Night of Error

Chapter Six

It was good to be at sea again, pounding along under the unfailing impulse of the trade wind. It would take about six days to sail to Tonga and we soon settled into shipboard routine.

Geordie was up and about. Although his face looked like the map of a battlefield he was fit enough otherwise, and took over the command from a reluctant Ian, who had gloried in his brief spell as skipper. The fresh wind blew away the last taint of Tanakabu and everyone benefited, and Kane's disappearance had lifted the last reserve of secretiveness. They were all in the know now, including Geordie's own crewmen, as we felt that it was only fair to warn them all of possible danger ahead, though none had taken advantage of Geordie's offer to pay their fares home if they wished to leave us.

And Paula was still with us. Somehow that had been taken for granted and she had fitted in so well to shipboard life that there was no sense of surprise in her having agreed to come along. She and Clare set one another off nicely.

I immersed myself in text books and charts. I wanted to study currents, so I asked Geordie for pilot charts of the area. 'Not that they'll be any great help,' I said. 'The currents might have changed considerably in the last fifty thousand years.. That's why Mark worked with Norgaard – he was an expert at that sort of thing.'

The pilot charts only have the surface currents,' said Geordie. 'Who knows what goes on under the surface?'

There are gadgets that can tell that sort of thing, though I haven't one with me. And they can't tell us what went on fifty thousand years ago, more's the pity.' I expounded. 'Here is Fonua Fo'ou. There's a warm offshoot of the South Equatorial Current sweeping south-west past the island. That should mean that any nodule deposits will also be laid down south-west of the island. But it's a surface current – there may be other currents lower down, going in different directions. That we'll have to check, if we can.'

I frowned at my own words. 'The thing is, have those currents changed direction in those last fifty thousand years? I don't know, but I shouldn't think so. It's not very long.'

Geordie snorted.

I put my finger on the chart. 'What I'm really worried about is this spot here. That's the Tonga Trench – our dredge will only go to 30,000 feet, and Horizon Depth in the Trench is nearly 35,000.'

'Quite a bit of water,' said Geordie dryly. 'That's over six and a half miles – a man could drown in that depth of water.'

'If the high-cobalt nodules have formed at the bottom of the Trench we're wasting time,' I said, ignoring his baiting. 'You could dredge them up, but it wouldn't be an economic proposition – it would just amount to pouring money into the sea. By the way, I haven't mentioned this to the boss. It would only cause alarm and despondency, and it might never happen.'

'I won't tell him,' he promised.

But I did seek out Campbell for another reason, and found him on deck in his favourite spot reading a book. We chatted for a few minutes about the ship and the weather, and then I said, 'Is it true what Clare said – that you're a crack shot?'

'I'm not too bad,' he said modestly if a little complacently.

'I'd like to learn how to shoot. I didn't get off a shot back there at Tanakabu, and those bastards were popping off all over the show.'

He grinned. 'What happened?'

'I think I forgot to release the safety catch.'

'I thought that might be it,' he said. 'It's obvious you don't know much about the game.'

'I don't know anything,' I said positively.

'Good. Then you won't have any bad habits to get rid of. Stick around. I'll get the pistols.'

He came back with four guns and laid them on deck. Three I'd seen and one which was new to me, but a twin of the one I'd handled. I didn't ask him where it had been hidden. He said, 'I didn't know what kind of trouble we'd be running into, so I took out insurance and brought along these two. 38s for you and Geordie.'

'What about yours?'

'Oh, I like this, the. 22. They're for me and Clare – she's a pretty good shot, if in need of practice.'

'I've always thought that a. 22 was useless against a man,' I said.

'You're like the cops. They always think you can't use anything but a. 38 or bigger,' said Campbell contemptuously. 'Look at it this way – who are the men who habitually use handguns?'

I thought about it. 'The police, the army, criminals and hobbyists – like yourself.'

'Right. Now, an army officer doesn't get much time for practice, nor the wartime officer – so they give him the biggest gun he can hold, one that packs a hell of a wallop – a. 45. With that gun he doesn't have to be a dead shot. If he only wings his man, that man is knocked flat on his back.'

Campbell picked up a. 38. 'Now the police get more practice and they're usually issued with, or equip themselves with, these. A nice handy gun that will fit inconspicuously into a holster out of sight, but because of that the barrel's too short, resulting in some loss of accuracy. You've got to have a lot of practice to be good with one of these.'

