The Butcher of BoB

[Brewdude]

Frankly I believe Ozzie should have established himself in the hallways of the great paperback mystery writers of this day and age.  

This stuff is without peer in all aspects!

:bounce:


Cheers,

RR

 

[Ozark Wizard]

I can provide translations if anyone needs them. No worries.... :study:

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Chapter three, Log Books and Snooping.

 Log entry, October 31st. Day seven of our voyage. Our last course change has us moving northeast from St Johns, Newfoundland toward a whaling port on the southern tip of Greenland who's name escapes me at the moment. Current and prevailing winds are now both at our backs, so we've set full sail for down rigging and at full speed ahead. Several days have past since the loss of Chef.. The crew is in good spirits, though there have been complaints regarding our new voluntary cook's choices of recipes and cooking practices. I am inclined to agree. Must everything be boiled and salted to death? Some of the crew have taken to spear fishing the bow for sport and alternative menu items, using modified harpoons. Their aim is wanting. Interviews of the crew have enlightened the mystery of what happened to Chef have not proved fruitful, so I have gathered his beongings to my cabin for examination.


 Langhonre looked at the stacks of papers. Crumpled sheets and scraps of various stuffs, almost entirely covered with scribbles, drawings, etc. Most of what he found in their contents were akin to a child's school work. A line of 'A's', 'B's', 'C's', and the like. Others with words like 'boat', 'crew', 'tea'. A tattered bible was also among the belongings. As Langhorne opened it, some pages fell out, some dog-eared, many with lines under passages or circled. Most of the pages were littered with cliff notes. As Langhorne went through the pages, he bagan to note a pattern, a focus, in Chef's notations.

 Sin. Forgiveness of sin. Slavery.

'Ugh', thought Langhorne, 'the conscience of a man can be his curse, old friend', as he begun to lay out the pages as if they were a puzzle to assemble without defined edges. After a while they covered the mapping desk in the center of the room. A knock on his door made him look up.

 "Enter!" That was a mistake. As the door swung open, the wind burst in and flung the papers all about the room, a flurry of action as autumn leaves dancing in a gale.

 "Secure that hatch!" Langhorne shouted as Lieutenant Walker came in. Walker quickly shut the door and began helping Langhorne collect the roughly strewn paper and pages from around the room.

 "Beggin' the Cap'n's pahdon, suh, ah apologize fo' the intrusion," Walker said. "Ah noticed Chef's bunk was cleaned out and one o' the crewmen said you wuh gatherin' it up in here. Can I be of assistance suh?"

 Langhone looked up at him from under the desk, wads of papers in his hands, and replied, "Indeed so Leftenant. First, you may help me up from under here," extending a hand to Walker, who reached out promptly and dragged his captain to his feet. Now upright, Langhorne continued, "Now, if wouldn't mind finding that box of chart pins around here to secure these papers while I attempt to resort them," waving his hand about the room. "They're around here somewhere."

 "Aye, suh," said Walker, who walked straight to the captain's desk, opened the first drawer and produced the box of pins. Langhorne nodded, "Now pin down the papers as I set them down." Walker nodded again, and began pinning down the papers and pages. At one point, looking at one of Chef's spelling practice pages, he smiled. This was not missed by Langhorne.

 "What do you find amusing?" he asked sharply. Walker looked up bemused. "This page suh. Ah remembuh helpin' ol' Chef with this 'un mahseff. He was actually pretteh prideful about this one, suh. He gottem all down himseff without mah coaxin'."

 "You were teaching Chef to write?" asked Langhorne. Walker smiled faintly and replied, "Yessuh, readin' too. He was pretty embarraassed about not havin' an edduhcation suh. Ah did my paht to hepp him as ah could. That bible was all he had fo readin' mahterials, ah told him that was jess fine, my pappy tought me readin' out a bible jess like that 'un, and ah can read and write. It'sa new wuld out there suh, a man hasta read and make his marks these days, idden that so?"

 "It seems so, yes," Langhorne answered. "So, those times the crew saw you both together, that was when you were helping Chef?"

