Night of Error

Chapter Four

According to local knowledge the Recife de Minerve was nothing but a legend, and not an uncommon one at that. The – Pilot's preface on vigias showed that there were probably masses of them around, but certainly it said that in 1880 HMS Alert had searched the area in which it was said to lie, without any success. And she wasn't the only one – several ships had looked for it, some had found it- but it was never quite in the same spot twice.

We left Panama and made good time at first but in a day or so found ourselves becalmed in a sea of glass. We stuck it for twenty-four hours and then went ahead under power. Campbell didn't like cliches about painted ships on painted oceans, especially after I told him another legend concerning the ship that had floated in the Gulf of Panama for forty years until she rotted and fell apart.

Using the engines was a pity because there would be so much less fuel for station-keeping and dredging, but in Campbell's view time was as precious as fuel, and I couldn't disagree with him. I had Paula to think of. Campbell had sent a spate of cables to his ferrets, advising them that they must keep their eyes on the movements of Suarez-Navarro's ship, and once we were at sea he became nervous. I think he was unused to being cut off from the telephone. He haunted the radio, but though he needed news he half didn't want to get it, and he certainly didn't want to answer. We had a powerful radio telephone that he had insisted on installing; it was an electronic shout that could cover the Pacific. But he didn't want us to use it for fear the Suarez-Navarro would monitor the broadcasts.

News did finally come that they had dropped anchor in Port Moresby, in Papua, and, as in Darwin, were sitting tight and doing nothing. Campbell was as worried by their inactivity as he would have been if they had been constantly on the move.

We all felt better when Esmerelda surged forward under the impact of her engine. She forged through the placid seas at a steady nine knots to where we would catch the southeast trade wind and find perfect sailing weather. It wasn't long before we picked up a southerly wind and we headed south-west under fore-and-aft sails only, Esmerelda heeling until the foaming sea lapped at the lee rail. As the days went by the wind shifted easterly until the day came when we knew we were in the true trade winds. We hoisted the big square sails on the foremast and Esmerelda picked up her heels.

These were Kane's home waters and, while we didn't depend on him, he was free with his advice on weather conditions to be expected. 'A bit further on we'll get revolving storms, 'he said. 'Not to worry – they're not very big – but my word they're fast. On you like a flash, so you've got to keep your eyes peeled.'

Campbell turned out to be a poor sailor and spent a great deal of time on his bunk regretting that ships were ever invented. It was unusual for him not to be the master of the situation, and he said he felt like a spare wheel on deck, surrounded by men who were doing all sorts of mysterious things fast and well without his guidance. He must have been hell to his mining engineers on land.

Clare, on the other hand, was a good sailor. She worked hard on deck, wearing the battered sailing gear she had promised us and a healthy tan, and was greatly appreciated by all the crew, who had found her an unexpected bonus on this leg of the voyage. She did help cook and kept watch like the rest of us, but she also absorbed the books in our small library like blotting paper, becoming especially interested in Geordie's collection of small boat voyages, many of which dealt with the Pacific.

One evening she and I talked together and I got another look at my brother, through Clare's eyes.

It was one of those incredible nights you find in the tropics. There was a waning moon and the stars sparkled like a handful of diamonds cast across the sky. The wind sang in the rigging and the water talked and chuckled to Esmerelda, and a white-foamed wake with patches of phosphorescence stretched astern.

I was standing in the bows when Clare joined me. She looked across the sea-path of the moon and said, 'I wish this voyage would go on forever.'

'It won't. There's a limit even to the size of the Pacific.'

'When will we get to Minerva?'

'Perhaps never- we've got to find it first. But we'll be in the vicinity in a week if the weather keeps up.'

'I hope we were right about that drawing,' she said. 'Sometimes I wish I hadn't tried interpreting them. What if we're wrong?'

'We'll just have to think of something else. Figuring out Mark's mental processes was never an easy job at the best of times.'

She smiled. 'I know.'

'How well did you know Mark?'

'Sometimes I thought I knew him pretty well,' she said. 'In the end I found I didn't know him at all.' She paused. 'Pop doesn't think much of what you've said about Mark – about his honesty, I mean. Pop thought well of him – mostly.'

I said, 'Mark had many faces. He was working for your father and he wanted something out of him so he showed his cleanest, brightest face. Your father never really knew Mark.'

'I know. Speaking figuratively and with due respect to your mother, Mark was a thorough-going bastard.'

I was startled and at the same time unsurprised. 'What happened?'

She said reflectively. 'I was a bit bitchy the other night and then you pulled me up with a jerk when you called that singer "just another of Mark's popsies". You see, I suppose I could be regarded as "just another of Mark's popsies". It was the usual thing. It must happen a thousand times a day somewhere in the world, but when it happens to you it hurts. I went overboard for Mark. I was all wrapped up in rosy dreams – he was so damned attractive.'

'When he wanted to be. He could switch the charm on and off like a light.'

'He let it happen, damn him,' she said. 'He could have stopped it at any time, but the devil let it happen. I was hearing the distant chimes of wedding bells when I discovered he was already married – maybe not happily – but married.'

I said gently, 'He was using you too, to get at your father. It's not surprising behaviour from Mark.'

'I know that now. I wish to God I'd known it then. Mark and I had a lot of fun in those days, and I thought it was going to go on forever. Do you remember?'

'Meeting you in Vancouver? Oh yes.'

'I wondered then, why you didn't seem to get on. You seemed so cold. I thought you were the rotter, and he said things…'

'Never mind all that. What happened?'

She shrugged. 'Nothing – nothing at all. And I found out at about the same time that Pop was having his troubles with Suarez-Navarro, so I didn't tell him, or anyone – though I think he guessed something. Have you noticed that he only praises Mark as a scientist, not as a person?'

'And then Mark vanished.'

'That's right. He'd gone and I never saw him again.' She looked ahead over the bows. 'And now he's dead – his body lies somewhere out there – but he's still pushing people around. We're all being pushed around by Mark, even now-do you know that? You and me, Pop and the Suarez-Navarro crowd, your friend Geordie and all your commando pals – all being manipulated by a dead man with a long arm.'

Take it easy,' I said. She sounded terribly bitter. 'Mark's not pushing anyone. We all know what we're doing, and we're doing it because we want to. Mark is dead and that's an end to him.'

It was time to change the subject. I used the standard approach.

Tell me about yourself, Clare. What do you do? When did your mother die?'

'When I was six.'

'Who brought you up? Your father was away a lot, wasn't he?'

She laughed. 'Oh, I've been everywhere with Pop. He brought me up.'

That must have been some experience.'

'Oh, it was fun. I had to spend a lot of time at boarding schools, of course, but I always went to Pop during the vacations. We weren't often at home though – we were mostly away. Sometimes on a skiing holiday, sometimes to Europe or Australia or South America during the longer vacations. I was always with Pop.'

'You're well travelled.'

'It was tricky at times though. Pop has his ups and downs -he hasn't always been rich. Sometimes we had money and sometimes we didn't, but Pop always looked after me. I went to good schools, and to college. It was only last year that I found out that once, when Pop was on a crest, he'd put aside a fund for me. Even when he was busted he never touched it, no matter how much he needed money.'

