Night of Error

Chapter Five

We sailed the next day for the Tuamotus, after announcing that we were heading for Indonesia in slow stages. This was not only for the benefit of Kane, who had reacted as predicted by asking to come along on our next leg, but lest MacDonald get wind through the harbour officials that I was going to interview his precious Dr Schouten – he might have objected.

We sailed through the pass in the reef and out into the open sea, continuing west until we were out of sight of land. Then Geordie gave the order to change course northwards. Kane happened to be on the wheel and accepted the order without comment, but a couple of hours later when relieved and with the new helmsman setting a course easterly, he said to me, 'We're going the wrong way for New Britain, Mr Trevelyan.'

'Who said we were going to New Britain?' He had slipped up; New Britain specifically had never been mentioned in his hearing, but I knew he was probably thinking of Ramirez.

He covered it up well. 'Oh, I thought you'd drop anchor in Rabaul for refuelling. It's a prime spot for it,' he said easily.

'The boss has some unfinished business here,' I said briefly, and he left it at that, although I could see he was thinking hard.

I couldn't help goading him. 'I thought your pal Hadley was going to be waiting in Papeete.'

' Yair, he's a fine cobber now, isn't he? But he left a message for me – said he couldn't wait. Anyway, I don't mind giving you a hand,' he said with an air of largesse.

Kane certainly had a nerve – now he was helping us!

Geordie was careful in going through the Tuamotus, careful to the point of keeping Kane off the wheel. We still didn't know what his game was, but we didn't feel like being run ashore deliberately. Geordie kept a sharp eye on the charts and picked a way through the thousand and one islands in the archipelago, always heading for Tanakabu, away on the further side.

Clare liked the Tuamotus. 'It's just like a movie,' she said happily as she viewed an atoll on the horizon. 'Couldn't we go in closer, and have a look?'

I took her elbow. 'Come here. I'd like to show you something.' In the chartroom I pointed out our position. 'Here's that atoll – you see the marks here, extending out about three miles from the island. Do you know what they are?'

'Oh God, yes of course. Coral reefs round every one,' she said.

'Nasty and sharp,' I agreed. 'I'm as near to that atoll now as I'd like to be. We only touch on the ones with mapped entrances, otherwise it's all local knowledge hereabouts.' And I thought of Hadley, somewhere out there in Pearl. Was he following us?

'I hope we're not making a mistake,' Clare said soberly, catching my mood. 'We must find out something useful. Pop was mad enough over the fiasco at Minerva.'

'We may not find out anything concerning managanese nodules, but I hope we'll find out something about Mark. And one thing may lead to another.' I changed the subject. 'How are you getting on with Paula?'

Clare was silent for a moment, then said, 'I thought I wouldn't like her – you know, two of Mark's popsies should be wanting to scratch each others' eyes out.'

'Don't throw that in my teeth again.'

'I find I do like her, though. I've discovered that I never was in love with Mark, it was infatuation, and when I found out what a lousy creep he could be it all died. That isn't love. Paula knew what he was and it made no difference to her – she still loved him in spite of it. That takes real love – I never had it. We're not rivals any more.'

That was a relief. Two women at daggers' point can cause a hell of a lot of trouble, and especially in a small ship.

As for Paula, she was relaxed and enjoying herself thoroughly. Easily at home among the men and for once away from both danger and professional competition, she had become yet another of Esmerelda's growing assets as far as the crew went. Occasionally she sang for us in the evenings and took pleasure in her small touch of limelight. Campbell seemed to have adopted her as an unusual, but welcome, honorary niece.

When we left the main clutter of islands Geordie was able to set a course for Tanakabu without worrying overmuch about grounding. Kane was aware of this manoeuvre and again spoke to me about it. 'Where are we heading for, more research grounds?' he asked me.

I said, 'Maybe the boss wants another look at Minerva.'

He looked up at the sun. 'Making a bit too much northing for that, ain't we?'

'Or maybe he wants to have a look at Tanakabu?' I suggested, twisting the knife. It was dangerous but he'd find out soon enough.

Kane's eyes shifted. 'Has this anything to do with your brother?'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Why should it?'

'Well, old Schouten lives on Tanakabu.'

'Does he?'

'Yair, but I suppose the old bloke's dead by now. He was hitting the bottle pretty hard when I saw him. A proper old rum-dum, he was.'

I said, 'He's still alive, as far as I know.' I was tempted to play him further but fought it down.

Kane didn't say anything more, but withdrew thoughtfully, and a few minutes later I saw him heading below apparently for some more private cogitation in his cabin, which he shared with two others who were both presently on deck.

We made good time although now we were beating close-hauled against the trade wind and on the evening of the third day we were closing Tanakabu. The sun was dipping into the sea as Geordie scanned the reef with binoculars and then referred to the chart. 'We'll go in under power. The pass is a bit too narrow for comfort under sail. Stand by to hand the sails, Ian.'

He was still looking hard at the sea-pounded reef when Shorty Powell, his radio man, came up. 'I picked up a funny transmission, skipper,' he said, then glanced at me. Geordie said, 'It's okay, carry on. What was funny about it?'

'It mentioned us.'

I pricked up my ears and Geordie swung round. 'Mentioned us by name?'

'The name of the ship,' said Shorty. 'Esmerelda.' I said, 'What did they say about us?'

Shorty grimaced painfully. That's it, I don't know. I was spinning the dial and caught it in passing, and by the time I'd got back to where I thought it was the transmission had stopped. I just caught a few words "… on board Esmerelda. She's…" I tell you one thing, though. I'd lay ten to one it was an Australian talking.'

Geordie said, 'I think we'd better get Mr Campbell in on this.'

So we called him up and poor Shorty got the grilling of his life. At last Campbell said, 'Well, how far away do you think it was?'

Shorty shrugged. 'You can't tell that, not unless you've got two directional fixes on the station. But when you spend half your life listening out you get a kind of instinct. I'd say it was one of two things – a hell of a high-powered station a long way off- or a low-powered station damn close.'

'Well, man, which was it?' demanded Campbell impatiently.

'I'd say it was a low-power station close by – but don't ask me to prove it.'

'All right, thanks, Shorty. Stay around that frequency. Maybe you can pick up something else,' said Geordie.

As Shorty left and Geordie turned to his navigation again Campbell said to me, 'What do you make of that?'

'I don't make anything of it. There's not enough to go on -just that some Australian mentioned the Esmerelda.' 'It must have been Hadley,' said Campbell positively. 'I'd give my back teeth to know who he was talking to – someone on land there.'

We abandoned speculation as by then we were going in through the pass. It was getting dark and Geordie was on edge. The pass was narrow and there was a dog-leg bend in it and the darkness coupled with the four-knot current made the passage very tricky. But we got through into the lagoon and dropped anchor offshore opposite the lights of a large village. A small fleet of canoes came out to meet us and soon a number of Polynesians were climbing on deck.

I had decided not to wait until morning, but to act right away. It was only early evening, perhaps the best time to see a busy doctor, and there was the fear of being followed to spur me to action. I raised my voice. 'Where can I find the doctor -Dr Schouten?' I asked.

There was an increased babble and a stocky thickset man with an engaging grin pushed his way to the front. These boys don' spik English,' he said. They spik Franchise. I spik English. I bin to Hawaii.'

I said, 'My name is Mike – what's yours?'

'I are Piro.'

'All right, Piro. Where do I find the doctor?'

'Oh, Schouten?' Piro waved his hand. 'He round the other side water. He in – hopital. Y'un'erstan' hopital?' 'He's at the hospital, over there?'

That right.'

'How can I get there?'

'You come wit' me – I take you in jeep.'

I looked into the darkness. 'How far is it?'

Piro shrugged. 'Not far. Twenny minute maybe.'

'Will you take me now?'

'Sure. You come now.' He was suddenly cautious. 'You pay me?'

'Yes, I'll pay you.' I turned to Campbell among the jostling crowd on deck and said, 'I may as well see Schouten tonight. Tell Geordie to keep a close eye on Kane – don't let him get away. He might try.'

He said, 'I'll come with you.'

'No, I think not. But I will take an escort – Jim Taylor, I think.' I said this because he was the handiest, and grabbing him by an arm I pulled him towards me and briefly told him our errand. He smiled and nodded, and went off to find Geordie and tell him.

Campbell looked closely at me, then gripped my arm. Take it easy, son. Don't go off at half-cock.'

'I won't,' I promised. 'But by God I'll get to the truth.'

We went over the side and dropped into Piro's canoe, a leaky and unstable craft. Once ashore, Piro introduced us to his proudest possession – his jeep. It was a relic of the wave of war which had washed over the Pacific – and it looked it. Most of the bodywork was stripped and the engine was naked and unashamed, very like the naked toddlers who squalled and chattered, their eyes big at the sight of the strangers revealed in the flare of torches. We climbed in and I sat on a hard wooden box, innocent of upholstery, as Piro started the engine. It banged and spluttered, but caught, and Piro threw in the gears with a jerk and we were off, bouncing along the beach and swerving round a clump of palms dimly illuminated by the feeble headlight. It was very noisy. The sudden change from being at sea in Esmerelda was unnerving.

Piro was very proud of his jeep. 'Best car on Tanakabu,' he announced cheerfully as we winced at the racket.

'Has Dr Schouten got a car?'

