Carlson raced toward the Forecastle Deck, hoping that his little scheme to get into the cargo hold would work. Once he arrived at the forecastle deck, he found the door which, according to his trusty map of the ship, would lead to the cargo hold. Upon going through the door, he was greeted by the sight of a poorly hit hallway with doors on either side. He found a door labeled TO CARGO HOLD. Inside was a metal spiral staircase leading to what looked like a loading area. A crewman was standing guard in front of the door. The crewman ran toward him.

"Nobody's allowed to..." he yelled, suddenly noticing the keys which Carlson held in his hand. "You got the keys!" he exclaimed. "You're a Carter! Right this way! Mind your head, its dark in there."

The crewman led Carlson past a heavy metal door and into the cargo hold, which was more poorly lit than the hallway leading to it. Carlson could just make out the compartments where the cargo was stored.

"Come to see your new automobile have you?" the crewman continued. "Can't say I don't blame you. She's a beauty! Gleaming like a new penny! You can find your way from here."

"Thank you, I'll go check on my automobile now." Carlson replied. He proceeded to walk down the hallway, looking for the right cargo compartment. Finally, he found the compartment number listed in the cargo manifest and opened the door. Although the compartment was poorly lit, he could just make out the automobile sitting in the corner. He tried looking for the crate in which the painting was stored, but he couldn't make out the writing on the crates. Perhaps turning on the headlights of the automobile would help, he thought. Carlson found the headlight switch on the automobile and turned it. Surprisingly, the light shone right on a crate marked 'Lemke and Buechner Shipping'. He immediately walked toward it. Carlson carefully lifted the lid off the crate.

To his relief, the painting was still in its frame. He had beaten Zeitel to the painting. Once more, he smiled at this victory. He carefully removed the painting from its frame, rolled it up and stowed it in his bag.

Suddenly he heard the sound of the heavy cargo hold door opening and closing. After that, he heard a loud thud. Immediately after, he heard Sasha's voice.

"Right this way, Zeitel!" Sasha yelled.

Carlson had to move fast. He couldn't be caught in here. He didn't know what they would do if they discovered him. Thinking quickly, Carlson turned off the headlights and dove into the backseat of the automobile and hid.

Just then, Carlson heard the metal door of the cargo compartment opening.

"It's in here, Zeitel." Sasha said. Carlson then heard the door close.

"Are you sure this is where it is stored?" Zeitel asked.

"Yes, I'm sure, Zeitel. I made sure of it myself!" Sasha repsonded. Carlson then heard the lid of the crate opening. Sasha gasped.

"But... but... I put it there myself!" yelled Sasha in utter bewilderment.

"Is there a problem?" asked Zeitel.

"Yes, the painting, it isn't there!" replied Sasha.

"What? But you told me repeatedly that it had been safely stored away." Zeitel answered.

"See for yourself! Its gone!" Sasha shouted. "There's another problem. The Rubaiyat, it was not at your drop point."

"But I put it there myself!" exclaimed Zeitel. "What happened?"

"It is just as I feared." Sasha answered. "There's a party on board. An agent working against you. Against us."

"How do you know?" Zeitel asked.

"My servant saw them at the drop." Sasha answered. 'They now have the Rubaiyat. This could ruin me Zeitel, if I were found out."

"We shall take precautions." Zeitel assured Sasha. "Sasha, I've discovered a traitor. Don't look so startled. It is not you."

"You mean, Haderlitz, your associate?" asked Sasha.

"No longer my associate I'm afraid" answered Zeitel. "Willi was an intellectual, and intellectuals aren't smart enough for espionage. Now, I must recover the painting and it's plans. I fear this third party of which you speak may already have possession of it."

"And Haderlitz?" asked Sasha.

"Thank you for asking" Zeitel replied. "Willi will bring no further harm to the Fatherland, I assure you. Lets leave this place and plan our next course of action."

With that, Carlson heard their footsteps heading toward the door of the cargo compartment. Afterward the door opened and closed with a loud clang. He waited until the sound of their footsteps disappeared. Carlson breathed a sigh of relief that they had not discovered him. He climbed out of the back seat of the automobile and tried to process what he'd just heard. "Willi, a spy?" he thought. Then he remembered that Willi's accent had a hint of Russian in it. But, he had no time to worry about that just now. He had to secure the painting.

