It was a shattering blow. They had escaped from Noumea on the night of February 17th and it was now Monday, April 18th. For eight weeks and four days they had been subjected to constant anxiety about their future, and either imprisonment, ‘with its accompanying hardships, or the danger of losing their lives. And all for nothing. Here they were back again where they had started; they might just as well have given themselves up two months earlier. Into Gregory’s mind flashed the awful question—Was de Carvalho dead or alive? For if he was dead James would go to the guillotine.
The Robertsons were still standing nearby. Their surprise overcome. Loyalty to comrades with whom they had shared great perils came uppermost in their minds. In atrocious French Willy cried belligerently:
‘Hi, what’s all this? Must be some mistake. Mr. Simonds and Johnny Olourna are as straight as any men I’ve ever met. They can’t be criminals.’
‘That’s right,’ Frank backed him up. ‘You’re on to the wrong men for sure.’
A white Sergeant had joined the coffee-coloured gendarme. Now he said abruptly, ‘I cannot think there is a mistake. My man here saw the fugitives on the dockside under a strong light just before they made their getaway in a launch they stole. Anyhow, I’m taking his word for it. And their names are not Simonds and Olourna but Sallust and Omboloku. This is none of your business, so you had better keep out of it.’
Gregory raised a smile for the brothers. ‘He’s right about our names. No use denying it. But we haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. I’m only sorry that we should have to part like this when we’d been looking forward to celebrating with you.’
‘I’m sorry, too.’ Willy shook his head. ‘Still, if there is anything we can do to help, let us know. We’ll be staying at a little pub called the Maritime until we can collect the insurance on our schooner and buy another.’
When he had thanked them and the brothers turned away, Gregory, acutely anxious to learn if de Carvalho was alive or dead, asked the Sergeant with what they were to be charged.
The Sergeant, a surly man with a walrus moustache, replied, ‘You’ll learn that when we get to Headquarters.’ Then, tapping his pistol holster significantly, as an indication that he would use his weapon should the prisoners attempt to escape, he told the gendarme to lead them away, and followed a few paces in the rear.
As they walked along the wharf, Gregory was thinking bitterly of the plan that he and James had made soon after the Captain of the frigate had told them they were to be landed at Noumea. They had counted on the hue and cry for them having, after more than two months, long since died down. James was to have taken a room under his assumed name at some small inn and pretended illness so that he could remain there while Gregory used some of his dollars to arrange for them to be smuggled out on a ship leaving for Australia or New Zealand, from either of which they could fly back to Fiji. Even if it took him several days to find a ship he had thought that, provided they did not go into the better part of Noumea, the chances against their being recognised were a hundred to one; yet they had hardly stepped ashore when they had had the extraordinary ill-fortune to come face to face with the one gendarme who could identify them.
At Police Headquarters, despite Gregory’s protestations, they were locked into separate cells, still with no charge being made against them; and the suspense of being left in ignorance was well-nigh intolerable. Until he knew the worst they had to face, he was at a loss to formulate a line of policy. He could only take a little comfort from the thought that here in Noumea French law would ensure James a fair trial, and that he himself had the means to employ the best Counsel available to defend his friend.
About himself he was not particularly worried. Although he might be censured for not having prevented James from throwing de Carvalho from the balcony and, as James’ partner, be thought to have tacitly condoned the act, it could certainly not be proved that he had inspired the deed or played any active part in it.
He would, of course, be charged with stealing the launch, but, as with so many hazards in life, money counted. Very rich men do not steal launches, although they may, in certain circumstances, borrow them without permission. His defence would be that he had done so, intending to return the launch from Fiji with handsome compensation to her owner for having been temporarily deprived of her. As she had been wrecked, he would, naturally, offer to pay her full value in addition; so he thought it as good as certain that he would be let off with a fine.
James’ chances depended, he felt, on the line the prosecution took. If it was known that they were partners and had conspired to catch de Carvalho on his own to call him to account for cheating them, matters might go very badly. It would be argued that, having failed to get satisfaction from the Brazilian, with or without Gregory’s approval, James had avenged himself by attacking de Carvalho with intent to murder him.