He exchanged it for a. 22. 'With this you have definitely got to be a good shot; the bullet is small and hasn't any inherent stopping power, so you have to be able to put it in the right place. But the gun is deadly accurate – this one is, at any rate. If you meet up with a man who habitually packs a. 22 steer clear of him, especially if he's filed away the front sight, because that means he's a snapshooter – a natural shot.'

I said, 'What's the range of these guns?'

'Oh, they've all got a hell of a range, but that's not the point. What counts is the accurate range, and with any hand gun it's not very much. A guy who is an average shot will stop a man at ten yards with the. 38. A crack shot will stop his man at twenty yards. And I'm not talking about target practice on the range – I'm talking about action where the other guy is shooting back.'

He waved the long-barrelled. 22. 'With this gun I'll kill a man at thirty yards – maybe a bit further.'

I asked curiously, 'You once said you had killed. Was it with this?'

'Yes, in South America once. The jungle Indians don't like trespassers.'

He said no more about it, and I let it lie.

So he began to teach me how to shoot. He started with the basic principles, stripping the guns and explaining the action. Then he showed me how to stand, and eventually how to hold a gun.

'I'm not going to waste time with you on the classic stance,' he said. 'That's for the police and championship target boys. If you tried you'd be filled full of holes before you sighted on your man. I want you to start with snapshooting. It's something you have or you haven't – let's see if you've got it. Point your finger at the mast.'

I did so and he followed the line of direction. 'Not bad. If your finger had been a gun barrel – a steady one – you'd have made a hole in the mast just a little off centre. Do it again.'

So I did it again – and again – and again. Then he gave me a. 38. 'Now do it.'

I pointed the gun at the mast and he shook his head. 'You'd miss by a foot. Put your forefinger alongside the barrel and do it again.'

I pointed the gun again with better results. 'You won't have your finger there when you shoot,' he said. 'It might be cut off by the action. But I want you to be able to point that barrel just like you point your finger.'

He drilled me for four hours every day on the voyage to Tonga. The rest of the crew crowded around at first, all asking for lessons, but Campbell declined, saying that one pupil at a time was his limit and that in any case there were no spar. guns. Geordie endorsed this. Those of the crew who did have guns did a little target practice but no one had much ammunition to spare and soon they left us to get on with it.

I had to learn how to point the gun when standing, sitting lying down and lastly, after a sudden turn. Then he concentrated on the trigger finger, making me squeeze the trigger gently without a jerk. He filed the sear of the trigger until:: clicked at a very slight pressure and then made me practice. draw, snapping off the safety catch, pointing the gun and squeezing the trigger all in one flowing motion.

On the third day I fired my first shot.

Campbell set up a rough target in the bows and when I stood near the foremast and squeezed that trigger I was certain that I had missed. But he led me to the target and pointed to a hole only two inches off centre. 'You'd make a pretty fair ten yard man,' he said. 'Give me another year or two and I'll make a good shot out of you.'

He took his. 22 and, standing at the same distance, loosed off six shots in as many seconds. 'Now look at the target. he said.

He had put a neat circle of small holes round the larger one made by my bullet. 'Give me time and you'll be able to do that,' he said in reply to my honest praise.

'I doubt if we'll have time. Not if I run up against Kane and company in the near future.'

'You think we will? The Suarez-Navarro ship is still up in Rabaul as far as I know.'

'I don't think it will stay there,' I said. They'll be on out trail.'

Campbell suddenly seemed depressed. 'How do we know it's the right trail? We're only going on a wild hunch – a hunch that a couple of doodled drawings do mean something.'

He turned and went below, the pistols dangling heavily in his hands.* 2*

We raised the island of Tongatapu on the morning of the sixth day out of Papeete. Nuku'alofa, the southern port of entry for the Tongan group, is on the north side of the island, so Geordie changed the heading of Esmerelda. He said to me, There's a paragraph in the Pilot that says you have to keep a sharp lookout for undersea volcanic activity and new shoals in these waters.'

I smiled. 'Sounds good from my point of view.'

'Not so good from mine. I have to skipper this ship.'