Carlson walked toward the heavy metal door of the cargo hold. He then saw the crewman that had let him in laying on the floor, unconscious. Sasha and Zeitel had knocked him out, which explained the loud thud he had heard. He made his way back up to the Forecastle Deck. He then walked up the short flight of stairs which lead to A-Deck. Suddenly he noticed Georgia running toward him. She looked desperate.

"I knew you'd come!" Georgia said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Feeling he should oblige, Carlson asked "What's happened?"

"Charles received a telegram from the solicitors! Our estate's to be sold off!" Georgia responded. "He asked about the necklace I gave you. I told him I left it with the purser. Don't say anything to him or Sasha. Not him and his group of... There's much more to tell you. Can you meet me in my state room? I'm in B-70. It's Charles custom to go for a drink in the smoking room. When he does, visit me." With that Georgia walked away.

Carlson felt this would be a good opportunity to get some information from Georgia in private. Whats more, he felt even more sorry for her. But first, he had to check to see if Charles was in the smoking room. Carlson walked to the A-Deck entrance to the Aft Grand Staircase. Immediately he noticed that Daisy Cashmore was still waiting at the landing. He was then reminded of the favor she had asked of him. Fortunately, she was too busy chatting away to notice him.

Carlson walked up the flight of stairs to the doors to the smoking room. What greeted him when he entered was sheer elegance. Green carpeting and wood accents were everywhere. There was also a decent sized crowd of men. Carlson walked up to the attendant.

"I'm looking for Charles Lambeth. Is he in here?" asked Carlson.

"Yes, he's over there" replied the attendant, pointing to a refined but pretentious man standing toward the middle of the room. Carlson immediately recognized him, he had seen his face countless times in the papers.

'Thanks" said Carlson as he immediately left to go see Georgia. He thought it awkward to ask for someone and not talk to them. He walked down the two flights of stairs to B-Deck. After entering the B-Deck cabin area, he walked down the hall and looked for the door marked "B-70". Once he found it, he knocked on the door.

"Enter" said Georgia as she opened the door for Carlson. Once he entered, she closed the door behind him. "I wasn't sure you'd come" Georgia told him.

Not wasting anytime, Carlson asked: "What did you want to tell me?"

"First I want to know how you've fared these last years. Rather well from the looks of you." Georgia started. "I'm glad to see you. You're the only person I can trust. Please promise me you'll help."

Carlson felt he owed her a favor, considering he had up and left her to join the Service. "Yes, I promise to help you" he replied.

"You were always there when I needed you." she answered. "Now with my life a horrible mess."

"Tell me the story" Carlson requested.

"Sasha! I'll never trust him again!" she replied. "Don't you see? Their looking for guns! For bombs!"

Carlson didn't quite understand. "How did you and Sasha meet?" he asked.

"At a party last June" she answered. "Sasha was quite passionate. A Slavic trait I'm told. His mother came from Belgrade. I fell in love. We used to meet at his gallery, but we were never alone. They'd come at all hours! Sasha's friends. His gallery was their London base. They were rough men, foreign! Sasha told me they were part of a Balkan aid society. Stupid girl that I was, I believed him! But then I found out. These people they..."

Suddenly the cabin door opened, and in walked Charles Lambeth.

"Charles!" gasped Georgia.

"Please, Georgia, continue!" said Charles. "Was it my title or my income that you found most desirable? I was never sure. Now that both assets are depleted, why don't you go to Sasha? Maybe he can help, as he's done before."

Carlson could certainly tell that Charles cared very little for Georgia.

"Ignore him." Georgia told Carlson. "I see the smoking room has had its usual effect." she told Charles.

"Idle gossip apparently" was all Charles could say.

"You see his attitude?" she asked Carlson. "Please go."

"Since she obviously can't depend on me." Charles responded. "Here. Take the chill out of the air" he said as he offered a bottle of whiskey.

"No thanks" said Carlson.

"Thank you for seeing after my wife" Charles told him. "Now I think it best you leave the happy couple, drowning in their happiness. Goodnight."

"Remember, I need your help!" Georgia implored as Carlson left the cabin.

Carlson thought that the more he learned of Georgia's plight, the more he felt responsible for all of it. It was he who had left her to join the Service. He also felt it would be best to talk to Charles later, in hopes of getting some honest information from him.

However, there was no time to think about such things. Carlson had a mission and a few favors to do. He walked back toward the Grand Staircase to continue his mission.

TO BE CONTINUED

COMING NEXT: A Scandalous Ransom