On the other hand, should the truth be accepted—that James was in love with de Carvalho’s wife and, on seeing her husband strike her, had temporarily gone berserk—then it could be hoped that the well-known leniency of French courts in cases of le crime passionel would be exercised. But to prove that would require Olinda’s presence as a witness. And where was she? Whether de Carvalho was dead or alive, having no reason to believe that James would return to Noumea, it seemed very unlikely that she would have remained there for over two months. Even if she could be produced as a witness at the trial, James would be found guilty of murderous assault, so the least he could expect was a sentence of several years.
At length, after nearly three hours of agonising suspense, the prisoners’ cells were unlocked and they were conducted to the office of a Police Inspector. They then realised the reason for the delay in charging them. In the office, as well as the Sergeant and the gendarme, was the waiter from the Château Royal whom James had knocked down and whose trolley of food Gregory had looted. Evidently the police had been searching for him to support the gendarme’s identification. Delighted at now having the chance to get his own back, the grinning waiter eagerly said his piece.
The prisoners were then charged—James with having assaulted de Carvalho with intent to murder, and with assaulting the waiter; Gregory with having been an accessary before the fact and having stolen food from the Hotel Château Royal; and both of them jointly with having stolen the launch of one Mathieu Serieu.
With intent to murder was, for both James and Gregory, the salient point in the indictment. Evidently de Carvalho was not dead. With a gasp of relief James exclaimed, ‘Monsieur de Carvalho! He is alive! How seriously was he injured? Where is he now?’
‘He was in hospital for some time, then he rejoined his wife at the Château Royal and spent a month or more there, convalescing,’ replied the Inspector. ‘Where he is now I have no idea. He and his wife left Noumea in their yacht about ten days ago.’
That Olinda could not be called to give evidence was a pity, but that was far outweighed by the fact that de Carvalho had survived. With a smile Gregory asked the Inspector if they might have legal aid for their defence.
‘Certainly, Monsieur,’ the Inspector nodded. ‘Do you know of a good avocat here in Noumea, or would you like me to recommend one?’
‘I would prefer it,’ said Gregory quietly, ‘if you would be good enough to provide me with pen and paper, so that I can write a line to General Ribaud and ask his advice. It so happens that he is a very old friend of mine.’
Gregory had long since learned that, while name-dropping without cause is regarded as a social gaffe, there are times when it can achieve most valuable results. Such was the present. Perceptibly, a new note of respect crept into the Inspector’s voice. Of course he would oblige with writing materials, and if there were any other requests Monsieur Sallust cared to make they would receive due consideration. He even smiled and added that, the beds in the cells not being so comfortable as those in the Château Royal, extra pillows might be acceptable, and that if the prisoners cared to pay, no objection would be made to their sending out for wine to drink with their evening meal.
Back in his cell, Gregory felt very much happier about the situation. De Carvalho, praise be to the gods, was still alive and now clearly in no danger of dying as a result of his injuries. But James was still facing a charge of attempted murder. The mention of Ribaud had nullified any possibility of police hostility; but meant no more than that, while in prison, he and James would enjoy certain small comforts that they might otherwise have been denied. The real nub of the matter was, could Ribaud in some way be manoeuvred into secretly influencing the court in James’ favour?
That a Governor General was in a position to do so the cynical Gregory had no doubt at all. There were, of course, limits to which any high official of a non-totalitarian State could go; and in a democracy no upright judge would have acceded to a request to set free a man proved guilty of murder. But if he could be convinced that political expediency required that he should turn a blind eye to some lesser crime he might feel that it was his patriotic duty to do so.
Gregory had no illusions that out of friendship for him Ribaud would agree to procure a verdict in James’ favour. In some way pressure had to be brought to bear upon him. The question arose: how could that be done?
For the moment he contented himself with writing a letter to Ribaud, simply saying that the General had perhaps been informed that he and the Ratu James Omboloku had returned to Noumea, been arrested and were now in prison; but during their absence they had obtained some information which might prove of considerable value. He then requested a private interview with the General so that he might discuss the matter with him.
The following day, late in the afternoon, Gregory was taken to the Residence. Ribaud received him in his office, told his escort to wait outside, invited Gregory to sit down, then offered him a cigarette and said:
‘Mon ami, I was much distressed to learn of the situation in which you find yourself.’
