Holly woke at first light and lay on her side, looking out at the serene beauty of the sea. Connor was curled into her back, one arm resting on her hip. She could feel his breath against her neck. If she moved he’d wake up, and she didn’t want him to, not yet. She needed to savour this perfect moment. The lagoon looked like silvery grey satin. Soon a breeze would ruffle the surface, forming a canvas on which the rising sun could paint new colours of amber, then turquoise. But for now, the water appeared to be sleeping, breathing as gently as the man who held her.
Reality was the gull perched on a pirogue busily preening its feathers in preparation for another day. It was a restless Indian Ocean stretching to infinity beyond the coral reef. It was today and tomorrow and all the days after that. Cocooned between the tranquil scene outside and the man she had so recently given her heart to, Holly wanted this moment to be indelibly etched into her soul, there to draw on when reality was less than perfect, when life wounded and disappointed.
Something startled the bird and it flew off, screeching. Connor stirred, kissed her bare shoulder and snuggled closer. For one brief moment, Holly had captured perfection. Nothing, and no-one, could ever take it from her. She rolled over and burrowed her body into Connor’s, the flawless few seconds a precious gift, handed out free of charge by fate for her to nurture and use or keep forever secret. As Connor’s arms tightened around her and she responded to her need of him, Holly felt that an angel must have taken time out to truly bless her.
Later, he brought her coffee in bed. They sat together, him behind with arms and legs around her, and they watched in silence as the lagoon selected its colour for the new day.
‘You know,’ Connor finally said, his lips against her hair, ‘I could stay like this forever.’
‘Mmmm! Me too.’
‘When this is over, when we’re back home, let’s make sure we give ourselves time for this. A lot of time.’
Holly put down her half-finished coffee and turned into him. ‘Yes,’ she whispered against his lips. Then remembered her manners. ‘Please.’
Reality kicked in at eight thirty and dragged both of them back to its unsympathetic demands.
‘One day. That’s all we can give William’s treasure.’
‘Then we’d better get a wriggle on.’
Connor groaned. ‘Yuh!’ He took both of her hands in his. ‘Come and have a shower with me.’
‘Probably not.’ He pulled her up and folded his arms around her. ‘Be strong. We can do this.’
Holly wound hers around his neck. ‘We can? Are you sure?’
‘Behave, Jones.’
She kissed a nipple, feeling him shiver. ‘I will,’ she promised.
‘When?’ His voice was low and urgent. ‘Jesus, woman!’
Holly took a deep breath and moved back from him. ‘Now?’
His dark eyes glowed with renewed desire. ‘Now’s good.’ He moved reluctantly towards the bathroom. ‘About that shower – I don’t trust you.’
‘That’s nothing.’ Holly followed him. ‘I don’t trust myself.’
Reality. They kicked it out again. But it proved doggedly persistent.
At nine fifteen, Connor put through a call to Liang Song. Judging by his expression and the one-sided conversation, she had to be giving an opinion on the virtues of time keeping. He arranged to meet with her the next morning and hung up, pulling a wry face. ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall when her number comes up. She’ll go ballistic.’
‘Serves her right.’
He grinned at Holly’s lack of charity. ‘Come on, Jonesy. Time to go.’
‘Jonesy comes a close second to ducky.’
‘Jones then.’
‘Jones is good.’
‘So it’s the “y” you don’t like. Does that mean I can call you duck?’
He did a pretty good impression of a different kind of duck himself when she threw a cushion at him.
They left the apartment still absorbed in each other and finding fun in every moment. Not even the telephone call to Liang Song had dampened their spirits. They didn’t notice Justin Parker in a car parked further down the road.
The call had come in late the previous afternoon. ‘They’re in Flic-en-Flac,’ Raoul said. ‘You’ll find them easily enough, they’re renting a studio apartment overlooking the sea.’
‘I’ve arranged a car. I’ll get straight down there.’
‘They’re not going anywhere today. Be there first thing tomorrow.’
Justin didn’t ask how he had found them. Raoul only had to make a telephone call or two and the Australians’ every movement would be monitored. He experienced a rush of irritation that Holly was so cosily ensconced with Maguire. He’d have given her credit for better taste.
Parked in easy sight of their apartment by first light, Justin cared nothing for the new day’s beauty. He tormented himself with visions of what might be happening on the other side of that closed door. Holly and Maguire eventually emerged, hand-in-hand, and climbed into Maguire’s car. The bloody man was laughing at something she’d said. Justin followed them, waiting while they went into a bakery, then a grocer and finally a fruit shop. After that, they headed back towards the main road.
‘That looks nasty,’ Holly commented as they drove past the smashed wreck of Sham’s unmarked police car. It was on its side, bent in a V-shape, windows shattered, roof and doors staved in, wheels buckled. A few enterprising scavengers had stripped it of anything they thought they might be able to sell, or put to good use.
