On hearing that a licence had been granted to someone else, Gregory was annoyed, but not surprised by the thought that Lacost had got in ahead of him. With a frown, he said, ‘That is most unfortunate. In the hope of securing this treasure I have formed a company with Ratu James Omboloku, the hereditary ruler of the Nakapoa Group ….’
‘I know him, of course,’ General Ribaud put in. ‘A handsome and very pleasant young man. But unfortunately, he is always asking us for funds to help him improve the lot of his people, and we have to refuse him because the money is not available.’
‘It was for that very purpose that the Ratu intended to use his share of the treasure, if we could have got it up. That we should have been forestalled by a group of unscrupulous ex-Colons from Algeria, who will probably dissipate the money on drink and women, makes me see red.’
‘Ex-Colons?’ the General raised his eyebrows. ‘I do not understand. Why should you suppose that such people are involved in this matter?’
‘Was it not a man named Lacost who applied for the licence? But perhaps he made use of a nominee.’
Ribaud shook his round, closely-cropped grey head. ‘I cannot think that the man to whom I issued the licence would act as a nominee for anyone. He is a Brazilian millionaire named Valentim Mauá de Carvalho.’
Gregory sat forward with a jerk. ‘Well, I’ll be damned! I met him in Brazil. Ratu James had gone there hoping to secure his financial backing. But de Carvalho was threatened by these Colons that they would make it hot for him if he put up the money. He told us that his reason for backing out was lack of evidence that there had ever been any quantity of gold in the ship. The records in Antigua show that there was, and later we learned that, and that de Carvalho had already seen them; so he lied to us. I naturally assumed that he had backed out from fear of the Colons. It’s clear now that he’s prepared to risk that, and double-crossed James to do him out of his share. Do you know where de Carvalho is now?’
‘No. He has a fine, seagoing yacht and left in her the day after he obtained his licence; but not, I think, for Tujoa. He said something about making a trip to Tonga.’
‘Do you think it likely that he will return?’
Hunching his broad shoulders, Ribaud spread out his hands. ‘Who can say? The island is as flat as a pancake. It is covered almost entirely with plantations of coconut and banana palms; so there is nothing to see there except one mysterious old arch formed from three huge blocks of stone, and the blow holes on the coast, out of which the water spouts fifty feet into the air. But the new Date Line Hotel is one of the best in the South Pacific. It has an excellent restaurant, a beautiful garden and swimming pool, and it would be difficult to find more willing, happy servants anywhere. Tout comfort, in fact. De Carvalho likes that sort of thing and can well afford to pay for it. While they were here, instead of remaining on their yacht, he and his wife stayed out at the Château Royal. If you enquire of the manager there, he could tell you if, before leaving, they made another reservation.’
When Gregory had thanked him the General said, ‘I trust, mon ami, that you are not engaged this evening. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me.’
Gregory accepted gladly, then returned to his hotel and broke the news about de Carvalho to James. The young Ratu was righteously indignant. After they had discussed the matter for some time he said, ‘Of one thing I am certain. His wife could not have been aware of his treacherous intentions. She is as honest as she is beautiful and had she suspected this she would have found some way to warn me.’
‘If you are sure of that, she might prove a big help to us,’ remarked Gregory thoughtfully. ‘That is, if they do return here or we can somehow get hold of them. No man likes to be shamed in front of his wife; and if he has told her some story about buying you out, there is a chance that we might persuade him to cut you in on the deal, as was originally intended. Anyhow, as I am dining with General Ribaud, you might go to the Château Royal this evening and see what you can find out.’
At seven-thirty one of the Governor’s cars called for Gregory and took him to the Residence. Ribaud was a widower; so they dined alone, and over the meal swapped stories of the desperate times when Paris had been occupied by the Nazis. Later in the evening the conversation inevitably turned to de Gaulle.
‘One cannot help admiring him,’ Gregory remarked, ‘although he is no friend to Britain.’
The General shrugged. ‘What can you expect after the way your people treated him while he was in London? Churchill even refused to let him know the date fixed for the return to France. How would you have felt if, after all those years in exile as the leader of the Free British in Paris, the Prime Minister had invited you to breakfast and told you that at that very moment French troops were already on the Sussex beaches without a single British soldier to represent your Empire?’
‘I’d have felt as mad as a hatter,’ Gregory smiled. ‘But there was a very good reason for that. You know as well as I do that, while the majority of your countrymen who came to England and joined the Free French were animated solely by patriotic motives, there were many bad eggs among them: crooks and adventurers who had nothing to gain and everything to lose if Britain succeeded in defeating Germany. Quite a number of them were completely unscrupulous and were selling to the enemy all the information they could get—and that goes for certain of the officers who held high positions on de Gaulle’s staff.