Gregory smiled. ‘Mon Général, I thank you for your concern for me. But I am not particularly worried about myself. I had intended to return Monsieur Serieu’s launch to him with a handsome sum as compensation for having borrowed her. As she was wrecked that is now impossible, but I am in a position to offer him so large a sum for her loss that I feel confident he will agree not to prosecute.’
Making a little grimace, Ribaud remarked, ‘I would that I were rich enough to think nothing of parting with a year’s pay, for that is about what such a transaction would cost me.’
Into Gregory’s mind there flashed the thought that this might be an indication that his friend was open to the offer of a heavy bribe. Knowing that the French Government was by no means lavish in the payment of their officials, the idea had already occurred to him; but, believing Ribaud to be a man of integrity, he had dismissed it, on the grounds that if such an offer was taken as an insult, the results could prove disastrous. Meanwhile the General was continuing:
‘One can hardly suppose that Serieu will be such a fool as not to accept. But stealing a launch is only a minor matter and, no doubt, with a few hundred francs you can also pay off the waiter whom the Ratu assaulted. There still remains the more serious charge of being an accessary before the fact to attempted murder.’
‘True. But that I can refute by proving that I am not guilty.’
‘When de Carvalho was sufficiently recovered he made a statement to the effect that he had got the better of you and the Ratu in a business deal, and that the two of you surprised him in his room, with the deliberate intention of revenging yourselves upon him.’
‘That is only partially true. We went there to remonstrate with him, but with no thought at all of doing him an injury. By the by, I have not yet heard what injuries he did sustain.’
‘You were very lucky, for his neck might well have been broken. As it was his fall was slightly checked by his crashing through the branches of an oleander bush before he hit the ground. He broke an arm and two ribs, and hit his head on a stone, which rendered him unconscious. After a fortnight in hospital he was over the worst, then he stayed on here convalescing until about ten days ago.’
‘I see. And did his wife, the Senhora Olinda, make any statement?’
‘No. Had you and the Ratu been caught, she would naturally have been called as a witness at your trial. But as you had both escaped, there seemed no point in bringing her into the matter.
‘Well, she is the key to the whole business. Having reproached de Carvalho for double-crossing us, we disclosed to her that her husband was a crook. She took our part and abused him, then he lost his temper and smacked her face. It so happens that young James is desperately in love with her. As you can well imagine, he saw red. Before I had a chance to stop him he had picked up de Carvalho and chucked him over the balcony.’
‘Do you swear to the truth of this?’
‘Yes, and the Ratu will, of course, take full blame for his act.’
‘In view of the grudge you both held against de Carvalho, the court may not believe you. They may also take the view that the Ratu, knowing that he will be found guilty in any case, stands to lose nothing by protecting you and taking the whole blame upon himself.’
‘Mon cher Général,’ Gregory spread out his hands, ‘I pray you, consider the matter in the light of your knowledge of me. Had I decided to beat up someone against whom I had a grudge, let alone murder him, am I the sort of man who would go about it in such a fashion? Having, by the exercise of extreme caution, come through innumerable dangerous situations during six years of war, is it likely that I should revenge myself on an enemy in such a way that I could not possibly escape having the crime laid at the feet of myself and my friend?’
‘No; you have something there. Of course such an idea is absurd.’
‘Besides, if need be I shall demand to be let out on bail until the Senhora Olinda can be found and brought back here, or a sworn statement taken from her. As a key witness for the defence, the court could not refuse to secure her testimony, and I have no doubt at all that she will exonerate me.’
Ribaud nodded. ‘You are right. But it may not be necessary. If I go into court myself and give evidence that, in view of my personal knowledge of your past, it is inconceivable to me that you would have committed such a clumsy crime, I don’t doubt that it will be accepted.’
Gregory gave a little bow. ‘That is most kind and I should be deeply grateful to you.’
‘Not at all. I think, then, we may regard you as good as cleared. But there remains the Ratu. After what you have told me I am sorry for the young man, but even your ingenuity will, I fear, prove insufficient to save him from a heavy prison sentence.’