The detective, who had hovered all night at death’s door, was at last making a come-back. His vital signs were stronger and he had slipped from coma to sleep some time around dawn. That he survived at all was a miracle. For as long as he lived, Sham would never be able to recall anything about the accident, other than what caused it. Travelling too fast, close on eighty-five kilometres an hour, he’d swerved to avoid the Porsche and crashed into a storm drain. His car hit the far side of the ditch nose first, then became airborne, turning end over end until it met the immovable solidity of a telegraph pole, an impact that literally broke the vehicle’s back. It was over in an instant. The crumpled wreck then slid back into the culvert. By then, Sham had lost interest.
Flying glass made superficial inroads to his appearance but the real damage was caused when his seatbelt sprang open on impact. His skull had been fractured, right arm and wrist broken, chest caved in by the steering wheel, ribs broken and a lung punctured. He had a jagged hole in his liver, both hips were broken and an ankle fractured so badly he would always walk with a limp. And just for good measure, the rear-view mirror eliminated the benefit of sight from his left eye.
Sham re-entered the land of the living with very little enthusiasm. Big-time, life-threatening events have a way of penetrating the consciousness ahead of anything else. He knew, even before registering pain, or the fact that his body seemed to be encased in swaddling, that he wasn’t going to like it.
Both eyes had been bandaged. He heard his wife, quietly sobbing, somewhere in the room. An undamaged sense of smell told him he was in hospital.
‘Wha . . . ?’ Sham croaked.
His wife burst into tears. Closer to the bed, a matter-of-fact female voice told him that he’d had a car accident. Sham wondered where.
He drifted in and out of sleep with no idea what time it was, or even which day. Although heavily drugged to alleviate the pain, when his commanding officer paid a visit that afternoon the detective knew there was something he had to tell him. The only trouble was, he couldn’t remember what. Without saying a word, Sham succumbed once again to the security of pain-killing medication and the opportunity was lost.
Connor agreed that the escarpment over which the waterfall began its downward plunge was identical to William’s map. Although the whole area was overgrown and the terrain difficult, there was no mistaking the scalloped shape or terraced descent.
‘My taxidriver told me that the hydro-electric scheme has virtually destroyed this river,’ Holly said. ‘When William drew his map it would have been much wider and fuller.’
‘If his directions are accurate, the treasure should be somewhere over there.’ Connor pointed down to the far side. From the top, the water dropped straight for perhaps ten metres then flowed over a steeply sloping rock shelf before plunging on between two cliffs and falling further into a large pool. After that was a series of smaller waterfalls, taking it to the bottom. Connor was pointing to where the lush forest grew right up to the edge of the stream. Before human intervention, the entire width of the escarpment would have formed part of the waterfall, rather like a miniature version of the horseshoe-shaped Niagara Falls. Now, with only a trickle, vegetation had taken root where it could and the walls of the precipice were virtually hidden. ‘Might be a bit tricky getting down there. How’s your head for heights?’
‘Fair.’ She was lying. Holly hated heights.
‘Somewhere above that second pool would be my guess. We’ll have to get around to the other side first.’ Connor picked up a coil of rope he’d brought from the car and draped it over his shoulder. It was the only equipment he had with him.
The going was rough. There was no track and the ground dipped and rose with little warning. The vegetation was so dense that at times it was not possible to see the waterfall. Connor proved reasonably sure-footed. All Holly could think was, what went down had to come back up. She was not looking forward to the climb. This stage of a relationship was not the time to discover that the object of your desires was out of condition!
Justin Parker, when he reached the place where Holly and Connor had compared their map with the scenery, made the same connection as Holly had done when she first looked at the Tamarin Falls. He had committed the map to memory, and he also came to the conclusion that the place to start looking was on the other side. No longer concerned with keeping up his pursuit, the only thing on Justin’s mind was the treasure. He had to reach it before them. Instead of following Holly and Connor, Justin set off in the opposite direction.
Connor had two distinct advantages over Justin. The last five years of his schooling had been spent as a boarder at The Armidale School, a private Anglican establishment in the Northern Tablelands of New South Wales which, in addition to mundane classroom activities, gave emphasis to the hands-on teaching of bush survival skills. Conquering the outback came naturally to Connor, be it mountain or desert. Justin’s rural experiences were confined to the occasional foray into university parklands around Oxford. Connor was also a natural sportsman who enjoyed excellent physical coordination. Justin was not. In the difficult terrain, he rather resembled a stork on ice.
The base of the falls could undoubtedly be reached by following the ridge until it fell away towards the coast and allowed an easy descent. That meant doubling back. Quicker by far would be to scale down the side somewhere close to the falls. This was what Connor intended, using the vegetation for footrests and handholds. Justin didn’t think of this. All he knew was that Maguire had crossed the river at the head of the falls. If he hurried, Justin believed he could reach the bottom on this side, cross over and make it back way ahead of Holly and Maguire.
The rim of the escarpment was deceptive. Connor, who had taken his bearings from a constantly visible high point, could keep well back from the edge without losing orientation. Justin, on the other hand, had to stay close to avoid becoming lost. Stumbling over rocks, slipping on the uneven ground, sweat stinging his eyes, Justin suddenly lost his footing, landed awkwardly and started sliding towards the edge. He lunged out and grabbed a sapling to stop his fall. But the small tree had not yet established itself in the rocky earth. The taproot went down no more than three centimetres, the plant fed by a fine web of lateral roots, some of which spread above ground. With Justin’s weight, the sapling pulled free. Fingers still scrabbling for an anchor, Justin gave a cry of horror when the land beneath him dropped away. There was nothing to hang onto, nothing to stop him. Arms flailing wildly, Justin disappeared over the edge.