But we entered the anchorage without sighting anything unusual, tied up and settled down to wait for the port officials. Nuku'alofa was a typical Pacific island town; the wooden houses with their galvanized iron roofs forever frozen in a late-Victorian matrix. At one time it had looked as though Nuku'alofa was going to be the chief trading port and coaling station of the Western Pacific; but Suva, in the Fiji Islands, eventually came out on top, possibly for no more profound reason than that it was an easier name to pronounce. At any rate, Nuku'alofa lost its chance and relapsed into a timeless trance.

Once free to go ashore Campbell headed for the post office as usual. I went off with the two girls who were going to book in at an hotel. Clare announced that she was tired of salt water showers. 'My hair's in a mess and I can't get the salt out. It needs cutting,' she said. 'I want fresh water and luxury for a while.'

I said thoughtfully, 'It looks as though we may be based on Nuku'alofa for some time. Maybe I'd better do the same – get a room for me and see if Geordie wants one. A ship's all right if you can get off it once in a while.'

Paula felt happier here too, with Hadley a remote risk and nobody else around whom she knew either. It was a lot more relaxing for all of us than our second visit to Papeete. We arrived at the hotel and Clare said, 'My God, look at all that gingerbread!' It was a museum piece sprouting galvanized iron turrets and cupolas in the most unlikely places; inside it was pleasantly cool and dark with big electric fans lazily circulating the air.

At the reception desk we ran into trouble when we asked for five rooms – they had only three, one single and two doubles. I said to Clare, That's all right if you don't mind doubling up with Paula again. Geordie and I will share and your father can have the single.'

The receptionist was most apologetic. There had been an unprecedented rush on accommodation just recently. I left the desk feeling that perhaps Nuku'alofa was going to give Suva a run for its money after all.

I arranged with the girls to meet them in the lounge in an hour or so and went upstairs to soak in a hot bath, and to lay schemes for getting Clare away by myself somewhere that evening – the first chance I would have had since Papeete. When I came downstairs I found them already in the lounge with tall glasses of beer in front of them, frosted on the sides. 'That's a good idea,' I said and looked at the label on the bottle. It was Australian beer – Swan. For a moment I was back in London on a wet dull day a million years ago. 'That's Kane's favourite tipple. Maybe he'll be around for a drink.'

Clare looked past me. 'Here comes Pop.'

Campbell came over to the table with a sheaf of correspondence in his hand and the inevitable worried look on his face. Clare said, 'Have a cold beer, Pop. It's just the thing for this weather.'

He dropped heavily into a cane chair which creaked protestingly. 'I think we've come to the wrong place,' he said abruptly.

I signalled to a hovering waiter and ordered a couple of beers. 'What's the trouble?'

He unfolded a cable. The Suarez-Navarro crowd have moved again to Noumea in New Caledonia.'

I raised my eyebrows, 'Interesting, but not very informative. I wonder what they're doing there?'

'I don't know but it doesn't look too good to me. According to what we've figured they don't know where the stuff is, so what the hell are they drifting round the Pacific for? It looks as though they're as lost as we are.'

Clare said thoughtfully, 'Maybe Mark gave them a bum steer before he died.'

I shook my head. 'No, if he'd done that they would have been out testing for it, and we know they haven't. But we're not lost – at least we don't think so. We're here for a purpose.'

I glanced through the door of the lounge and saw the receptionist working at his accounts. I said, 'Excuse me for a minute,' and went into the foyer where I had an interesting little five-minute chat with him, which included the passing of a discreet backhander across the counter. I went back into the lounge, sat down and took a long, lingering draught of cold beer. Then I said, 'We're in the right place.'

They all stared at me. 'How do you know? How can anyone know?'

I said, 'One Ernesto Ramirez has booked half a dozen rooms in this hotel. He hasn't turned up yet.'

Campbell looked startled and Clare let out a yelp of pure joy. Paula, on the other hand, visibly shrank back in her chair, and I made a quick mental note of that. I said, 'I thought it a bit odd that the hotel should be so full right now, so I checked up on it. Ramirez booked the rooms and paid handsomely for them in advance; he wrote that he didn't know exactly when he was coming, but that the rooms must be kept free.'

'I'll be damned,' said Campbell. 'But what's he been doing in Noumea?'

'I think he's been stooging around in this area all the time, getting slowly closer to wherever we were, and waiting to see where we'd go without being too close, so that he could follow easily from a distance.'

'But now he is coming here, and we've not been in a day,' said Clare. 'How could he know? And why come so close now?'

