22

Once they were on their way she felt a little better. Now that she had given in to what he wanted, he was in a gay mood—cheerful and amusing and affectionate. If she had not been carrying a fortune in her handbag, she might have felt more at ease with him.

They left the car in the parking place at the foot of the cable house and went up the long flight of stairs inside the building. A car was about to leave and when Dirk had bought tickets, they hurried to join the group going through the door. On the walls of the cable house were huge pictures of British royalty visiting the top of Table Mountain—pictures of the younger princesses Elizabeth and Margaret coming down the steps from the landing platform with their mother, the Queen.

In the tunnel-like room there was a steady clanking of cable machinery, and ahead people were packing themselves into the small car. The guard had a South African accent, dropping his h’s and blurring his syllables as he performed an obviously routine task. The holiday visitors to the mountaintop were a gay lot, the girls ready to laugh, the men showing off just a little.

There were small end seats in the car, but no one wanted to sit down. Part of the fun was to look out the windows as the car went up the mountain. Dirk was the last one in behind Susan. The door closed and the car slid gently away from the platform and began its smooth climb up the cable to the top. No one seemed to mind the fact that passengers leaned dizzily out the open windows. When Susan looked down at the steepening rock cliffs below she was glad to have Dirk’s arm firmly about her.

She inched her handbag more securely up the shoulder away from the window and kept a hand upon its clasp. The thought of dropping the Kimberley Royal down a mountainside or of having her pocket picked made her feel quite hollow.

How small the car seemed against all this spread of nearby rock and distant hills and ocean. Even the tawny head of the Lion, with the sun dipping toward it, was left below as the car swept upward, its tiny shadow moving along the cliffs below. Murmurs from the passengers made Susan turn in time to see the sister car coming down, carrying its waving human freight. If only she could catch a little more of this holiday spirit and fill the queer hollow within, still the fearful shivering that had begun as the car moved up the mountain. It was not the height that frightened her, and the diamond was perfectly safe in her bag, so she was not sure why she trembled.

The trip took only a few minutes. As the car reached the final steep rampart of rock, Susan looked out dizzily to see a girl and boy in shorts and cleated boots, ropes tied about their waists, as they sought for toeholds in the sheer precipice. Again the quiver ran through her. Rock climbing, certainly, would never be for her. This ascent in a suspended car was quite enough.

Except for pointing out landmarks, Dirk had little to say on the way up and she was uncomfortably aware that he was watching her more than he watched the scenery. But, then, he had been up here many times and would naturally be interested in her reactions.

At the top the car slid into its cubicle in the tall white stone building that looked so small from below. A solid, squarish mass, the structure was, rooted in rock and undoubtedly able to withstand the gales that must belabor the mountain. They left the car to walk about the observation section behind guard rails, and Susan noted a warning sign: WHEN HEARING THE HOOTER PASSENGERS MUST PLEASE RETURN AT ONCE.

“Does anyone ever get left up here?” Susan asked.

“It’s not uncommon,” Dirk said. “Every year climbers get caught by sudden changes of the weather. Sometimes they spend a few cold, wet hours before they get down—if they’re not close enough to reach the tearoom. Sometimes they get themselves stuck climbing up and have to be rescued. The Mountain Climbers Club is called upon for rescue duty every so often.”

“I suppose there are falls too,” Susan said, looking down over the dizzy cliffs of rock.

“The mountain still claims its sacrifices,” Dirk said lightly.

She stood for a while studying the wide stretches of countryside spread out below. All of Cape Town could be seen, of course, and the far beaches beyond the Lion’s Head. When they moved around to another vantage point, the entire Cape Peninsula stretched before them like a relief map. Susan could see clear to the distant point where she and John had stood earlier today. At the memory a queer regret touched her. How much more secure she would have felt if it had been John beside her now instead of Dirk, in whom she dared not confide.

The teahouse was built of stone and set in a hollow where tall boulders shielded it part way around and made it invisible from the ground below.

“This is a good day for the trip,” Dirk said. “There’s almost a dead calm up here. Let’s have tea before we tackle the mountain itself,” and he led her down a walk to the doorway.

They found a table in one of the stone-enclosed alcoves that occupied the corners of the dining room, and sat together on a cushioned bench curved about a round table. Windows circled the alcove, giving them a glimpse outside. However, what was going on inside was as interesting to Susan as the outdoors, and more reassuring.