He hit the sloping rock shelf ten metres below flat on his stomach, the impact snapping his head forward, nose and teeth taking the full force of the jarring collision. Before he had time to register shock or pain, momentum carried him forward and he plunged, cartwheeling into space, landing on rocks surrounding the first pool before bouncing over the rim to plummet, head-first, into the second. The water slowly changed colour. His head had been split open. Justin was dead before he stopped falling.
‘What was that?’ Holly asked.
‘A bird perhaps.’ Connor sounded doubtful. The call had been high and wild, cut off abruptly.
They waited but did not hear it again. They had crossed the river and were making slow progress around the far edge of the horseshoe. ‘Just a bit further,’ Connor said. ‘Then we’ll try to climb down.’
Holly could hardly wait!
It was impossible to see the bottom. Trees and shrubs obscured the view. Finally, Connor selected a spot. ‘Here is as good a place as any.’
Holly looked over the edge. I can do this, she told herself. A sheer drop of no more than five metres, a ledge that might or might not hold their weight, a couple of boulders below that, then a sloping rock shelf which looked as slippery as it did hostile. After that, what little she could see because of the foliage, appeared to be a reasonably user-friendly, if a little shaly, incline. Holly translated that to mean a crumbling, bush-infested descent into hell. Piece of cake! Oh shit, oh shit! ‘How long is that rope?’ she asked.
‘Long enough. It should get us to the bottom.’ He glanced up as he knelt to secure one end of it around the thick trunk of a tree. ‘Are you okay with this? I’ll go down on my own if you like.’
Holly pulled a face. ‘You have no idea, Maguire, how much I’d love to take you up on that.’ She had butterflies in her stomach. ‘But in the interests of intrepid journalism, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’
‘Have you done any climbing?’
‘Heaps. In and out of bed every day.’ She pointed to the rope. ‘Just make sure that’s tight. I’d hate it to come undone halfway down. It would ruin my day.’
‘It won’t. Trust me.’
‘I do. It’s the bloody rope I’m suspicious of.’
He tossed the other end over the cliff. It slithered down the slope, causing a cascade of small stones – a sinister sound it seemed to Holly. ‘Wait here. I’ll test that ledge first and give you a shout.’ He picked up the rope in both hands, planted his feet on the edge of the escarpment, leaned out and stepped backwards.
Jones, you have to be insane! She heard him curse. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ His voice floated up to her. ‘I’m on the ledge. It’s safe enough, but be careful. There are sharp sticks everywhere.’
‘Super,’ she gritted. ‘Just what I needed.’
‘Want to stay up there?’
‘No way.’ She picked up the rope. Don’t look down. She looked down. Connor’s head was only a couple of metres below. ‘This could take a while.’
‘Take your time. Keep the weight on your feet. Lean out. That’s my girl, you’re doing fine. Now, slide one hand down. Not too far. That’s it. Same with the other. Good. You okay?’
‘Yuh.’
‘Feel around with a foot, Holly. Keep your legs apart and find a new level that will support your weight. Got it? Now bring the other foot down.’
At this rate, Holly felt she might make the ledge by sundown. She kept getting her balance wrong, at one stage dangling helplessly until Connor could talk her back into position.
Holly’s hands were so slippery with fear that she expected the rope would slide through her grasp. Oh, thank God! The feel of his hands on her legs, guiding and supporting, was reassuring. As she descended further, he was able to catch her around the waist and virtually lifted her down to the ledge. The look on his face was speculative. He was clearly having second thoughts about her ability to reach the bottom.
Never having done anything like this in her life, Holly used the rope as a lifeline rather than a safety precaution, gripping too hard and allowing it to rub the soft skin on her palms. By the time she joined Connor on the ledge – quite a substantial shelf as it turned out – both hands were smarting. At this rate, she’d have blisters before she was a quarter of the way down. Connor noticed the damp sheen of nerves on her forehead. ‘Baby, you don’t have to do this.’
Holly leaned against him, mouth dry and heart pounding. ‘I’ll get the hang of it.’
‘You’re a plucky little –’
‘If you say ducky you’re over the side.’
She heard him chuckle. He put his arms around her. ‘I love you, Holly Jones. You will marry me, won’t you?’
Trust Maguire to propose at a time like this! ‘Only if I survive.’
‘You will. I’ll make damned sure of it. Was that a yes?’
She looked up at him. His face was close. A lock of hair had fallen forward and a thin trickle of blood had dried near one eyebrow where he’d obviously run foul of one of the woody plants growing horizontally out of the rocks. Otherwise, he was unscathed and as cool as a cucumber. His eyes were tender and caring.
‘That was a yes.’
He kissed her forehead. ‘Good,’ he said mildly, as though he’d merely been seeking confirmation of something he already knew. ‘Let’s do the next bit.’