'Ho, no! Doctor got not'ing – jus' stomick med'cine.'

We drove past the dark bulk of a copra warehouse and then we were on a narrow track through a palm plantation and Piro waved at it. These trees mine. All us got trees.'

'Has the doctor got trees?'

'Lil one lot, not'ing much. He too busy wit' med'cine and knife.'

We swerved inland and I lost sight of the sea, which seemed impossible on such a small island, but I could still hear the unceasing roar of the surf on the beaches, in between the car noises. After a few minutes we came back onto a beach and Piro pointed ahead. There is hopital.' In the distance was a large cluster of lights – much bigger than the village we had left. I said, That's a big hospital for a small island, Piro.'

'Ho, plenny boys come from other islands – ver' sick. Plenny wahines too. Many lepers there, an' boys wit' swells.'

A leper colony! I felt a shiver of atavistic horror. I knew intellectually that leprosy isn't particularly infectious, but of all diseases it is the most abhorred and I didn't feel like driving into a colony.

Piro didn't seem worried though, and drove blithely off the beach right into the hospital grounds, pulling up in front of a long low-roofed shack. 'Schouten is there, 'he said. 'You wan' I should wait?'

'Yes, you can wait,' I answered. 'I won't be long. Jim, don't come in with me, if you don't mind – but be ready if I call you.'

'Sure thing, Mike.' Jim leaned back and offered Piro a cigarette.

I walked up the two steps on to a long verandah and knocked on the door. A voice said, 'Ici! Ici! and I walked along the verandah to a room at the far end. It was an office, the door open, and a big man was seated at a desk, writing by the light of a Coleman lamp. There was a half-empty brandy bottle and a full glass at his elbow.

I said, 'Dr Schouten?'

He looked up. 'Oui?' 'I'm sorry. I have very little French. Do you speak English?'

He smiled and it transformed his ravaged face. 'Ja, I speak English,' he said and stood up. In his prime, he must have tipped the scales at two hundred and twenty pounds of bone and muscle, but now he was flabby and soft and his paunch had taken over. His face was seamed and lined and he had two deep clefts from the nose to the corners of his mouth, forming soft dewlaps which shook on his cheeks.

He offered me his hand and said, 'It's not often we get strangers on Tanakabu – at least not at this end of the island.' His accent was heavily Dutch but his English was as fluent as the Governor's.

I said, 'We just came in.'

'I know. I saw the lights of your ship as you came through the pass, and then I heard Piro's jeep coming.' He waved towards the window. That is why you see no patients about-sometimes they shock casual visitors, so on those occasions I keep them out of sight.'

He opened a cupboard. 'Will you have a drink?'

I said, 'My name is Trevelyan.'

Schouten dropped the glass he had taken from the cupboard and it smashed on the floor. He turned his head sharply and looked at me over his shoulder. I saw that his face had turned a sickly yellow under the tan and his eyes were furtive and haunted.

'Trevelyan?' he mumbled. He seemed to have difficulty speaking.

'Yes.'

He turned round. 'Praise be to God,' he said. 'I thought you were dead.'

I looked at him in surprise. 'Dead! Why should I be dead?'

He sat at the desk, his hands clutching the edge. 'But they said you were dead,' he said softly. His eyes were brooding and seemed to be looking at something else – something terrible.

Then I caught on – he thought I was Mark! I said, 'Who said I was dead?'

'I wrote out the death certificate – here at this desk. Mark Trevelyan was the name. You died of peritonitus.' He looked up at me and there was fear in his eyes.

I said gently, 'I'm Michael Trevelyan – Mark was my brother.'

He gave a long shuddering sigh, then his gaze dropped to the glass on his desk and he picked it up and drained it in one swallow.

I said, 'Perhaps you'd better tell me about it.' He gave no answer, merely hunching his shoulders and avoiding my eyes. 'You've said too much – and too little,' I pursued. 'You must tell me what happened to Mark.'

He was an old man, rotten with loneliness and drink and the sight of peoples' bodies falling apart and he couldn't withstand a mental hammering. There was a stubbornness in him but also a softness at the core, and I was brutal in my approach.

'My brother didn't have appendicitis – that was an impossibility. But you forged a death certificate. Why?'

He hunched over the desk, his arms before him with the fists clenched and remained silent.

'My God, what kind of a doctor are you?' I said. 'Your medical association isn't going to like this – you're going to be struck off, Schouten. Or maybe you'll be hanged – or guillotined. A man is dead, Schouten, and you're an accessory. The best thing that is going to happen to you is a gaol sentence.'

He shook his head slowly, then closed his eyes as though in pain.

'You're an old man before your time even now, and ten years in gaol won't improve you. They'll take away your brandy and you'll scream for it. Now, what happened to Mark?'

He opened his eyes and looked at me bleakly. 'I can't tell you.'

'Can't – or won't?'

The muscles of his mouth tightened and he remained stubbornly silent.

'All right,' I said. 'You're coming with us – we're going back to Papeete and you'll tell your story to the Governor. I'm putting you under civilian arrest, Schouten. I don't know if that has any validity under French law but I'll chance it. I'll give you ten minutes to collect whatever you want to take with you.'

Something happened inside Schouten and I knew I was getting to him. He jerked up his head and stared at me. 'But I can't leave the hospital,' he said. 'What will happen to the people here?'

I pushed hard. 'What will happen to this hospital when you're in gaol? Or even dead? Come on – get your things together.'

He pushed back his chair abruptly and stood up. 'You don't understand. I can't leave these people – some of them would die. I'm the only doctor here.'

I looked at him without pity. I had a cruel advantage and I had to use it – there was nothing else I could do. 'You should have thought of that before you killed my brother,' I said.

His muscles tensed and for a moment I thought he was going to jump me. I said sharply, 'You may be big, Schouten, but you're old and soft! I'm tougher than you and you know it, so stay clear of me or I'll whale the daylights out of you. I'm sorely tempted.'

His mouth twitched and he almost smiled. 'I wasn't going to attack you, Mr Trevelyan. I'm a peaceful man. I don't believe in violence – and I didn't kill your brother.'

'Then for Christ's sake, what's the matter with you? Why won't you tell me what happened?'

He sat down again and buried his face in his hands. When he raised his head I saw that his cheeks were streaked with tears. He said with difficulty, 'I cannot leave the hospital, but you must guarantee its safety, Mr Trevelyan. You see, they said – they said they'd burn the hospital.'

'Burn the hospital! Who said that?'

'What could I do? I couldn't let them burn it, could I?' What I saw in his eyes made me begin to pity him.

I said gently, 'No, you couldn't do that.'

'What would happen to my people then? I had fifty patients – what would have happened to them?'

I took the bottle and poured some brandy into a glass. 'Here,' I said, 'drink this.'

He took the glass and looked at it, then set it down on the desk. 'No. It's past time for that.' His voice was stronger. 'I couldn't help it. They made me do it – I had no choice. It was covering up a crime or losing the hospital.' He threw his arms out. 'I thought the people out there were more important than bringing a murderer to justice. Was I right?'

'What happened to Mark?' I said in an even voice.

His eyes went cold. 'You must promise protection for the hospital,' he insisted.

'Nothing will happen to the hospital. What happened to my brother?'

'He was murdered,' said Schouten. 'On a schooner out in the lagoon.'

I let out my breath in a long sigh. Now it was in the open. All the shadowy suspicions had crystallized into this one moment, and all I felt was a great pity for this wreck of a man sitting at the desk.

I said slowly, 'Tell me what happened.'

So Schouten told me. He had more colour in his face now, and his voice was stronger. His account was factual and he made no excuses for himself; he admitted he had done wrong, but all his thoughts were for his patients. It was a sad and cruel story.

'The schooner came through the pass early last year. She was a stranger, like yourselves – the only ships that put in to Tanakabu are the copra boats and it wasn't the right time for them. She entered the lagoon and dropped anchor just opposite the hospital – out there.' He nodded towards the sea.

'Two men came ashore. One was about your size, very thin. The other was a big man – as big as me. They said there had been an accident and a man was dead. They wanted a death certificate. I took my bag from the corner there and said I'd come aboard, but the big man said no, it wasn't necessary, the man was already dead, anyone could see that, and all they wanted was a bit of paper to say so.'

Schouten smiled slightly. 'I laughed at them and said what they wanted was impossible – that the body must be seen by a doctor. Then the big man hit me.' He fingered the side of his cheek and said apologetically, 'I couldn't do anything – I'm not young any more.'

'I understand,' I said. Tell me, were their names mentioned?'

'The big man was called Jim, the other man called him that. His name I don't remember. There was another name said, but I forget.'

'All right. What happened then?'

'I was astonished. I couldn't understand why the man had hit me. I got up and he hit me again. Then he pulled me up and sat me in this chair and told me to write a death certificate.'

My lips tightened. It was only too probable that the big man was Hadley and the other was Kane. I'd have a reckoning with Kane when I got back to the Esmerelda. 'I wouldn't do it,' said Schouten. 'I asked why I couldn't see the body and the other man laughed and said it was in a mess and it would turn the stomach even of a doctor. Then I knew there was something very bad going on. I think they had killed someone, and it was someone who could not just disappear -there had to be a death certificate.'

I nodded. 'What happened then?'

The big man hit me again and kept on hitting me until the other made him stop. He said that was not the way to do it. Then he turned on me and wiped the blood from my face very gently, and while the big man sat drinking he talked to me.'