 "Whah suhtenly, suh. Chef didn't want no one to know he was book learnin'. You've known him longuh than ah, would you not say he was a solitary man, suh?" replied Walker. "Now ah know the crew was thinkin' he and ah wuh tryin' to kill the ni-, um, XO, but that juss iddent so suh. Juss 'cause a man don't like a man, there ain't no cause to be a killah. Ah was showin' that to Chef in that there bible too. Killin' ain't no good fo' the soul, cap'n."

 Langhorne thought on that a bit while they sorted the rest of the papers. "What was Chef's reaction to that?" he finally asked.

 "Oh, suh, that hurt him bad inside," Walker said. "Ah could see in his eyes that was a shahp point in his chest. He ast me if that meant he was goin' to Hell suh. Ah didn't know what to tellim. Ah think ah said sumppin' about Wrath o' God or sumppin' 'round abouts that. That's about the time he stahted writin' those lettahs."

 "What letters?" asked Langhorne, as he bagan rummaging through the few papers left not tabled, "I see no letters here. Do you have them?"

 "No suh. When he stahted writin' letters, he stopped showin' me his wuhk. Ah rekunn he kept 'em close to his chest, as when ah'd see him writin on them he'd tuck em' into his shuht as someone would be gettin' close to him. Ah ast him a time or two whut he was a'writin' an he'd juss say 'lettahs'. Ah'd say 'what kine and he'd juss say 'prahvat'. They ain't in hereah suh?" Walker said shuffling the few remaining papers and bits of still bound bible pages.

 "I don't see them," said Langhorne. "Perhaps they are still on his person." Walker nodded. "Ah rekunn."

 Another knock rapped on the door. The officers looked quickly at each other wide eyed, and as one, grabbed the coats on the hooks and threw them across the table just as the XO opened the door to come in. "CLOSE THAT DOOR!" they both shouted in stereo. Instantly, Adams slammed the door shut behind him as he entered the cabin. His apologetic smile was his preface.

 "Beggin' yo gentlemen's pardon," tipping his hat as he spoke. "I tote yousa might be open to a suggestion from deh XO regahdin' dis mysterious mystery oof deh loss o' Chef? Wacha got hidin' oondah dem coats anyhoo?"

 Langhorne and Walker glanced at each other, then looked back at Adams. "These are pages of Chef's belongings, Jonah," Langhorne answered as he uncovered the table. "We are trying to gain insight on Chef's state of mind and looking for clues as to who he might have been at odds with."

 "Find anyting juicy?" queried Adams. "Any pitchas ofme hangin' from a tree, or heem trowin' me of deh boot, sir? Looks like he can make sounds wit dem scribbles too, yah? Heem been scribblin' bad spellin' at me?"

 "Writing about you Jonah? No, not that we've found. You said you had a suggestion to solve the question of Chef's disappearance?" Langhorne replied. "Have you found any evidence, or has one of the crew come forward?" Adams shook his head in response. "Well then, out with it man! What do you suggest? A crystal ball? Summoning an angel from above?"

 "Almost a beet o' both, sir," said Adams. Eef I haff de tings I need here on board, I and I can do a summoning off deh Chef's speereet, an' we can de ones doin' de askin', and den may be get dose ansahs from dee hosas' mowt, so to say. What say you to dat, sir?"

 Walker stiffened upright at the table, glaring at Adams. "Divination, suh? Sumnin' up the dead, suh? That suh," shaking his finger at Adams, "is an abomination and a sin against the Almighteh! How dare you suh, how DARE you, I say!" He turned to Langhorne, "Tell meh you will not suffah such a request suh!" he implored. "Let the dead stay wheh they are. Ah've seen those Haitian and Jamaican voodoo practitionuhs suh. They are in league with the Devil suh!"

 Langhorne raised his hands up, closed his eyes briefly, then lowered his hands to the table and looked at Walker. "Why are you so vehemently protesting this suggestion, sir? You never struck me as a particularly 'God fearing' man." He looked at Adams and motioned him to the table. "Come over here Jonah and let us discuss this matter in quieter tones, eh, gentlemen?"