‘Is that it? I’ve just said I’ll marry you. Can’t you come up with something better than that?’
Connor smiled and shook his head. ‘I don’t trust you, Jones. You do that thing with your mouth and before I know it, I’m drowning in you. Can’t it wait till we reach the bottom?’
Her foot dislodged a rock that went crashing to oblivion below. It reminded both of them that a crumbling ledge high on an escarpment was probably an inappropriate place for anything other than a brief rest.
Holly eyed the boulders. She didn’t want to think about the sloping shelf, not yet. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Hey,’ he said softly, catching her to him again. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be right there.’
She took a deep breath.
Half an hour later, nearly at the end of the rope and slipping and sliding down the last bit, Holly glanced towards the river. Through a gap in the foliage, she saw a body floating, face down, in a shallow pool of blood-red water.
Her spontaneous cry alerted Connor, who was braced against a sapling just below. ‘What is it?’
‘There.’ She nodded past him. ‘I think it’s Justin.’
He looked. ‘Oh Jesus! That must have been the sound we heard.’
‘Can you get to him? I’ll be okay. You’ll be faster without me.’
Connor disappeared immediately, using only the vegetation to slow his descent. Holly realised just how much she must have slowed him down.
Only a minute or so later he came back into view, running across the rocks towards Justin. ‘He’s dead,’ Connor called up to her. ‘He must have fallen from the top.’
Holly looked upwards. It was a hell of a long way. Connor crossed back to the base of the escarpment. ‘The last bit isn’t too difficult.’
She eased her way towards him, hands on fire but ignoring the pain. The end of the rope seemed like losing a security blanket. She let go reluctantly. Shock over Justin helped her down the last part. She was thinking more about him than the descent. Poor man. He must have been following us again.
Connor caught her to him as she slithered out of control to the bottom. The feel of his hard, strong body was comforting. His arms went around her. ‘I don’t think you should go over there,’ he advised. ‘It’s not very pretty.’
Holly cried a little against his chest. She hadn’t trusted Justin Parker but, strangely, she’d liked him well enough. No-one should die without someone’s tears.
‘What do we do now? We can’t leave him here.’
‘We’ll have to. We can’t move him. The police will have to be informed.’
‘You go. I’ll only slow you down. I don’t mind waiting here.’
‘Are you sure?’
She could see that he agreed, he just wanted to make certain she was okay about being left with Justin. ‘I’m sure.’
‘I’ll come straight back as soon as I’ve reported it. May take a couple of hours, though. Don’t, whatever you do, attempt to get back up on your own. Wait for me, okay?’
‘I promise. You take care.’
He kissed her quickly and was gone. She could hear his progress for about ten minutes then there was nothing but the tinkling water. Holly sat beside the river and listened to the silence. It was as empty as Justin’s soul and just as lonely.
Two hundred and fifty years earlier, give or take a decade, Mauritius was hit by the biggest cyclone in its history. With it came weeks of torrential rain. Rivers, swollen to capacity, burst their banks and fanned out, seeking new and previously unknown ways to the sea. All things being equal, William Maguire’s treasure should still have been safe. Two-thirds of the way down the escarpment, it was well back from the normal volume of water coming over the falls. Even under flood conditions, the treasure remained unscathed. It was in a shallow cave, an overhang of rock protecting the entrance from rain and prying eyes. Only foraging geckos and ants knew it was there.
But William could never have anticipated the ferocity of that cyclone, nor the effects of unrelenting rain on an already sodden island. A landslide caused the Tamarin River to back up for several kilometres above the head of the falls. A wall of rock, mud and trees swelled the water level to ten times its highest known depth before giving up the struggle. Slow at first, then with terrifying momentum, it swept up and sucked in everything in its path until the surging, swirling river finally burst free over the escarpment to plunge earthwards in a mad scramble for the ocean.
Still, the treasure was safe, the overhanging rock acting like a roof over the cave entrance. But as days turned into weeks, the build-up of debris at the base of the falls formed another dam wall and this time the valley below began to back-fill. Foaming, flotsam-filled water eventually reached the cave, flushing out the two small chests, all that was left of William’s treasure. They slid forward and sank, dropping through the water to settle in what was normally the second pool under the waterfall, the same one where Justin now lay.
As the rain abated and the river fell back to its original course, the backed-up water drained away to expose the chests to the relentless pounding of the waterfall. It took time but, first one, then the other, burst open and surrendered its contents. William never knew. He had died of natural causes during the cyclone. Coins and precious stones were swept out of one pool and into the next, until they could fall no further and settled in the river bed. Silt quickly covered all evidence of the fabulous wealth. In time, it might have washed to the sea but that was not to be. The advent of hydroelectricity reduced the flow of the once mighty river to an ineffectual trickle. As the centuries rolled by and fluctuating weather conditions made subtle changes to the terrain, three gold coins worked their way back to the surface.