'We saw several ships as we came across, and we made no secret of our destination. My guess is that he's been fed the information somehow. As to why he's closing with us, that I can't guess. But what he doesn't know is that we know he's coming, and we have a head start on him – we're here.'

'He must know we've arrived,' said Campbell soberly. 'He's sure to have left a man here. I'll bet they're in touch right now.'

'We're not going to be in for long,' I said. 'We'll be off dredging soon. But we could put it about that we are leaving for somewhere else – that might help draw him into the net. At close quarters we can at least do something.' It was all very dubious though, and we weren't at all sure what was happening around us.

'What kind of a ship have they?' I asked.

'Pretty much the same as ours – a bit bigger. Her name is Sirena.' Then if he leaves now it'll be over a week before he gets here.'

Campbell put down his empty glass with a click. Then we've got to get going as soon as we can,' he said.

I saw Geordie coming into the foyer and waved to him, and he came to the table. He was dirty and looked tired, and the half-healed scars on his face didn't make him look any better. He put a little glass pot on the table with a hand stained black with grease, and said, 'We've got trouble.'

I said, 'Sit down and have a beer.'

'What's the trouble?' Campbell asked.

Geordie sat down and sighed. 'I would like a beer,' he admitted. He unscrewed the top of the jar and showed that it was full of grease. He pushed it over to me and said, 'Rub some of that between your fingers and tell me what it feels like.'

I dipped up some of the grease on my forefinger and rubbed it with my thumb. It wasn't slick and smooth as grease should be but seemed gritty. Campbell reached over and tested it for himself.

'Where did you get this?' he demanded.

'It came from the main bearings of the winch motor,' said Geordie. 'And the grease in the bearing of the winch drum is the same – all doctored with carborundum.'

'Christ!' I said. 'If we'd have used the winch the whole damn thing would have seized up. What put you on to it?'

'Partly routine maintenance. But I also thought about what I'd do if I were Kane and I wanted to put a stop to Mr Campbell here. I wasn't looking for anything definite, mind you, but I thought I'd have a look at the winch. I never thought I'd find grinding powder mixed with the bearing grease.'.

Campbell swore violently, then looked at Paula. 'Sorry,' he mumbled.

That's all right. I know those words.'

I said, 'How long will it take to fix?'

'A week,' said Geordie definitely. 'We'll have to strip the winch right down, and that's a big job. But it's not what I'm worried about.'

'Isn't it enough?' grumbled Campbell. 'What else is on your mind?'

'I'm thinking of things Kane might have done that we haven't found yet. I don't think he got at the engine – but what else has he done?'

I said, 'He can't have done much. He was under observation all the time.'

'He got at the winch,' said Geordie obstinately.

'Geordie's right,' said Campbell. 'We can't take anything on trust. The whole ship must be checked out.'

The girls sat silent through this but I could sense their frustration matched ours. If the intention had been to foul up our operations it might have succeeded. But if it was also intended to dishearten us then Kane had read his man wrongly – Campbell of all of us was the most determined to put things right and carry on.

I drained my glass. 'Let's get to it. I kept the laboratory locked but I suppose I'd better give that a going over too.'

We went back to Esmerelda, rounding up crewmen along the way, and I went immediately below to the laboratory. A couple of hours' work showed nothing wrong – the spectroscope was in order, and the contents of all the bottles seemed to agree with their labels. It was a waste of time from one point of view, and then again it wasn't. At least I knew my lab wasn't gimmicked.

Ian came down with fuel oil samples from the main tanks. 'Skipper wants these tested,' he said.

Tested for what?'

He grinned. 'Anything that shouldn't be in fuel oil.'

I poured the samples into Petri dishes and burned them. The sample from the starboard tank left little deposit, but that from the port tank left a gummy mess on the bottom of the dish.

I went on deck to see Geordie. 'The port fuel tank's been got at,' I told him. 'I think it's been doctored with sugar.'

Geordie swore a blue streak. 'I thought we were using a hell of a lot of sugar. So that's where it went. How's the starboard tank?'

'It seems all right.'

'Kane couldn't get at the starboard tank without being seen – it's right by the wheel. The port tank is different. I remember he used to sit just about there quite often, when he was off watch.'

'It wouldn't be difficult – a pound of sugar at a time.'

'We've been sailing a lot, too. If we hadn't we'd have found out sooner – the hard way. But all the fuel we've used has come from the ready use tank in the engine room, and we just kept topping that up in port.'