'What did he talk about?'

'The hospital. He said he thought it was a good hospital and that it was doing good work in the islands. He asked how many patients I had, and I told him – about fifty. He asked if I was curing them and I said yes, some of them, but others were incurable. I just looked after them. Then he asked what would happen if there were no hospital on Tanakabu, and I said it would be a very bad thing – many people would die.'

Schouten caught my hand and said appealingly, 'I told him all this – I told him freely. I didn't know what he wanted.'

'Goon,' I said tightly.

The big man started to laugh and then he hit me once again. He said, 'That's so you'll take notice of what I'm saying. You sign that certificate or we'll burn the whole bloody hospital." '

He dropped his head into his hands. 'What could I do?' he said in a muffled voice.

I was angry, more angry than I've ever been in my life before. If Kane and Hadley had been in that room then I'd have killed them without mercy.

Schouten said brokenly, 'He said that he didn't care if he burned the patients either – it was all one to him.' His eyes looked at me in slow horror. 'He kept lighting matches as he talked to me.'

'So you signed the death certificate.'

'Ja. I made it out as they wanted, then I signed it. Then the big man hit me again and the other man said, "If you breathe a word about this we'll know it and we'll come back, and you know what will happen to this collection of grass shacks you call a hospital." Then the big man set fire to the thatch over there and while I tried to beat it out they left. They were both laughing.'

I looked over to where there was a patch of new thatching.

'What nationality were these men?'

'I lived in New Guinea once – that is an Australian mandate and I've met many Australians. These men were Australians.'

'Did you see them again?'

Schouten nodded sombrely. The big man – yes. He keeps coming back. He says he is keeping an eye on me. He comes and drinks my brandy and lights matches. He has been back -three times.'

'When was the last time?'

'About a month ago.'

That would be Hadley – not a nice character from the sound of him. There were plenty like him as concentration camp guards in Hitler's Germany but the type is to be found among all nationalities. They weren't a very good advertisement for Australia.

Schouten said, 'I didn't dare tell the police. I was frightened for the hospital.'

I ran over his terrible story in my mind. 'You don't remember the other name you heard?'

He shook his head. 'Not yet, but I think it was the third man on the boat – he was not a local crewman.'

'What other man?'

'He didn't come ashore but I saw him on the deck of the schooner – a very tall, thin man with a hooked nose, very dark. I saw him only once, when the boat was coming in.'

I thought about that but it didn't ring any bells. I said, 'I'm sorry it happened, Dr Schouten. But you realize you will have to tell the authorities now.'

He nodded heavily. 'I realize it now. But I was so afraid for my patients. This is an isolated atoll – there are no police here, no one to guard against violent men. I am still afraid.' He looked me in the eye. 'What is to prevent these men, or others like them, from coming back?'

I said harshly, 'I know who these men are. They won't trouble you again.'

He hesitated and then said, 'So. I will write a letter which you can take to Papeete. You understand, I cannot leave the hospital.'

'I understand.' This would make MacDonald sit up and take notice. I would be very pleased to deliver Schouten's letter in person.

'Will you send people to guard us right away? You have promised no harm will come to us here.'

I thought that we could leave some of the lads with him while we went back, or even send a radio message for assistance before we left. Hadley would follow us back to Papeete, if he was indeed on our trail, and a couple of Geordie's stalwarts would be more than a match for him if he landed after we'd left.

Schouten said, 'The letter will not take long, but you must make yourself comfortable while I write. You would not drink with me before – will you drink now?'

I said, 'I'd be honoured, doctor.'

He went to the cupboard and got another glass, stirring the broken pieces on the floor as he did so. 'You gave me a shock,' he said ruefully. 'I thought the dead had come to life.'

He poured a stiff drink and handed it to me. 'I am deeply sorry about your brother, Mr Trevelyan. You must believe that.'

'I believe you, doctor. I'm sorry for the rough time I gave you.'

He grimaced. 'It wasn't as rough as the time the big man gave me.'

No, it wasn't, I thought, but we'd both operated on the same raw nerve – Schouten's fears for his patients and his hospital. I felt ashamed of myself. I finished the drink quickly and watched Schouten scratching with his pen. I could see it was going to take a while, so I said, 'When will you finish?'

To tell it in detail will take a long time. Also I do not write English so well as I speak it,' said Schouten. 'If you wait, you will have dinner, of course.'

'No. I'll go back to my ship and make arrangements to leave someone here with you, when we go back to Papeete. I'll come back later tonight or early in the morning.'

Schouten inclined his head. 'As you wish. I will be glad of a guard.' He resumed his writing and I got up to go, and then just as I got to the door, he said, 'One moment, Mr Trevelyan. Something has just come back to me.'

I waited by the door and he rose from his desk. 'You were asking about the name – the one they mentioned. The big man spoke it and the other made him be quiet.'

'What was it?'

Schouten escorted me on to the verandah. As Piro saw us he started the engine of his jeep. Schouten said, 'It was a strange name – it sounded Spanish. It was Ramirez.'* 2*

We had gone a mile when the jeep broke down. The roar of the engine faded and we bumped to a halt. Piro hopped out, bent over the engine and struck a match. 'She dead,' he said in an unworried voice.

I was impatient to get back to Esmerelda. I wanted to beat Kane into a pulp. I know that no man stays angry forever -you can't live on that plane – and I was nursing my anger because I wanted to let it rip. I intended to hammer Kane to a jelly. Jim Taylor had sensed my tension and had wisely refrained from asking me any questions.

Piro struck another match and poked experimentally into the entrails of the jeep. Then he looked up and said cheerfully, 'She no go.'

'What's the matter?'

'No essence.'

I said, 'Damn it, why didn't you fill it up? Why didn't you look at the gauge – this thing here?'

'She broke.'

'All right, we'll walk – we just have to follow the beach.'

Piro said, 'No walk. Canoe along here. We walk on water.'

We followed him a couple of hundred yards up the beach to where the road turned inland and he strode to the water's edge. 'Here is canoe, sir – I take you back.'

It was only a couple of miles but it seemed longer in the darkness. We very soon saw the riding lights of Esmerelda in the clear air but it took an age to get within hailing distance. Some of the other canoes were still alongside and there was an air of festival on deck, with crew and locals apparently sharing their evening meal. Campbell, Clare and Paula were waiting at the rail as I climbed on board and they saw at once that I was in no happy mood. I said to Campbell in a low voice, 'Where's Kane?' I couldn't see him in my first sweeping survey of the deck.

'Geordie's been watching him. He's given him a job below. What happened, man?'

I said, 'That bastard – and Hadley – killed Mark.'

Paula drew in her breath with a hiss. Campbell said, 'Are you sure?'

'It may not hold in a court of law but I'm sure.' I was remembering the tears on Schouten's cheeks. 'I want to have a talk with Kane – now!'

'He doesn't look like a murderer.'

'Which one does?' I said bitterly. 'I've heard a filthy story. Ramirez was involved too.', Campbell started. 'How do you reckon that?'

'Can you describe him?'

'Sure. He's a tall, thin guy with a beak like an eagle. He's got a hell of a scar on the left side of his face.'

'That does it. He was there when Mark was killed.

Schouten saw him and described him, all but the scar, and Hadley mentioned his name. He's tied up in it all right, right up to his goddam neck – which I hope to break. But first I want Kane.'

Campbell turned to Clare and Paula. 'Go to your cabins, girls.'

Paula turned obediently but Clare argued. 'But Pop, I'

There was a whipcrack in Campbell's voice. 'Go to your cabin!' She went without another murmur and he turned to me.

'Clear this lot off,' I said. Tell Ian. Let's find Kane.'

I went down into the forecastle but Kane wasn't there, nor was he on deck. We roped in the crew and they set out to search the ship but there was no sign of him. My jaw was aching from holding it clenched for so long.

'He's skipped,' said Ian.

'Geordie – where's Geordie?' I said.

But Geordie had vanished too.

I ran up on deck to find that several of the locals were still hanging around. I shouted for Piro and he emerged from the pack.

'Can you help us find two men on the island? Can you search?'

'What men?'

'The captain and one of the crew. The captain is the big man you saw when we came. The other one is thin, tall. Stay away from him – he's dangerous.'

Piro rubbed the top of his head. 'Dan-ger-ous?'

'He's bad. He might fight – might kill you.'

Piro shrugged. 'You pay – we find.'

He dropped into his canoe with two or three of our men, and Ian was already directing the clearing of our inboard launch which was being swung over the side. Piro was shouting instructions in his own language to the suddenly galvanized locals. Campbell came up from below. 'Got a gun?' he asked me.

'I won't need a gun. I'll tear that bastard apart.'

'Come here,' he said and took me under a light. He opened his hand and I saw a round of ammunition in his palm. 'I found that on the floor by his bunk – a. 38 slug. Kane must have dropped it in his hurry and that means he's armed.'

'Christ, we must stop these natives making a search,' I said. 'We don't want any deaths.'

I turned to race on deck but he held my arm, pushing something heavy into my hand. 'Here's a gun,' he said. 'Can you shoot?'

I hung onto it tightly. 'I'll soon find out, won't I?' I stuffed it into the pocket of the light anorak I was wearing. 'You'd better stay here.'

'Son,' said Campbell, 'I'm not as old as that – not yet.'