‘Our people knew that and could have pulled them in, but I don’t have to tell you that in the counter-espionage game the devil you know is less dangerous than the devil you don’t know. Had we arrested them, it is possible that they would have been replaced by others equally treacherous; so the only alternative was to deny de Gaulle and his staff access to all the really important information about our plans.’
‘Are you really sure that this was so?’
‘Certain of it. When I was not on missions abroad I held a cover appointment as a Wing Commander on the Staff of the War Cabinet, and to do my job I had to be in on many secrets. The pity of it is that even after the war, when we were able to tell de Gaulle the facts, he refused to believe us and has remained anti-British ever since.’
‘You must admit, though, that apart from withholding information from him your people treated him very badly. Time and again they refused him permission to go to North Africa and to France, and when he did get back they did their utmost to prevent him from relieving Paris.’
There I agree, but for that you must blame General Eisenhower. And, strategically, he was right in his wish to bypass Paris; then, once he had the Boche on the run, use all the resources he could muster to throw them right back to the Siegfried Line. De Gaulle’s premature dash to Paris wrecked the plan because, once the capital was liberated, its great population had to be fed by the Allies, and the offensive had to be broken off owing to the cost in petrol.’
Ribaud shrugged. ‘Had de Gaulle not acted as he did, Paris would have been seized by the Communists and before long they would have had control of the whole of France. So the matter is arguable. But, if it is any consolation to you, the General’s policy has been even more anti-American than anti-British.’
‘I know, and more’s the pity. Above all, his withdrawal from NATO. If ever there was a dangerous card to play it was that one. Mind you, for many years past it has been my view that China is the great danger and that we have little to fear from Russia. But one never knows.’
‘I think you are right, and for that reason de Gaulle has shown great statemanship in his rapprochement with the Soviet Union.’
Gregory nodded. ‘He also showed it in his conception of combining Europe into a third Great Power block. Federated Europe would have a greater population and more resources than either America or Russia, and would have become independent of the dollar. But he muffed it by keeping Britain out of the Common Market. And, in view of the real menace that China is becoming, could Europe really afford to do without the United States? As I see it, unless a major war is fought to stop them, within another decade the Chinese will have overrun the whole of East Asia and India. Then we will definitely have to fight to defend Australia and New Zealand. For us to have any chance of winning against the Asiatic hordes, equipped with those ghastly modern weapons, there is only one thing for it—a Triple Alliance of the United States, Europe and Russia.’
With a rueful grin Ribaud said, ‘Your reasoning is sound enough, but what a terrible picture you conjure up. So many of old Nostradamus’ prophecies have come true, perhaps the one he made about Paris being destroyed in the year 2000 by a flock of giant, man-made birds coming from the East will too.’
It was one o’clock before Gregory got back to his hotel, so it was not until the following morning that he learned the result of James’ visit to the Château Royal. The de Carvalhos were expected back there on Thursday the 16th, which was in three days’ time.
Earnestly they debated their strategy. Loath as they now were to have de Carvalho as a partner, they could not possibly ignore that fact that he had secured the licence; and Ribaud had made it unmistakably clear that an attempt by anyone else to salvage the treasure would be a criminal act, equivalent to piracy, and so liable to heavy penalties. Therefore, the best they could hope for was to shame the Brazilian into the kind of arrangement that he had tentatively agreed with James in Rio before Gregory had come on the scene. Obviously the nature of the threat would render it futile if it was made in Olinda’s presence, so somehow they must get him on his own, unknown to her.
James, being himself of a very upright nature, found it difficult to believe that any man of de Carvalho’s standing would allow himself to be denounced to his wife as a crook, so considered their chances good. The cynical Gregory was by no means so optimistic, but it was he who had first suggested that use might be made of Olinda’s reactions to what had taken place, and he agreed that the idea would, at least, be worth trying.
The first move was obviously to find out what they could about the way in which the de Carvalhos spent their time while in Noumea, with a view to catching Valentim when Olinda was not with him. James said that the Château Royal was mainly staffed by New Caledonian natives. The latter were of the same Melanesian stock as his own people and, he felt sure, would talk freely to him. So it was decided that later in the day, while Gregory had a stroll round the town, James should pump some of the servants at the hotel.