For a moment Gregory was silent, then he said, ‘Mon Général, you will recall that in the note I sent you I mentioned that, during our absence from Noumea, James and I had chanced upon certain information of value that I wished to discuss with you.’
Ribaud’s arched eyebrows lifted, wrinkling his forehead. ‘I took that only as a pretext to secure this private conversation with me.’
‘By no means. I have not yet disclosed to anyone the name of the island on which the launch was wrecked—it was Yuloga.’
In the silence that followed one could have heard a pin drop. The General remained poker-faced, but a hard note had crept into his voice when, at length, he said, ‘I see. Well, what of it?’
‘Only that previously I had been under the impression that it belonged to France.’
‘It does. It is a dependency of New Caledonia, and comes under my jurisdiction.’
‘How strange, then, that it should now be garrisoned by Russian troops.’
The General frowned. ‘In that you are mistaken. There are, of course, a number of Russians there—technicians who, under an agreement made by General de Gaulle in Moscow, are assisting us with the development of our nuclear weapons.’
Gregory shook his head. ‘Mon cher Général, it is clear to me that you have been misinformed. Ratu James and myself spent two months illegally detained as prisoners on the island. The story of how we, with two Australians and two Melanesian natives, succeeded in escaping is quite an entertaining one. I must tell it to you some time, over a good dinner. But preparing our escape took many nights. During that time we explored a good part of the island. We discovered that the native population had been evacuated—no doubt for security reasons—that there were at the least a thousand Russian troops stationed there and—er—I did see one French Captain. Most interesting of all, one night I looked down into a valley where several I.C.B.M.s had already been set up, ready for launching—and they were guarded by Russian sentries.’
Ribaud’s frown had become a threatening scowl as he demanded, ‘What are you trying to tell me?’
‘Only that I have formed the impression that, in exchange for valuable information about the construction of nuclear weapons, General de Gaulle has, in effect, made over the island of Yuloga to the Russians, so the Soviet Union now has a base of incalculable value in the South Pacific.’
‘That is not so,’ the General declared stoutly. ‘You can have seen only a part of the island. I have ample troops there and it is still under French control. General de Gaulle would never surrender French territory to a foreign Power, and the warheads to those rockets are in French hands.’
Matters were not going quite as Gregory had hoped. His private belief was that Ribaud was lying, but he replied suavely, ‘Naturally, mon ami, I accept your word for that, but you must forgive me if I incline to doubt whether others would do so.’
‘You intend to inform others, then, of what you saw while on Yuloga?’
‘I admit to having considered doing so.’
‘Such a disclosure, if wrongly interpreted, could prove highly embarrassing to France. I may feel it my duty to take certain steps.’
‘I appreciate that. But however high you rate the security of this tie-up with the Russians, I hardly think you would go to the length of having me shot.’
‘No; no! God forbid! But as you have obtained knowledge of a military secret of the first importance, I could treat you as a spy and have you clapped into a fortress.’
‘You could,’ Gregory smiled, ‘but for how long could you keep me there? You know well that I make no idle boast when I say that I have escaped from captivity a dozen times. If you did put me to such inconvenience you may be certain that I would blow the gaff immediately I got out. Whereas.…’
‘Whereas what?’
‘Well, I have given much thought to the situation. Were I in the employ of the British Government it would obviously be my duty to report what I know. But, as a private citizen, it is a matter between myself and my conscience. Having weighed the pros and cons, I have come to the conclusion that the Russians possessing a base in the South Pacific—or perhaps I should say being established in one—with intercontinental ballistic missiles, is no danger to Britain. If they wished they could menace Britain from much nearer home. Of course, it brings them within easy range of Australia and New Zealand; but Australia has her own rocket range, so could give as good or probably better than she got. However, the salient point is that there is little likelihood of the Soviet Union and the British Commonwealth going to war in the foreseeable future.’
‘I concur in that,’ said the General, looking slightly less antagonistic. ‘And, that being the case, the information you have obtained would not cause great resentment in London.’
‘No, probably not. But it would in Washington. The Americans still regard Russia as very much a potential enemy. At the idea of France’s having given the Russians a rocket base—I am sorry, I meant receiving visiting troops—in the South Pacific, the roof would blow straight off the White House. And the United States being Britain’s ally, I have to consider whether I can really justify keeping this information to myself.’