I looked into his frosty eyes and said, 'We'd better make it snappy, then.' We ran up on deck and I dropped into the launch and looked ashore. Little spots of light were moving in the darkness, coming and going, sometimes vanishing and reappearing as the torches were occulted by the palm trees. 'Damn, they've started to search.' I turned to Ian. 'Kane's armed.'

'Let's go – I've got six – the rest are ashore already. They know the score.' The engine started first time off, which was a tribute to someone, and as we sped shorewards I said to the. men around me, 'Listen, chaps, we're looking for Geordie. If you come up against Kane steer clear of him. Don't push him too hard – he's got a gun. And as you find the natives send them back to their village.'

Taffy Morgan said, 'What's Kane done now?'

'He's killed a man,' said Campbell coldly.

There was no more talk until the boat grounded on the beach. Piro was waiting, his face alive with excitement in the light of a torch. 'Found 'im,' he said laconically.

'Which one?' I asked quickly.

He gestured. 'The big one – up in hut now.'

I sighed with some thankfulness. This must be Geordie. 'Piro, can you call your men off – stop them? They must not find the other man. He has a gun.'

Piro made a quick sign to one of his friends, who lifted a large conch shell to his lips. The mournful sound boomed out, sending its note across the plantations. I saw the lights begin to drift back to the village.

'Let's see him.'

We found Geordie in one of the huts. His face was a dreadful mess, with deep cuts and gashes across his forehead and cheeks. Piro said, 'We found 'im in trees – asleep on groun'.'

I think he had concussion because he rambled a little, but he was able to speak to us. He had seen Kane slipping ashore in one of the many canoes and had followed in another. He hadn't had time to call anyone because he was afraid of losing Kane. He had followed as Kane skirted the village and entered the trees and then he had been ambushed.

'For God's sake, who ambushed you?'

'It – must have been Hadley. A man as big as an elephant,' said Geordie painfully. 'He stepped from behind a tree and pushed a gun into my ribs. I didn't expect that – I thought Kane was on his own – and he took me by surprise. Then he I., made me turn round to face him and he started to hit me.' He was trailing off but recovered. 'With the gun. A big revolver.

It was the sight that did – this. And the bastard was laughing.

Then he hit me a couple of times on the head and I – passed out.'

He grinned weakly. 'Maybe he thought he'd killed me but I have a pretty hard head. I'm sorry I fell down on the job, Mike.'

'It's all right, Geordie. None of us expected anything like this. I'm only sorry you had to get it in the neck.'

His bloody face cracked in a grim smile. 'Add it to the account with my finger,' he said weakly. 'Give him one from me.'

'You'll have to wait your turn. There's a queue lining up for licks at Hadley – and Kane.' I stood up. 'I think we'd better get you back to the ship.'

Two of his shocked team moved in, gentling him up and setting off for the launch. The others began to gather as Piro called them to the hut. I spoke urgently to him. 'Is there another boat here – the Pearl?' I asked. If Hadley had returned several times Piro was sure to know his boat. Piro's answer shocked us all, even though we were already primed for it.

'Yes, it came 'ere. It gone by hopital-one, two hour,' he said.

'Well I'm damned,' said Campbell. 'He came through the pass behind us – in the dark and without lights. He's a bloody good seaman.'

'That doesn't make me love him any more,' I said.

A man ran into the hut and spoke to Piro rapidly in his own language, clearly distressed. Piro looked startled and gestured to me to come outside, where he pointed into the darkness. There was a fitful redness in the sky on the horizon. 'Hopital, he burn,' he said.

'Christ!'

The others crowded out to exclaim at the sight.

'How can we get there – fast – all of us?' I damned the jeep, stalled on the beach without fuel.

'Big canoe,' said Piro. 'Go fast. Faster than walk.' He ran off.

I said, 'Hadley's fired the hospital!'

Campbell looked at the glow in the sky. 'Is he plain crazy -why did he do that?' he demanded.

'He threatened to do it. No time to tell you now. We're going in canoes. Piro's gone to organize it. Now where's Ian?'

His soft Highland voice sounded at my shoulder. 'I'm here.'

Take one canoe and go back to the Esmerelda. I want her down at the hospital as fast as you can make it. There's light enough – the lagoon must be safe; you just follow the beach. Just get her there.'

He said nothing but ran off towards the beach. Piro touched me on the arm. 'Come to canoes.'

Most of us could crowd into the launch and the big canoe took the rest as well as a lot of their own men – it held twenty of us. It was also leaky but by God it was fast! The rowers put their backs into it and it skimmed across the water at a great speed leaving a wake glinting with phosphorescence, and easily keeping up with the launch.

The three miles or so to the hospital took only twenty minutes, but by that time we could see that the whole place was on fire. We could see black figures running about, outlined against the flames, and I wondered how many survivors there were. I was so intent on the scene on shore that I didn't see the ship. Campbell shook me by the shoulder and pointed.

A schooner was anchored in the lagoon just off the hospital. We wouldn't have seen her in the darkness of that terrible night but for the raging fire which gleamed redly on her white hull. I shouted to Campbell, 'What should we do -go to the schooner or the hospital?'

'The hospital – we must save the patients.'

The canoe drove onto the beach, a little way below the hospital and we all splashed ashore and ran towards the fire. I saw that Campbell had produced an automatic pistol, a strange weapon with an extraordinary long, thin barrel. I took out the revolver he had given me and pounded onward, barely able to keep up with the racing Commandoes. The whole hospital was burning fiercely, the dry thatch going up like tinder and the flames streaming to the sky in the windless night.

I ran for the open space between two burning huts and came in sight of the hospital's own landing place. A boat was just moving out and I heard the sudden sharp revving of an outboard motor over the crackle of flames.

They're getting away,' I yelled, and took a shot at them. Nothing happened – I had forgotten to release the safety catch. Campbell squatted in a half-crouch and took aim with his curious pistol, then straightened up and shook his head. Too far. I wish I had a rifle.'

'But we can't let them get away,' I raged.

Campbell shook me roughly by the arm. 'Come on!'

I took one last look at the boat disappearing into the darkness in the direction of the schooner Pearl and then raced up the beach after the others, who had already dispersed to join the rest of our crew from the launch. I heard someone shouting. 'You can't put those fires out – save the people!' and I ran across to Schouten's house.

It was no use. The place was enveloped in fire, a roaring mass of flames shooting up fifty feet into the night sky. I wondered if it was Schouten's funeral pyre, and whether he had been mercifully dead when the fires started.

I ran round the house to see what it was like at the back and stumbled across a woman sitting in the path. I recovered my balance and looked back to see that she was cradling Schouten's head in her lap. Her wails rose above the crackle of the flames. 'Aaaah, le pauvre docteur, le pauvre docteur!' I bent down and saw that her dress was scorched and torn. She had probably dragged Schouten's body from the house. When she saw me she gave a cry, scrambled to her feet and ran away screaming into the darkness beyond the hospital. She must have thought I was one of Hadley's bunch.

I dropped to one knee beside Schouten. He wasn't a pretty sight because he had been shot through the head more than once. His jaw was torn away and there was a small blue hole in the left temple. The right temple was gone – there was a ragged gap big enough to hold a fist and his brains were leaking out onto the path.

I rose and stumbled away, catching on to a tree for support. Then I vomited my guts out until I was weak and trembling, pouring sweat.

I had barely recovered when Nick Dugan rushed up to me, his face blackened with smoke, and took my arm to help me to my feet. 'You all right?'

'I'll – do.'

'Look, Mike – there's the Esmerelda. They've been quick.'

I looked across the water and saw Pearl getting under way and, beyond her, Esmerelda coming up at a hell of a lick under power, her bow wave flecked red by the reflections from the burning shore. Pearl was still moving slowly and I could see from the changing angle of Esmerelda's bow that Ian meant to try and stop her by coming hard alongside or even ramming.

But the schooner was picking up speed under her engine and slid out from Esmerelda's threatening bows. Ian changed course again to converge but just at the moment of impact Pearl seemed to spin smartly sideways and Esmerelda's bow sprit only grazed her side. As the two ships passed one another there was a fusillade of shots from Pearl and an answering staccato rattle from our ship. I wondered who had guns and who was using them.

Then Pearl was safely out of reach, heading across the lagoon for the pass in the reef, lights springing up on board as she went. Esmerelda gave up the chase and turned towards the shore, and I heard her engines stop. Saving the hospital had priority and it was too dangerous to follow the fleeing schooner in the dark.

They'd got clean away.* 3*

Dawn revealed chaos. Trickles of smoke still spiralled skywards from the gutted buildings and the patients – the survivors – huddled together on the beach with friends and the remaining hospital staff. Piro had done a count, and the death roll numbered fourteen, not counting Schouten himself.

We were all weary, scorched and depressed.

Campbell looked about him at the scene of that damned atrocity and his face was grey. 'The bastards,' he said savagely. The murdering sons-of-bitches. I'll see them hanged for this.'

'Not if I get them first,' I said.