'He sounds a fine man.'

'I love him,' she said simply. 'When the Suarez-Navarro mob put the knife into him it was the first time I was old enough to understand defeat. I got down to studying stenography and so on, and he made me his confidential secretary when he couldn't afford to hire one. It was the least I could do – he'd lost faith in everybody and he had to have someone around he could trust. Although I didn't feel too trusting myself just about that time.'

'He seems to have survived.'

'He's tough,' she said proudly. 'You can't keep Pop down, and you can bet that in the end Suarez-Navarro will be sorry they ever heard of him. It's happened to him before and he's always bounced back. I still work for him. I'

'Whatever it is, say it.'

'I had you checked out in London, when you were preparing for this trip. I didn't want Pop stung again. Besides…'

'My name was Trevelyan?'

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' she said. 'But I had to. You checked out fine, you know.' For the first time since I'd known her she was a little shy. She went on. That's enough about the Campbells. What about the Trevelyans – about you?', 'What about me? I'm just a plodding scientist.'

We both laughed. Plodding certainly didn't describe this airy swooping progress, and it eased her tension.

'Most scientists seem to be looking up these days, not down.'

'Ah, space stuff,' I said.

'You don't seem very enthusiastic.'

'I'm not. I think it's a waste of money. The Americans are spending thirty billions of dollars to put man into space; in the end it could cost ten times that much. That works out at about twenty thousand dollars for every square mile of airless lunar surface. You could get cheaper and better land on earth and if you poured that much money into the sea the returns would be even better. I think the sea is our new frontier, not space.'

She smiled at the missionary note in my voice. 'So that's why you became an oceanographer.'

'I suppose so – I was always in love with the sea.'

'And Mark? What made him one? I don't think I've ever known two brothers more different.'

I said, 'Mark was eaten up with ambition. How he got that way I don't know – I think some of it was jealousy of me, though God knows what he had to be jealous about. When my father died Mark seemed to go wild; mother couldn't control him. Since she died I've had nothing to do with him – he went his way and I mine. It hasn't always been easy having a brother like that in my line of work. People sometimes confuse us – to my detriment.'

'And his advantage.'

'Why, thank you, lady,' I said and bowed; and our relationship suddenly took a step forward.

Trevelyan; that's Cornish, isn't it? Are you Cornish?'

'Yes. We're descended from the Phoenician and Carthaginian tin traders. Hannibal is still a popular name in Cornwall, though not in our family, thank God.'

'You're kidding.'

'No, I'm not. It's a fact.'

We had a long, relaxed and easy conversation that night, talking about everything under the sun and moon, and by the time she went back to her cabin I had a better idea about both Clare and her father. Campbell was a difficult man to assess, not very forthcoming about himself and sticking to business most of the time. This talk with Clare had given me something of his background and I felt more than ever that he was a man to be trusted.

And then there was Clare herself. I found myself wondering if she could bring herself to trust another Trevelyan, or whether Mark had soured her on Trevelyans for life. I mentally chalked up another stroke against Mark. I spent a long time thinking about Clare before I turned in.

And then I suddenly thought of what she had said about Mark – of his dead hand pushing people around like pawns on a chessboard. It was true; everything we had done or were doing stemmed from Mark and his character. It was as though Mark had been a showman and we were his puppets as his skeletal hands pulled the strings. It was a shuddery thought to go to sleep on.

We entered a region of small revolving storms as Kane had predicted. They ranged from mere waterspouts, ten yards across, to monsters fifty feet in diameter. These squalls provided exhilarating sailing as long as care was taken. Esmerelda would be foaming along beneath a brilliant1 blue sky when the horizon would darken and within minutes the water would be dark and wind lashed, and when the storm had gone there would be rainbows plunging into the sea and the faithful trade wind would pick up again, driving us deeper into the heart of the Pacific towards the south-east corner of French Oceania.

Sixteen days after leaving Panama Geordie figured out the midday sights and announced, 'We're nearly there. We'll enter the search area this afternoon.'

We had decided not to tell the crew too much, and so Geordie gathered them and merely said that I wanted to stooge about looking for a particular sort of water condition, but that everyone was to be on the watch for shoals. Everyone knew there wasn't much land out here and his request may have sounded strange, but they willingly organized for extra eyes on each watch, and we had a man up the foremast with binoculars a lot of the time. To my mind that was just a token that a search was in progress as I didn't think they'd spot anything, but for everyone else it perked up interest. We arranged for some dredging, to give the teams practice as we went along.

I was in the chart room early the next morning with Campbell and Geordie, going over the chart and the Pilot. I said, 'The Erato spotted Minerva here – that was in 1890. In 1920 another ship placed Minerva here, stretching east-north-east for two miles. As Robinson points out, there's a difference often miles.'

Campbell said, 'It's strange that there should only have been two sightings in thirty years.'

'Not so strange,' said Geordie. These waters are pretty quiet, and they're quieter now that power has taken over from sail. There's no need for anyone to come here just for commerce.' He put his hand on the chart. There are several possibilities. One of these sightings was right and the other wrong – take your pick of which was which. Or they were both wrong. Or they were both right and Minerva is a moving shoal -which happens sometimes.'

'Or they were both wrong – and Minerva is still a moving shoal,' I said dubiously.

'Or there are two shoals,' offered Campbell.

We all laughed. 'You're getting the idea,' said Geordie. He bent to the chart again. 'Now, we'll put each of these sightings into the middle of a rectangle, ten miles by twenty. That'll give us two hundred square miles to search, but it'll be sure. We'll start on the outside and work our way in.'

Campbell said, 'Let's get to the heart of the matter. Let's go right to each of these positions and see what's there.'

But Geordie decided against that. 'It depends on the weather. I'm not going anywhere near those two positions unless the sea is pretty near calm. You read what Robinson said about not being able to distinguish breakers from storm waves. We might find her too quickly and rip the bottom out of Esmerelda.' 'We've got the echo sounder,' I said. 'They should tell us where the water's shoaling.'

'Damn it, you're the oceanographer,' said Geordie. 'You should know that these islands are the tops of undersea mountains. There'll probably be deep water within a quarter of a mile of Minerva. And we could be sailing in twenty fathoms and a spire of coral could rip our guts out.'

'You're right, Geordie. Minerva's probably a budding atoll. Give her another million years and she'll be a proper island.'

'We can't wait a million years,' said Campbell acidly. 'All right, you're the skipper. We'll do your square search.'

So we got on with it. Geordie estimated that we'd have to pass within a mile of Minerva in order to see it. That meant we'd have to cover about 100 miles in order to search a 200 square mile area. We used the engine as sparingly as possible, confined our speed to about five knots and less, and that way a daylight search would take about two days.

The first leg of the search gave us nothing and in the evening we hove-to, knowing that it would be the devil of a job to assess our actual position the next morning because of the rate of drift in this area, and an uncertainty factor of at least one knot. Geordie pointed this out to Campbell to make him realise that this wasn't like searching a given area of land which, at least, stays put. Campbell hated it.

That evening, relaxing on deck, I was bombarded with questions by the crew as we ate our evening meal. They were all curious and I thought that this was not a satisfactory way to deal with them – they'd be more use and have more enthusiasm if they were in the know, of one piece of the story at least. And I was also curious myself as to Kane's reaction, and he happened to be among the off-watch members.

