Valentim de Carvalho’s swarthy face flushed and his heavily-lidded eyes narrowed. For a moment he looked as though he was about to burst with rage, but he controlled himself, managed a slightly twisted smile and said acidly:
‘My dear, I understand your disappointment. You are a born romantic and had set your heart upon this quest for treasure. But I am a financier, so naturally am opposed to throwing my money down the drain. That is my reason for refusing to finance the Ratu, not because I was warned that if I backed him certain people would make serious trouble for me.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Gregory said, ‘I have been considering offering to participate in this speculation; so may I ask who was this woman who threatened you?’
De Carvalho shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I don’t know her name, but I met her at a reception at the British Embassy just before I went up to Guatemala. Our conversation was very brief. She came up to me and simply said, “I happen to know that you are thinking of financing the Ratu James Omboloku in his project of securing sunken treasure. Others are interested in this affair, and I have been instructed to give you warning that, should you do so, it will be the worse for you. The people I represent will stick at nothing to gain their ends, and unless you keep out of their way it may well cost you your life.”
‘I was about to question her when the Ambassador’s wife beckoned to me. As I acknowledged her signal, the woman slipped away and became lost in the crowd. Later I tried to find her, but failed. Evidently she had left soon after conveying her warning to me. I enquired of the Ambassador and several other people who she was, but no-one could put a name to my description of her. That was not surprising, as at this reception there were several hundred people. More than that I cannot tell you.’
After a moment, Gregory asked, ‘Was the woman British or Brazilian?’
‘Neither. Most of the people at the reception were, of course, talking in English, and it was in that language she addressed me. But she did not speak it very well. She was of medium height and I judged her to be in her middle thirties. She had dark hair, very fine eyes and a good figure. In fact I thought her quite striking; so I was all the more surprised later that no-one should be able to tell me from my description who she was. I have no idea of her nationality, but she was a Mediterranean type—Italian, French, Greek, or perhaps a Spaniard with a dash of Moorish blood.’
Gregory looked across at James. ‘Have you any idea who this woman could have been?’
‘Not the faintest; and this occurrence astounds me. Until now I was entirely unaware that anyone else was interested in the old wreck and her gold.’
Standing up, de Carvalho said:
‘Well, there we are. If Mr. Sallust still feels inclined to put up money for this treasure hunt, that is his affair. But you must count me out. And now, let us not spoil our evening by discussing this affair further. As my withdrawal must be depressing for the Ratu, instead, over a magnum of French champagne, we will talk of other things.’
The magnum was brought and for two hours that quickly slipped away de Carvalho laid himself out to be pleasant. He was extremely knowledgeable about Brazil’s chequered history and the succeeding waves of fortune and misfortune that had sent its economy seesawing. First, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries had come the sugar boom which made the owners of many great estates fabulously rich, but it was killed by the competition of the Caribbean Islands. Next, wealth came to Brazil as the world’s greatest source of rubber; but by 1910 the planters of Malaya and the Dutch East Indies were underselling her, so that the flourishing towns on the Amazon soon became dying communities. Then Brazil held almost a monopoly in the export of coffee, but the competition of the African growers led in 1950 to vast, unsold surpluses having to be burned and many plantations being abandoned to return to jungle. Lumber, too, had had its boom and the country still had vast resources of timber, but transport made it difficult to exploit fully this source of wealth. Diamonds, tobacco, cotton and bananas all helped the economy, but Brazil’s greatest wealth lay in iron and other minerals. Two hundred miles north of Rio there was a mountain, composed almost entirely of iron ore, and so far only the top four hundred feet had been shaved off. The unexploited riches of the country were fabulous; hardly yet touched, and the vast interior, where primitive Indians were the only inhabitants, had, even yet, not been fully explored. Every endeavour to develop the country was thwarted by lack of capital and the scarcity of modern roads.
Olinda took little part in the conversation and at eleven o’clock went off to bed; but Valentim was obviously enjoying himself and when they had finished the magnum, insisted on making a King Cup, of more champagne laced with brandy. Gregory had a head like a rock, so survived the party; but, by the time it broke up, James, who was not accustomed to heavy drinking, was obviously very tight.