Holly’s thoughts drifted. Her back was to Justin’s body, she couldn’t bear to look at him. The sun sat directly overhead, burning down and warming the quiet, isolated place that had claimed his life. Something glinted under the water. Holly moved, trying to see what it was. There was another, and another, all lying close together. When she realised what it must be, a great sense of calm descended over her. Kathleen Maguire had said, ‘I have a strong feeling that the treasure and one other are destined to meet.’ At the time, her words hadn’t made sense. The treasure and one other, destined to meet. Justin? Holly left the coins where they were. It would be up to Connor of course, but she had a feeling he would decide that Justin, having paid the supreme sacrifice in his search for riches, should be allowed to keep the secret.
She had no doubt that the remainder of William’s treasure would be in the river. Let it stay there. Let the violence of the past remain hidden and the violence of the present go, at last, in peace. Let the earth embrace that which man had once torn from her.
Holly sighed. She was becoming quite philosophical in her old age!
Connor returned nearly three hours later with the news that a police rescue team was on its way. ‘We have to stay until they arrive.’
Holly pointed out the coins.
He stared at them for a long time. Then put an arm around her. ‘You know, it’s the finding that’s satisfying.’
She nodded, waiting for him to continue.
‘Of course, it might not be William’s. But if it is, the money could do a lot of good.’
‘Could be cursed, though.’
‘I’m not sure about that. Kathleen didn’t seem to think so.’
‘But she sensed evil. Perhaps it was a premonition about Justin.’
‘Maybe.’
He gave her a hug. ‘I’ll write that cheque.’
Holly kissed him long and hard.
Two members of the police rescue team abseiled down the escarpment immediately next to the falls, as casual as you please, as if they were taking a Sunday stroll. Justin’s body was photographed, gently removed from the pool, strapped onto a stretcher and winched up the cliff face. ‘We’ll be down here a while,’ one of the rescuers said. ‘There’s a detective at the top who wants to ask you some questions. Can you make your own way up?’
‘Not a problem,’ Connor assured him.
Holly resigned herself to more pain than she felt she deserved. It was all very well for these bloody fit men. Would it be asking too much for at least one of them to stop and think that not everybody is thrilled at the prospect of scaling a fifty metre death trap?
The going up involved more physical effort than coming down. At least gravity helped on the descent and every step meant she had less distance to fall. Connor alternated between taking the lead and staying behind in case she fell. When they finally made it to the top, Holly felt her lungs were on fire. She had scratches on her face, arms and legs, the skin on both hands was blistered from the rope, and those that had burst were bleeding. Bright red from the exertion and covered in dirt, Holly lay on her back, gasping for breath. To her chagrin, Connor, who had made the climb twice and had worked doubly hard to get her up and down, appeared totally relaxed. It didn’t help either when he said, with very little sympathy, ‘Exercise program for you, Jones. As a matter of some priority.’
‘But I hate all that stuff,’ she complained.
‘Sorry, baby.’
He wasn’t sorry and that pissed her off too. But she was too damned tired to argue.
Detective Rafe Jolliffe, a big bluff man with suspicion in his eyes and scepticism in his voice, questioned them closely. He suggested that for such an isolated spot where tourists seldom managed to go, two people risking life and limb to climb down the escarpment and a third accidentally falling to his death, on the same day, seemed a bit of a coincidence. Especially since the deceased was known to both Holly and Connor.
‘We didn’t know he was following us,’ Holly said.
‘Why would he have been doing that?’ Jolliffe asked.
Holly said the first thing that came into her head. ‘He was jealous.’
‘Of you, Monsieur?’ Jolliffe looked at Connor.
‘Yes.’ Connor had a look on his face that said, Where did that come from?
‘But why did you climb down?’ the detective asked for the second time, having not accepted their first answer that it seemed like a good idea at the time. He nodded to Holly. ‘You are inexperienced. It was extremely foolish.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Connor held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘It’s my fault. I wanted to ask her to marry me. It had to be memorable, different. That’s all.’
‘Ah!’ The man’s intelligent eyes flicked from Connor to Holly. He saw a look pass between them. There was no doubt they were in love. But they were hiding something too. ‘Mademoiselle?’
‘She said yes,’ Connor put in.
Holly actually blushed. As the colour in her face deepened she looked down, embarrassed by Connor’s frank admission.
It crossed the detective’s mind that these two were possibly only trying to conceal a private moment of passion. He was about to put that to them when Holly suggested he check her out with Detective Sham.
Jolliffe looked at her guardedly. ‘You know Sham?’
‘Yes.’
‘How?’
‘Have you heard of Guy Dulac?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sham is investigating him.’
‘What has this got to do with you?’
‘He has been making a nuisance of himself. Sham knows about it and made sure Dulac was aware that he was watching him.’
The detective nodded slowly. ‘I see.’ He thought for a minute, shrugged, and said, ‘I’ll speak to him later today.’ He did not see any reason to let Holly know that Sham was lying in hospital, smashed up, semi-conscious and in no shape to verify anything. But he was encouraged. If this girl believed that Sham would vouch for her then she was probably telling the truth about the dead man. Sham rarely, if ever, misjudged people.
After providing details of where they could be reached, Holly and Connor were allowed to leave. ‘I’ll be in touch if I need any more information. Come to the station in Curepipe tomorrow. You’ll have to sign statements.’ With that, he left them to recover the rope.