The Château Royal was only a quarter of a mile further along the road out of town than the Nouváta. Soon after lunch, James set off in the broiling heat, to walk there, in order to catch one or two of the chambermaids and valets while they were off duty. Gregory, meanwhile, enjoyed a siesta, then a swim. When he went to the desk to ask for a taxi to be summoned, a young, brown-skinned New Caledonian was standing there. On hearing Gregory’s request, he turned to him and said:
‘Monsieur, I am from the Tourist Office, and I am about to return to the city. Allow me to offer you a lift.’
Gregory gladly accepted. As they went out to the young man’s car, he introduced himself as Henry Maniquant and asked, ‘Have you been up the height just behind here? If not, I will drive you up before we go downtown. It is well worth a visit.’
Maniquant proved right. Ten minutes’ drive up a broad, steep, curving road brought them to the Naval Radio Station, several hundred feet above the sea. From there the panorama was magnificent. On one side lay the great sweep of Ansa Vata Bay, on the other the Baie de St. Marie. Between them, behind the town, in the low-lying neck of the peninsula, the Stadium, a large, open-air, drive-in cinema and Magenta Airport could be clearly seen. Islands, large and small, were scattered round the coast in all directions, and inland to the north rose range after range of mountains. Gregory had to admit that although New Caledonia lacked the colour of Fiji, it certainly had some magnificent scenery.
On the way to the town young Maniquant proved a mine of information and extraordinarily enthusiastic about his job. Before they parted, he pressed on Gregory half a dozen pamphlets with useful information. Among them was one that Gregory thought must be unique in tourist-attraction literature. It listed over two hundred and fifty French and New Caledonian dishes, giving against each particulars in English of the ingredients.
Gregory had not previously realised that Noumea was by far the largest town in the South Pacific, with a population of thirty-five thousand. Even so, as he strolled in the still-strong, late afternoon sunshine, through streets named after famous French statesmen and Generals, he was surprised to find that the blocks contained many large stores, as well as scores of good shops, restaurants and travel agencies. As in Suva, the majority of the people were dark-skinned; but here there were few Indians, a higher proportion of Chinese and many Indonesians.
By the cocktail hour he arrived back at the Nouváta, where James met him, grinning with satisfaction. He had located the quarters occupied by the de Carvalhos, and had talked to both the floor waiter and the chambermaid who had looked after them. The Brazilian couple had spent most of the days together. During the mornings Valentim sunbathed in the garden while Olinda swam in the sea, then in the late afternoons they went shopping or for a drive in a car. After dinner they always went up to their suite together, but, apparently, Olinda liked to have a last swim before going to bed; so, leaving him there, at about ten o’clock she went down again in a wrap and spent twenty minutes or so in the pool.
‘That provides us with the opportunity, then,’ Gregory smiled. ‘The next thing is to devise a way of catching him in his suite without warning, or any of the hotel people questioning us as strangers when we go upstairs.’
Having thought for a few moments, he went on:
‘I have it. Tomorrow I will move out to the Château Royal and take a room as near their suite as possible, anyhow in the same wing. Then on Thursday, when they are due to return, so that I don’t run into them I’ll pretend that I have a tummy upset and remain in my room all day. You will telephone in the evening to make certain they have arrived, then go out to the hotel about ten o’clock and post yourself in the garden under cover. As soon as you see Olinda come down for her swim, go into the hotel and ask for me. I’ll say you are to be sent up, then the two of us will go along to the suite and catch Master de Carvalho napping.’
After dinner that evening Gregory walked along to the Château Royal and said that he did not like the Nouváta, so wished to move. Then, having rejected two rooms that he was shown, he settled on one which was only two doors from the suite the de Carvalhos had occupied and reserved for their return.
Next morning he made his move and, in daylight, was able to appreciate fully how preferable was the Château Royal to the Nouváta, for those who could afford it. The Château Royal was the only hotel on the sea side of the highway; so the guests had immediate access to the beach. In the main block the spacious lounge and restaurant were glass-walled, so that one could look out to seaward on a tree-surrounded swimming pool and, beyond it to the left, a separate beach bar where people could enjoy snack lunches while still in bathing things. To the right there was another two-storey block consisting only of bedrooms. It was there, on the upper floor, that Gregory had his room. The walls were panelled with toile-de-jouy, the furnishings were elegant, and it had a wide balcony where he could breakfast looking out on the sea.
Having unpacked, he changed into bathing things and went down to the beach. The best part of a hundred people were sun-bathing, drinking at tables under gay umbrellas, or in the sea. There were pedallos and canoes, a speed boat behind which a pretty girl was waterskiing expertly, a big raft anchored a quarter of a mile out, and several small yachts in the distance.