 "I would, cap'n sir, but my tails be caught in deh door," Adams replied. "Scuze me sir" he said as he removed his coat and left it on the floor. He ambled to the table, arms wrapped about his chest. "Eesa bit brisk, sir. No place for an Equitorial mon." Langhorne handed him his sweater from the desk chair. "Pull this on for the moment Jonah. Tell me more of this summoning. Lieutenant, mind your tongue until the XO is finished."

 Adams went into the description of what his ceremony entailed,  the pieces, the setting, the time of night. Were we to have more time to go into the details before too long, I would. We shall then save those details for the ceremony itself, tonight, and the summoning of Chef's troubled spirit, and what answers lay in wait to help solve the mystery.....

Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter,

The Summoning.

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Howdy folks!

OK, so I have chapter four ready to post, buuut, I'm not going to put it up until around midnight.

Ooooh, very scary! Spooky business for our Halloween night!

Stand by!

 

[Stick]

[mops beads of sweat from brow]

 

[Ozark Wizard]

The cleaver looks something like this....

 

[Brewdude]

The cleaver looks something like this....

In this, the inimitable Jesse Jones has outdone his previous mastery!

irat:


Cheers,

RR

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Yup. Figures I can't compete for it. Darn.....

 

[Ozark Wizard]

21:26 CST and no guesses.... I guess this is tougher than last year's mystery...

Too many details? Am I not getting to the point quickly enough?

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Good evening Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight's episode is in loving acknowledgement of our beloved Fatman.

Take care Brother, and Happy All Hallow's Eve....




Chapter 4, The Summoning.

"Good evening, Lieutenant," said Langhorne, as he opened the

door. "Won't you come in?"

 "I still think this is a bad idea, suh," Walker replied.  "Nuthin' good

will come of this."

 "Yes, yes, find a seat at the table," as he nodded, "Find a seat, ah,

thank you for coming Mr. Lachlan. Please find a seat at the table,

there's a good chap," winked Langhorne to Lachlan, who was quick

on the heals of Walker.

 "Ach, wail, aye! Ah wouldn't lassy this fur th' world! raising th' deid

is some trick!," Lachlan winked back. 'What a funny man', Langhorne

thought to himself, 'ah well, it takes all kinds, eh?' Lachlan then

pushed his way past Langhorne to the table. He chose a seat

between Walker and Adams, leaving two adjoining  seats for

Langhorne and Faulkner.

 Faulkner was soon to arrive. As Langhorne received him he

complained about the cold and the time of day for this meeting. "I

vood azleep if ziss veren't so important to you, Herr Captain!"

 Thank you for joining, Herr Doctor, please be seated,"

Langhorne answered.

 Adams, meanwhile, is busy with his preparations. In the center of

the table was a small assemblage of items. A lit candle, small cloth

bag of something, a few bones and shells, and what looked to be

salt in a grinder. Five lanterns were hung about the room for

illumination. It was an exceptionally dark night, and thick with fog,

chocking what light spilled from the cabin windows. A steady breeze

and calm seas had the Alexander cutting through the water like a

sharp knife opening soft flesh. An unusually quiet evening.

 Those at the table were glancing about nervously, silent.

Langhorne broke the silence with, "One could guess we weren't at

sea tonight! So, Adams, are we just about ready?"

 "Iree sir, ready as can be. I done fetched my tings, and a ting from

Chef. Could fine no small tings, so I'm brought dis," and set down

the butcher block with Chef's blade still lodged in it. "I'm tried hodd

to draw dat blade, but heem stuck tight!" Langhorne smiled and

reached for the cleaver and, holding the block down, tried to pull it

forth. A second and third attempt availed him not. He leaned back

and sat in his chair.

 "I believe we are ready then," he inquired. "Yah sir, we ready."

Adams replied.