When the three men met next morning at breakfast, poor James was still very much under the weather, but de Carvalho said he would soon put him right and produced for him a drink made from the ground berries of the Guaranà plant. This he declared to be a sovereign remedy for a hangover and, as he added cold water to the powder, he remarked with a laugh, ‘Many Brazilians drink this every morning, as it is said both to aid longevity and to be a mild aphrodisiac.’
Breakfast over, Valentim went to his study to write some letters. As soon as he had gone, Gregory asked James, ‘Have you still no idea who this woman is who threatened de Carvalho?’
James gave a rueful grin. ‘As far as my head permitted, I have been puzzling about that ever since I woke up. Who the woman was I haven’t a notion, and I can think of only one person who would like to thwart my plans. That is old Roboumo, a witch-doctor who lives on a small island near Revika, the capital of Tujoa, and has great influence over my people.’
‘Why should he be opposed to your bettering their lot?’
‘Because he would stand to lose by it. He controls a gang of badmen, and runs what, in modern terms, could be called a protection racket. They blackmail the superstitious into handing over a percentage of their slender earnings. If I could bring a modern way of life to Tujoa the people would no longer be superstitious, and would defy him. He would lose his power and he is determined to cling on to it.’
‘Have you not sufficient influence to break the hold he has over your people?’
The Ratu sighed. ‘Unfortunately, no. As is the case in most of the South Sea Islands, the people still have great respect for their hereditary rulers and accept their guidance in the majority of matters. But draunikau, as witchcraft is called, still plays a great part in their lives. They are frightened of the curses this evil man might put upon them, so still remain subservient to him.’
‘That is quite understandable. But it is difficult to believe that a witch-doctor on a remote island in the Pacific could have the sort of connections that would enable him to threaten a financier in Rio de Janeiro. And the woman did not threaten de Carvalho with a curse. She said she represented people who would stick at nothing, which is a very different matter.’
‘I agree. But as far as I know I have no enemies except Roboumo, and I doubt if more than a handful of Europeans have even heard that there is gold in this sunken ship.’
‘Well, it seems certain that somebody is taking an interest in her, and that someone must have known that you had come to Rio in the hope of getting de Carvalho to finance you.’
‘True, but that gets us nowhere. The whole island knows that on and off for several weeks I have spent my time skin-diving to explore the galleon, and I discussed my plans with my Council of Elders before leaving for Rio; so anyone might have become aware of my intentions.’
‘If these people’s Intelligence is good, they’ll soon send a threat to me,’ Gregory remarked.
‘Then you still mean to find the money for me,’ James said with evident relief. ‘I was afraid that after last night you might decide not to.’
Gregory laid a hand on the young man’s arm and smiled to soften the blow he was about to deliver. ‘I’ve never definitely said I would, only that I was very interested and greatly inclined to. I still am, and no threats would frighten me off. But I couldn’t help being impressed by what de Carvalho said about the gold from Peru always being sent across the Atlantic and never the Pacific. Like him, I am averse to very risky speculations in which my money is likely to go down the drain, and …’
‘But wait!’ James interrupted. ‘He wasn’t altogether right about that. Lately, I’ve been reading quite a lot about the Spanish Conquest. From Mexico they did ship the gold they got there direct across the Atlantic, but they couldn’t do that with the gold from Peru. In those days there was no Panama Canal, and it was impossible for them to transport it across the Andes, then through hundreds of miles of unexplored Brazilian jungle. They had to ship it from Lima, up the west coast of Central America to Acapulco in Mexico; so at least half of those treasure galleons’ voyages did take place in the Pacific.’
‘No dice, dear boy.’ Gregory shook his head. ‘Admittedly they had to sail right up the Pacific coast of Central America but that is five thousand miles from your home town, and you can’t tell me that any ship was ever blown that far off course.’