On the debit side, the water was neither so clear nor so blue as in the Fijis, and by no means so warm. But Gregory enjoyed his swim and, having changed back into casual clothes, he went down to the restaurant for lunch. The meal he chose proved a revelation. Only in Paris could it have been equalled, and it hallmarked the Château Royal as the finest hotel in the South Seas. Dinner that night confirmed his opinion.
General Ribaud had told him that if he wished to make some motor trips he had only to ring up and a car would be placed at his disposal. So on the Wednesday he availed himself of the Governor’s kind offer. After a swim, having had two picnic lunches prepared, he picked up James and they set off to see something of the interior.
The island was more than twice the length of Viti Levu, but not so large, as in no place along its two hundred and fifty miles was it much more than thirty miles wide. A long range of mountains, some rearing up to five thousand feet, divided it into two very different types of country. To the west lay great areas of flat, cultivated land; to the east deep valleys and rocky heights running right down to the coast. The roads crossing the Chaîne Centrale were most picturesque, as they passed through forests with, here and there, lovely vistas of waterfalls, reed-covered hills and rugged mountains.
Their French-speaking driver spoke proudly of the immense wealth in minerals that the mountains contained—nickel iron, cobalt, chromium and manganese—but sadly of the many rich crops that used to be grown in the lowlands owing to the exceptionally favourable semi-tropical climate, until the repatriation of the Vietnamese settlers who had farmed them.
Thursday Gregory spent in his room reading in bed, reluctantly supporting the fiction that he was unwell by denying himself the Chef’s superb Terrine Maison. At six o’clock James telephoned him to say that ‘their friends’ had arrived, and he got through the evening with such patience as he could muster. Soon after ten, the office rang him. The Ratu James Omboloku was in the hall asking if he might come up. A few minutes later James reported that Olinda was taking her nightly dip. Together they walked the few yards to de Carvalho’s suite and, without knocking, went in.
Valentim, in a silk dressing gown, was seated at a table studying some papers. At the sound of the door opening, he turned his head. Amazement and consternation showed on his dark features. Coming to his feet, he exclaimed angrily:
‘What the devil are you doing here? How dare you enter my room uninvited!’
‘It is for your own peace of mind,’ Gregory replied quietly. ‘That is if you wish to retain your wife’s respect. There is no need to go into details. But you have double-crossed James here, with the intention of getting the Maria Amalia’s treasure all to yourself. Can you deny it?’
De Carvalho shrugged. ‘Why should I? Business is business. I am simply one move ahead of you, that is all.’
‘What story did you tell your wife?’
‘That is no concern of yours, but I led her to believe that the Ratu had decided to leave the whole matter in my hands.’
‘We will not quarrel with that, or disillusion her—provided you are willing to sign an agreement, as originally proposed, that the Ratu should receive sixty per cent of the value of all treasure salvaged.”
‘Why should I?’ Valentim scowled. ‘I hold the licence, so I alone have the right to salvage the treasure, and the authorities in Revika will protect that right for me until I am ready to exercise it. But I am in no hurry to do that. You may recall that while I was in Rio I was threatened, and I do not mean, by going to Tujoa just yet, to run my head into a hornet’s nest. These people, whoever they are, will learn in a week or two that I have outsmarted them, then leave me a clear field. And that already goes for you.’
‘You do not care, then, if we let your wife know that you are a crook?’
De Carvalho shrugged again. ‘She is aware, from other operations that my friends and I have carried through, that in business there are times when one must act somewhat unethically, unless one wishes to lose money. It has been apparent to me that she has rather a soft spot for Ratu James; so I have no doubt that in this instance she will be annoyed with me. But what more can she do than sulk for a few days?’
Matters had turned out as Gregory had half expected. De Carvalho’s admission that he had been involved in other shady deals, and that Olinda knew about some of them, obviously robbed of any potency the threat to expose him. He preferred to have a scene with her rather than forgo a share of the treasure. Their little plot to force his hand had failed. There seemed no more to be said.
Suddenly the door opened and Olinda came into the room. She was wearing a white swim suit that set off her dark beauty to perfection. In a casual voice she got as far as saying, ‘I left my cigarettes behind….’ Then she caught sight of James, smiled and exclaimed. ‘This is a pleasant surprise! What are you and Mr. Sallust doing here?’
James bowed. ‘Senhora, this is not a social visit. We have come … we have come….’
While Gregory had done all the talking, James had contained his rage, but now he suddenly gave full vent to it.