‘Jealous?’ Connor was looping the rope around one shoulder.
Holly shrugged. ‘It was the first thing I thought up.’
‘Do me a favour.’
‘What?’
‘Next time you decide to spring a whopper with no warning, just clear your throat or something first so I know it’s coming.’ He put his free arm around her shoulders and they started walking. ‘Better still, try not to do it.’
‘I couldn’t tell him about the treasure.’
‘No,’ Connor agreed. ‘But you could have just said he’d dropped behind us.’
‘Maguire.’ Holly squinted up at him.
‘Yes.’ He knew her now. She was about to zap him with one of her special expressions.
‘Sorry.’
Connor grinned. He didn’t know her that well yet. But he sure as hell was having fun learning.
Back at the car, Holly suggested they have some of the food they’d bought earlier in the day. So far, she had managed to conceal the damage to her hands. Somehow they seemed to reflect her lack of fitness. Okay, so she hadn’t been looking after herself, she knew that, but it was surprising just how taxing the climb had been. Holly would not admit, not even to Connor, just how out of condition she had become. It was a question of pride. The truth of it was she was soft and had been absolutely terrified.
They stood beside the car chewing crusty French bread with cheese. ‘Fancy a little trip tonight?’ Connor asked casually.
‘Where?’
‘Grand Baie.’
‘Reason?’
‘I thought a spot of break and enter would be diverting.’
Holly looked at him. ‘On a certain person’s boat? Haven’t you had enough excitement for one day?’
‘I’m running out of time.’
‘What will you do if you find anything?’
She was silent for a while. ‘You want to tell me about it yet?’
Connor was staring straight ahead. ‘Yuh, I guess I should.’
‘You don’t have to,’ she said gently. ‘Not if it hurts.’
‘It always hurts.’ His voice carried gratitude. ‘But I don’t want secrets between us.’
‘I suppose I should explain about Dennis too.’
‘When you’re ready. I’ve guessed most of it.’
Connor collected his thoughts, then began to speak. ‘Brian was sixteen years older than me. My mother married his father when she was very young. He died of cancer when my brother was eleven. A few years later she married my father and I came along. Brian was like a second dad. He was a sort of hero figure in my life. As early as I can remember we were close, though in fact we didn’t actually see much of each other.’ Connor stopped speaking for a moment, a small frown of recollection between his eyes. ‘Brian was a bit wild, I suppose. He and my father never really hit it off. I think it was resentment that his mother had found someone new to love, though he was always protective of me.’
Holly made no comment, simply watched his face, giving him all the space he needed to assemble a story she was reasonably certain he’d never told in full to anyone else. His words seemed to come with difficulty, from some faraway place of pain. There was reluctance too, a hesitation to revisit memories which had clearly been shut away for so long. She wanted to tell him again that it was all right, that he didn’t need to go on if he didn’t want to, but she sensed he would anyway. The time was right for him.
‘When I was three, Brian moved out. The situation at home had become very difficult. Dad can be pretty stubborn when it suits him. So could Brian. They were never going to get on. As I said, he was wild. No, not wild exactly. He was a loner. And like a lot of solitary people, it seemed as if he was constantly searching for something that would give meaning to his life. He couldn’t settle for anything less than perfect but didn’t seem to know what it was, or how to go about finding it. Brian couldn’t hold down a regular job. He did all sorts of things. One minute working as a barman, the next on a construction site, or driving a taxi. Even applied to Qantas for training as a flight attendant, but they turned him down. That was when he took off to northern Queensland and found work as a jackaroo. My poor mother nearly went mad with worry.’ A small smile of some remembered moment touched his lips. ‘The thing about Brian was that he was utterly charming. My father used to say he could coax a concession out of Margaret Thatcher if he put his mind to it.’
Holly smiled. He’d have to be damned good!
‘He came home for a visit one weekend when I was about twelve. Said he’d joined the army reserve. No-one in the family thought he’d stick with it.’
‘Yes. He’d finally found something he could do and liked doing. He enjoyed the physical side of it and the adventure. The only part he didn’t particularly take to was the discipline, although even that didn’t put him off. Brian loved it so much that after a couple of years he decided to enlist in the regular army.’
‘There’s a niche for everyone,’ Holly said softly. ‘It just takes some people a bit longer than others to find it.’
Connor shook his head. ‘It’s not that simple. The discipline ultimately got to him. Brian was a free spirit, not suited to the full-time rules of army life. It wasn’t long before he was bucking the system at every opportunity. That meant trouble. The army kicked him out.’
‘How long did he serve?’
‘Three years.’ Connor chose his next words carefully. ‘Brian wasn’t a bad person. It’s just that he was . . . not so much easily led as . . . always looking for excitement. If he had seen active service it would probably have been different. He was a natural for Scylla. Army trained, not too bothered by moral ethics, permanently broke and always on the lookout for something exciting. They approached him and he joined up. It was the job he’d been seeking all his adult life. He was tailor-made for it.’
‘Are most mercenaries ex-soldiers?’
‘They tend to be. Scylla has scouts in the armed forces of many countries.’
‘Is Scylla legal?’