 Adams then reached for the bag on the table, muttering under his

breath, some rhythmic, vaguely melodic chanting. While doing so, he

slowly poured the contents of the bag around the items on the

table, until he made a complete circle. He then closed the bag and

set it aside. "While I and I are in speak, no mon speak. I am callin' to

Chef. Dehr be a pain in dis mon dat hole heem to dis boat. I call on

dis pain to draw fort deh spirit of Chef, join widdus and be in

speak!" with which he returned to his under breath chanting. The

others at the table looked around at each other. Walker looked

pale and nervous, as if he were going into battle. The doctor kept

looking over, then through, his spectacles at the collection of

artifacts on the table, and then studying Adams. Lachlan was

grinning about, looking quite delighted about the goings on in the

room. Langhorne closed his eyes, and began to wonder about the

whole idea when suddenly his chair heaved.

 With his eyes snapping open, the first thing he saw was the cleaver.

Lachlan and the others gasped as the cleaver was slowly spinning

just above the block it was previously seated in. Adams, never

looking up, increases his volume. As he does, the speed of the

cleaver's spin gradually increased. A turn a second. Two turns a

second. Then three, then five. Almost at speaking volume now,

Adams speaks,

 "Chef! Chef! I know you here! What happen you, Chef? What

happen?"

 The blade spins faster now, almost a blur. "Captain! For the love

of God sir!" cried out Walker. Langhorne instantly raised a finger

to his own lips, 'hush', he thought to himself. Langhorne wanted to

see this through. It was a truly fantastic sight, this helicoptering

cleaver spinning at eye level now, well above the table. He noticed

the candle on the table. It didn't even flicker. 'Surely that's not

possible,' he thought. Suddenly, the blade stopped spinning, it's

head pointed right at Walker. Then a voice came from the blade,

  "Thank you"

"Chef," Adams called out again, "Chef, Chef! What happened?"

 The blade began to spin again, getting to speed much faster this

time.

 Chef! Chef! What happened to you!" Adams called out.

 The blade immediately froze, head pointed at Adams. The moment

froze. Adams licked his lips, and the voice came back,

 "Forgive me"

 Adams began to shake as the blade began it's rotation again.

Spinning and spinning, becoming a solid shining platter to the eye,

nothing but blade, spinning. Adams looked at Langhorne, then at

Walker.

 "Chef! Chef! What happened to you Chef?" Adams again called

out. The blade froze, this time, pointed at Langhorne.

 "Mine's the sin"

 With that, the blade dropped to the table and firmly imbedded

itself back into the block with a sickening thud. The candle on the

table, blown out by the wake of air, a silent ribbon of smoke

lingering gave notice to what had just transpired. Langhorne then

watched Lachlan's eyes roll back in his head jut before the man

rolled out of his seat onto the floor, a pool of flesh. Faulkner

jumped over to him and felt for a pulse.

 "It vood seem Herr Lachlan hass pazzed out, Herr Captain," He

pronounced.

 "Then, help him up and to his quarters, if you don't mind,"

Langhorne replied. The doctor laughed shortly. "I appreciate your

confidence in mine strength, Herr Captain, but," as he tugged on

Lachlan's arm, "I vood be very surprised if three off us could manage

zat feat off engineering!" Faulkner rose up and finished with,

"Perhaps a goot blanket vere he lies vill do him vell enough! Iff zat iss

all gentlemen, I vill take mine leave. Danke' vor an interesting

evening!" He then closed his coat, opened the door and left.

Langhorne closed the door behind him and turned to his fellow

officers.

 "What do you make of that Adams?" asked Langhorne. "I don't

think we got any answers from that bit of spookery. Very unsettling,

to say the least though, eh Walker?"

 Walker had still not moved in his seat. He just sat there, breathing

shallow breathes of a man who was just spared the gallows. He

stared at the cleaver intently, as if waiting for something else to

happen.

 "Lieutenant!" shouted Langhorne. Walker slowly turned his face

upward to Langhorne. In the lantern light, the captain saw tears

rolling down Walker's face. Langhorne opened his mouth to say

something, but just then Walker looked away, rose from his seat,

and wiped his face with his sleeve. He then turned to Langhorne.