A group of young people, barelegged, brown and rugged, had come in with their knapsacks and climbing shoes, to seat themselves at a table and compare climbing experiences over tea. There were small family groups as well, and older people who had come up by the cable car.

A waitress brought their order, and drinking hot English tea in the cheerful holiday atmosphere of the big room, Susan began to feel more relaxed. Soon they would go out to look at the mountaintop and see whatever views there were, and then they would be on the way down again. When she was back home she would manage to see her father as soon as possible.

“I want to tell you my news,” Dirk said, lowering his voice so that those at the nearest table could not hear. “We’re leaving South Africa very shortly.”

She looked at him, startled, and he went on.

“This is no country to be living in now. Everyone knows there’s a bad crackup coming. The government can hold things down for a while, but eventually—pfft! And it’s not a country I want to live in if the blacks take over. So I’ve been making a few quiet arrangements outside.”

“Wh-what are your plans?” she asked, feeling a little stunned. “You might have given me some warning.”

He reached for her hand across the table and touched the pink diamond lightly. “Trust me a little, darling. You used to think everything I did was right and wonderful. Now you’re puckering your nose and looking as though you might be obstinate. Give me a chance to show you what I can manage once we’re out of South Africa.”

Her fingers lay limp in his. This was too sudden and she could not respond. “Does my father know?”

“Certainly not,” he said. “And you’re not going to tell him. Or your friend John Cornish either.”

“Do you think they would try to stop you?” she asked in bewilderment.

“Don’t be melodramatic, darling. No one is going to stop me. Or even try. I mean to have it an accomplished fact before anyone knows I’ve taken the step permanently.”

“But why must you do it that way? Why should you hurt Father with such secrecy? He trusts you and regards you as a son.”

“You think he would be hurt?” Dirk made a derisive sound and let her hand go. “Niklaas has turned into a vegetable. There’s no blood left in him. There’s nothing left except cobweb dreams about saving the country.”

Susan had never heard her father speak of such dreams. He had always seemed content enough to defend the status quo. None of what Dirk was saying made any real sense.

“No one will try to stop me,” he repeated grimly. “Your father wouldn’t dare. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on? I would have only to say a word to the proper authorities and he would be back in prison in a flash. No, I think he will not lift a finger when the time comes.”

Susan made a helpless gesture with upturned palms. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me or what it is you’re planning.”

“That’s as it should be. When we’re out of the country, starting a new life, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

She could think only of the cruel blow to her father that seemed so senseless, so needless.

“Father took care of you when you were young and had no one to turn to. He—”

“He took me after he had destroyed my father by turning him over to the English, who interned him. And he killed my mother with grief. Whatever he gave me he owed me. Don’t imagine that there has ever been any sentimental love between us. And don’t imagine that I haven’t been waiting for this moment.”

Susan closed her eyes. The tea grew cold in her cup and the toast she had nibbled turned leathery. Nowhere was there solid ground upon which she could stand.

“Is that why you hung the whip on the wall?” she asked. “Was that to remind you?”

“So you know about the whip?” he said. “Who told you?”

“John Cornish. Today when we were down at Cape Point. He said he took the whip away from my father when he was flogging you with it. Yet you’ve always seemed to hate John.”

“I don’t like an interferer. That’s what he has always been. He’s at it again now. He’s poking around and getting suspicious. Because of him I’ve had to push up my arrangements and get out of the country sooner than I wanted to.”

Her mind was still upon the flogging. “What had you done that Father should take such fierce measures with you? You were only a boy—sixteen or less.”

Dirk’s laughter was unpleasant. “That’s the ridiculous part of the whole thing. That he should have flogged me because I had taken my father’s whip to punish disobedience. But let me tell you this—your father didn’t stop me as quickly as John stopped him. Sometime you might ask Thomas Scott to show you the scars on his back.”

Susan drew in her breath with a quick, shocked gasp. At every turn Dirk had seemed to place an enormous concentration upon her father, and she had always taken this for devotion. Now she knew better. Now she knew it to be something twisted and corrosive, building only toward destruction—something symbolized by the reminder of that whip.

