble since I arrived. I should have stayed in England.”

“Then why did you?” Travis hoped desperately to keep the professor talking.

“Oh, it's a long story. But we're near the end. Very near. In fact, I'm on my way home right now.”

“I doubt you're going to make it back.” Travis was fully awake now.

“Why is that?”

“Because the police and the FBI are searching for you all over the Delta. Probably all over the state. Every train station, every major road, every dock.” Travis wasn't sure, but he hoped it was true.

“Do you think so? They don't think I might have died in the fire?”

“No. It didn't take my dad long to figure out it wasn't you. So many dissimilarities between you and whoever that was.”

“Someone knocking on the wrong door looking for a meal, perhaps. Does it matter?”

“Maybe to some of his kin,” Travis said. “Be assured, Professor, they're already looking for you.”

“But nobody knows where I am, and I'm so close to my final destination.”

“
I
know where you are. And isn't it quite likely that I would have told someone where I was going beforehand?”