'What is all this, Mike?' Ian Lewis asked.

'Yes, what are we poking about here for?'

I glanced at Geordie, caught his eye and nodded very slightly. 'All right, chaps, we're looking for something a bit offbeat here.'

They were intent, and I knew I was right to share this with them.

'Ever hear of Minerva?' I asked.

It brought no reaction but murmurings and headshakes from all but one. Kane raised his head sharply. 'Recife de Minerve!' he said in a barbarous French accent. Everyone turned to look at him now. 'Are you looking for that? My word, I wish us all luck then.' He chuckled, enjoying his moment of superiority.

'What is it?'

I told them briefly what we were after, and its tantalising history.

'What's the idea anyhow?' Danny Williams wanted to know.

I said, 'Well, this is an oceanological expedition and chaps like me are always interested in mysteries – that's how we make our living. The waters round a newly-forming island are fascinating, you know.'

They accepted this, though I did hear Danny saying softly to his nearest companion, 'I've always thought there was something crazy about these scientific types, and this isn't making me change my mind.'

Presently everyone fell silent, if a little more alert to the night sea around them, and it was then that Kane came over to join me, dropping his voice very slightly to address me alone.

'Er – this got anything to do with your brother, Mr Trevelyan?' he asked as though idly.

I was wary. 'Why do you ask?'

'Well, he was in the same line of business, wasn't he? And he died not very far from here. Wasn't he looking for something with another bloke?'

I looked into the darkness towards the north-east where the Tuamotus lay a hundred miles on the other side of the invisible horizon. 'Yes, he died near here, but I don't think that he had anything to do with this. I'm not the boss, you know. This is Mr Campbell's party.'

Kane chuckled derisively. 'Looking for Minerva! That's like looking for a nigger in a coal-black cellar – the little man who wasn't there.' He stayed on for a bit but, getting nothing more from me, he moved away and I could hear him chuckle again in the darkness. I realised that my fists had been clenched at my sides.

Next day we were up before the sun, waiting to take a sight and hoping there would be no clouds. Taking a dawn sight is tricky and a bit uncertain, but we had to know if possible how far we had drifted during the night, or the search would be futile.

I was with Geordie, holding the stopwatch, as I told him about Kane's query. 'Becoming inquisitive, isn't he?' he commented.

'I don't know, it was a natural question.'

'I'm not sorry you told the lads, by the way. Otherwise they'd be getting edgy. If you were on board a ship that suddenly started to go in circles in the middle of the Pacific you'd like to know why, wouldn't you? But I wonder about Kane – he tied it up with Mark pretty fast.'

'He tied it up in a natural way. Damn him, he makes a good case for himself as an innocent, doesn't he?' I heard the bitterness in my voice and was glad to be distracted. 'Ah, here's the sun.'

Geordie shot the sun and then said, 'Well, let's find out where we are.' We went into the chartroom and he worked out our position which he then transferred to the chart.

'We've drifted about seven miles in the night. There's a set of just over half a knot to the south-east. Right, now that we know where we are we can figure out where we're going.'

We started on the search. Geordie had the man up the foremast relieved every hour because the glare from the sea could cause eyestrain. He stationed another man in the bows with strict instructions to keep a watch dead ahead – he didn't want Minerva to find us. That might be catastrophic.

The day was a dead loss. It had its excitements as when Minerva was sighted only to turn out to be dolphins playing over the waves, to the delight of Clare and the other landsmen. Otherwise there was nothing. We hove-to again and waited out another night.

And the next day was largely a repetition. The last leg of the search took us directly over both reported positions, and we were anxious about it because the wind had veered northerly and the waves were confused, showing white caps. In the evening we held a conference in the chart room.

'What do you think?' asked Campbell. He was at his most brusque and edgy.

'We could have missed it in the last three or four hours. Those white horses didn't make things any easier.'

Campbell thumped the table. 'Then we do it again. Not all of it – the last bit.' He was very dogged about it.

Geordie looked at me. 'Tell me something; when you find Minerva what are you going to do with her?'

'Damn it, that's a silly question,' I said, then immediately had second thoughts as I saw what he was getting at.

'We're probably within five miles of Minerva right now. You said that the conditions that created our prize nodules were local, in your estimation. What exactly did you mean by "local"?'

'I won't know until I find it. It could be an area often square miles – or it could be fifty thousand.'

'I think you should drop your dredge around here and see what you can find. We could be right on top of your "locality".'

I felt very foolish. In the mixture of anticipation and boredom that had gone into our two-day search so far I had actually forgotten what we were really here for- and I'd made plans for action earlier in the trip. 'You're right, Geordie. We've wasted some time and it's my fault. Of course we can dredge and keep a lookout for Minerva at the same time.'

Campbell and Clare cheered up visibly. The prospect of doing something other than cruise gently back and forwards was enticing, and I wondered how long it would be before their fresh interest waned once again. I didn't have any hopes of a great find.

So I started to get the winch ready for operations. The seas were choppy and flecked with white and Esmerelda was lurching a bit as the dredge went over the side. As we'd done the drills before things went fairly smoothly, though I'd had to take the Campbells aside with a strong suggestion that they should not appear too eager – to the others this was to be a standard research procedure. The recording echometer was registering a little under 15,000 feet.

We dredged two sites that day and five the next. On two occasions operations were interrupted when something was sighted that looked very much like a coral reef, lying some twenty feet under the water, but on both occasions this turned out to be masses of a greenish algae floating on the surface, and we had our share of false alarms when fish shoals were seen. I was kept very busy in the lab analysing the stuff we had brought up, which often included volcanic particles amongst the other material – this pleased me as it bore out some of the theories I was turning over in my mind. We recovered many nodules but test results were poor and disappointing to the others, if not to me. I hadn't expected anything.

I showed a sheaf of papers to Campbell at breakfast, away from the crew. 'Just the stuff you might expect from round here. High manganese, low cobalt. In fact the cobalt is lower than usual – only. 2 per cent.'

Geordie said, 'We've only been dredging west of where we think Minerva is- how about a stab at the eastern side?'

I agreed and he said, 'Right, we'll go there today.'

There wasn't much point in pulling the winch down and making sail for such a short trip so we motored across the few miles, starting immediately after breakfast. The sea was calm again with just the trade wind swells and no whitecaps, which would make the search easier.

It was Ian Lewis's watch and he had given me a spell at the wheel. I wasn't much of a practical seaman and I wanted to learn while I could, during periods of calm weather, under the watchful eyes of Ian or Geordie.

Clare was sitting talking to me. 'Isn't this the life,' she said. 'I had flying fish for breakfast this morning. Taffy saved them for me – I think he's falling for me.'

'Your dad isn't enjoying it,' I observed.

'Poor Pop, he's so disappointed. He's like this on every new project though, Mike. As long as it's going well he's on top of the world, and when it isn't he's down in the dumps. I keep telling him he'll get ulcers.'

'Like gout, it's supposed to be the rich man's ailment. That should cheer him up,' I said. 'It's only'

Danny Williams's voice soared up from the bows, cracking with excitement.

'Go left! Go left! Go to port!'