Campbell came up. 'What are the long faces for?'

I told him and he cursed violently.

'We dump it,' I said. 'We can't dump it in harbour – they'd scream blue murder- so we go to sea and dump it.'

'All right,' said Geordie. 'I'll fill the header tank from the starboard main tank. We'll need some power to be going on with.'

'Nothing doing,' said Campbell. 'Kane might have been clever enough to put something else in there. Fill the header rank with new fuel from the Shell agent here.' He paused. 'It's going to be difficult. There's probably a lot of undissolved sugar lying on the bottom of the tank. When you put in new fuel you may be just as badly off.'

I said, 'I can test for sugar in water. We'll keep washing out until we're clean. How are their water supplies here, Geordie? I'd rather use fresh than salt.'

'We're lucky. In the dry season they can run short, but I think right now is okay. We'll have to pay through the nose, though.'

He thought about the job. 'We'll have to wait until the tanks dry out. Maybe I can rig up a contraption that'll pump hot air into the tanks – that should speed the dry-out.'

'Do that,' said Campbell. 'How long do you think it'll take us to get ready for sea again?'

We did some figuring and the answer was again not less than a week. Campbell shrugged. That's it, then. But we've lost our lead. We'll be lucky to get out of here before Ramirez pitches up.'

'He may wait until we go,' I said.

But guessing was futile, and we left it at that.* 3*

Next day we went to sea and pumped out both main tanks and refilled them with water from the fresh water tanks. I checked for sugar and found an appreciable quantity in the water of the port tank, so we pumped out again and went back to Nuku'alofa. We filled up with fresh water again, both in the water and the fuel tanks, much to the surprise of the suppliers, and then put to sea again.

I still found a little undissolved sugar in the port tank, so we did it all again. By this time I reckoned we were clean so we put back to port and Geordie rigged up his hot air contraption to dry out the tanks before we put in new fuel oil. A couple of days was spent on this and we used partial crews each time, spelling the others to have time ashore. God knows what stories were put about in the port, but our lads had orders to remain quiet and ignorant.

While Geordie and one team were checking the winch and its auxiliary equipment, aided by Campbell, Ian set another group to stripping Esmerelda. They took down all the rigging, both running and standing, and inspected everything. They found nothing wrong and we were sure we were fit for sea when they had finished. But it took time.

No more of Kane's sabotage came to light. He had carefully selected the two things which could do us the most damage -doctored grease and sugar in the fuel. If he hadn't been watched he might have got away with a lot more, and as it was he'd done more than enough.

Campbell was Napoleonic about the food stores. 'Dump the lot,' he said.

'We've no need to dump the canned stuff,' objected Ian, his thrifty Scot's soul aghast.

But Campbell insisted. 'Dump the lot. That son of a bitch was too clever for my liking. I've no hankering for cyanide in my stew.'

So on our last run out to sea for testing we dumped the food supplies, and also recalibrated the echometers against proven and charted soundings. They were all right but it was as well to make sure. The local tradesmen were delighted at our liberal purchase of fresh food stocks, and no doubt it all added to the gossip concerning the Esmerelda. Seven days after we had discovered Kane's sabotage Geordie said, That just about does it. We're ready for sea.'

'Let's hope Kane hasn't left any surprises we haven't found,' I said. 'I'd hate to start dredging and then find the bottom falling out of the ship. How's the engine, Geordie?'

He grimaced. 'Nothing wrong there. But we had to pull everything down to make sure.'

'That's the hellish thing about sabotage. Not being sure.'

When we assembled in the hotel lounge that evening Campbell asked me about the next move. 'How do we go about it?'

'I'm working on the assumption that there may be something between Falcon and Minerva. That's a distance of three hundred miles. We go to Falcon and take a bottom sample every ten miles on a direct course to Minerva. If we don't find anything, then we sample on parallel courses east and west.'

'So our first step is to find Falcon Island.'

I became thoughtful, shook my head and presently said, 'No, I've changed my mind. I think we'll start at Minerva- do it the other way around.'

They were interested. 'Why would you do that – why should it matter?' Campbell asked.