‘We have come to unmask your husband for the filthy crook he is. Like an innocent I placed myself in his hands, believing him to be a friend. And now, now, see what he has done! In Rio he lied to us, he said there was no evidence that the Maria Amalia carried treasure; yet he had already been up to Antigua and seen the records showing that she had a great sum in gold on board. He pretended that he was no longer interested. But what does he do? He comes to Noumea like a thief in the night and secures a licence to salvage from the wreck. That means the authorities will stop anyone else from attempting to do so. Behind my back he means to take all. He cannot deny it. He is a swindler! A cheat, a dirty cheat!’
As he flung out these accusations, James’ long arm stretched out, indignantly pointing at de Carvalho. His dark eyes had gone black with rage and his great quiff of hair quivered as his head jerked backwards and forwards.
With distended eyes Olinda stared at him: then, as he ceased, she turned to her husband and cried in a shrill voice, ‘Valentim, is this true?’
‘More or less,’ he admitted sullenly. ‘But it is I who am going to risk the money, isn’t it? Not him. He produced the idea. All right. I’ll give him the price of his journey to Rio and a bit over. But cut him in for sixty per cent? Why should I? I’ll be damned if I will.’
‘But, Valentim,’ Olinda’s voice had become hoarse and earnest, ‘you cannot do this. It is robbery. It is as bad as going to his island and stealing valuables while you were a guest in his house. He trusted you. And you lied to me about it. You said he had left everything to you and that you were going to pay him his share when the salvaging was completed. I insist that you give James a fair deal. I insist! I insist!’
Glowering at her with half-closed eyes, her thick-set husband snarled, ‘This is none of your business. Go and have your swim! Get out of here!’
‘I won’t!’ she cried. ‘I’ll not stand by and see you cheat a simple honest man who is worth ten of you.’
De Carvalho ran his tongue over his thick lips then began to bellow at her in Portuguese.
Her beautiful face livid with rage, she screamed insults back at him in the same language.
Suddenly he lost his temper completely. Taking a swift step forward, he smacked her hard across the face with his open hand.
There fell a deathly silence in the room. Olinda stood with her mouth half open, a look of shocked surprise on her face. De Carvalho, his jaw thrust forward, was staring at her. Gregory, his eyes narrowed, waited tensely to see which of them would prevail. For a moment in time they all remained as rigid as statues. Then James erupted.
With the speed and savagery of his forbears, the brown-skinned giant launched himself at de Carvalho. In one movement he grasped him by the neck and under one knee, then swung him high over his head. Before Gregory had the least chance to stop him, he burst through the flimsy mosquito screens, bounded out on to the balcony and hurled the Brazilian over it.
There came one thin, wailing cry, the sound of a heavy thump from below, then again silence.
Wiping the back of one big brown hand across his eyes, James staggered back into the room.
‘My God, man!’ Gregory cried. ‘Are you mad? You may have killed him.’
James gave a gasping sob. ‘The swine! He hit her. I could not bear it. I love her! I love her!’
Olinda’s face suddenly lit up and a spate of words poured from her. ‘So it is true! I hardly dared hope; yet in my heart I knew it. Yes, from the very first moment. But you are so honourable. I feared you would despise me if I confessed my illicit passion for you. Oh, I love you! My wonderful one! I love you too.’
As she spoke, she held out her arms. James seized her in his and began to smother her face with kisses.
Gregory swore and ran out on to the balcony. It was not yet half past ten. Many people were still dining in the restaurant on the ground floor of the main block; strains of music came up from it. Others were strolling in the garden that ran down to the beach. A little crowd of men and women had run over to de Carvalho. They were now grouped round him. One man was half-supporting his limp body.
As Gregory peered over, the voice of an American woman came excitedly from only a few yards away on his right. ‘There he is! Help! Help! Murder!’
Almost immediately a man’s voice followed, ‘No, that’s not him. It was a huge guy.’
Glancing round, Gregory saw two figures beyond the partition that screened off the balcony from its neighbour. Evidently the American couple next door had been sitting there enjoying the cool of the evening, and had seen James throw de Carvalho over.
Ignoring them, he again leaned over the rail. He had to know whether the Brazilian was alive or dead. The crowd round him were exclaiming in several languages, ‘Get a doctor!’ ‘Stand back!’ ‘Give him air!’ ‘We must carry him inside.’ ‘Lucky that he fell on his back and not on his head.’ ‘His right arm’s broken.’ ‘His heart’s all right.’ ‘Just unconscious, eh; don’t wonder the fall knocked him out.’