Someone else started shouting.

I spun the wheel desperately and Esmerelda heeled violently as she came round. Hanging on, I had only time to see a jumble of white waters in the sunshine, and then to my intense relief Ian was with me, taking over at the wheel. I fell away from him, cannoning into Clare who was also off balance. Shouts and the thud of bare feet told me that the whole crew was tumbling up on deck to see what was happening. I noticed the echo sounder and in one incredible second I saw the indicator light spin round the dial. It looked as though the bottom was coming up to hit us.

Ian let Esmerelda continue to go about until the foaming area in the sea was well behind us, then straightened her out and the indicator light of the echo sounder spun the other way just as fast. He throttled the engine down and I took a deep breath to steady myself. Geordie came running along the deck.

'What the hell was that?' he shouted.

'I think we damn near speared ourselves on a reef – I think we've found her,' I gasped, still winded. Everyone was crowding to look astern at the jumble of white waters, but from where we were it was already impossible to see anything underneath it. 'Unless it's more fish'

Ian said, 'No, it was a reef. I saw it – about a foot sticking out. And we shoaled bloody fast just then too.'

Campbell came up from below, looking startled and groggy. He may have been asleep. 'What's happened?'

'I think we've found Minerva.'

He looked aft and saw what we were all trying to get a better glimpse of. 'What, that?' he asked incredulously.

'Is that all?' Clare asked. Some of the crew, the non-sailors, looked equally baffled.

'What did you all expect – the Statue of Liberty?' I asked.

'We've got it, boys, wherever it is we're there!' Geordie was exultant and relieved, and more nervous for the safety of his ship than ever.

Danny Williams came aft to a little storm of back-patting. 'Good job you kept your eyes open,' I told him, and he looked very pleased.

'God, I was never so scared in my life,' he said. 'It came out of nowhere – now you see it, now you don't. I thought the bloody boat was going to ride up on it. You were pretty handy with that wheel.'

There was another murmur of assent and it was my turn to look pleased.

Geordie said to Ian, 'I want you to keep her just where she is. I'll bet that if we lay off a couple of miles we'll never find it again. Christ, it's lucky it's almost low water, it wouldn't show at all otherwise. It'll only dry out to about three feet at this rate.'

'There'll be coral clusters all round,' I said, reinforcing Geordie's warning. 'And deep water between them and the actual reef. There'll be a lagoon beyond that. An atoll is forming.'

I saw that they were all taking an interest, apart from Ian and the on-watch lookouts, so I expanded a little. 'This rock spear that was underneath us can't have been there very long, or it would have been higher – you'd have an island here. But this coral has only just started to form.'

Geordie said suspiciously, 'What do you mean by "only just"?'

'Within the last five or ten thousand years – I'll know better when I can take a closer look at it.'

'I thought you'd say that. But you're not going to look at it. Do you think we could get to the middle of that little lot?'

We all looked back towards Minerva, if Minerva it was. 'No,' I said dubiously. 'No, perhaps not.'

Campbell had a question on his lips that he was dying to ask, but not in public. Headshakes and heavy gestures indicated his desire for a private word, so I extricated myself from the still excited crew and followed him below together with Clare.

Campbell said, 'I'm sorry to interrupt the course of pure science, but how does this tie in with the nodules? Do you think we're going to be luckier now?'

I said soberly, That's just the trouble; I don't see how we can. Most nodules are very old, but Mark's was comparatively young. He had a theory which I'm beginning to grasp, to do with them forming very fast as a result of volcanic action. Now there's been volcanic action here all right but much too long ago for my taste. There's been time for a long slow coral growth and it doesn't quite tie in.'

'So this is another goddam false alarm,' said Campbell gloomily.

'Maybe not. I could be wrong. We can only find out by dredging.'

So we dredged.

As soon as he could Geordie had taken careful sightings of the reef. 'I'm going to nail this thing down once and for all,' he said. Then we'll cruise around it carefully and not too closely, keeping an eye on the depth, and take soundings and chart everything we can see. And then we'll decide what to do next.'

After we had satisfied him we got started. Geordie took Esmerelda in as close as he dared and the dredge went over the side. I could imagine it going down like a huge steel spider at the end of its line, dropping past the incredible cliffs of Minerva, plunging deeper and deeper into the abyss.

The operation was negative – there were no nodules at all.

I was unperturbed. 'I was expecting that. Let's go round and try the other side again.' So we skirted the shoal and tried again, with the same result – no nodules.

I thought that there probably had been nodules in the area, but the upthrust of our friendly reef had queered the pitch. We were all calling it Minerva by now, although Geordie and I were aware that it might be a different reef altogether – the seas hereabouts were notorious for vigias. I decided to try further out, away from the disturbance.

This time we began to find nodules again, coming in like sacks of potatoes. I was busy in the lab once more but becoming depressed. 'This is standard stuff,' I told my small audience. 'High manganese – low cobalt, just as before. And it's too deep for commercial dredging. But we'll do it thoroughly.' And day after day the dredging and the shifting of position went on, with the results of my assays continuing to be unfruitful.

Then one evening Geordie and I consulted with one another and decided to call it off. We had been out from Panama for over two weeks, nearly three, and I was anxious to carry on to Tahiti to be there before the Eastern Sun arrived. Geordie wasn't anxious over stores or even water -thanks to his careful planning we could stay at sea for up to six weeks if we needed to – but he felt that the activity, or lack of it, would begin to irk a crew which was after all partly made up of people to whom he'd virtually promised action and excitement. Campbell was quite ready to chuck the whole thing in -on a land search he would be more tenacious, but then he was seldom out there himself during the early exploratory days, usually only coming in at the kill, so to speak. And so we decided to call a halt to the proceedings and to turn towards Tahiti the next morning. The news was greeted with relief by everyone, the excitement of finding the reef we were searching for having palled. Campbell walked heavily across the deck towards the companionway, his shoulders stooped. I realized for the first time that he wasn't a young man.

'It's hit him hard,' I said.

'Aye,' said Geordie. 'What do we do now – after Papeete?'

'I've been thinking a lot about that. If it hadn't been for that damned diary then Minerva Reef would be the last place I'd go looking for high-cobalt nodules, but Mark's scribbling has hypnotized us.'

'We don't even know if he meant Minerva. Do you think he was on the wrong track?'

'I don't know what track he was on – that's the devil of it. I only leafed through those notebooks of his before they were stolen, and I couldn't absorb anything much in that time. But one thing did keep cropping up, and that was the question of vulcanism.'

'You mentioned that before,' said Geordie. 'Are you going to put me in the picture?'

'I think another little lecture is in order- and I'll deliver it to Campbell and Clare as well. It'll give him something else to think about. Get the three of you together in here after dinner, Geordie, and put a lad on watch, to keep Kane away. They'll be expecting a council of war anyway.'

And so later that same evening I faced my small class, with a physical map of the seabeds of the world unrolled on the charitable.

'You once asked me where manganese came from and I told you from the rivers, the rocks and from volcanic activity. And I've been doing a bit of serious thinking about the latter class. But to start with, the Pacific is full of nodules while the Atlantic hasn't many. Why?'

The professorial method, involving the class in the answers always works. 'You said it had something to do with sedimentation,' Geordie recalled.