'Mark was an oceanographer and he was presumably working on the same lines as we are – volcanic theories much like the ones I've postulated. If the high-cobalt nodules are anywhere near Falcon, why should he mention Minerva at all? I think the nodules are quite a distance from Falcon, quite close to Minerva perhaps. And when Mark indicated them in his diary he thought of the source – which is Falcon – and the vicinity, Minerva.'

'That sounds logical,' said Campbell. 'But it might mean that the nodules aren't placed on a direct course between Falcon and Minerva. Hell, they could be on the other side of those reefs.'

'Or scattered all the way along,' suggested Clare. Which was also feasible.

I said, 'This is what we do. We leave here and sail due west until we hit the track between Falcon and Minerva. We turn towards Minerva and take samples every ten miles. If we don't find anything then, we come back to Falcon and on a parallel course, sampling all the way, go round Falcon and move back again further out. How's that?'

We talked it over for a while and then went in for dinner. I was glad we were going to sea again; every time we put into port something seemed to go wrong, whether it was arson, wrongful arrest, sabotage or just plain bad news.

During the meal Clare nudged me and murmured. 'Look over there.'

I looked around but couldn't see anything out of order. 'What's the matter?'

She said quietly, The waiters have just put two tables together over there, and laid them for dinner. There are places for eight.'

I took another look and she was right. 'Ramirez!' I exclaimed and she nodded. 'Could well be.'

We glanced towards the doorway, but saw nobody there.

'Don't tell Pop,' she whispered to me. 'He'll get mad if he sees Ramirez. I don't want us to have a scene – I want us to get him away quietly.'

'You'd better get him up to bed then – if you can. Geordie and I will check out now and go back to Esmerelda to push things on – we'll try and leave early tomorrow morning. You be there.'

'I can manage it,' she said.

They didn't come into the dining room while we were there, and Clare and Paula got the old man upstairs without him being aware that he was being moved like a chess piece – they seemed to be good at it, and I was hopeful that they'd handle him as well the next day. As soon as they'd gone I said to Geordie, 'We think Ramirez has arrived. We'd better pack up here.'

'How do you know?'

'Clare's been Sherlocking, and I think she's right.' I indicated the waiting table.

We went straight to the desk and settled up, taking advantage of an empty foyer, and then went up to our room to pack our gear. I took one of the two. 38 revolvers which Campbell had entrusted to me and tossed it to Geordie. 'The boss says this is for you. Can you use it?'

He held it in his hand. 'Just let me get Kane or Hadley at the other end of it and I'll show you. Got any ammo?'

We split the ammunition, loaded the guns and went downstairs with our duffle bags. I was conscious of the weight of the gun in my jacket pocket and felt a bit ridiculous, as though I were impersonating a fifth-rate movie gangster. But there was nothing funny about it really – I might have to use that gun.

Halfway down the winding stairs I checked and put out my hand to stop Geordie. The foyer seemed full of people and I heard a drift of conversation. It was in Spanish.

We waited until the crowd had moved into the dining room, led by a tall, thin, hawklike man who must have been Ramirez. He tallied with Campbell's description, though I couldn't see the scar, and I felt a wave of angry nausea in my throat at the sight of him. When the foyer was empty we carried on.

We found Ian on the deck of Esmerelda. Geordie asked abruptly, 'Any new ships come in during the last hour or so?'

'Aye,' said Ian. 'That one.' He pointed across the water and I saw the dark loom of a boat anchored a little way out. It was difficult to tell her size, but from her riding light I judged her to be about the same size as Esmerelda, maybe a bit bigger but not much.

'That is Suarez-Navarro,' said Geordie and Ian stared at him aghast.

'I want the crew rousted out. I want a watch – two men on each side and a look-out up the foremast. And I don't want any extra lights – I don't want to show that anything out of the ordinary is happening. I want her ready to be moved at a moment's notice. How many are on board?'

'Most of the lads, and I can round up the others easily enough.'

'Do that, right away.'

'Aye aye, sir,' said Ian smartly and went below at a dead run.

Geordie looked across at her. 'I wonder if Hadley's over there – or Kane?' he said softly.

I said, They weren't in Ramirez's party in the hotel. Perhaps they're too scared to come ashore – there must be warrants out for them in every port in the Pacific by now. On the other hand, there's no reason for them to be on board her at all. Hadley's still got the Pearl, remember, and we've got no proof that they came here, or joined up with Ramirez after leaving Papeete.'

True,' said Geordie glumly.