The young Ratu’s face fell, but Gregory gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and continued, ‘Don’t be downhearted. I’ve not said no yet; but before I say yes I do want to secure further information.’
‘I don’t see how you can.’
‘Well, I do. In the days when the greater part of America was ruled by Spain it was run by the Council of the Indies, which sat in Seville. Even the Viceroys took their orders from the Council and it recorded in detail every transaction that took place here. I know that for a fact because when I was in Seville I was shown some of the vast collection of documents. You told me that this ship was not a high-pooped galleon of the old style, but you judged her to be a warship of the type used towards the end of the eighteenth century. That narrows the search, and in the records there should be an entry of such a ship being lost off the Nakapoa Group with particulars of the cargo she was carrying. It will mean my going to Spain; but time is my enemy these days, so I have no objection to making the trip. Now, how about a dip in the pool?’
Much cheered, James agreed, and ten minutes later they were disporting themselves in the water. Shortly afterwards, Olinda joined them and, when Gregory went in to dress, James remained out there with her. As the window of Gregory’s room looked out on to the pool, from time to time he took a look at them. After a while he observed with interest that James was no longer displaying his ability to make complicated dives and swimming for three lengths under water. He and Olinda were sitting close together on the side of the pool, with their feet dangling into it, engaged in earnest conversation.
Gregory had shrewdly assessed that Olinda’s attack on her husband had been caused not so much by annoyance at being deprived of participation in an exciting undertaking as by anger at his refusal to finance James. Gregory thought it probable that she had little interest in retrieving the gold but had been greatly looking forward to a long stay on Tujoa in James’s company. Anyhow, he felt certain now that she was just as much attracted to the handsome Ratu as he was to her; and he wondered how far, had their association been likely to continue, de Carvalho would have allowed this budding romance to go.
During their conversation the previous evening it had emerged that neither Gregory nor James had yet visited Petropolis, the Versailles of Brazil, where the Emperors used to hold their courts during the great winter heats, and de Carvalho had said, ‘I intend to return to Rio tomorrow, but had not meant to leave until the afternoon. Instead, we will set off earlier, take a picnic lunch and, as Petropolis lies about twenty miles north of Rio, make a big detour so that I can show you this charming little town.’
In consequence, at midday the two cars left the fazenda. Gregory, with his young friend in mind, asked to go with Valentim, thus enabling James to have Olinda with him in the hired car.
It was another lovely drive through mountains, beside lakes and over swollen rivers. But again they had to slow down every few miles owing to landslides, so it was not until four o’clock that they reached Petropolis.
The town lay in a depression surrounded by wooded hills. Its centre of interest was the Palace, now a museum—a long, one-storey mansion in the style of late eighteenth-century Portuguese architecture. They spent half an hour looking round it, then drove on a mile further and pulled up at a huge, timbered building that looked like a gigantic Swiss chalet. It had, de Carvalho told them, been a Casino but, since the Government had prohibited gambling, was now a Country Club.
In front of it there was an artificial lake, on which there were boats, rafts and every device for water sports. Inside, on the ground floor, there seemed to be an endless succession of lofty halls, restaurants, ballrooms, swimming baths and bars. As gaming was no longer permitted, Gregory wondered that such an immense establishment could continue to support itself. But de Carvalho told him that everyone who was anyone in Rio belonged to the club, and there were certainly plenty of people in it.
After drinks there, they took the road to Rio. For several miles it wound down the wooded mountainside, revealing a succession of deep gorges beyond which lay lovely vistas, then they reached the narrow coastal plain with its seemingly endless suburbs sweltering in the heat. At the Hotel Gloria on the baia de Guanabara, where James was staying, the two cars pulled up and he took a reluctant farewell of Olinda. She joined her husband, good-byes were said, then Gregory took her place in the hired car and was driven on to the Copacabana Palace.
When he had washed and changed he went down to dinner. Manon was seated at the table they had been sharing for the past few days and, not knowing what time he would be back, had just started. Elegant and piquant as ever, she received him with delight, said how greatly she had missed him and asked if his trip had been successful.