That's the orthodox answer. It's not entirely wrong, because if the sedimentation rate is high then the nodules stop growing – they get covered up and lose contact with the seawater – the colloidal medium. The sedimentation rate in the Atlantic is pretty high due to the Amazon and Mississippi, but I don't think that's the entire explanation. I want to show you something.'

We all bent over the map.

'One fact about the Pacific stands out a mile; it's ringed with fire.' My pencil traced a line, beginning in South America. 'The Andes are volcanic, and so are the Rockies.' It hovered over the North American Pacific coast. 'Here's the San Andreas Fault, the cause of the San Francisco earthquake of 1908.' My hand moved in a great arc across the North Pacific. 'Active volcanoes are here, in the Aleutians and all over Japan. New Guinea is very volcanic and so are all the islands about there; here is Rabaul, a town surrounded by six cones -all active. There used to be five, but things stirred up a bit in 1937 and Vulcan Island built itself up into a major cone in twenty-four hours and with three hundred people killed.'

I swept my hand further south. 'New Zealand – volcanoes, geysers, hot springs – all the indications. South again to the Antarctic and you have Mount Erebus and Mount Terror, two bloody big volcanoes. And that completes the circle – a round trip of the Pacific.'

I turned my attention eastward. The Atlantic is pretty quiescent, volcanically speaking, except perhaps for the Icelandic area. There was the enormous Mount Pelee eruption down here in the Caribbean but as you can see that's only just off the Pacific ring – and Krakatoa is in it, over Java way. The only place you find nodules in any quantity is on the Blake Plateau – and the interesting thing about that is that the Plateau is exactly where the current runs from the Caribbean, which I've already mentioned as being volcanic.'

Geordie straightened up from the map.

'You've got a hell of a lot of places to choose from.'

That's the problem. And there are vents in the Pacific seabed which we don't know about – hell, we're almost on top of one now. But I know that high-cobalt area exists and I'll stake my reputation that we find it in a volcanic area.'

Campbell said, 'As I understand you correctly, the nodules in the Pacific, the ordinary ones which occur in the greatest number of places, have been slowly growing through millions of years as a result of long-ago volcanic activity. But you think there are places where certain nodules might grow faster due to specific and recent volcanic activity.'

That's it – and they'll be high-cobalt, high-nickel and so on because of the fast growth. The metals will be entrapped while they're still around, before they're dispersed into the general waters of the Pacific.'

'Urn. That still doesn't tell us where to look.'

'I want to stick around the Western Pacific,' I said intensely. There are plenty of known undersea vents here, and it's better fossicking round here than wasting our time.' I had other reasons, of course – I wanted to begin my investigation into my brother's death, but I was only too well aware that in Campbell's eyes the commercial venture was the main, perhaps the only reason for our carrying on. He had some personal stake but not necessarily enough.

There was a lot to think about, and talk fell away. Presently Geordie spoke up. 'All right, let's get on to Papeete and see what we can decide on the way,' he said with finality.

We sailed for Tahiti, first heading south to skirt the Tuamotus, and then on a direct course. Geordie didn't want to sail through the Tuamotus unless he had to; the name, he told us, meant 'The Dangerous Isles' and they were every bit as dangerous as the name implied, a vast area of coral atolls and sharp-toothed reefs, not all of them charted.

I judged we should arrive in Papeete just about the same time as the Eastern Sun, if she kept to her published schedule. I certainly hoped we would arrive first – I didn't relish leaving Paula there without protection.

Campbell perked up on this leg of the voyage, gradually returning to his old aggressive self, abetted by Clare. We had talked further about the possibilities ahead of us and I had tried to persuade him that I wasn't taking him on any wild-goose chases, but in fact I had nothing much to go on myself, and was feeling very bothered by this. Clare was back to poring over Mark's diary, trying to unravel a few more mysteries. I almost hoped she wouldn't – we'd had enough trouble over the Recife de Minerve. She had hidden the transcript and the photostatted drawings, but had first made copies of these into her own notebook, and studied them covertly from time to time.

It was pleasant enough sailing but not as invigorating as the first part of the trip out from Panama. In spite of the decision to make a new beginning we were all a little depressed, and had all been at sea for a long time. We felt the urge to tread firm ground again.

So it was with relief that everyone heard Geordie's announcement that Tahiti was within easy reach and would be sighted at any time. We were having lunch on deck and conversation was relaxed and easy. Clare sat a little way from the rest of us, still studying those damned drawings.

'Land – dead ahead!' Taffy Morgan hailed, and we all scrambled to our feet to get our first sight of Tahiti. There was only a small smudge on the horizon and we had a long while to go before we would see any more detail. We praised Geordie's navigation and then stood lounging at the rails watching the smudge gain sharpness when Kane came over to Clare.

'You left this on deck, Miss Campbell. It could blow over the side.'

And he held out her open notebook, with many of Mark's drawings in full view. We were all very still, looking at it.

Clare said coolly, 'Thank you, Mr Kane.'

'I didn't know you could draw, Miss.'

'I can't, not very well.'

Kane grinned and flicked at the open pages. 'Doesn't look like it,' he agreed. That's a pretty cow, mind you, but it's a pretty scraggy-looking falcon.'

Clare managed a smile as she took the book from him. 'Yes, I'll never be an artist,' she said.

Geordie said harshly, 'Kane, have you spliced that new halliard yet?'

'Just going to, skipper, no sweat.' He walked away briskly and I let my breath out. Clare said in a soft voice, 'God, I'm sorry.'

Campbell watched Kane out of sight and made sure we were out of anyone else's hearing. 'Clare, of all the damn silly things to do.'

'I said I was sorry.'

'I don't think it matters,' I said calmly. 'It's not the actual diary – none of Mark's handwriting shows. And for all we know Kane isn't aware that the diary ever existed.'

'Somebody might,' said Clare. 'That man Ramirez, he sent people to steal Mark's things – he may have known about it.'

'If Kane is a low man on the totem pole then he wouldn't know everything. I don't think it makes a bit of difference what Kane saw. Forget it.'

Clare looked at the drawings again, and suddenly a smile displaced her air of tension. 'Now that he's mentioned the cow, I think I may have one of Mark's awful puns figured out. Don't get excited though, Pop – it's only a wild guess.'

She pointed to the cow and its companion, the squashed semi-circle.

'I've been reading things, and I read somewhere that another name for the Tuomotus is the Low Islands. That's what this flatfish object is, a low island on the sea. Then he's put OR – and drawn the cow. It's two drawings for the same place – the Tuamotus.'

'For God's sake, why?' Campbell demanded.

'Cows go moo – they low.' And she burst out laughing. I had to join her and even her father started to smile as he saw the joke. If true, it was a good one. We put the incident with Kane out of our minds.

As Esmerelda drew nearer to Tahiti the sea gave place to mountains, hazy green, and then we began to see the surf breaking on the beaches as we sailed along the coast. We all turned our thoughts to cold beer ashore.