Ribaud glared, then grunted. ‘What’s your price?’
‘Cher ami!’ Gregory raised his eyebrows in pretended surprise. ‘I fail to understand you. We are simply discussing the dictates of my conscience. As I was about to say, when I had the pleasure of dining with you some nine weeks ago I expressed the opinion that the Power really to be dreaded by the Western world was China, and that our only hope of definitely containing this huge and dangerous Asiatic people lay in an alliance between the United States, Europe and the Soviet Union.
‘Should this come about and a war with China be forced on the Western Allies, what could be more fortunate than that the Soviet Union should not only have rocket bases in Manchuria, to the north of China, but also to the south—in the Southern Pacific. In the past the State Department in Washington has not distinguished itself by its foresight. Clinging to the doctrines of the French Revolution, which were so acceptable in the United States when they were born, they are still obsessed by the idea that every people is entitled to self-rule. So blind are they that men like Foster Dulles did their utmost to undermine the power of their most reliable ally, the British Empire. During the years following the war Britain, financially, stood naked in the breeze. Without the support of the almighty dollar we could not have carried on. Dulles, and others of his kind, used that to force us to give independence to many of our subject peoples who were totally incapable of governing themselves. Only now, when it is too late, are they regretting their stupidity. Since the Americans were incapable of foreseeing that their policy would lead to the loss of a million lives in India alone, and to anarchy, or the setting up of police States, in Africa, I cannot believe that they will appreciate the possible long-term value of the Russians being given facilities in the South Pacific. But you and I, mon ami, come of older nations more experienced in statescraft. It is on these grounds that I have decided that it would be a great mistake to let the Americans know anything about what goes on in Yuloga.’
Ribaud mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘I follow your reasoning, and it is sound, but I’m damned if I know what you are driving at.’
‘Surely it is obvious that, having squared matters with my conscience, my wish is to assist you in maintaining security concerning this operation?’
‘I appreciate that. And by agreeing not to disseminate this information you take a great load off my shoulders. I am most grateful to you.’
‘Ah.’ Gregory gave a sigh. ‘But, alas, the matter does not end there. I was only one of six people who were imprisoned on Yuloga and escaped from there.’
Again anxiety showed in Ribaud’s eyes. ‘You mean those two Australian may give everything away?’
‘Not everything. They will no doubt tell their friends that there are Russian troops on Yuloga and that they were held prisoner by them, but they did not see the I.C.B.M.s and they have no idea that the Russians have set up rockets there which could be blasted off at any moment. That is the really important thing. And, of course, the same applies to the two Melanesians. However, there remains James. After all, he is my friend and was my trusted companion throughout this unhappy experience. You can hardly blame me for having told him everything that I discovered during my midnight explorations.’
‘Can you persuade him to keep his mouth shut?’
Gregory shrugged. ‘It is not a question of whether I can or can’t. When he is brought to trial, our having stolen the launch and what happened to us afterwards is bound to emerge. He will be under oath to tell the truth. You cannot expect me to ask him to perjure himself. I hope that I have made plain the situation.’
‘Mon Dieu, you have!’ Ribaud snarled. ‘You damn’ clever devil! Now we know where we are. You have come here to blackmail me. If the Ratu is sent for trial, security is to be blown wide open. We’ll have those damn’ Yanks creating hell, and it may lead to an international incident.’
‘Now, now, mon vieux,’ Gregory laughed, ‘do not be so irate about it. I am only doing my best to protect my friend, and you would do the same in similar circumstances. The Brazilian deserved all he got and was lucky to get off so lightly. To imprison the Ratu for several years can do France no earthly good. To bring him to trial could result in God knows what trouble; as a small incident in which you would probably lose your job for having failed to see the wisdom of blanketing the whole business.’
‘What, then, do you suggest?’
‘That you should send for your Chief of Police, tell him that this is a matter of high policy, have him arrange that James and I should escape, then have us flown to his island of Tujoa.’
Suddenly Ribaud’s attitude changed and he smiled. ‘You old villain. You have got the better of me. But your reasoning is sound. On the greater issue it is the best course to pursue. Very well, it shall be done.’