'I've got things to do in the lab,' I said. 'I have to make ready for sea. I'll see you later.'

I had been working for an hour when Geordie and Ian came in to see me. 'We've got an idea,' Geordie said. They both looked alive with something that I felt could be called mischief.

'What is it?'

The boys think that Kane and Hadley may be across there, on Ramirez's ship. They want to go and get them.'

'Christ, they can't do that!'

'Why not?'

'You know damn well they're most unlikely to be there. This is just an excuse for any nonsense they're cooking up.'

'But suppose they are? It would solve a hell of a lot of problems. We hand them over to the police and that scuppers Ramirez. He'll be too busy explaining why he's harbouring a couple of wanted murderers to be able to follow us.'

I thought about it and shook my head. 'No, it's too risky, too damn close to piracy. Campbell wouldn't like it at all.'

'Look,' said Geordie, 'the boys are all steamed up. They didn't like your stories, they didn't like what those two did on Tanakabu, and they sure as hell didn't like the week's work they've had to put in here because of Kane. They're tired of being pushed around – some of them were shot at in Tanakabu lagoon and they didn't like that either. I don't know if I can stop them.'

I looked at the glint in Geordie's eye. 'I don't suppose you've tried too hard, have you, Geordie?'

He bristled. 'Why the hell should I? I've got scores to settle with Hadley too, remember. He gave me a pistol whipping, don't forget that. And it's my ship that Kane's been sabotaging, not Campbell's!'

'Suppose they aren't there after all?'

'We'll be bound to learn something to our advantage.' I noticed he was now including himself in the venture and had given up any pretence of being against it.

Ian said, 'Ach, Mike, it's all laid on. It'll be as easy as lifting a trout from the stream when the keeper's having a dram in the pub.'

'Oh, it's all laid on, is it? Would you mind telling me what the pair of you have been up to?'

Ian looked at Geordie, who said, 'Well, it's like this, Mike. I thought a guard was all very well in its way, but a bit negative, if you know what I mean. So I sent a couple of boys ashore to scout around. They found a lot of the crew of that hooker in a pub, drinking themselves silly. A tough-looking mob, true, but they're almost out of it already. All dagoes.'

'And no Kane or Hadley?'

'No one spotted them. Anyway with your lot at the hotel, there are precious few bodies left on Ramirez's ship.'

I said, 'They'll be keeping a watch too. Ramirez isn't a damn fool, and he knows we're here.'

'Right enough,' agreed Geordie. 'But I've gone into that too. I sent Taffy and Bill Hunter out in a boat to have a look. Bill's the best swimmer we've got, and he had a good look at that ship.' He chuckled suddenly. 'Do you know what he did? He swam right round her first, then he hauled himself aboard on the port side, had a good look round the deck, then let himself into the water on the starboard side and came back to report. That's the sort of watch they're keeping over there.'

'It would have to be done very quietly,' I mused.

'Ach, that's no trouble,' said Ian. 'We're a quiet lot.'

'Just about as quiet as a bunch of sharks. They don't make much noise either.'

'Well, what about it?' said Geordie imploringly.

There would have to be no guns. No killing. Just bare fists.'

'Or maybe the odd belaying pin,' offered Ian gently.

'You're a bloodthirsty lot. It's a damn silly idea, but I'll agree to it – conditionally.'

Geordie grinned delightedly. 'I knew you had something of your father in you, Mike!'

I said, 'Dad would have had you court-martialled for disobedience and subordination, and you damn well know it. All right, here are the conditions. One – if you find Kane or Hadley we hand them over to the police intact to the last hair of their heads. We don't want to ruin our own case. Two – if we don't find them you get back here fast. We'll have to get the hell out of Nuku'alofa anyway – Ramirez will be looking for us and maybe the cops too. That means, three – that Campbell and the girls will have to be got aboard.'

Geordie's face fell. 'That means the whole thing's off. He'll never stand for it, not with the girls along.'

'He doesn't have to know about it too soon – if we time it right. You send someone up to the hotel and get him aboard at just the right time.'

'The right time being when it's too late to stop us,' said Geordie. 'Mike, laddie, you're going to have a hell of a time explaining to the old man what we're doing.'

'I'll leave the explanations until afterwards,' I said. 'I've got another condition, number four – I'm coming with you. I've got scores to settle myself.'* 4*

The timing was a bit tricky. We didn't know how long Ramirez and company were going to stay in the hotel, nor even if they intended returning to their ship that night. We didn't want to bump into them because then there certainly would be noise.