Turning about, Gregory dashed back into the room. James and Olinda were still embraced and murmuring incoherently to each other between kisses. Seizing them each by an arm, Gregory dragged them apart and snarled at James:
‘You lunatic! This is no time for lovemaking. Thank God he didn’t break his neck. He’s alive, but he may well die from internal injuries. Then you’ll be had for murder. At best you’ll be charged with attempted murder and get four or five years in prison. We’ve got to get out of here. And quick!’
His angry tirade acted like a douche of cold water on the lovers. ‘He’s right,’ Olinda said in a frightened whisper. ‘Oh, my darling, my heart bleeds that you should be in such danger on my account. But you must go. At once. Have you money?’
Gregory nodded. ‘I’ve plenty in my wallet.’
‘This way then.’ She ran to the door. ‘I’ll go down with you and engage anyone we meet in conversation.’
They followed her out into the open corridor that served all the rooms on the upper floor of the block, and down the stairs. At the bottom they came face to face with a waiter. He was wheeling a trolley holding a cold supper for four—evidently a meal ordered by a party that intended to make merry in a private sitting room. At the sight of them running towards him, the man’s mouth opened to give a shout. Before he could utter it, James darted past Olinda and struck him a single blow. He went down like a pole-axed ox.
As the other two ran on, Gregory pulled up short beside the trolley. Already he was thinking ahead. To escape arrest they would have to go into hiding and food might be difficult to obtain. Flinging a bowl of fruit salad and an orange jelly on the floor, he gathered up the four corners of the small tablecloth that covered the trolley, so that all the other food cascaded into the middle, heaved the bundle up and swung it over his shoulder.
At the circular drive outside the front entrance to the hotel, the others had halted to wait for him. Olinda had wrenched a ruby cross from a necklace she was wearing and thrust it into his hand as she said, still breathlessly, ‘Go to the harbour. Go aboard our yacht, the Boa Viagem. Show this to Captain Amedo. Tell him it is my order that he should take you where you wish.’
She did not hear Gregory’s words of thanks, for she had turned away and was again in James’ arms, crushing his mouth with violent kisses. Suddenly she pushed him from her and cried, ‘Go now, go! Tomorrow I will burn a thousand candles. May the Holy Virgin protect you.’
In the drive stood several parked cars. Among them was a tradesman’s Citroen van which had probably made a late delivery. No-one was about. Running to it, Gregory wrenched open the near door and jumped into the driver’s seat. James ran round and scrambled in on the other side. The self-starter whirred, the clutch slid in and they were off.
There came a tense moment as they drove out through the arched entrance to the hotel grounds, but no-one attempted to stop them. James then relaxed, lay back in his seat and sighed ecstatically, ‘She loves me. She loves me.’
Gregory could have hit him for the mess he had landed them in, and snarled, ‘You bloody young fool! You should have bided your time and she would have fallen in your lap. As things are, after this little demonstration of your affection for her, you’ll be darned lucky if you ever see her again.’
‘That cannot be,’ James declared with fatalistic optimism. ‘The gods made us for one another. It is certain that they will smile upon our love. And owing to her we have little to fear. We shall sail away in the yacht.’
Tightening his grip on the wheel, Gregory took the bend opposite the Headquarters of the Pacific Commission at forty-five miles an hour. When they had made it he snapped angrily, ‘You poor boob. With a couple like the de Carvalhos, who do you think the Captain takes his orders from? Him or her? Him, of course, unless she happens to be on the yacht without him. If we showed the Captain that trinket she gave me he’d immediately jump to it that we’d stolen it with all her other jewels, and had thought up a clever plan to make use of him for a quick get-away. It’s all Lombard Street to a china orange that he’d have his crew grab us while he sent for the police.’
Subsiding, James asked dolefully, ‘What then are we to do?’
‘I don’t fancy taking to the mountains,’ Gregory replied after a moment. ‘Our best bet would be to try to find another yacht—or, rather, a small cabin cruiser—with no-one aboard. If we could make off in her, and be well out of sight of Noumea before dawn, we’d stand a fair chance of getting away.’
Five minutes later they turned into Fisherman’s Bay. The waterfront was almost deserted. As they drove past a long line of sheds Gregory noticed one with the doors standing open. Swerving, he drove the van into it. They got out, closed the doors, then walked quickly along to the wharf, to which a number of the smaller boats were tied up. A few of them showed lights, but none of their occupants was on deck. A patrolling gendarme came into view.