Gregory smiled back. ‘Thanks. And I am sure you will admit one thing. I have made no attempt to bribe you.’
‘No. And I am glad you did not, for I would have greatly resented it.’
‘I thought as much. But now that we have settled matters I should like to ask you a favour.’
‘What is it?’
‘When we dined together you told me that you were due to retire next year. And I gather that you are not very well off. I, on the other hand, am very rich. I would like to have the address of your bank in Paris, so that I may pay into it a sum equal to that which I shall have to pay Serieu for his launch. It would at least buy you a magnificent automobile. This, you understand, is just a friendly gesture from one ancien de la guerre to another.’
Ribaud beamed. ‘Mon vieux, mon vieux, this is true generosity. If you wish it, you and the Ratu shall have an aircraft apiece in which to be flown out.’
‘Thanks,’ Gregory waved a hand in cheerful protest, ‘but one will be enough. What I do need, though, is a good lawyer to negotiate a settlement with Monsieur Serieu for the loss of his launch, and to arrange compensation for the waiter. I have ample funds in the United States, but I shall need my cheque book on that account.’
‘The police will have taken charge of all the items that you and the young Ratu left in your hotels, so at the proper time the cheque book can be given to you. For the other things you will have to wait, since we must proceed with great caution in this matter. Even Governors General cannot obstruct the course of justice with impunity and your escape will be by no means easy to arrange.’
‘That I appreciate, and if it will make things easier for you the Ratu and I must put up with spending a week or two in prison.’
‘No, a day or two should suffice. Tomorrow you will be brought before a magistrate. You will, of course, reserve your defence. I will instruct my lawyer, Maître Dufour, to appear for you. Afterwards you will ask him to visit you in your cell and brief him about Serieu and the waiter. Then somehow we must get you out as soon as possible; otherwise there would be a risk of your being brought to trial, and that must be avoided at all costs.’
‘Do you think that our escape will cause a great stir?’
‘It would if de Carvalho were still here. He would be certain to raise a stink, but fortunately he will not learn for weeks, if ever, that you returned here and were arrested. Luckily, I can trust our Chef de Police and my Commandant de I'Air to co-operate with me when I have explained that this must be done to avoid an international incident. But subordinates will be needed, and I can only pray that they will choose their men wisely. Should one of them betray us, we shall all be in the soup.’
‘I appreciate the risk you are running for us,’ Gregory said gravely, ‘but there is one way in which I can show my gratitude. Should we be betrayed and the escape fail, there will then be no avoiding the Ratu’s being brought to trial. On his behalf I give you my word that if there is a trial neither of us will mention that we know there to be I.C.B.M.s under Russian control on Yuloga.’
Ribaud nodded. ‘That is generous of you. And now, much as I should like to offer you a glass of wine, I must refrain. It would not do for your escort waiting in the corridor to get the idea that we have been fraternising.’
‘I agree. Now that we have settled everything, it remains only for you to give me the address of your bank in Paris, then I am ready to be taken back to prison.’
The General gave it then, as Gregory repeated it three times, stood up. The two old friends shook hands. Ribaud sat down again and struck a bell on his desk. When the escort entered the room he gruffly dismissed the prisoner and half an hour later Gregory was back in his cell.
On the Wednesday morning he and James were brought before a magistrate. They had not seen one another since they had been charged, and the young Ratu looked greatly depressed; but Gregory found a chance to whisper to him:
‘These proceedings will be only a formality. Plead not guilty and say nothing else whatever. You must refuse to talk, too, should a Juge d’Instruction visit you later in your cell to prepare a case for the Prosecution. Leave everything to me and don’t worry too much. I think I have found a way to get you off.’
James gave him a grateful glance and followed his instructions. At the court they were met by Maître Dufour. The avocat was a tall, grey-haired man wearing old-fashioned pince-nez. In a private room Gregory gave him particulars of the situation; then offered him a handsome fee to take their case, and he smilingly agreed. The proceedings in court took only a few minutes; after which the prisoners were taken back to Police Headquarters. That afternoon Gregory was led from his cell to a sparsely-furnished room in which Maître Dufour was waiting to interview him. With him, the lawyer brought Gregory’s cheque book.