“Now you will be able to help me with what I plan,” he said.

It was strange, she thought, studying him almost remotely, that although she was sickened, she felt no real pain over this final destruction of the illusion she had been in love with. Something in her that she had not been willing to face had always known this day was coming.

“I will help you with nothing,” she said evenly. “I am going home now and I am going directly to my father.”

He laughed almost gayly. “And bring the whole house of cards crashing down about his head? Do you think his position isn’t precarious on every score? Do you want to send him to prison again in his last years? I have only to tip off the police to finish him. And not only because of the odd lot of visitors he has at times.”

She was beginning to understand now. An edge of cruel, clear light had begun to sweep across all that had bewildered her. She remembered the cigars with the diamonds hidden in them—sent to Niklaas van Pelt, so that he would be incriminated if they were discovered, but intercepted by Mara, as all packages were in that house. No, it had not been Thomas who had pushed her down on the path that night, even though it was he who had phoned Willi to destroy the picture she had taken of Niklaas in the market. Yet here was confusion again.

“Surely Thomas can’t love you,” she said. “How can you make him do what you want him to? And Willi through him?”

“Because he has been foolish enough to trust one white man—your father,” Dirk said with biting scorn. “Thus he is involved—he’s caught. His word would mean nothing in defense of your father, of course. He can only take whatever steps may keep Niklaas protected for the time being. So he does what I say. If I leave the country as quietly as I plan, no harm will come to your father. But if anyone tries to stop me—”

She did not believe him. She could not believe now that he would spare her father anything of the payment he had meant all these years to extract.

She spoke softly, her words hardly more than a whisper. “I saw—in the flower market. That is part of it too, isn’t it? To weave the trap about my father, while you take the rewards?”

“You’re far too clever, darling,” he told her, his smile a little chill. “I’m afraid I’ve always underestimated you. I should have made you an ally from the first. Then we’d be in this together.”

“As Mara is an ally?” she said.

“It’s not exactly the same,” he told her. “You, after all, are my wife.”

“So it is you who have been smuggling diamonds?”

“Not alone, I assure you,” he said mockingly. “Much as I have disliked the idea, I have had to accept certain—assistants, shall we say? But mine are the wits behind the operation. It would get nowhere without me. It’s a tidy little sum I have being held for me when I get out of South Africa for good. We’ll live moderately well, my dear. Not as well as I had hoped—industrials are not the most profitable commodity, but there have been a few gems to help out.”

“What happens to them after the flower market?” Susan asked.

“You know enough for the moment, I think. Let’s leave a little for you to puzzle out. I promise that you’ll know everything once we’ve reached safety.”

She wanted to repeat that she would not go with him, but now she dared not. The thought of the Kimberley in her handbag returned sharply to mind, and she barely held her hand from making an involuntary gesture. Whatever happened now, he mustn’t dream that she had it in her possession. She had no illusion about how quickly he would take it from her and hold her to silence with threats against her father.

“Was it you on the path that day?” she asked him wearily.

For the first time he looked uncomfortable. “That was a necessary action. And I took care not to injure you, darling. After you came to the study and chattered naïvely about dropping the box of cigars, Mara called me out of the study to let me know something was missing. I dropped over the terrace wall and got out of sight on the path ahead of you.”

She shivered, remembering rough hands pushing her down, the brutal thrusting of the bag over her head.

“By the way,” he asked, “what did you do with the industrials you found that day? Where did you hide them?”

“I gave them to John Cornish,” she said. “You aren’t completely in the clear, you know. He does have some idea of what’s going on.”

“You have been a little fool,” he said.

“Let’s go home.” She spoke dully. “It will be sunset soon and too dusky to see anything up here.”

“There’s still plenty to see,” he assured her. “The lights at night are miraculous from the table. However, I promise not to keep you up here after dark, if you’d rather go down. At least you must see the top of the mountain, now that you’re here.”

She did not want to go with him, but she felt too limp and beaten at the moment to struggle any further. For the moment there were only two things left for which she must fight. The knowledge of the diamond must remain hidden. It belonged to her father, and to no one else. And the fact that when Dirk left South Africa she would not go with him.