We were crouched over a couple of benches with hot coffee in our hands, brought ashore from the brigantine. We didn't have enough on board to provide adequately for everyone but we had distributed what we could, and the villagers had brought food of their own for the shocked survivors. The few men whom Schouten had trained were performing heroic feats of first aid but much more was needed. And we had received a bad shock of our own – the morning light revealed that our ship's radio had been smashed, presumably by Kane before he jumped ship. There was no way to send for help, save by going for it in person. Ian, who had done wonders by bringing Esmerelda down the coast at night, was castigating himself for not having the radio guarded, but we persuaded him that it wouldn't have been thought necessary at the time. I hadn't even been on board to see Geordie yet, though I was assured that he was doing all right, if still confined to his bunk.

Campbell said, 'I can't see Suarez-Navarro going in for this. They're a rotten crowd, as I've told you, but this is unbelievable.' X I wasn't impressed. 'Know any English history?'

His head jerked up. 'What's that got to do with it?'

'There was an English king – Henry II, I think it was – who had a bishop as his conscience, Thomas a Becket. The legend is that the king was at dinner one day and said, "Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?" So four of his knights went off and murdered Becket in Canterbury Cathedral.'

I scraped with my foot in the sand. 'When the king found out he was horrified. He abased himself before the Church and did his penances – but he came out on top, after all – he didn't have Becket on his back any more.'

I pointed to the burnt-out hospital. 'Suarez-Navarro have a board meeting and some plump, stuffy director says, "I wish we could do something about Campbell and this interfering chap Trevelyan." So someone like Ramirez goes out and does something, and if everything gets done – and Campbell and Trevelyan get stopped – he gets a bonus paid with no questions asked. And the dividends of Suarez-Navarro pile up, and that director would faint if he saw a cut finger so he doesn't enquire too closely into how the job was done in case he gets sick to the stomach.'

'But they didn't attack us.'

'Not directly. This has more Hadley's trademark, sadistic revenge in the meanwhile. But don't think we're not in danger now.'

Campbell looked up the beach to the patients sitting in their forlorn group. He said slowly, 'Then this wouldn't have happened if we hadn't come here.'

There was a coppery taste in my mouth. 'No. Schouten was afraid of what would happen, and I told him he'd be all right. I said he'd be protected. What a bloody mess I've made of everything.'

We both fell silent. There was too much that could be said.

Clare came along the beach towards us, carrying a first aid kit. She looked drawn and pensive, but I was more attracted to her than ever. I would have liked to take her in my arms but something prevented me – and she guessed my intention and saw why I couldn't carry it out.

'Mike, your hands are burnt raw. I'll bandage them.'

I looked at my hands. I hadn't really noticed before but now they were beginning to hurt.

She got busy with my hands and spoke with her head down as she worked. 'Pop, I guess this is where you get busy with your cheque book.'

I said harshly, 'A cheque book isn't going to bring fifteen people back to life.'

'You men are damned fools,' she said and her voice was angry. 'What's done is done, and you didn't do it, though I guess you're both blaming yourselves. But the hospital is gone, and what's going to happen to the poor people here? Somebody has to do something – we can't just go away and say, Well, we didn't start the fire, even if it's true.'

'I'm sorry, Clare,' I said. 'But what can we do?'

Campbell dug his hands deep into his pockets. 'There'll be another hospital – a good one. And doctors, and good equipment. I'll endow the whole damned thing.' His voice became harder. 'But Suarez-Navarro will pay for it one way or another.'

He walked away down the beach as Clare smeared a cool emulsion on my hands. 'What's that stuff?' I asked. I had to discuss something less painful, though my throbbing hands weren't the best choice of subject in that case.

Tannic acid jelly. It's good for burns.'

I said, 'No one else has had time to tell us what happened on board. Can you? I didn't know we had guns.'

'Several of the men have them, besides Pop's little armoury. You can be awfully innocent.'

'Who was doing the shooting from Esmerelda?' 'A couple of the crew – and me,' she said shortly.

I raised my eyebrows. 'You?'

'I'm a good shot. Pop taught me.' She began to cover my hands. 'I think I shot one – and I think it was Kane.' Suddenly her voice broke. 'Oh, Mike, it was awful. I've never shot at a man, only at targets. It was…"

I was entangled in bandages but I somehow managed to get an arm around her shoulders and she buried her head on mine. 'He deserved what was coming to him, Clare. You've only got to look around you to see that. Did you kill him?'

She raised her head and her face was white and tear-streaked. 'I don't think so – the light was bad and everything happened so fast. I think I may have hit him in the shoulder. But – I was trying to kill him, Mike.'

'So was I,' I said. 'But my gun didn't go off. I'm not very good with guns, but I tried and I don't regret it.'

She pulled herself together. Thanks, Mike. I've been a fool.'

I shook my head. 'No, you're not, Clare. Killing doesn't come easy to people like us. We're not mad dogs like Kane or Hadley, but when we do come up against mad dogs I think it's our duty to try and stop them in any way we can – even if the only way is by killing them.'

I looked down at the top of her head and wished that this whole stinking business was over. It had suddenly come to me that a burnt-out hospital littered with corpses wasn't the best place in the world to tell a girl that you were falling in love with her. I would have to wait for a calm sea and romantic moonlight, with perhaps the strains of a love song echoing from the saloon.

And for the moment I was sickened of the whole chase. How Mark came to die, where his stupid treasure of cobalt lay, none of it mattered. I wanted to be done with the whole affair – bar Clare. And I couldn't get out of any of it that easily. I recognized the symptoms of exhaustion and sat up, bracing myself.

She saw the expression in my eyes and looked away quickly, but I think she read it all there. She said, 'We've got to go through with this now, Mike. We can't let Suarez-Navarro get away with it – if it is them. All this would go for nothing if we did that.'

'I know; but it won't last forever, Clare. There'll be better days coming. I'm all right now. Were any of our chaps hurt besides me?'

'Scorches, a few scrapes. None worse than you,' she told me.

'Good. We have to start getting clear of this lot, then. The local people must carry on until we can get word back.' I left her and went to where Piro was standing and was aware that she was watching me. I would have given anything to be elsewhere with her than on that beach.

I said to Piro, 'What will you do now?'

He turned a sad face to me. 'We build again. All Tanakabu people built more here – many huts. But no doctor…'

I said, 'Piro, Mr Campbell there has money, more than he needs. He will send doctors and you will get a proper hospital, like the one in Papeete. But first we must go back there and tell the police what happened here. Can you write a message forme?'

But it turned out that Piro could not write, nor even sign his name, which was a pity – I wanted a witnessed account of the event to take back, but with Schouten dead there was nobody else to turn to for it.

We buried the dead in the hospital cemetery. I asked about a priest but apparently Schouten had stood in himself for such occasions. They produced a Bible and Campbell pronounced a few words, though few of the locals could understand him. He said, 'We commit to the earth the bodies of those who are the innocent victims of a dreadful crime. "Vengeance is mine", saith the Lord, but it may be He will use men like us as His instrument. I hope so.'

Then he turned and walked away down the beach, a sad and lonely figure.

Schouten was given a grave in a place apart from the others.

I thought this might be because of differing religions, but it appeared that they wished to make his resting-place special, and it was clear that they mourned him deeply. I thought that he would have a better memorial than he might ever have realized would be his lot, and was glad of it.

The islanders were already clearing away rubble, and most of the patients had vanished into other homes, when we left that afternoon. There was nothing we could find to take with us as proof of the disaster – the hospital records and all Schouten's personal belongings had been destroyed. We took photographs, though, and I included a couple of the natives gathering round Campbell and Ian to shake their hands, as proof of our friendship, and also of the crew at the mass funeral.

As Ian conned Esmerelda out through the pass of Tanakabu he asked sadly, 'What kind of men are they to do a thing like that? You told us they were dangerous – they seem demented, Mike.'

'They must be psychopaths,' I said. 'From what I learned from the Dutch doctor Hadley certainly is.'

Shorty Powell came on deck, white-faced, at the same time that Campbell emerged looking thunderous. 'I've got something to show you,' he said, and took me down to Kane's cabin together with Ian. On the bunk lay a brown-painted gadget which Shorty had clearly recognised and shown to Campbell.

'It's a walkie-talkie, surplus American army stock, selling for about fifteen dollars each. The range on land isn't much over five miles but on water you can keep contact for?'

'Say about ten miles,' Shorty supplied.

'So that's how Hadley's schooner turned up so opportunely. And that's what that damned transmission was that Shorty picked up. You said you thought it was a low-powered job and very near, but who'd have thought it was from right here on Esmerelda?' Campbell nodded. 'We've probably been shadowed all over the Pacific. Any boat could keep hull-down on the horizon and Hadley could have cosy chats with Kane.'

I picked up the radio and looked at it curiously. 'I don't think Kane was clever enough to think of this himself. This bears the hallmark of organization.'

'Ramirez,' said Campbell decisively.

'Very likely,' I said. I was trying to read any further implications into the find when Paula came looking for me and Ian got back up on deck. 'Geordie's asking for you,' she said. She too looked tired, having spent all morning helping Clare on that dreadful beach, and I smiled and gave her a quick hug of friendship and support.

'How is he?'

'He'll be all right, but he's going to need medical care in Papeete, maybe stitches. I'm not a trained nurse, you know.' Considering the dangers we had drawn her into and the shocking things she had seen, I thought she was holding up amazingly well, but then I think toughness was bred into her.

'He may be scarred for life,' she added.

'A pistol whipping is a lousy thing. Damn Hadley!' said Campbell.

We found Geordie sitting up in his bunk, his eyes peering brightly at me through a mass of bandages. He'd been told about the fire and the smashed radio, but was avid for more.

