The Wrecking Crew [antikvár]

Chapter One i awoke early, shaved, dressed? draped myself with cameras and equipnient, and went on deck to record our entry into the port of Gothenburg. I couldn?t think of a likely markét for the shots, but I was supposed to be an eager and ambitious free-lance photographer, and Pd be expeeted to be alert to the chance that somebody would fali overboard or the shíp would hit something. Nothíng happened, and after we were safely docked i went down to breakfast, after which I came back up to the smoking room for passport inspection. Finally I was shunted down the gangplank into the amis of the Swedish customs, where I braced myself to justify my possession of a thousand bucks* worth of photographic gear and several hundred rolls of film, having been wamed that European countries are touchy about this sort of thing. It was a bum steer, Nobody paid any attentíon to the cameras and film. The only part of my belongings that caused a mild official interest was the guns. i explaíned that an editor In New York had arranged with a sporting character ín Stockholm to have an import permit waiting for me at the dock, I was thereupon escorted down the long shed to an office where a blond young fellow shortly produced a document authorizíng Herr Matthew L0 Helm? of Santa Fe, New Mexico, USA, to transport into the kingdom of Sweden one raffla gevar, Winchester, kaliber 30-06? and one kagelbössa, Remington, kaliber 12. The youthful customs man checked the serial numbers of the rifie and shotgun, then laid the weapons on a platform scale, wrote down the totál weight ín ldiograms? consulted a table with this figure/and annoimced that the duty would be thirteen crowns. Having already learned that the Swedish crown was worth approximately twenty cents, I couldn5t feel that the tariff was exorbítant, but it did seem like a funny way to assess it. S