‘If we try to hide, and he spots us, we’ll be in trouble,’ Gregory whispered. ‘We’ll just stroll casually past him, talking about anything, but stick to French.’ In a louder voice, he added, ‘Have you ever been to Europe?’
‘No,’ James replied. ‘But I would like to, particularly to England; oh, and of course France. Paris must be wonderful.’
They were just under one of the arc lights when they drew level with the gendarme, so they saw that he was a native. He gave them a sharp look, murmured ‘Bon soir’ and walked on. Two minutes later he was hidden from view behind some sheds. Swiftly Gregory ran his eye over the twenty or more launches that were moored along the quay. Pointing to one about twenty-five feet in length, he said, ‘That looks about our mark. You will make less noise than I should. Slip aboard her and make certain that there is no-one sleeping in the cabin, then check the tanks to see if she has plenty of petrol and water. I’ll keep watch here and give a loud warning cough should the gendarme come back this way. If he does, lie doggo and don’t worry about me.’
While Gregory hauled in the painter, James took off his shoes, then dropped almost silently into the stern of the launch. Two minutes later he called softly, ‘O.K. Come aboard.’ Gregory untied her and joined James on the deck. Going forward he took the wheel, started the engine, and nosed the launch slowly out. A minute later a figure emerged from the cabin of one of the boats that had lights on further along the row, and a voice called:
‘Where are you off to at this hour, Mathieu?’
It was a nasty moment, as Gregory had no idea how well the man who had hailed him knew ‘Mathieu’, and what type of man Mathieu was. But to have failed to reply would have been certain to arouse suspicion, so he took a chance. Praying that his voice would not give him away as a stranger, he called back facetiously:
‘Maybe Marseilles; maybe New York.’
To his relief a laugh greeted his sally. Switching on the navigation lights, he headed at half-speed for the harbour entrance. When they had cleared it he asked James, ‘How far do you reckon it is from here to Tujoa?’
‘About four hundred and fifty miles. As I once told you, it is nearer Fiji than New Caledonia. By rights it should have been included in the Fijis, but it is our misfortune that in 1853 the Nakapoa Group, as well as New Caledonia, came under France.’
‘Do you think you could navigate us to Tujoa? If not, we’ll have to head down the coast here and try to hide up in some lonely inlet.’
James laughed. With his mercurial nature, now that they were temporarily out of danger, he seemed to have forgotten that barely an hour ago he had probably killed a man. ‘Of course. I come of a race of great seafarers. I could take you anywhere in the South Pacific with my eyes shut. As a youth I spent many nights at sea. Even when the stars are hidden I would know my way by the feel of the wind, the look of the water and the smell of the air.’
As the night sky was clear, he had only to look up for a few moments to give Gregory a course. Then he said, ‘The prevailing wind is against us, so it will take us three, perhaps four, days to make it. In these seas there is little traffic, so the danger of our coming into collision with another boat in the dark is negligible. But there are numerous islands and many reefs; so, although we can lash the wheel, one of us must always keep watch. Reefs can be seen at some distance because of the phosphorus in the waves that break over them. We call it “the breath of Daucina”, the great Shark God who is the light-giver and protector of seafarers.’
When the lights of Noumea had become pinpoints behind them, Gregory murmured, ‘So far, so good. Owing to your height, you and I make such a conspicuous couple that the gendarme we passed on the wharf is certain to remember us. I was afraid that soon after we left, a general police alert might reach him, then they would tumble to it that we had pinched this launch and got away by sea, and come after us in a speed boat. But, as they won’t know which direction we have taken, we’ve got far enough now for the odds to be all against their catching us.’
James made up one of the two bunks in the small cabin and split the remainder of the night into two watches. The morning dawned cloudy and by eight o’clock it had begun to rain. On examining their food supply, they found that the things Gregory had whipped up from the trolley had become a glutinous mess, embedded in which were four thick slices of the delicious Terrine Maison, a score of prawns that had been in aspic, and four small birds. With care it would be enough to last them four to five days and if they did run short James said they could always pick up some coconuts and wild bananas from one of the many deserted islands they would pass or, failing that, they could catch fish. The supply of water was also satisfactory, but Gregory had serious misgivings that the petrol would not prove sufficient for so long a voyage.
By midday the sky had cleared and the sun blazed down. Soon the roof of the cabin became so hot that they could not bear to touch it. All through the long afternoon, sweltering and sweating, they alternately dozed and kept watch. Over their evening meal, Gregory asked, ‘Have you decided what to do if and when we reach Tujoa?’
James looked at him a little unhappily. ‘Stay there, I suppose. What else can I do? If I have killed that swine, they will come after me; but my people are loyal and would hide me up in the mountains.’