'How are you feeling?' I asked him.

'Not so bad, considering. But I haven't heard the whole story yet. What happened last night between you and the doctor?' he demanded, and I realized with a start that so much had happened since that I hadn't had time to pass on Schouten's terrible story. Having made sure that he was well enough to listen, I gathered Paula, Clare and Campbell into the cabin. They heard me out in stunned silence.

'It's a bad thing,' I said heavily at the end.

'It is that,' said Geordie. They must be off their heads.'

I said, 'I don't think Kane's the crazy one. It's Hadley who's the lunatic, a psycho for sure. Kane's cleverer than we thought him to be, though.' I told Geordie about the walkie-talkie.

Campbell said, 'We've been played for suckers and I don't like that one little bit. But with this act I think they've outreached themselves – I have a feeling that Hadley ran amok, and even Ramirez isn't going to like it when he finds out.'

'I've been thinking, trying to put the jigsaw together, you might say,' said Geordie. 'But some of the pieces don't seem to fit.'

'Such as?'

'For one thing, you say that according to Schouten, Kane and Hadley murdered Mark, and that Ramirez was in on it. Why do you think they killed Mark?'

I said, 'I've been thinking about that. It was something that poor old Schouten said – that Hadley had laughed when he asked to see the body and said it would turn the stomach even of a doctor. What would that mean to you?'

'Knowing what we do of Hadley, it could mean torture.'

'And why should they torture Mark?' I should have felt ill at the very thought but somehow it had all become rather academic to me.

'Why does anyone torture anyone? They wanted information out of him.'

'And Ramirez was there. I think they wanted to know where the high-cobalt nodules were to be found.'

'Yes,' said Campbell. 'I've already worked that out for myself. Would Mark tell them?'

'I don't know. He'd look out for his own skin, but he was capable of being very scornful of people like them – he may not have realized that they really meant it until they got down to business, and then it might have been too late.'

The girls studied me in silence, appalled at my implication. But Geordie put it into words. 'You mean Hadley ran amok again and went too far – and he died before he could talk?'

'I think so. They clearly don't know the location, or they wouldn't be tailing us this way. So they buried their mistake, terrorized the doctor, and sent Hadley to get Mark's stuff, hoping for leads there. Hadley bungled it and let the gear slip out of his fingers – thanks to you, Paula – and so Ramirez went to England to get it back, using Kane as scout and contact man.'

'It all seems to fit,' Geordie said.

He lay back on his bunk looking suddenly exhausted, so we left him. We didn't talk about it among ourselves. We were all drained and saddened, and the trip back to Papeete was one devoid of much pleasure for any of us.

We made a quick passage and all went well until we were within about two hours of Papeete, and longing to be ashore. I planned to take Ian, Campbell and one or two members of the crew to the police as soon as we landed, leaving the others to guard the ship, especially Geordie and the girls, zealously. We had no idea where the Pearl might be but I wanted to run no risks. I was in my cabin when word came down for me to get on deck fast. Ian, who was acting skipper, pointed to a boat on our starboard beam. It was a fast launch and was cruising around us in a wide circle. 'Yon laddie's come up awful fast, Mike,' he said to me. 'He's up to something. He looks official.'

He handed me binoculars and I saw that it was a patrol boat, naval in style, even to a four-pounder quick-firer mounted on the foredeck. It had a number but no name, and as I looked it turned to approach us directly. 'You'd better call Mr Campbell,' I said.

The launch came up alongside and kept pace with idling engines about fifty yards away. An officer by the wheelhouse raised a loudhailer and a spate of French crossed the water.

I raised my arms to shrug violently to indicate that I didn't understand. Another man took the loudhailer and shouted in English, 'Heave to, Esmerelda, or we will fire.'

I looked at the gun on the foredeck. Two matelots were manning it – one had just slammed a magazine in and the other was swinging the gun around to train it just about midships.

'What the hell!' I exploded. But one couldn't argue with a four-pounder. I heard Ian giving brisk orders and the sails came tumbling down everywhere as the off-watch crewmen tumbled up on deck, Campbell among them.

'What the hell's going on?' he asked loudly.

'We're being boarded by the navy,' I said, 'in the traditional style. If we don't stop they'll open fire – the man said so.'

Campbell looked at the little gun in fascination. 'Well, I'll be double-damned,' he said. 'Pirates?'

'Not this close in. It's official.'

The sails were all down and Esmerelda lost way and started to pitch a little. The patrol boat edged nearer and finally came alongside, lines went across, and an officer jumped on board followed by three sailors. He had a revolver and the sailors were carrying sub-machine guns. Our men backed up, alarmed and disconcerted by all this, and I saw Campbell make a violent if surreptitious gesture to the girls to keep below decks.

'M. Trevelyan?' the officer barked.

I stepped forward. 'I'm Michael Trevelyan.'

A sub-machine gun lifted until the muzzle was pointed at my stomach. 'You are under arrest.'

I looked at him dumbfoundedly. 'What for?'

Campbell stepped forward aggressively. 'Now look here' he began. The officer gestured and the other two sailors lifted their weapons and there were ominous snicks as the safety-catches were released. Ian caught at Campbell's shoulder and he subsided.

The officer said, 'You will learn about it in Papeete. You will please come aboard my boat. You' He turned to Ian. 'You will accompany us in under engine. These men will stay on board with you. You will attempt nothing foolish, please.'

I looked into his cold grey eyes and realized that he wasn't kidding. I felt a sense of sick reluctance to leave the Esmerelda but there really was no choice, and I swung myself across without a word. I was briefly searched, and then led below to a cabin with a minimum of furnishing – a cell afloat -and once inside I heard the door being locked.

I was on my own.* 4*

I was pretty miserable – I didn't know what was going on, nor had I any means of finding out, though I certainly had ideas -too many of them. If only I could have talked to someone I would have felt better, but that was impossible. I wondered how they were all making out.

We went the remaining few miles into Papeete at a speed slow enough for Esmerelda to keep up, no doubt still under the threat of the gun. There were no portholes in my cabin and I couldn't hear much either, but the arrival at a jetty was unmistakable, and I braced myself for whatever was coming. Sure enough within a few minutes they were at the door, unlocking it, and then I was brought up into the sunshine to see that we were back in Papeete but not in our old position; instead it seemed to be a naval area. I saw Esmerelda tied up alongside us but there were only French sailors on deck, none of my friends to be seen. A police car was waiting for me. My legs felt like lead as I went ashore and got into it.

There was a police station, possibly the principal one, and I was taken immediately and without any formalities into another cell and left there. It was devastatingly bleak. A good couple of hours passed and then I was let out once more, this time to be escorted to a large business-like office, and to confront an angry-looking, mottle-faced man behind the inevitable desk. I stood in front of it with my escort, and another man behind us at the door. I had already decided on a plan of action, such as it was – I was going to go immediately onto the offensive. To be meek was intolerable to me and also foolish, for it might imply guilt where I certainly felt none. So as soon as the man in front of me began to speak I overrode him.

'I want to see the British Consul!'

'Sit down.'

'No. I answer no questions without the presence of the Consul.'

He slapped the table with the flat of his hand, and I was jerked back into a chair. I saw a nameplate on his desk which told me that he was one Jacques Chamant, and with a title which I mentally translated as Chief of Police. I was right at the top, it seemed. It had to be pretty bad. And I already had a ghastly suspicion as to what it was.

'I stand on no ceremony with you, Trevelyan.' Another man with more than passable English. There has been a massacre at Tanakabu which you started – and we will have your head for it.'

I stared at him, outraged. 'Are you crazy?'

He leaned his elbows on the desk. 'I have a dossier here on you. You came to Papeete last week and made some very serious accusations against Dr Schouten, on Tanakabu, accusations which would ruin his reputation as a medical man. You were told that someone would take steps to verify your vilifications, but that was not good enough for you. You cleared Papeete with the stated intention of sailing westward, but instead you went to Tanakabu.'

I listened in silence, in spite of my resolve.

'You got to Tanakabu and evidently had a quarrel with Schouten – and you murdered him. To cover your tracks you set fire to his house, and the entire hospital caught fire resulting in many deaths. Your crew is implicated in this as well – you are all guilty men.'

I blinked and sank down in the chair, stunned by the rage in his voice and the whole messy situation. We had made a very fast return trip to Papeete and as far as I knew there were no radio-telephones on Tanakabu, so there was only one way the police could know what had happened. I seized on a couple of things he had said and decided to make the best use of them that I could.

'Can it be that you don't know exactly how many were killed? Have you had any direct contact with the island?' I asked rapidly. I didn't know how much time I would have before he had me silenced.

He hesitated and I knew I was on the right track.

'How did you get the information? Was it a man called Hadley – off a ship called the Pearl?' That went straight to the mark – a bullseye. He coughed, oddly hesitant, and said, 'I do not see that it makes any difference, but you are correct. Mr Hadley described the reign of terror on Tanakabu very circumstantially. He stated that he barely escaped with his own life and that you attempted to run his ship down.'

Good! I had him on the defensive already. It was I who should be doing the talking, not he. I sensed already the faintest thread of doubt in his voice and pressed on.