When he had paid for their tea, he took her arm in a mockery of affection and drew her up the rough rock ledges and out into the open at the top. The sky was still light and tinged with sunset colors over the ocean, but at the far end of this enormous bleak plain of tumbled boulders a hint of gray dusk had begun to settle.

She knew now what people meant when they said this was like a landscape of the moon. The great plain at the top of the mountain was longer and wider and far vaster in its spread than she had ever imagined. From where they stood at one end and near the center there was no view except the tops of nearby hills and in the very distance the Hottentots Holland was being swallowed in blue mist. The drop-off on every hand was too far away to be seen, and in a sense this was reassuring. She had no desire to go close to that dizzy edge.

“Come,” Dirk said and took her hand. “Watch your step, my darling. Up here a fall might hurt you badly.”

Near the teahouse concrete had been poured to make a sort of path, but as they ventured out upon the mountain there was only a vague way of dirty white sand strewn between rocks. After a few yards, the path was mainly guesswork and they had to pick their way. What looked from the ground to be an utterly flat slab of even rock across the table proved now to be anything but flat. On every side great black boulders, speckled with white and scabrous with age, rolled away over the great plain that had once been the bottom of an ocean. Scrubby green brush grew here and there, and once more there were the bright little wildflowers, finding sustenance in precarious crevices between the age-old rocks.

For all that there were a good many people up here, the table seemed to swallow everything human as soon as the teahouse was left behind. The place was huge enough for thousands, and the little parties scattered and were lost to each other at once. She noted with an odd relief that voices carried well up here, and that even those that seemed far away could be heard distinctly. At least she and Dirk were not really alone.

The air was clear and exhilarating and the dead calm had lifted. A slight, cold wind had begun to blow and Susan found herself wishing it would increase to a gale, so that everyone would be sent down from the mountain at once, summoned back by the hooter.

Dirk was pulling her along faster than she wanted to go, and she hung back, stumbling over rocks, stepping now and then into some pool of stagnant water held in a rocky basin. Once they ventured upon the edge of a slimy green bog and Dirk changed his course to circumvent it. Far away and out of sight someone was testing the echoes, shouting down toward the cliffs behind the mountain, then waiting while strange wild voices shouted back.

The boulders grew larger now, crouching like black animal shapes, eerie against the fading light in the sky. It became necessary to leap from one rock to another, instead of clambering laboriously up and down.

“Where are we going?” Susan pleaded. “I don’t want to go any farther. It’s all ugly and difficult. There’s nothing to see.”

“There will be soon,” Dirk promised her. “But we must move along quickly or it will be getting dark and we’ll have to go down.”

She stood stubbornly where she was, refusing to budge another foot. He looked all around them and then capitulated suddenly.

“All right. This place will do as well as any. I don’t want to tire you. Sit down and get your breath. You needn’t worry. We’ll go back in a moment. I know this tabletop like the palm of my hand.”

She did not want to rest. She wanted only to turn back at once, to join the other groups that must by now be streaming back toward the cable house before the light should fade completely. But she was out of breath and when Dirk drew her down to sit beside him on a flat slab of rock she gave in. At least for the moment he was not hurrying her on.

“We’re not far from the edge now,” he said. “If you look over there you can see the lights beginning to come on in Cape Town.”

She shivered at the sight and drew her coat more closely about her. The wind was growing bitter.

Dirk leaned forward to take hold of the strap of her handbag, tugging at it gently. “Will you tell me the truth now, darling? You found the diamond, didn’t you? It was in the camera, of course. Mara was suspicious about your interest in that little camera, though she couldn’t see anything when she looked into it. We’d both been through that toy chest before, of course, but the camera seemed to offer nothing. I didn’t guess until I picked up that bit of black tape on the floor of your father’s study. Why don’t you tell me the whole story now, Susan dear?”

She forced words between teeth that had a tendency to chatter. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know very well,” he said. “Will you trust me with the diamond or must I take it away from you?”

“It’s for—for my father,” she said. “It doesn’t belong to you!”

“It belongs to whoever holds it,” he said softly. “Do be reasonable about this, darling. With the Kimberley in our hands we’ll be in the strongest position possible. The world will give us anything we want. There’s a rich, wonderful life ahead of us. For you and me, darling.”