‘Interesting, anyhow,’ he replied with a smile. On the way back he had been considering whether he should tell her about the Ratu James’ sunken galleon. Obviously the fewer people who knew about the possibility of its containing gold the better; but if he did finance the venture he would be going to the South Seas, and Manon lived there. He was thoroughly enjoying their affaire, and to have a charming mistress within easy flying distance of the operation would provide him with delightful relaxation during the time that must elapse while preparations were being made and, later, during periods when rough weather made diving impossible. So he had decided to take her into his confidence.
To begin with, as she listened, her face remained grave and intent. Then, when he told her of his intention of going to Tujoa, she exclaimed with delight, ‘To have you come to the South Seas would fulfil my dearest wish. The islands are unbelievably lovely and you must stay with me in my home. No matter what the gossips may say, I will willingly sacrifice my reputation for you.’
‘Darling, how sweet of you,’ he replied. ‘I’m greatly tempted to accept if we could find a way to get over that. No doubt I could hire a motor yacht, lie off your island and let it be thought that I was sleeping aboard. But once we’ve got the apparatus for the job, I fear my visits would be for only a day or two now and then, as I’ll have to spend most of my time on Tujoa.’
At that she frowned, then said rather diffidently, ‘It’s not my business, of course, but do you think it really wise to sink a lot of money in such a speculative venture? The Pacific is littered with sunken galleons and for generations past any number of people have attempted to recover treasure from them. But I’ve never heard of anyone bringing up more than a few odd coins and things like weapons and bits of armour. That can be fun if it entails no more than skin-diving; but you say you’ll need pontoons with big cranes, and that sort of thing means a considerable capital investment.’
Admiring her French shrewdness, he nodded. ‘You’re right about that, my sweet; and, as a matter of fact, I’m not going into this thing until I have found out a bit more about the prospects of getting a fair return for my money. In a few days’ time I mean to fly to Seville and consult the records of the Council of the Indies. With luck, I’ll learn from them what cargo this ship was carrying.’
She made a little moué. ‘So you mean to desert me so soon. How horrid of you.’
‘Only temporarily. I’ll be back inside a week.’
Leaning forward, Manon said earnestly, ‘Chéri, why waste your time and money in this way? The odds are enormous against your succeeding where so many other people have failed. This poor young Ratu is building castles in the clouds. It would be much kinder to refrain from encouraging his hopes now rather than allow him to be grievously disappointed later. Put this foolish business out of your mind and, instead, come to stay with me in Fiji.’
Gregory took her hand and kissed it. ‘My love, you are most persuasive, and you are probably right that I should be an ass to go further with the matter. But I feel I owe it to young James not to back out until I have a valid excuse for doing so. I mean to book a passage to Spain tomorrow morning. You will stay on here until my return, and if I learn when I get back that you have been hitting it up with some other chap I’ll smack your lovely bottom until it’s purple.’
She laughed uproariously. ‘What fun! You certainly tempt me to. That sort of beating puts fire into a girl. The following morning your legs would give under you. But seriously, chéri, have no thoughts but nice ones about me. As I have told you, I am not a woman who takes lovers after only a short acquaintance.’
‘Except myself,’ Gregory grinned, kissing her hand again.
Nevertheless, he was not destined to go to Spain. On the following day they had both been invited to lunch with the Wellesleys. Knowing that anything he confided to them would go no further, Gregory told them about Ratu James and the quest for treasure which he was thinking of financing.
Hugo reinforced Manon’s opinion that there was small hope of recovering a large quantity of gold from any galleon sunk in the Pacific. Then he went on:
‘Anyhow, I don’t think you need go to Seville to find out what your chances are. In the old days the whole of Spanish South America was ruled from Antigua, in what is now Guatemala, by a Captain General. The city was destroyed by a terrible earthquake in 1773, but it was rebuilt some twenty years later. If your ship was not sunk until the 1790s, or thereabouts, the records of the cargo it carried are certain to be in Antigua.’