'You say I "evidently" quarrelled with Dr Schouten. What "evidence" is there? I left him after a long talk, none the worse for it. There was a witness to that, an islander called Piro. He drove me from my ship. He will also attest that we came to save the hospital when it was already burning – and so will many others there. You have no right to arrest me. Or any of us!'

He was listening intently and did not interrupt me. Behind me the policemen stood like statues. I didn't understand why things were going my way but I was feeling stronger by the minute.

'Why don't you study that file, M. Chamant? You've got it down in black and white – Hadley was the man who is supposed to have found my brother, but whom I say was his murderer – and Schouten told me so. I can't prove that now, but I can prove everything else.'

I remembered another fact and produced it triumphantly.

'I took photographs. Develop my film. It will tell you everything.'

'M. Trevelyan, I am listening carefully. Of course we will check your camera, and we have already sent a police patrol boat to Tanakabu. But you still have a great deal to explain, and you are not yet released from arrest.'

I said, 'I've got plenty to tell you! That damned bastard and his mate Kane – they're the ones you want. They murdered Sven Norgaard, they murdered my brother, they murdered that poor bloody Schouten and they killed fourteen patients in his hospital – burnt them alive, do you hear – they burnt those poor wretches alive!'

Chamant was gesturing to the two policemen who heaved on my shoulders. I had lost all restraint in my anger, and was trying to climb over the table in my frenzy of trying to make Chamant see the truth. I slumped back, shaking a little and fighting for self-control. There was silence for a moment as we all contemplated my words.

'Where is Hadley now?' I asked him, trying to stay on the offensive.

He regarded me closely in silence still, then nodded gravely. He gave instructions to one of the men in rapid French, and the officer left the room smartly. Then he looked at me. 'I am not yet ready to believe you. But we will speak again with M. Hadley, I assure you. Meantime, I ask you to explain this, if you can.'

He pointed to a small box on a side-table and one of the remaining policemen brought it to his desk. Opened, it revealed four guns and a little pile of boxes of ammunition. I recognized two of the guns immediately.

'Four guns with enough ammunition to start a war, M. Trevelyan. Not a cargo for a peaceful ship, a scientific expedition.'

'Where did you find them?' But I could guess, and I was troubled. This was going to set back the progress I'd made.

'Three in the cabin of your M. Campbell. One in the possession of M. Wilkins, your captain.'

I made a weak gesture. There didn't seem to be much to say.

'You have seen them before?'

I said, 'Yes, two of them. Mr Campbell gave me that one when we discovered that Kane had gone from our ship. I must tell you the whole story, in sequence you understand. This other one he had himself. But'

'But?'

'Neither of us fired a shot! If you exhume Schouten you'll see he was shot three times, I think.'

'Only the other two were fired.'

'Yes, on our ship – when Hadley was getting away. We did try to ram him, to stop him – to bring him to justice.' That phrase sounded melodramatic enough even for a Frenchman to gag on it, I thought.

'You will tell me the story.'

So I did, leaving out all references to our search for manganese nodules, to Ramirez and Suarez-Navarro. I thought that made it all far too complicated. I said only that Hadley, once chartering a boat for my brother and Norgaard, had quarrelled with them for reasons unknown, had murdered both of them and had implicated the Dutch doctor in his crime. I had come to seek the truth and had run into a hornet's nest. It was circumstantial and very tidy. He made notes from time to time but said little.

When I finished he said, 'You will write all this down and sign it, please. I am going to allow you to return to your ship, but you will see that you and all your crew are confined to quarters on board. There will be a police guard.'

He was interrupted by the return of the officer he had sent out, who came straight to his side and whispered agitatedly to him. They both got up to look out of the window and went on speaking in urgent undertones, in French. And somehow I guessed what they were talking about.

'It's Hadley, isn't it?'

He turned to face me.

'You've let him get away, haven't you? You've let that murderous thug walk out of here!'

He nodded heavily. 'Yes, he has apparently left. You must understand that there was no reason to hold him, after he placed the information and made a deposition. We would not expect him to leave here – it is his home port.'

Something about the way he spoke told me that he was deeply troubled, to the point of forgetting that he was speaking to a man under arrest. I could guess why. Hadley was surely known here as a tough and a trouble-maker. The police may well have had him under surveillance already, for his connections with Mark and Norgaard, and for all I knew for a score of other things. And in letting him get away M. Chamant had blotted his own copybook rather badly. I was furious and exultant at the same time.

He got himself in hand and gave instructions to take me back to Esmerelda, and I was only too happy to go. House arrest seemed insignificant compared to being locked up in a cell. I went on board and was not particularly bothered by the sight of armed police dotted about, a couple on deck and more on the quayside, and a little knot of spectators shifting about as if waiting for a show to begin. In fact I managed a grin and a half-wave at them as I was ushered below, to their delight and the guard's disapproval.

There was a babble of voices at my return and the same air of tense expectancy as on the dockside, only here it was tinged with anxiety and bafflement. They all crowded around me and started firing questions.

'Wait up!' I held them off goodnaturedly. 'Plenty of time -too much, if anything. First, I want a wash-up and about a gallon of coffee and some food. Who's cook?'

I headed determinedly for my cabin to get a change of clothes, leaving the others to see to my inner comforts – and was brought up by the sight of Geordie, still in his bunk in the cabin we'd been sharing all along.

'Geordie! What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?' I was already seething at this inhuman treatment, but he waved me down casually.

'I'm fine, boy. It's good to see you. What happened to you?'

'Geordie, I'll tell you together with the rest, once I've washed and had some coffee. Are you sure you're all right?'

But in fact he looked a lot better, and I could see that his face had been professionally attended to, with neat stitches and tidier bandaging. As I stripped he said, They wanted to cart me off but I sat firm. There's nothing wrong with me that their pretty visiting nurse can't fix. I'd get her to take a look at you too.'

He nodded at my hands, still partly covered with burnt skin, though they had started to heal pretty well on the short trip back. I completed a quick ablution and was finally seated in the saloon over breakfast and surrounded by the whole of the crew of the Esmerelda – bar one. It was an immense relief not to see Kane's face among the others.

I told them as much as they needed to know, reserving a few more private comments for Geordie and Campbell later.

'He's a worried man, that Chamant. Was even when he saw me, and he has to be even more so now that Hadley's skipped,' Campbell said.

'He saw you?'

'Oh yes, and the girls too, and Ian – wanted to speak to Geordie but he was unaccountably sicker just then.' Geordie, propped up on a saloon berth, winked at me, and I realized that my news had cheered everyone up amazingly. Although we, and our ship, were all technically still under arrest it was clear that we weren't in any real trouble, thanks to the various bits of evidence I had offered the police chief, and we lacked only physical freedom – not any of the oppression of spirit that imprisonment usually meant.

Tell me about your interview,' I asked Campbell.

It had apparently been somewhat hilarious. Instead of being chastened at being caught with a small armoury under his bunk Campbell was airy and unconcerned about it, claiming that the guns were properly licensed, that he was a well-known collector and wouldn't dream of travelling without something for target practice, and that in any case only one of his guns had been fired – and that by his daughter, gallantly defending herself from attack by a shipload of murderous pirates. He was scathing about Clare's poor shooting and seemed not at all troubled by her having winged a man, only irked by her not having killed him outright. It appeared that while in Papeete, Kane had had a small bullet taken from his shoulder, ironically by the same doctor who tended to Geordie. He was not, it seemed, badly hurt, which disappointed Campbell considerably.

He was soundly reproved for not having declared the guns on his arrival and was threatened with their confiscation, but IK he'd wangled his way out of that somehow; and had got away with their being sealed at the mouth for the duration of our stay.

It turned out that the other gun that I had seen belonged to Nick Dugan, and he was similarly ticked off. According to Clare there had been at least two other small handguns in use during Esmerelda's fight with Pearl, but none of them surfaced during the search that was made, and I asked no questions. I also learned that Geordie had a shotgun on board which apart from being legally licenced, had even been declared by him to the Papeete customs – and was the only gun on board that had not seen some action.

Campbell had blustered much as I had and had invoked all the powers he could think of to back his credentials, and apparently M. Chamant had done much what he had done with me – had let him speak at will, listened carefully, and had finally released him back to the ship with a fairly mild request that he write down an account of the affair. Everything pointed to our story being accepted, and indeed later that afternoon the guards began to let us all out on deck in twos and threes for some exercise, after they'd moved Esmerelda to a mooring buoy well away from the quayside. Things were looking up, and we all turned in that night a great deal happier than we'd been at the start of the day. * 5*

A senior police official came on board next morning and took formal statements from everyone on board, which took a considerable time, though some of us had written them out in advance and needed only to sign them in the official presence. My camera was removed as well, and I prayed that my photography had been up to scratch. The doctor came to see Geordie again and Campbell cornered him and asked innumerable questions about the hospital on Tanakabu, and about the possibility of getting another doctor to go out there soon.

We were all beginning to feel restless and uneasy. In spite of some relaxation, we were still confined to the ship and as they kept us battened down apart from whoever was being allowed on deck it was stifling and airless on board.

Some time in the afternoon Geordie sent word that he'd like a word with me and so I went to his cabin. He was propped up in bed and surrounded by books. His face was still heavily bandaged but he was obviously much stronger and the effects of the concussion had long worn off.

'Sit down, boy,' he said. 'I think I've found something.'

To do with what?' I asked, though I could already guess. Several of the books were nautical and the Pilot was prominent among them. 'Has it got to do with those damned nodules?'