Papeete, the Pearl of the Pacific, is a pleasant town with all the usual offices – banks, a hospital, shops and so forth, but it is also a collection of tin huts set down on a tropical island and therefore a trifle squalid; but the setting is magnificent. Arriving there we tied up almost in the main street and there are not many ports in the world where you can do that. Looking over the harbour you can see the island of Moorea nine miles away, a volcano which exploded in the far past leaving a jumble of spires and peaks leaning at impossible angles, one of the most splendid sights in the world, and one which must go a long way to compensate for any inconveniences occasioned by living in Papeete.

I looked around the harbour for the Eastern Sun but there was no sign of her, so I tried to relax as we waited for customs clearance. Campbell was fretful, anxious to go ashore and see if there was anything for him at the post office. He was too much in the dark concerning the Suarez-Navarro expedition. I wasn't any too patient myself. I had questions to ask and I wanted to try and see the Governor. I believe in starting at the top.

At last a customs officer arrived, gave us a leisurely scrutiny and departed, leaving us free to go ashore. I had asked him when the Eastern Sun was due, and one of life's rare miracles occurred.

The cruise boat, m'sieur? She come any time, I 'ave 'eard on ze radio. She is due tomorrow.'

I spoke to Geordie before everyone vanished. 'Who are the two toughest chaps you have?'

'Ian Lewis for one,' he said promptly. Then it's a toss-up between Taffy and Jim Taylor.'

'Whoever it is must be good at unarmed combat.'

Then it's Ian and Jim. Taffy's the knife expert. Who do you want laid out?'

'Paula Nelson will be in tomorrow, on the Eastern Sun. And this place is unhealthy for her. When it comes in I want you to go and meet her, because she'll recognize you, and I want you to take the others along, collect her and bring her back here – unhurt. Anyone who tries anything is to be stepped on hard.'

He listened carefully and then nodded. I knew she'd be in good hands.

'Right. I'll leave you to your own filthy devices, Geordie. We'll want to get refitted so that we could leave almost any time, so warn the crew not to stray. Anyone who ends up in gaol stays there. I'm going to try for an interview with the Governor.'

There was a lot of mail for Campbell at the main post office. He was back even before I went ashore, clutching a sheaf of papers and disappearing below with Clare. I hoped he'd let her out some time, and it occurred to me to ask her to dine with me that night. It would be nice not to eat surrounded by the others, but nicer still with Clare along. I collected a file from my cabin and set out for Government House, and discovered it to be a rambling edifice in Late Tropical Victorian set in a large garden.

I had, as I expected to have, a royal tussle with batteries of underlings, secretaries and so forth, but I was persistent and was at long last shown to a room to await a summons for a brief meeting with the Governor. He was a tall, cadaverous man with a thin hairline moustache, sitting behind an imposing desk cluttered with papers. He did not rise but stretched his hand out to me across the table.

'M. Trevelyan, what can I do for you? Please sit down.'

I said, Thank you for seeing me, Monsieur- er'

'My name is MacDonald,' he said surprisingly, and smiled as he saw my expression. 'It is always the same with you English – you cannot understand why I have a Scottish name -but you should know that one of Napoleon's Marshalls was a MacDonald.'

It appeared that this was one of his usual opening gambits with English visitors, so I said politely, 'Are you any relation?'

'My father thought so, but many Scots settled in France after the abortive revolutions in the eighteenth century. I, myself, do not think I am descended from a Marshall of France.' He became more businesslike. 'How can I help you, M. Trevelyan?' His English was fluent, with hardly a trace of. accent.

I said, 'About a year ago my brother died in the Tuamotus, on one of the smaller atolls. There appears to be some mystery about his death.'

MacDonald raised his eyebrows. 'Mystery, M. Trevelyan?'

'Do you know anything about it?'

'I am afraid I have no knowledge of the death of your brother. For one thing I am new here, and am merely the Acting Governor; the Governor of French Oceania is away on leave. And also one would not recall the details of every death, every incident in so large a jurisprudence as this one.'

I wouldn't describe my brother's death, possibly his murder, as an incident myself; but no doubt the Governor would see it differently. I managed to express my disappointment without actually dismissing myself from his office, which had clearly been his wish, and he settled back to hear me out.

'We will have something on the files,' he said, and picked up a telephone. While he was speaking I opened my own file and sorted out documents.

He replaced the receiver. 'You spoke of some mystery, M. Trevelyan.'

'Mark – my brother – died on an unnamed atoll. He was treated by a Dr Schouten who lives on an island called Tanakabu.'

MacDonald pulled down his mouth. 'Did you say Dr Schouten?'

'Yes. Here is a copy of the death certificate.' I passed a photostat across the desk and he studied it.

This seems to be quite in order.'

I said sardonically, 'Yes, it's a well filled-in form. You note that it states that my brother died of peritonitus following an operation to remove a burst appendix.'

MacDonald nodded. I was going to continue but I was interrupted by the appearance of a clerk who put a file on MacDonald's desk. He opened it and scanned the contents, pausing halfway through to raise his head and look at me thoughtfully before bending his head again.

At last he said, 'I see the British Foreign Office asked for details. Here is the letter and my superior's reply.'

'I have copies of those,' I said.

He scanned the papers again. 'All seems in order, M. Trevelyan.'

I pushed another photostat across the desk. This is an attested copy of a statement made by an English doctor to the effect that he removed my brother's appendix several years ago.'

It didn't take for a moment and then suddenly it sank in. MacDonald started as though I'd harpooned him and picked up the photostat quickly. He read it several times and then put it down. 'It looks as though Dr Schouten made a mistake then,' he said slowly.

'It seems so,' I agreed. 'What do you know about him?'

MacDonald spread his hands. 'I've never met him – he never comes to Tahiti, you understand. He is a Dutchman and has lived in the Islands for about twenty years, administering to the people of the Tuamotus group.'

But I remembered his wry mouth and sensed that he knew more.

'He has a problem, hasn't he? Is he an alcoholic?'

'He drinks, yes – but everyone does. I drink myself,' said MacDonald in mild rebuke. He was not going to commit himself.

'Is he a good doctor?'

There have never been any complaints.'

I thought about Schouten, living in a remote group of islands far from the administrative centre of Papeete. Complaints about his professional capacity would have a way of dying on the vine, especially if most of his clientele were local people.

I said, 'Did Dr Schouten come to Papeete to report my brother's death?'

MacDonald consulted his file. 'No, he didn't. He waited until there was a convenient schooner and then sent a letter together with the death certificate. He would not leave his hospital for so long a journey for one death – there are many,. you understand.'

'So no one saw my brother except Dr Schouten and the two men who found him – and no one has made any investigation, no one has questioned Kane or Hadley or the doctor?'

'You are wrong, M. Trevelyan. We are not standing in Hyde Park Corner in the midst of a modern civilized metropolis. The Tuamotus are many hundreds of miles away and we have but a small administrative staff – but I assure you that questions were asked. Indeed they were.'

He leaned forward and asked coldly, 'Are you aware, M. Trevelyan, that at the time of your brother's death he was suspected of murder, and a fugitive from the police?'

'I did hear that cock-and-bull story. It must have been convenient for your police department to have such a tidy closing of the case.'

He didn't like that and his eyes flickered. 'Here in French Oceania we have a peculiar problem. The islands have an enviable reputation, that of an earthly paradise. Consequently, men are drawn here from all over the world, hoping to live in ease and comfort. They think they can live by eating the fruit from the trees and by building a little thatched hut. They are wrong. The cost of living here is as high as anywhere else in the world.