Having dealt with the claims of Serieu and the waiter, Gregory said that James would ask for the case to be treated as a crime passionel. Dufour then said he would like to have James’ own account of the affair, but Gregory fobbed him off by saying that it would be preferable to leave that for a few days until the Ratu was in better shape, as, at the moment, the thought of his impending fate had caused his mind to become temporarily disturbed.
Later that afternoon a Juge d’Instruction questioned both of them. Gregory again gave the true story, but James, as instructed, refused to talk. Back in his cell, Gregory could now only wait and hope that Ribaud would succeed in arranging their escape without compromising himself, and that they would get away safely.
At ten o’clock that night an Inspector whom Gregory had not previously seen came to his cell and said abruptly, ‘Now that you have been committed to trial, in accordance with usual practice, we are transferring you from this headquarters to the prison. Come along now.’
In an outer office Gregory found James, already handcuffed to one gendarme. He was handcuffed to another, then the Inspector led the way out to a large car. The gendarmes and their prisoners got into the back, the Inspector took his seat beside the driver, and the car moved off.
They had covered about a mile and were passing through a slum quarter when a lorry emerged without warning from a side turning. Their driver sounded his klaxon, then gave a shout. Next moment the police car hit the lorry amidships and, with a grinding crash, came to a halt. This, Gregory instantly realised, was it.
Even before the gendarme to whom he was handcuffed had said in a swift whisper, ‘Out you get and pull me after you,’ he had his free hand on the handle of the door. Turning his head, he shouted to James, ‘Get out. Pick up your man and carry him if necessary. Then follow me.’
Pandemonium followed. The lorry driver, the Inspector and his men were all shouting. Gregory was no sooner in the road with his gendarme staggering after him than the man said, ‘Quick; down that alley opposite.’
Gregory dived into it, dragging the gendarme, who put up only a token resistance, after him. James was hard on their heels, the gendarme to whom he was handcuffed slung over his shoulder. The Inspector had jumped from the car and drawn his pistol. Had the escape been unplanned, he might well have hesitated before firing at the fugitives, for fear of hitting one of his men. To the few onlookers who were about, he appeared to chance that, but actually sent three bullets swishing over their heads.
The end of the alley was crossed by another. Turn right, then left,’ gasped the man Gregory was dragging along. It was dark there and as they pulled up, the gendarme said with a laugh, ‘You boys in the Deuxième Bureau certainly lead exciting lives.’
‘So that’s who old Ribaud has said we are,’ Gregory thought gleefully. ‘Damned clever of him.’ By then his companion had got from his pocket the key of the handcuffs. As he unlocked himself from Gregory, he said, ‘You and your big friend are supposed to have knocked us out. Run on for a hundred yards and you’ll find a car—a blue Citroën. It will take you where you are to go.’
Having said that, he knocked his forehead against a nearby wall, so that the skin was torn and began to bleed a little, then lowered himself to the ground. James, meanwhile, had set down his gendarme and had his handcuffs unlocked. After a hasty word of thanks to the men who had helped them escape, they ran side by side down the alley. At its end they found the Citroën. A man in plain clothes was sitting at the wheel. As they came pounding up, he threw open the rear door. They scrambled in and Gregory slammed the door behind him. Without a word the driver let in the clutch. Still maintaining silence, he twisted his way through several short, mean streets, then, by way of a long, straggling suburb, to the low land behind the town.
By then the moon had risen and by its light there could be seen a row of low hangars and a building surmounted by a squat tower. It was the Magenta airport. The driver did not take them to the office but pulled up a hundred yards short of it. Putting his finger to his lips to enjoin continued silence, he got out and led them across the grass to the end of the line of hangars, signed to them to go round to the front, whispered ‘Bonne chance’, then turned and hurried back to his car.
Walking cautiously round the corner, they saw that a small aircraft was standing in front of one of the hangars. Beside it there were two men quietly talking. On seeing Gregory and James they stopped and waved a greeting. One was dressed in pilot’s kit, the other was an Army officer.
‘Messieurs,’ said the officer, whom Gregory now saw to be a Major, ‘you will appreciate that the fewer people who see you leave, the better. Be pleased to go aboard before I summon the ground staff.’