‘Sooner or later someone would betray you, and the police would run you to earth. Even if you haven’t killed de Carvalho they will institute a search for you and you’ll get a long prison sentence if you are caught. I think the best plan would be for us to go on to Fiji. As that is British territory, they would have to get a warrant to extradite you. They will, of course, if de Carvalho dies; but if he is only injured they may not bother. Once we are in Fiji, too, we could probably get to Manon’s island without being traced and lie up there.’
Putting a long arm round Gregory’s shoulders, James said, ‘Dear Gregory, what a good friend you have been to me. But for you I expect I would already be in prison. Yet you got me away and came with me, when you need not have done. You had no part in my act and Olinda would have sworn to your innocence.’
Gregory laughed. ‘Perhaps, but they would have found out that we were partners; so they might have taken the line that I could have prevented you from throwing him over the balcony, and charged me as an accessory. Anyhow, forget it, dear boy. We are in this thing together.’
On the second day the good weather continued, but Gregory suffered severely from the sun. However careful he was, he had from time to time to expose himself to it: and his face, arms and insteps began to hot up until he knew that he was in for a bad bout of sunburn.
Soon after dawn on the third morning, a wind got up. The sea became choppy and flecked with white horses, then became really rough. They kept the launch head-on to the waves, but it bounded and bucked like a bronco, jarring them badly with each jolt. Spray broke over the boat in sheets and the bilge began to fill with water. Both of them set to baling frantically, but by midday the cabin was awash. In the afternoon the storm eased a little, but about four o’clock the engine sputtered and died. As Gregory had feared might happen, their petrol had given out.
Now the launch veered from her course and was at the mercy of the sea. All that they could do was to keep on baling and pray that the boat might be washed up on an island. James broke out into lamentations about the vulnerability of modern vessels. The Pacific peoples had sailed in safety thousands of miles in their canoes—at one time even carrying out a great migration right through the East Indies and across the Indian Ocean to Madagascar. The Fijians, Tongans and his own people, he said, had long been famous as canoe-builders and their catamarans—big double canoes spanned by a deck with a palm-thatched house on it—were more comfortable to voyage in than anything short of a large, modern pleasure yacht. King Thakobau had once owned such a double canoe, one hundred and two feet long and eighteen feet wide, which he had presented to King George of Tonga.
But James’ unhappy grumblings did nothing to lessen Gregory’s anxiety. It seemed certain now that, unless the sea went down before nightfall, the launch would sink. Then, just as the sun was setting—a great orange ball on the horizon—they sighted and island. Ten minutes later it became certain that they were being carried towards it.
Darkness soon shrouded the scene, but fewer waves were now breaking over the boat and the stars came out. There followed an anxious two hours, then ahead of them they sighted a line of breaking surf. Some way behind it the island loomed up. The lights of the launch were still working, and Gregory switched them on. Had the engine not failed, they might have manœuvred the boat until they found a gap in the reef, but she had no steerage way. As they were swept towards the reef, the waves pounding on it seemed to become higher until they towered overhead. Then came a grinding crash. The boat splintered to pieces on the rocks and they were both thrown into the sea.
As they came spluttering to the surface, they found that they were inside the reef and in calm water. Having called to each other, with infinite relief they swam for the shore. It was about a quarter of a mile away and they had only covered a third of the distance to it when, from the beach, a searchlight flashed out and began to sweep the lagoon until it focused on them. The lights of the launch had evidently been seen. Joyful at the thought that help was at hand, they redoubled their efforts and staggered ashore.
On the beach a soldier with a Sten gun was waiting to receive them. In a language of which Gregory understood a little, but James had never heard spoken, the man called out something and motioned to them to put up their hands. Surprised and breathless, they obeyed. Signing to them to go ahead of him, he marched them along the beach towards the searchlight. About a hundred yards before they reached it they were met by an officer at the head of a group of soldiers. In halting French the officer asked their nationality and where they had come from.
‘We are British,’ Gregory replied; and, in the hope that they would be sent on there, he added, ‘We come from Fiji.’
‘This island is forbidden to all persons,’ said the officer harshly. ‘You are under arrest.’ Then he signed to a Sergeant and two men to escort them away along a path that led inland through the jungle.
As they moved off, James turned to Gregory and asked in a puzzled voice, ‘What do they mean to do with us? Who are these people, anyway?’
‘What they will do with us, God alone knows,’ replied Gregory grimly, ‘or how they come to be here. But these men are Russians.’