These men who come here are often, not always, the failures of civilization. Most go away when they find that the islands are not the paradise of reputation. Others stay to cause us trouble. Our work here is not to aid the degenerate sweepings, but to maintain the standard for our own people. And when an unknown white who is already in trouble dies we do not make too much fuss.'

He tapped the file. 'Especially when there is a valid death certificate, apparently in order, especially when we think he may be a murderer, and very especially when he evaded the Tahiti police and ran away to die on some atoll two hundred miles from here.'

I kept my self-control with some difficulty. 'Yes, I understand all that, but will you make an investigation now? My brother, as. you will see in there, was a scientist, not a beachcomber. And you will admit that there is something wrong with the death certificate.'

MacDonald picked up the doctor's statement. True, a man cannot have appendicitis twice. Yes, we will certainly interview the doctor again.' He made a note on his pad. 'I will appoint an officer to interview him personally, rather than send a message to the local authorities. It will be done as soon as he next goes out to the Tuamotus.'

He leaned back and waited for my thanks.

'When will that be?' I asked.

'In about three months' time.'

Three months!'

'Your brother is already dead, M. Trevelyan. There is nothing I can do to bring him back to life. We also are busy men; I administer an area of over a million square miles. You must realize that the government cannot come to a stop while we'

'I am not asking you to stop the government. All I'm asking is that you investigate the death of a man!'

'It will be done,' he said levelly. 'And we will find that the doctor has made an honest mistake. Perhaps he confused two patients on the same day. That is nothing new, but it would be a pity to ruin him for one mistake. We need doctors in the islands, M. Trevelyan.'

I looked into MacDonald's eyes and realized I was up against a stone wall. Nothing would be done for three months and then the whole affair would be hushed up, covered in a web of red tape.

I wrote my lawyer's address on a piece of paper. 'I would be obliged if you would let me know the results of your investigation. You can write to that address.'

'I will let you know, M. Trevelyan. I am sure there will be a simple explanation.' He half stood up, clearly dismissing me.

I went immediately to the British Consul and got no joy. He was urbane and civil, pointing out that everything Mac-Donald had said was true and that the only thing to do was to wait. 'They'll investigate the matter, don't you worry, Mr Trevelyan. If old Schouten has made a mistake they'll find out.'

But he didn't sound convincing even to himself.

I said, 'What kind of man is this Schouten? I gather you know him.'

The consul shrugged. 'An old Islands type – been here for years. He's done some good work in the past.'

'But not lately?'

'Well, he's getting old and'

'Hitting the bottle,' I said viciously.

The consul looked up sharply. 'Don't blame him too much for that. He lost his entire family when the Japs invaded New Guinea.'

I said bitterly, 'Does that excuse him for killing his patients?'

There was no reasonable answer to that, and I pulled myself together and changed the subject slightly.

'Have you heard of a man called Jim Hadley?'

'A big Australian?'

'That's the man.'

'Of course he's never been in here,' said the consul. 'We've no official connection, but I've seen him around. He's well known here as a rather hard-headed type, not a man to be crossed I'd say. Your brother chartered his schooner for a while.'

'Is he really that tough?'

He frowned. 'Very much so. Not a consular tea party type at all. I wouldn't recommend him.'

'What about a man called Kane?'

'Is that the other Australian? His partner, I think – I've seen him with Hadley. It's the same answer, I'm afraid; I've never spoken to him.'

Tell me honestly – do you think the administration is dragging its heels in this matter?'

He sighed. 'I'll have to speak bluntly, Mr Trevelyan. When your brother died he was on the run from the police. He was suspected of murder.' As I was going to interrupt he raised his hand. 'Now, don't tell me that's ridiculous. Most murderers have brothers, like yourself, who refuse to believe anything ill of their kin, especially at first hearing.'

That wasn't what I was going to say, but I kept my mouth shut.

'When he died, complete with death certificate signed by a qualified medical man, the police called off the hunt, and quite naturally so in my opinion. At the present time the administration has a hell of a lot on its plate, and they had no reason to suspect anyone else. But they'll get around to investigating the new evidence you've brought them sooner or later.'

'When the trail is totally cold.'

'I do see your point,' he said. 'I don't think I can do anything about it. But I'll try.'

And with that I had to be content.

When I reboarded Esmerelda I felt blue. I think I had expected my news to come with a devastating shock, and it had been dismissed as a hiccup. Clare was on deck and she said sunnily, 'Isn't this a beautiful place?'

'It stinks,' I said sourly.

'What are you mad at? You look as though you wouldn't care if the whole island sank into the sea.'

'It's these damn colonial French. Justice – but at a snail's pace. The British here aren't much better either.'

'No dice with the Governor?'

'Oh, they'll make a new investigation in three months – or three years. He doesn't want to lose his precious Dr Schouten. If he looks too closely he might have to arrest the doctor for unprofessional conduct and he doesn't want to do that, so he's going easy on the whole thing – sweeping it under the carpet in the hope that it'll be forgotten. He's got much more important things to do than to find Mark's killer.'

She was sympathetic and I began to loosen up a little. After a while I even felt cheerful enough to ask her to dine with me, and to my delight she agreed at once. I excused myself and went in search of Geordie, whom I found tinkering with the engine in company with two of the crew. Everyone else had vanished ashore. I took Geordie aside and told him what had happened.

He wiped the oil from his hands and said, 'Then you're stymied.'

'Looks like it, as far as authoritative aid goes.'

'Now's the time to put some pressure on Campbell. You won't get anywhere without him if you want to see Schouten. It's a pity you can't interpret one of those drawings to read Tanakabu – or perhaps you can scare up some good scientific reasons for going there.'

'As well there as anywhere,' I said morosely. 'I'll work on it.'

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the town and picked out a restaurant for the evening, and when it came Clare and I took ourselves off for an enjoyable time during which we both avoided any of the subjects concerning the voyage, and got to know each other better. Campbell had booked himself and Clare into a hotel for the time we were to stay in Papeete, but I had declined his suggestion that I too make such an arrangement, so at the end of the evening I escorted Clare to her new temporary home and came back to the ship feeling weary but reasonably happy.

Early the next morning I saw the Eastern Sun enter harbour. Geordie disappeared with Ian and Jim, and I wandered on deck to find Danny Williams just reboarding.

'Morning, Mike,' he said. 'Just back from me detective stint.'

'What's all this?'

The skipper arranged for some of us lads to keep an eye on Kane. Yesterday he was at the post office and suchlike, and then he holed up in a spot called Quin's Bar. I had Nick follow him today, and I've sent Bill down to hang around Quin's again – we think it's his meeting-place. Yesterday he was asking for someone there.'

'Good enough,' I said. 'Why not yourself, though? Tired of playing copper?'

'I thought I'd better pull out. I followed Kane all over Panama and I thought that if I did the same here he might twig.'

I nodded in satisfaction. Danny was using his brains. After a while Campbell and Clare came on deck, clearly rested and ready for a fresh start, and I decided that this was as good a time as any to work on him. But he anticipated me.