 "Puhmission to be releaved suh?" he asked.

 "Permission granted lieutenant. Why don't you get some rack time.

The yeoman of the Watch will oversee this evening's balance. Take

some time." Langhorne said.

 Walker sighed. "Yessuh, thank you suh," as he looked into

Langhorne's eyes. "Y'all rekunn that was reay him suh?" he asked.

Langhorne looked back as deeply and whispered, "Ah rekunn so.

Good night lieutenant." Walker stood tall, clicked his heels

together and threw a smart salute to the captain, who saluted back

with as much vigor as he could muster. Walker spun on his heels and

left the room, gently closing the cabin door behind him. Now, left

with his XO, his passenger passed out on the deck, and that cleaver

standing proudly in that block, he pulled out a chair to his desk and

produced a secreted bottle of spirits, and looked at his XO.

 "Had enough spirits tonight Jonah, or are you willing to dabble

into some of mine?" he asked, waving the bottle slightly in Adams's

direction.

 "What be gwine on in dat?" Adams asked, dropping into the

nearest chair to Langhorne, leaning forward slightly. Langhorne

chuckled a bit, saying, "It's from Kentucky Jonah. They call it

bourbon," while he popped out the cork and tipped it back to his

lips. A good pull later, he dropped it down between his knees while

he wiped his mouth on his coat arm. Looking up, he saw Adams

leaning farther over with his hand out, opening and closing.

Langhorne lifted the bottle slightly, with which Adams nodded

fervently. "Gimme dat glass meestah!" Then he looked serious. "No

rank, tonight den sir?" he asked. Langhorne nodded, then shook his

head.

 "Yes, no rank tonight Jonah. So tell me. What do you think

happened?"

 Adams leaned back in his chair and tipped the bottle. Langhorne

began to be alarmed at the flow of liquid going down and leaned

forward. Adams pulled the bottle down and handed it back to his

captain, then leaned back in his chair. A low pitched whistle came

out of him as he fanned his face with his hat. "Jah Rastafarie, dats a

smooth dangah dehr mon! I and I need no morrahdat!" Then he

leaned in close and whispered,

 "I tell you what I tink......................."




What do you think?

 

[WarlockBob]

Hrmmmmmm...................... lots to think on for this!

I'll hopefully have a guess put together by today or tomorrow.

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Yes, plenty to think about. The clues are all there though.....

Would y'all like another chapter? :roll:

 

[Blackhorse]

Easy for YOU since you know the ending.

A guy could pick any of a half dozen characters and make a case for his choice
by filling in a bit of yet unknown exposition.



Humph.

 

[Timbo]

Brilliant stuff Ozzie, a lot to cogitate upon.

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Alright folks, the next chapter will appear tomorrow, when the Alexander arrives in Greenland...

 

[D.L.Ruth]

:scratch: glad I'm  not a detective...the only thing I have figured out so far is that someone is missing lol. I guess I'll have to go back and reread :lol!:

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen....


Unfortunately, demands upon my time today have become formidable, and the Muse has escaped me for the moment. Our last and definitive episode will be otherwise pending until the aquatic fowl are queued. Of note, one of the sleuths engaged in the discernment of our play has solved the puzzle before us correctly, and thus won the prize!

Whom might our victor be, you might ask?

Well, all will be revealed in our pending chapter. Until then, please enjoy this cute kitten picture......

 

[Ozark Wizard]

Chapter 5.   Greenland

Captain's log, November Third.

We have arrived at the whaling port of Nanortalik. The crew has begun unloading a portion of Mr. Lachlan's hemp and acquiring provisions for our second leg of our journey. Rumours and speculation abound amongst them regarding the occurrence on the evening of October 31st, though no one has directly approached me regarding the matter. Mr. Lachlan's demeanor has been quite subdued since then, as has Lieutenant Walker's. The good doctor seems nonplussed and has been carrying on per usual, and has expressed a need to go ashore to 'stretch his legs and do some shopping'. A rotation has been drawn up by the XO for crew wanting some shore leave, and so we plan on staying over until an impending weather feature has passed.