Manon clapped her hands. ‘How splendid! From here to Fiji the quickest route is up to Mexico City, then on by QANTAS, and Guatemala is on the way. We would go so far together, Gregory. That would be most pleasant.’ She did not add that she hoped he would accompany her for the rest of her journey, but he realised the implication and smiled at her.
Next day Gregory telephoned James to tell him what he intended to do, and it was agreed that the Ratu should accompany them to Guatemala. On Wednesday the three of them left in a VARIG aircraft for Lima. It was the first time that Gregory had crossed the Andes and, peering down through the cloudless atmosphere, he was fascinated by the extraordinary barrenness of the lofty mountains and desolate valleys. He would have liked to stop off at Lima and spend a few days going up to Cuzco, the thirteen-thousand-foot-high capital of the Incas, to see the ruins there, composed of twenty-ton blocks of stone, reminiscent of the Mycean civilisation in pre-Hellenic Greece; but now was not the time to do so.
They spent the night a few miles outside the modern Peruvian capital, at a delightful Country Club, with acres of tropical gardens, three swimming pools and every other civilised amenity.
On Thursday they did the short trip to Panama, again by the Brazilian line VARIG, which Gregory found put many other lines to shame. Instead of the horrid little vinegary kickshaws offered before a meal by most of them VARIG gave its passengers slices of genuine pâté de foie gras, cold crawfish and a big tin of caviare in which to dip. The wines were from first-class European vineyards, the meals excellent, the service impeccable; and the line prided itself on arriving on time.
They could have gone on to Guatemala the same day, but Gregory wanted to see the Panama Canal; so they had engaged rooms at the ‘Siesta’ Airport Hotel. The heat was terrific and humming birds zoomed over them as they bathed that afternoon in the palm-shaded hotel pool. But the rooms were air-conditioned and their twenty-mile drive the following morning to Panama City and the Canal Zone was a most interesting expedition.
Late in the afternoon they flew on to Guatemala and it was already dark when they landed. Antigua, the old capital, lay twenty-five miles inland and five thousand feet above sea level. A hired car took them up gradient after gradient and, looking back from an ever-greater height, for a long while they could see the lights of Guatemala City spread below them like a fairyland.
For the rest of the way the car roared along an almost deserted road between banks of now-black forest or high bushes. Overhead, the night sky looked like a blue-black ribbon on which were floating thousands of bright stars.
The main building of the hotel appeared to have once been a spacious, one-storey, Colonial mansion; but there were no bedrooms in it. These, again one-storey buildings, were set in blocks of four round a two-acre garden. As they were led to their rooms, they approached an oval swimming pool. Beyond it, over the garden wall, there reared up the ruins of a once lofty church which, as they were floodlit, formed a lovely backdrop to the scene.
They found the bedrooms clean, roomy and well furnished, with bright, chintz curtains and, in one corner—an incongruous note for that part of the world but a pleasant amenity against cold weather at five thousand feet—a stone fireplace with a fire already laid.
As is the custom throughout Latin America, dinner did not start until nine o’clock, so when they went into the restaurant numerous other guests were still lingering over the meal. While they were ordering, two men got up from a nearby table and left. One was a very tall and bulky man with fair hair and a flowing fair moustache, below which was a row of slightly protruding teeth. He looked about forty-five. The other was younger, much shorter; broad-shouldered, dark-haired and with a swarthy complexion. As they passed, James remarked, ‘I’m sure I’ve seen that tall, fair-haired man somewhere before, but I can’t think where.’
Tired after their long day, as soon as they had finished dinner they went to their respective rooms. As the hotel was nearly full, to Gregory’s annoyance, they had had to accept rooms in separate blocks; but he did not anticipate much difficulty in finding Manon’s in the dark should he wish to do so.
Having undressed, he went to bed, read for a quarter of an hour, then put out the light. Some time later, he awoke. Long years of living in acute danger had enabled him to train himself to become instantly alert when suddenly awakened. No sound came from near the door, but he felt certain that someone had entered the room stealthily and was standing there.