‘As far as I know. They keep a pretty low profile. Brian didn’t say much but he did tell me that as far as he was concerned, the difference between Scylla and the regular army was that Scylla always had work. Didn’t matter who it was for. Ethically, I have a problem with that. Brian didn’t. He was entitled to his opinion.’
‘I’m not sitting in judgment of him,’ Holly responded to Connor’s slightly defiant tone.
‘Then that’s something else which makes you unique.’
She laughed softly, lightening the moment. ‘Look, I don’t go along with the concept of guns for hire to the highest bidder but that’s not a personal criticism of your brother.’
Connor glanced at her. ‘Thanks.’
‘I know Brian was killed in the Seychelles. Is that why you’re after Raoul Dulac? Revenge?’
‘No. Brian knew the risks. Whether we liked it or not, the rest of the family had to accept it.’ Connor paused.
She waited.
‘Brian had been with Scylla for several years when he met Emma. She was less than half his age – only seventeen. He fell deeply in love with her.’ Connor broke off another piece of bread. ‘I met her a couple of times. She was beautiful, a real gentle spirit. That was it as far as Brian was concerned. There was a choice to be made, Emma or Scylla.’
‘Is that what she wanted?’
‘Not at all. It came from Brian. His days of acting as if there were no tomorrow had to end. He decided to settle down and spend his life with Emma. I don’t think she actually knew what he did for a living. He’d saved some money and planned to buy a pub in the Territory.’
‘Quite a challenge for a young girl. The Northern Territory is not for the faint-hearted, especially running a pub.’
‘Emma was from Darwin. Territory born and bred. She loved it up there.’
‘And she loved Brian?’
‘Very much. Despite the age difference, they were meant for each other. Emma accepted that Brian was never going to conform and responded to his complete devotion to her. She was a very shy girl. Brian brought her out of her shell. And in turn, she gave him stability, a purpose, and he loved her with everything he had. My brother would have died for her. In the end, he did.’
‘What do you mean?’
Connor cut a chunk of cheese. ‘He tried to resign from Scylla. By then he was quite valuable to them. The men respected and trusted him. His cool head under pressure and field experience made his team an example to the others.’ Connor’s voice went hard suddenly. ‘Enter Raoul Dulac. He needed men to train raw recruits for a coup attempt in the Seychelles. Or so he said. The training would be done in South Africa. What he conveniently omitted to mention was an arrangement that a Scylla unit would also be available to fight. None of the men knew that until the mission was ready to go. My brother was exactly what Dulac had been looking for and he saw to it that Brian’s resignation was rejected.’
‘Surely Brian could have walked away?’
Connor nodded. ‘I suppose so. But don’t forget that Brian still believed it was only a training exercise and must have thought that the money would come in handy. He put up token resistance, but in the end agreed to go.’
‘And was killed because Raoul hid the truth?’
‘I could have accepted that. The mercenary mind is a fairly muddy place where most of us never go. Brian chose his life and we had to respect the way things worked. No, it wasn’t his death that got to me, though God knows the loss was hard enough to accept. That bastard, Dulac, had decided that a little insurance wouldn’t go astray. Brian’s resignation attempt was a worry. He needed him there when the fighting started. It was no secret why Brian intended to leave – men alone together out in the bush, there aren’t many things they don’t know about each other. Dulac found out about Emma and arranged that she be eliminated.’ Connor broke off, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘That’s why I want him,’ he said eventually.
Holly was stunned. She knew Raoul Dulac had very few morals but this was cold-blooded, premeditated murder. ‘You have proof?’
‘Not the kind that would stand up in court.’
‘What makes you think –’
‘I was told. After Brian’s death a colleague, someone who had fought with him, said he’d heard that Emma’s death was no accident.’
‘Quinn mentioned a car crash.’
‘Her vehicle ran off the road for no apparent reason.’
‘Did this friend know any more?’
‘The talk was that Brian’s girlfriend had been taken out on Dulac’s orders. That he had sent a message saying Brian was desperately ill. Emma, as Raoul had hoped, dropped everything to be with him. Brian was supposedly in the hospital at Katherine. It was late but she obviously didn’t want to wait till morning. It’s a four-hour drive from Darwin, nothing difficult. She never arrived.’
‘But there’s nothing to implicate Raoul? Scylla operates from somewhere in Western Australia. How could he have set up the accident from there?’
‘Contacts. It wouldn’t be hard. A telephone call would do it.’
‘This is nothing but conjecture.’
‘True. There are a couple of other things. Brian’s colleague told me something else. A South African at the camp let something slip about Raoul Dulac’s methods. Seems he has quite a reputation throughout Africa. In Angola he was known as Kishi, an evil spirit with two faces. His name in Zaire is Mongo, or the God of Death. Nigerians refer to him as a Bori, a spirit who spreads evil and possesses people, and in the Sudan he is believed to be an Adandara, a wild cat with witchcraft skills.’