Susan steadied her trembling and forced the shiver from her voice. “Father knew my mother had taken the stone. Just as she took the others that were found in the Johannesburg house. Perhaps he still believes she took it out of the country. He impoverished himself to pay for it and save her reputation. He loved her deeply and I think she was incapable of loving him as much. The stone belongs to him. He has paid for it with a good deal of his life.”

“You leave me very little choice,” Dirk said, and the mockery of affection was gone from his voice. “I can get out of the country by ship tomorrow if necessary. The signals are ready to be given. I mean to take the diamond with me. You don’t want to spend the night alone on the mountain, do you?”

Before she could speak, a sound pierced the air across the mountaintop. That was the hooter, the signal for everyone to go down. Susan stumbled to her feet, wrenching the strap of her handbag from Dirk’s grasp. But before she had managed to get two boulders away, he was after her, whirling her about to face him, his hand across her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound,” he said. “If you scream, the edge is very close. They’ll think you slipped and fell, and screamed in falling. I’ll have tried hard to catch you—and only saved your handbag. A great tragedy, my dear. And especially sad for your father.”

She saw his eyes, bright in the fading light from the west. The shining brightness she had loved was upon him—the brightness of a diamond and, like a diamond, hard. He would do as he said. Against his desire for the diamond her life was nothing.

When he saw that she would not move or scream, his grip relaxed a little.

“Don’t be frightened,” he said more gently, and she trusted gentleness in him less than she did cold force. “It will take a while for everyone to get in. There’s plenty of time to join the last car. Or, if we have to stay, I know a fairly easy way down. There’s even a hut we can take shelter in on the far side of the mountain if that should be necessary. But we can leave at once if you’ll open your bag and give me the diamond. That’s the sensible way to manage it, Susan. I’m fond of you, my dear. I’d never want to hurt you.”

She looked at him with unconcealed loathing. With her eyes she told him the truth—that she despised him now as much as she had once loved him. That there would never be any life for them together anywhere. That she would betray him at the first opportunity and stop him, defeat him, if she could.

He read her look and reached grimly into his pocket. “My first plan won’t do, after all. I can see I couldn’t trust you, even with the diamond in my possession. So now we will have to arrange something else. It’s your own fault, my dear. You leave me no choice.”

He drew his hand from his pocket and she half expected to see a gun in it. But what he held was a looping of metal that looked vaguely familiar as he began to slap it back and forth across his hand in a speculative manner. A finger of fear traced itself up the back of her neck.

“Do you know what this is?” Dirk asked, once more at ease and even faintly amused.

He held the metal strand out for her to see and she recognized it as a looped bicycle chain.

“A favorite weapon of the Cape Town skollies,” he said.

Skollies, she knew, were the young toughs who hung around District Six in gangs. Hypnotized, she stared at the links of chain being stroked across Dirk’s palm.

“Do you see how cleverly this has been fitted for use?” he said and showed her how an end of the chain had been folded back and forth to make a handle, then bound with workman’s tape so that it would not slip in the fingers. The remaining loop made a flexible lash.

“It can even be adjusted to the reach of an arm,” Dirk said pleasantly, as if he were rather enjoying himself now. “A man with a long arm doesn’t need as great a reach of chain. A shorter man can extend his reach by letting out the loop. It’s pretty lethal as a weapon, and far quieter than a gun.”

He took a step toward her and she saw death in his eyes.

“Open your bag,” he said.

It was strange now that her hands did not tremble. She opened the clasp easily and reached into the copious depths for the stone. When she felt it in her fingers she drew it out and would have tossed it wide over the edge of the precipice, but he was too quick for her. His left hand closed about her wrist and he swung her about toward the rocky edge of the mountain. The hand with the chain in it was behind her now and she closed her eyes against the blow that was sure to come. She felt her fingers opening beneath pressure and the stone dropped into his grasp.

The moment her hand was free she whirled away from him, and saw in a terrified flash that she was on the brink of the mountain. The lights of Cape Town moved in a blur across her vision and she flung herself wildly back from the edge, flung her arms about Dirk, more terrified now of the precipice than she was of him. She was in his arms, closed in a deadly embrace, and she could not tell whether he was urging her toward the cliff or drawing her back from it. She felt her feet slipping over nothingness—and suddenly they were falling together, scraping against stone, rolling over the edge, sliding, falling, locked in each other’s arms.