'Yes, it has. Just listen awhile, will you?'

I felt a small indefinite itch starting in the back of my skull. At the end of the terrible business on Tanakabu I had felt sickened of the whole search and had wanted nothing more to do with it. The nodules could lie on the seabed forever as far as I was concerned, and with the murder of Mark more or less exposed even the urge to lay that ghost had died away to a dull resignation. But now, deprived of ordinary activity, I couldn't help feeling that it would be interesting to have the problem to chew on again, and my professional curiosity was rising to the surface once more. So I settled down to hear Geordie out without protest.

'I was thinking of that lunatic Kane,' he said. 'He slipped up when he mentioned New Britain – the time he shouldn't have known about it. I got to thinking that maybe he'd slipped up again, so I started to think of all the things he ever said that I knew of, and I found this. It's very interesting light reading.'

He handed me Volume Two of the Pacific Ocean Pilot opened at a particular page, and I began to read where he pointed. Before I had got to the bottom of the page my eyebrows had lifted in surprise. It was a lengthy passage and took some time to absorb, and when I had finished I said noncommittally, 'Very interesting, Geordie – but why?'

He said carefully, 'I don't want to start any more hares-we blundered badly over Minerva – but I think that's the explanation of the other drawing in the diary. If it seems to fit in with your professional requirements, that is.'

It did.

'Let's get the boss in on this,' I said and he half-lifted himself from his bunk in delight. He'd played his fish and caught it.

I got up and went to round up Campbell, Ian and Clare and brought them back to the cabin. 'Okay, Geordie. Begin at the beginning.' I could see that the others were as pleased as I had been to have something new to think about.

'I was thinking about Kane,' Geordie said. 'I was going over in my mind everything he'd said. Then I remembered that when he'd seen Clare's drawings he'd called one of them a "scraggy falcon". We all saw it as an eagle, didn't we? So I checked on falcons in the Pilot and found there really is a Falcon Island. The local name is Fonua Fo'ou but it's sometimes called Falcon because it was discovered by HMS Falcon in 1865.'

Clare said, 'But where's the "disappearing trick"?'

'That's the joker,' I said. 'Falcon Island disappears.'

'Now wait a minute,' said Campbell, a little alarmed. 'We've had enough of this nonsense with Minerva.'

'It's not quite the same thing,' said Geordie. 'Recife de Minerve was a shoal – exact position unknown. Falcon, or Fonua Fo'ou, has had its position measured to a hair – but it isn't always there.'

'What the hell do you mean by that?' Campbell exploded.

Geordie grinned and said to me, 'You'd better tell them -you're the expert.'

'Falcon Island is apparently the top of a submarine volcano of the cinder type,' I said soberly. 'Every so often it erupts and pumps out a few billion tons of ash and cinders, enough to form a sizeable island.' I referred to the Pilot. 'In 1889 it was over a mile square and about a hundred and fifty feet high; in April 1894 there wasn't anything except a shoal, but by December of the same year it was three miles long, one and a half miles wide, and fifty feet high.'

I pointed to the pages. There's a long record of its coming and goings, but to bring it up to date- in 1930, Falcon was one and a quarter miles long and four hundred and seventy feet high. In 1949 it had vanished and there were nine fathoms of water in the same position.'

I passed the book over to Campbell. 'What seems to happen is that the island gets washed away. The material coming out of the volcano would be pretty friable and a lot of it would be soluble in water.'

He said, 'Does this tie in with your theory of nodule formation?'

'It ties in perfectly. If these eruptions have been happening once every, say, twenty years, for the last hundred thousand years, that's a hell of a lot of material being pumped into the sea. The percentage of metals would be minute, but that doesn't matter. The process of nodule formation takes care of that – what metals there are would be scavenged and concentrated, ready to be picked up.'

Campbell looked baffled. 'You come up with the damndest things,' he complained. 'First a reef that might or might not be there, and now a goddam disappearing island. What's the present state of this freak?'

I looked at Geordie.

'I don't know. I'll check up in the Pilot supplements – but they're often printed a little behind the times anyway. The locals may know.'

'Where is Falcon or Fonua-whatsit – when it's available?'

'In the Friendly Islands,' I said. Clare smiled at that. The Tongan group. It's about forty miles north of Tongatapu, the main island.'

He frowned. 'That's a long way from Rabaul, and that's where the Suarez-Navarro crowd is. And it's a long way from here, where Mark was.'

I said mildly, 'It's halfway between.'

He nodded thoughtfully and we all chewed on it for a few minutes. After a while I spoke up. 'In the light of this information, I think it would be worth concentrating on Falcon – if you're carrying on, that is?' I looked enquiringly at Campbell.

'Yes, of course I am,' he said energetically. His optimistic side was gaining steadily. 'You really think this will be worth trying?'

Clare supported me. 'I was sure those drawings meant something.'

'Minerva meant two months of wasted time,' Campbell said. 'What do you think, Geordie?'

Geordie looked at me but with conviction. 'He's the expert.'

Ian Lewis waited with courteous patience. He was prepared to go anywhere, and do anything that was wanted of him. In spite of the horror of Tanakabu he was having a wonderful time, away from the dullness of home life.

The issue was settled for us while Campbell ruminated. A vagrant breeze from the open port flipped back a page or so of the Pilot and I happened to glance down. I looked at the page incredulously and began to laugh uncontrollably.

Campbell said, 'For God's sake, what's so funny?'

I dumped the book into Geordie's hands and he too began laughing. I said, 'It seems we looked at the wrong Minerva. Look – Minerva Reefs, two hundred and sixty miles southwest of Tongatapu – that puts them only about three hundred miles from Falcon Island.'

'You mean there's another Minerva?'

'That's exactly what I mean.'

Geordie handed him the book. They're fully mapped. They're on a plateau twenty-eight miles long. It's hard ground – shell, coral and volcanic cinders, at a depth of eighteen hundred to thirty-six hundred feet.'

'Just like Falcon Island but much, much older and well established,' I put in.

'There's no mention of nodules,' Campbell said.

These are naval records and the navy wouldn't dredge for them. They'd just take soundings using a waxed weight to sample the bottom material. A nodule – even a small one -would be too heavy to stick to the wax.'

There was a rising air of jubilation in the small cabin.

Campbell said, 'Well, that does it, I suppose. We go to Tonga.' He looked at us all fiercely. 'But this time there'd better be no mistakes.'

So it was settled what we'd do after we left Papeete – if we left Papeete.* 6*

It seemed a long time.

Apparently a patrol boat had gone to Tanakabu and returned three days later, during which time things had got a little easier for us, but not much. All the crew members had been allowed to go ashore in batches, but Ian, the Campbells and I were still confined, as was Geordie for slightly different reasons. Paula managed to be allowed ashore mainly because she seemed to know everyone, including the policemen, but she only went under Jim or Taffy's escort and didn't stay ashore for long, having little faith in Hadley's having truly disappeared.

On the fourth day we were taken ashore, Campbell and I, and driven to the police station where we were ushered into the same office as before. M. Chamant was awaiting us.

He was quite pleasant. 'Our findings on Tanakabu are consistent with your statements. I note that M. Trevelyan called off the search as soon as he found that the man Kane was armed, which is a point in your favour. I also found that you saved many lives at the hospital, and it is known that you were all aboard your ship when the doctor was shot and the fires started. Also your photographs were helpful.'

It was good news, and as near to an apology as we'd ever get.

'When can we leave?' asked Campbell.

Chamant shrugged. 'We cannot hold you. If we had Kane and Hadley here you would be expected to stay and give evidence at their hearing, but…'

'But you haven't found them,' I said bitterly.

'If they are in French Oceania we will find them. But the Pacific is large.'

At least they seemed convinced of Hadley and Kane's guilt, which would have come out sooner or later anyway. Hadley had been seen ashore and recognized by several of the people on Tanakabu, and it made me wonder all the more why they had stopped in Papeete to put the police on a false trail, instead of picking up their heels. But I thought that perhaps Hadley, whose mental processes were not as evident as his brutality, really thought that we would be found guilty of his crime, and so out of his way forever. It was impossible to try and read his mind. Now, if they were being hunted by the law themselves they would have less time to go after us, and we had already agreed to act as if they didn't exist, otherwise we'd get nowhere.

'You can go whenever you want, M. Campbell.'

'We're going west as we originally said,' Campbell told him. 'We're heading towards Tonga. If we see them out there we'll let the authorities know.' We were being cooperative now, wanting no further opposition to our going about our own business.

Chamant said, 'Very well, gentlemen. You may go. I will send instructions for the police guard to be withdrawn. But you will take care to be on your best behaviour for the remainder of your stay here, and I also strongly suggest that you leave these waters soon. Your family' He pointed to me. 'Your family seems to cause trouble here, whether or not you intend to. And we do not want trouble on our hands.'

Campbell closed a hand firmly over my wrist. 'Thank you, M. Chamant. We appreciate all you have said. And now can you arrange transport back to our ship, please?'

He was reluctant on general principles but finally we got a ride back to the docks and a short run out to Esmerelda, to carry back the welcome news of our release. Everyone de served a couple of days off, and neither Campbell nor I begrudged them the time. The radio had been repaired and we had a lot of planning to do before we could set sail for the Friendly Islands, one of which might be there, or might not.*