Bear Island

"They might have spared the passengers on a night like this," I said.

"You underestimate our immortal trio, my dear boy. The fact that you may be one of the most excruciating musicians in existence does not prevent you from having a heart of gold. They have invited the passengers along to hear them perform in the hope that this might alleviate their sufferings." He closed his eyes as a raucous bellow overlaid with a high-pitched scream as of some animal in pain echoed down the passageway outside.

"The concert seems to have begun."

"You can't fault their psychology," I said. "After that, an Arctic gale is going to seem like a summer afternoon on the Thames."

`You do them an injustice." Lo

So I went and saw for myself and I had been doing them an injustice. The Three Apostles, surrounded by that plethora of microphones, amplifiers , speakers, and arcane electronic equipment without which the latter-day troubadors will not-and, more importantly, ca

There were fifteen in all, ten members of the production crew and five of the cast. A round dozen of them very clearly the worse for the wear but their sufferings were being temporarily held in abeyance by the fascination, which stopped a long way short of rapture, induced by the Three Apostles who had now reached a musical crescendo accompanied by what seemed to be some advanced form of St. Vitus's Dance. A hand touched me on the shoulder and I looked sideways at Charles Conrad.

Conrad was thirty years old and was to be the male lead in the film, not yet a big-name star but building up an impressive international reputation. He was cheerful. ruggedly handsome, with a thatch of thick brown hair that kept falling over his eyes: he had eyes of the bluest blue and most gleamingly white perfect teeth-like his name, his own-that would have transported a dentist into ecstasies or the depths of despair depending upon whether he was primarily interested in the aesthetic or economic aspects of his profession. He was invariably friendly, courteous, and considerate, whether by instinct or calculated design it was impossible to say.

He cupped his hand to my ear, nodded towards the performers.

"Your contract specifies hair shirts?"

"No. Why? Does yours?"

"Solidarity of the working classes." He smiled, looked at me with an oddly speculative glint in his eyes. "Letting the opera buffs down, aren't you?"

"They'll recover. Anyway, I always tell my patients that a change is as good as a rest." The music ceased abruptly and I lowered my voice about fifty decibels. "Mind you, this is carrying it too far. Fact is, I'm on duty.

Mr. Gerran is a bit concerned about you all."

"He wants his herd delivered to the cattle market in prime condition?"

"Well, I suppose you all represent a pretty considerable investment to him."

"Investment? Ha! Do you know that that twisted old skinflint of a beer barrel has not only got us at fire-sale prices but also won't pay us a pe

"No, I didn't." I paused. "We live in a democracy, Mr. Conrad, the land of the free. You don't have to sell yourselves in the slave market."

"Don't we just! What do you know about the film industry?"

"Nothing."

"Obviously. It's in the most depressed state in its history. Eighty percent of the technicians and actors unemployed. I'd rather work for pe

I'll tell him all of that." I looked around the room. The Three Apostles, mercifully, were refreshing themselves with ginger ale: most of the audience were likewise refreshing themselves though clearly in need of something stronger than ginger ale. I said to Conrad: "This little lot will get to market."

Instant mass diagnosis?"

"It takes practice. It also saves time. Who's missing?"

"Well." He glanced around. "There's Heissman-"

"I've seen him. And Neal Divine. And Lo

"Our beautiful but snooty young Slav, eh?"

"I'll go halfway with that. You don't have to be snooty to avoid people!'

"I like her too." I looked at him. I'd only spoken to him twice, briefly. I could see he meant what he said. He sighed. I wish she were my leading lady instead of our resident Mata Hari."

"You can't be referring to the delectable Miss Haynes?

I can and I am," he said moodily. "Feminies fatales wear me out. You'll observe she's not among those present. I'll bet she's in bed with those two damned floppy-cared hounds of hers, all of them having the vapours and high on smelling salts."

"Who else is missing?"

"Antonio." He was smiling again. "According to the Count-he's his cabin-mate-Antonio is in extremis and unlikely to see the night out."

"He did leave the dining room in rather a hurry." I left Conrad and joined the Count at his table. The Count, with a lean aquiline face, black pencil moustache, bar-straight black eyebrows and greying hair brushed straight back from his forehead appeared to be in more than tolerable health. He held a very large measure of brandy in his hand and I did not have to ask to know that it would be the very best cognac obtainable for the Count was a renowned co

"Evening, Count," I said. "At least, you look fit enough."

"-Tadeusz" to my peers. In robust health, I'm glad to say. I take the properly prophylactic precautions." He touched the barely perceptible bulge in his jacket. "You will join me in some prophylaxis? Your penicillins and Aureomycins are but witches" brews for the credulous."

I shook my head. "Duty rounds, I'm afraid. Mr. Gerran wants to know just how ill this weather is making people."

"Ah! Our Otto himself is fit?"

"Reasonably."

"One can't have everything."

"Conrad tells me that your roommate Antonio may require a visit."

"What Antonio requires is a gag, a strait jacket, and a nursemaid, in that order. Rolling around, sick all over the floor, groaning like some miscreant stretched out on the rack." The Count wrinkled a fastidious nose.