‘I still don’t see how –’
‘It’s not just rumour, Holly. I know stories stick to someone like Dulac, and I accept that reputations can grow in this fashion, but exaggeration is usually based on fact. A number of things add up. Emma’s parents confirmed that she received a telephone call from someone calling himself a friend of Brian’s telling her he had been bitten by a snake and was in hospital in Katherine. Later we found out that the hospital in Katherine had never heard of Brian Anderson. Dulac took a call about two hours after Emma left Darwin. He sent for Brian and broke the news of her death in a car crash. At that stage, her car hadn’t even been found. The next day, Raoul was overheard saying to someone, ‘Don’t worry about Anderson, he’ll see it through now. I’ve made sure of it.’ Connor took a deep breath. ‘Other than that, I have no hard evidence.’
‘You’re not likely to find it either.’
‘I know.’
‘So what do you hope to achieve?’
‘Raoul Dulac is a murderer. He might get away with that but he’s also a crook. He must have records, somewhere. I plan to find them and come up with enough to interest the police so that they’ll set up a full investigation. If I can get them to look into him they’re likely to find that, financially, he’s been holding out on Mauritius for years. He must have an offshore bank account, probably more than one, that he sure as hell hasn’t declared. Internal revenue would find that extremely interesting. They’d take him to the cleaners. Dulac’s got to be hurt. And the only way I can think of to do that is through his wallet with a complimentary decade or two in prison.’
‘To pay him back for Emma?’
‘If there’s one reason it would be her. She had just turned eighteen, a kid. We never saw Brian again after Emma’s funeral but he went a little crazy. He became deeply depressed apparently. Knowing my brother, with the one perfect thing in his life snatched away, he wouldn’t have cared less whether he lived or died. He went to the Seychelles in that frame of mind. Raoul Dulac destroyed him.’
Holly remained silent.
‘There’s something else I blame him for. My mother’s heart was broken when Brian died. She hasn’t been the same since. Dulac didn’t just kill Emma and Brian, he took away my mother’s spirit. I hate the man’s guts.’
‘Surely you don’t plan to take him on by yourself?’
‘I’d rather not. I want to see him punished for something – as I said, anything will do. I don’t see much point in stooping to his level to bring it about.’
‘Is that the reason why you set up the shipping deal? Why you’re risking retribution from the Triad?’
‘The shipping partnership was so I could have a closer look at him. That’s when I found out about his relationship with Liang Song. I also discovered that he had one or two illegal sidelines which, if I could get proof, would get him into serious trouble. The deal with Madame Liang was a bit of a coincidence really, but before I knew who I’d be dealing with I agreed to do it anyway. I’d seen first-hand what drugs can do. When I found out who was looking for an Australian connection I thought it highly likely that Raoul would be involved somehow. I jumped at the chance.’
‘If he thinks you’re on to him it could be dangerous.’
‘That’s another risk I’m prepared to take. I’m no mercenary, Holly, but if Dulac decides to come after me he won’t find it easy. I can take care of myself.’
It was no idle boast. His condition wasn’t in question. ‘What’s your intention if you find something on his boat?’
‘Hand it over to the proper authorities.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘Depends what it is.’
‘Will that be the end of it for you?’
‘Yes. If the punishment fits the crime. An arrogant bastard like that would find prison unbearable.’
‘Even there he’ll have the contacts to get even with you.’
‘How will he know it’s me? He has no idea Brian was my brother. And Liang Song confirmed when you were out of the room the other night that Raoul doesn’t know of her expansion plans into Australia. It won’t cross his mind to suspect me.’
‘I hope you’re right, Maguire. You’ll already be dodging the Triads.’
Connor grinned at her sarcasm. ‘I shouldn’t be. The Liang Song sting has been set up in such a way that it won’t occur to her that she’s been double-crossed by me. In fact, I’ve made it look as if Raoul has had a hand in that.’
‘That’s all very well but don’t you think she’ll find it just a tad suspicious that she’s locked up and you’re not?’
‘She’ll assume I’ve covered my tracks.’
Holly wiped a crumb from her mouth, forgetting her hands.
Connor’s eyes opened wide. ‘My God!’
She tried to hide them but he’d have none of it. ‘Show me.’
Holly did, reluctantly. ‘Guess I’m not as tough as I like to make out, huh?’
He cradled her hands in his own. ‘Why didn’t you say? Jesus, Holly! They must hurt like hell.’
‘It looks worse than it is. A soak in Dettol will help.’
Connor pulled her close.
‘Maguire?’ Her voice was muffled against him. ‘Did you mean that proposal?’
He eased her away and kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘Every word.’
‘We haven’t known each other very long.’
‘Second thoughts?’
‘Caution. Our combined track records aren’t exactly impeccable.’
His eyes were locked with hers. ‘I know what I want, Holly. I’ve never been more certain.’
Neither had Holly. ‘When?’
‘When do we get married? Whenever.’
‘Next week? Next month? Next year? Next century? No, on second thoughts, that’s a hundred years away.’
‘Whenever you want.’
‘Are you always this amenable?’
‘No.’
She lay the back of a hand against his cheek briefly. ‘Good. That would be very boring.’
He opened the door of the car. ‘Chemist, Jones. I can’t take you home in this condition. Quinn would kill me.’
‘Connor?’
‘Yeah, baby?’
‘Nothing. I just wanted to hear myself say it.’