'Clare's been telling me that you want to go and see this Schouten.'

I looked at Clare. I hadn't told her that but she must have been reading my mind, and I was grateful. I said, 'Under the circumstances, I thought it might be a good idea.'

Campbell frowned. 'I don't know about that.' He dug into his pocket and produced a letter. 'Suarez-Navarro are on the move again – heading towards Rabaul. They should be there by now.'

'Do you know if they're doing any dredging?'

He shook his head. 'My man doesn't say, but I don't think he could know without a flyover.'

'Do you want to follow them?'

Campbell shook his head again irritably as though shaking flies away. 'It's not what I want to do. You don't seem to know where to go next, and apparently Ramirez does. Maybe we should follow him.'

I looked up and saw a small party coming on board, Paula Nelson diminutive between Ian and Jim, Geordie shepherding her with her suitcase. 'Miss Nelson's here,' I said. 'Let's see where this leads us. If she can identify Hadley for me here we may not have to go and see Schouten.'

Campbell and Clare had been told that Paula was coming to Papeete and were both full of curiosity about her. I went over to greet Paula, who looked frankly delighted to see me, and introduced her. I cocked an eye at Ian, who grinned easily. 'No trouble,' he said. 'No one tried anything.'

Thanks, fellows. We're glad to see you, Paula. Did you have a good trip?'

'It was wonderful! I've never been on one of those big cruise ships before. And say – I hope you don't mind but I didn't work my passage. It was kind of fun to be one of the tourists for a change.'

'That's great,' I told her. Before I had a chance to say anything more I saw Nick Dugan coming up and speaking urgently to Geordie, who then levelled a pair of binoculars at the harbour mouth. I left Paula with the Campbells and joined Geordie at the rails.

Nick said, 'There's the man who was talking to Kane in Quin's Bar.' He pointed. 'He's just gone on board a schooner – and they're getting under way.'

I took the glasses and focused them on the schooner. A big bull of a man was standing at the wheel, apparently bellowing orders to his native crew. They were getting under way very smartly and there wasn't much time to lose. I had a sudden intuition and called Paula over sharply, thrusting the glasses into her hands.

'Look at that ship and tell me if you can identify anyone.'

She had a bit of difficulty focusing at first but then she got it and gave a shuddering gasp. 'It's Jim Hadley,' she said. 'And that's his ship, the Pearl.' Campbell snatched the binoculars and had a look himself.

'Where's Kane?' I asked urgently.

'Still at the bar, last time I saw him,' Nick said. 'Bill's on his tail.'

Ian Lewis had joined us and seemed eager and willing to go on an immediate chase. 'How soon can we get under way, skipper?' he asked Geordie.

Too long, and half the crew isn't here,' said Geordie. 'But there's no need to go chasing after him – I saw that schooner in Panama. He's following us, damn his eyes.'

I said, 'So Kane lied again in Panama. I wonder what he'll say this time?'

'He'll say that his chum Hadley is nowhere around and he'll ask if he can stay with the Esmerelda a bit longer,' Geordie guessed.

Ian looked at him and nodded thoughtfully. 'Skipper, I think it's time we all knew what was going on,' he said gently. 'Who is yon lad, anyway?'

Geordie and I exchanged glances. It was indeed high time.

He said, 'Ian, gather the lads together-just our bunch, that is, not my regular crew. We'll put you all in the picture sometime later today – somewhere ashore I think. I'll be happier with you lot in the know, anyway.'

'Come to my hotel,' said Campbell, taking over as he liked to do. 'I'll arrange for a room big enough for all of us, and we'll pool information. You too, Miss Nelson. I want a word with you, Mike.'

He led me aside.

'I feel as though we're losing out on this thing. I thought we could use Kane to feed Ramirez phoney information, but it's not working out that way. Kane is reporting our every movement, and we're learning nothing.'

I laughed. 'I bet his report puzzles Ramirez. He'd have a hell of a job trying to find the last place we dredged.'

Campbell watched the schooner Pearl going out through the pass in the reef. 'What do we do now?'

'We can't go after Hadley; we don't know where he's going and he has too big a start for us to follow. Besides these are his home waters; he could easily give us the slip. If we do anything through government channels we get wrapped in red tape. That leaves Schouten.'

'I thought you'd say that. But Ramirez is in Rabaul. What's he doing there?'

'Waiting to follow us, at a guess; when he thinks we've hit pay dirt. I'm sure Suarez-Navarro don't know any more than we do, or they'd be there. But this all started with Mark's death and Schouten was present. I think we should talk to him, if only to clear up some unanswered questions.'

He nodded. 'Clare had that idea too. She came up with the idea that perhaps all of Mark's gear wasn't returned to England – that Schouten might have some stuff stashed away. How about that?'

'I'd have to ask Paula – she might know something.'

Campbell drummed with his fingers on the mast tabernacle. 'I tell you- I'm split in two on this thing. After all, we did pull a boo-boo at Minerva, and that was a month wasted. We'll spend nearly a fortnight back-tracking to go and see Schouten and that fortnight might be precious. And God knows what Ramirez will be doing.'

He fell silent and I let him ruminate for a few minutes.

'I suppose we may find something that'll short-circuit the whole damned affair. All right, it's worth the risk. We'll go. But if we get no answers there I'm calling the whole thing off.'

I was too delighted with his decision to worry about the threat. I could take care of that later, if necessary. We went over to rejoin the two girls, who had been chatting together with Geordie.

'We're going to Tanakabu,' I told them briefly and Geordie looked very pleased, while Clare cheered softly. Paula, of course, only looked puzzled.

'Paula,' I asked, 'do you know if the stuff of Mark's that you sent home was everything of his – could he have had more elsewhere?'

'I really don't know for sure, Mike. But I don't think so. He never had much stuff while he was with me.'

I had an idea. 'Paula, you're going to join in the briefing this afternoon, which I'm sure you've realized is going to be very confidential. After all, you have a lot to contribute. But we may be going off soon after that and as I've brought you here I can't just leave you. You're my responsibility now, you know. Would you like to come along with us?'

I watched them all for their reactions. Campbell had already put on an avuncular act towards her and looked smug, as if it was his idea. Geordie merely looked resigned – now he had two women on board, and even less space to spare. Clare was the problem, but I saw that while she was being rather formal with Paula she wasn't showing any overt hostility, and she appeared to take my suggestion calmly enough, even adding a civil rider of her own.

'Why not? It would be nice for me too, I think.'

Paula looked dumbfounded. Her big dark eyes swept all of us and came back to me, and I could see that she was almost unable to conceive of the notion.

'Think about it. Have you sailed before?'

'Yes, a little. Just locally hereabouts. I was on the Pearl once, with – with a friend.'

'You can buy what you need here. It's not too rough, we eat well and you won't have to sleep in a hammock,' I said encouragingly. I also felt that she was probably the only one of us who had faith that Mark wasn't an utter bastard. It would be good to have someone along who was completely on his side.

'What do we do about Kane?' Geordie asked.

'Keep him on ice – we take him with us, if he asks to go. Which he will. Then after I've talked to Schouten we ask him some pointed questions. Until then you just watch him, Geordie.'

That'll be easy,' Geordie said. 'It's not too big a boat, you know.'