 Our hosts have been very accommodating, and a few expressed interest in coming aboard for a tour of sorts, as they have expressed their admiration for the lines of the Alexander. I acquiesced to their requests in hopes to strengthen relations.

 



 "Cap'n suh, Ensign Meriwether reports the ship is listing to port two degrees" reported Walker. "Puhhaps we should send a team below to readjust ouh ballast? Mistauh Lachlan's hemp shipmint was heaviah then we recunned, ah 'spose, and may have shifted."

 "Very well," Langhorne relpied, "See to it, Lieutenant." Walker saluted and walked away shouting at some of the deck hands, "Look livelah men, we ah goin' below! You theh! Fetch up some lanterns and make the way cleah to the ballast bay!"

 Langhorne looked out over the railing to the small town. On the beaches were laid out great beasts of the sea, the many men flensing the carcasses, butchers with carts scattered about, and rows of great trypots simmering the blubber down for the precious oil. 'There seems no end to the row upon row of whales ashore', he thought to himself. The harbour was teeming with activity as well, small craft going to and fro, from ship to shore, some ship to ship. Larger ships than the Alexander were present, some seem to dwarf Langhorne's. Flags of many nations were represented too. After a while he noticed a small craft approaching. Langhorne waved, and one man waved back. As they closed the distance, the man shouted up to Langhorne, "Permission to come aboard!?!"

 Langhorne cupped his hands around his mouth. "Permission granted!" Then turned to one of the crew mending sheets, "You there! Prepare to accept guests. Run out the plank!"

 "Aye, aye captain," the crewman replied and called to a few others to assist. As the boat pulled alongside, the gangway was extended down. The small craft heaved to and tied off while the lead man scurried up to Langhorne.

 "Would you be Mister Langhorne," the man asked. Langhorne raised an eyebrow and smiled. "No", he replied, "That would be be my father. I am Captain Langhorne, master and commander of this vessel. And who might you be?" extending his right hand.

 "I am Governor Thorsen, Governor and Harbormaster, 'Captain'," with which he produced some papers, consulted them and continued," I have spoken with a Mister Lachlan regarding his shipment, and according to his documents there are further items on board that will not be unloaded here, is this so?" Langhorne nodded and began to reply, where the Governor interrupted and continued, "And this balance of cargo is tobacco?"

 "Yes," Langhorne answered quickly, "I believe Mr. Lachlan has a full manifest of his property that is onboard."

 The governor peered up from his paperwork, "So 'captain', do you not also have a manifest regarding all items on this vessel?"

 "Indeed I do," Langhorne replied, "Would you care to join me in my cabin so we may go over it together?" motioning behind him. Thorsen nodded and pushed past Langhorne towards the cabin, then turned, "Well?"

 Langhorne proceeded the rude guest across the deck, when bursting forth from below came Walker and the crewmen, pale and fervently crossing themselves. Indeed, they almost ran the captain and governor over in their haste. Walker began with, "Good Lawd, Cap'n!...." where Langhorne interrupted him, "Ah, good, Lieutenant Walker! Let me introduce you to our host, Governor Thorsen. He is here to check on us and unsure we have our documents in order. It was kind of him to come aboard today, yes?"

 Walker looked wildly about, then at Langhorne, who was staring intently at Walker, then at Thorsen. Quickly composing himself, he saluted the governor. "Welcome aboard suh! Thank you suh! Then looked at Langhorne and asked, "A word, Cap'n suh?"

 "We were on our way to my cabin to go over the ship's manifest, Lieutenant, "said Langhorne. Walker grabbed Langhorne's arm. "Please suh, a moment?" Langhorne turned to his guest. "Will my First Officer be able to assist you with this Mister Thorsen? A captain's duties are ever present."