The plane was a four-seater reconnaissance aircraft. As James and Gregory settled themselves in the rear seats, the latter asked, ‘What about our baggage. Is it here?’
The Major shook his head. ‘No. Were you expecting it to be? If so, I am sorry; but I was told nothing of this. And we cannot delay. You must leave without it.’
Gregory was annoyed, as to land in Tujoa without his passport, his clothes and other belongings, was going to cause him considerable inconvenience. But he felt that in all other respects, Ribaud had planned their get-away so efficiently that he could not be greatly blamed for this one oversight.
The Major blew a whistle, then got in beside the pilot. Vaguely-seen figures of ground crew moved round the aircraft, the propellers began to turn, she glided down the runway, halted while the engines revved up, then took off.
The tension in case some hitch occurred to prevent their escape had been so considerable that neither of the passengers felt like sleep, and for Gregory the flight proved a fascinating one. Since the war, nearly all his air travel had been in jets, flying at a height of many thousand feet, whereas the small prop plane was travelling at an altitude of only about two thousand.
As the nearly full moon gradually mounted higher in the sky, he could see the scene below quite clearly. Rarely for long were they out of sight of one of the innumerable islands that in the South Pacific seem almost as numerous as the stars overhead. The majority were no more than atolls set in a blue-black sea that, here and there, broke in white foam on these coral strands. But when they passed over some of the larger islands in the Loyalty Group, mountains, rivers and little clusters of white buildings could be made out.
After an hour or so he began to tire of sitting at an angle peering down, and his thoughts turned to speculation on the situation they would find in Tujoa. Lacost and his friends had had two clear months in which to work. It seemed as good as certain that their salvaging apparatus would have reached the island many weeks ago. But they had no licence, so it seemed probable that the French Resident on Tujoa would have prevented them from starting operations. Would Lacost have ignored the ban and endeavoured to salvage the treasure clandestinely on moonlit nights or, as de Carvalho apparently thought he would, got fed up and thrown in his hand?
And de Carvalho? Having sailed from Noumea ten days previously, he could have been in Fiji for the past week. Was he idling his time away in Suva or had he decided that the time had come to go to Tujoa and find out how the land lay there?
Thinking of Fiji brought Gregory’s thoughts to Manon. What would she be doing now? The story of James’ attack on de Carvalho would for certain have been reported in the New Caledonian papers, and their escape afterwards. As James was a Ratu and the hereditary High Chief of the Nakapoa Group, it was a news item that would have been printed in the Fiji Times, so Manon must have learned of it. But, as they had taken to sea in a small launch and she had heard nothing from him for over two months, the odds were that she would assume James and himself to have been drowned.
Cynically, Gregory decided that by this time she would be consoling herself with another lover. The thought did not distress him, because he had never loved her. Love for him meant Erika, and only Erika. Other affaires were just fun, to be enjoyed as long as his virility remained. And Manon had been fun: a superb bedfellow, instinctively capable of providing as many amorous delights as if she had been a star pupil in a brothel and, to boot, a highly intelligent companion. In his mind’s eye he could see her now: no true beauty, owing to her receding chin, overlarge mouth and sallow skin; but the skin of her body was satin to the touch, her figure that of a dryad, her common sense refreshing and her laughter infectious. He decided that, as soon as the situation on Tujoa was cleared up, he would return to Fiji and seek her out. He felt fairly confident that if she had taken another lover he would find a way to induce her to give him up and again become his mistress. To spend further nights with her would be well worth taking quite a lot of trouble.
The aircraft droned on. James was dozing and so was the Major. Gregory decided that he now would also take a nap. As he settled back, he became conscious that the plane had started to come down. Sitting up again, he looked out of the window. They were near quite a big island. The moonlight threw up its mountains and cast deep shadows in its valleys. But there was one broad, open space almost immediately below them. As Gregory stared out, he could hardly believe his eyes. There were buildings down there clustered round a dozen huge rockets.
The truth flashed upon him. Ribaud had proved cleverer than himself. To make certain of keeping France’s dangerous secret he had double-crossed them and sent them back to Yuloga.