 Thorsen glared at Langhorne. "Governor Thorsen, thank you very much. Oh, I suppose your first officer will be as competent as you in showing me papers." Langhorne shouted out to Adams, who was on the wheel deck, his eyes never leaving Thorsen's. "XO, front and center!"

 Adams shot down to where the group was, approaching Thorsen from behind, and saluted. Langhorne smiled to Thorsen and motioned to Adams. "This is my second in command, Senior Lieutenant Adams. Adams, the Governor is here to check our manifests, I want you to show them to him and answer any questions regarding the manifests. If there is anything else he requires refer him back to me. Thank you."

 Thorsen turned around to meet Adams and took several steps back, in doing so stepped on Walker's feet and almost fell. "Good Lord!" he exclaimed, with which Adams said, smiling, "No worries, Meestah Gov'nah sir, I and I geet dat reaction moe often den you tink. Dis weh, sir," motioning towards the captain's cabin. Thorsen tentatively followed Adams.

 When they were a good distance away, Walker leaned into Langhorne, and hissed, "Suh, we found Chef." He is in thuh verah stern of the ballast stow."

 Langhorne straightened sharply. "Alive?"

 Walker shook his head. " No suh, he's quite passed on suh. It's a terrible saht suh. It'sa terrible saht. He cut his ahms suh, 'n blead himseff drah. Thuh smell too suh, it's bad. He had these in his  leff hand suh, and thuh knife that did the deed in his raht," as he passed several folded papers to Langhorne. "That one on top, suh, I think you should read that in privaht." Langhorne looked at Walker, then at the cabin with his 'guest' going over paperwork.

 "I'll be on the foredeck, lieutenant, see that I'm not disturbed," he said and made his way forward. As he went, the other crewmen with Walker were visibly shaken and talking amongst themselves. Langhorne turned  to Walker. "Lieutenant, see to it those men are given a ration of spirits and sent to their quarters until our guest has departed. Now!"

As Walker saw to the men, Langhorne stood on the bow and opened up the bloody letter.


 "I, Archibald Tanner, with great regret and sorrow, offer this letter to my frend and captin, Samule Langhorn, to God, and thoz whom I have ronged in my life. In my time of learning to read and rite, the holly book has tot me about what a good person is. I am not a good person, so I remove myself from being the berdun I am and go to my jujmint before God. My stuff can go to whoo wants it. I do not need it any more. Forgive me."

 Langhorne's eyes began to tear up. He knew that Chef had been going through some hard times dealing with his past, but not to the extent of suicide. 'Perhaps he is a better place now,' he thought to himself. 'Rest easy Chef, rest easy'. He looked back to the main deck, and saw Adams pointing at Langhorne on the bow, apparently directing the Harbormaster to him. Langhorne went down to meet his guest and caught him at the gangplank.

 "I trust everything is in order, Governor?" he said. Thorsen looked bored and replied, "I suppose so, 'captain'. Your manifests of Mr. Lachlan's property match his."

 "So, very good then, sir," Langhorne said, extending his hand again. Thorsen looked at Langhorne's hand, then up at Langhorne. "Do not be dismissive with me, 'captain'. We are not finished here. I wish to examine the cargo. I noticed while approaching your vessel your craft is canted to your port side. Had you not noticed?" Thorsen looked at the sky and concluded, "Now is as good a time as any for an inspection. Shall we?"

DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNN!







 So fellow BoB'ers, you have your answer. Chef killed himself over his guilty past, no longer able to bear his conscience.

 Timbo made the correct guess and had good reasoning behind it! Congratulations Timbo!!! :cheers: :cheers: :cheers:

Thanks for playing, and tolerating my rather long winded composition!

 

[Stick]

Well played Timbo!

I had just got my note pad out and a Columbo style mac... Never mind... Perhaps next year?!?

A tip of the cap to the Wiz too. Great story exceptionally well written. Is there no end to this chap's talents?

 

[D.L.Ruth]

Good job Timbo. I'm so bad at these lol, I did thoroughly enjoy the story though.