Again, Campbell and the girls had to be got out of the hotel under the nose of Ramirez, another tricky bit. So we made a plan.

Geordie had picked Nick Dugan to bring Campbell from the hotel. 'He's probably the best scrapper of the lot of us,' he said. 'But he's never quiet in his fighting. It's best we keep him out of the main operation, and he'll not take it well.'

I had a word with Nick and sent him off immediately. 'You've got two jobs,' I told him. 'The first is to keep an eye on Ramirez. If any of them make a move to go back to their ship, you nip down to the waterfront and flash a signal to us. Then the operation is definitely off. Got that?'

'Right.' As it turned out he was surprisingly meek.

'We'll be starting off at eleven-thirty. At exactly that time you get into Mr Campbell's room and give him a note which I'll write. No sooner and no later than eleven-thirty – that's important.'

'I understand,' said Nick.

'Have you got a watch?'

He showed me his wrist watch and, as we synchronized, I wondered how many times my father had done the same before an operation.

'I settled their bills along with mine – they don't need to stop at the desk. No porters. Get them back here as fast as you can, and as quietly – and don't let Ramirez or any of his crowd see you.'

I also had a word with Bill Hunter. 'What sort of watch are they keeping over there, Bill?'

He smiled. 'I suppose they think they're keeping a good one – by their standards. It's nothing to worry about, though. It'll be a piece of cake.'

'Geordie tells me you're the best swimmer, so you'll go first. But you must be quiet about it or the balloon will go up. Your job will be to find the quietest spot on board to get the rest of us up.'

'Not to worry,' he said easily. 'It'll be like the old times.'

As I turned away he said, 'Er – Mike…'

'Yes, Bill?'

'It's good to work with a Trevelyan again.'

I was touched. 'Thanks, Bill. You don't know how I appreciate that.'

At last we were ready. Six of us were going – Geordie, Ian, Taffy, Jim, Bill Hunter and myself. Danny Williams was left in command of the ship and the rest of Geordie's non-commando crew, and I said to him, 'Danny, if anything goes wrong, get the hell out of here as fast as you can, once Mr Campbell and the girls and Nick are back on board, even if it means leaving us behind. Mr Campbell mustn't be involved in this, you understand?'

'I gotcha,' he said. 'But you'll be all right.'

Geordie was fussing. 'Jim, got all your bits and pieces?' 'I'm okay,' said Jim. 'Stop binding, skipper.' I stepped over to Geordie. 'What are these bits and pieces?' 'Nothing much,' he said airily. 'A few tools. Belaying pins and stuff like that. What time is it?'

I looked at the luminous hands of my watch. 'Eleven-twenty-eight.' It had been a rush to get ready but the last few minutes crawled.

'Let's go,' he said. 'It'll be a doddle.' We dropped into the larger of our two dinghies, Ian and Taffy took the oars and pulled quietly, and the boat moved out. We rounded the stern of Esmerelda and Ian steered us across the harbour.

I was thinking of all the things that could go wrong and what Campbell would say when we got back, and damning myself for an idiot. I leaned over to Geordie and whispered, 'If Taffy's got that damned knife of his, tell him to leave it in the bottom of the boat. We don't want even the possibility of him using it.'

'It's all right,' he said in a low voice. 'He left it aboard – I told him to.'

It wasn't long before Ian and Taffy stopped pulling and the boat glided to a stop, rocking gently. Bill was dressed in dark clothing and all I saw of him was the flash of his teeth in the moonlight as he slipped over the side.

'Are you sure the torch is waterproof?' Geordie murmured.

'It's okay,' Bill replied. 'I'll give you a flash as soon as I'm ready.' He moved away without a single splash and we sat quietly waiting for his signal. It seemed a long time coming and as I sat there I wondered what I was doing in this Pacific harbour, contemplating an act of piracy. It seemed a long way from my office at the Institute. I said to Geordie, 'He's a long time, isn't he?' 'Stop worrying,' said Geordie. 'We're professionals.' I let out my breath and tried to relax on the hard thwart, never taking my eyes off Ramirez's ship. Suddenly there was a flicker of light, so faint and so quickly doused that I wondered if I'd really seen it or whether my eyes were playing tricks.

'That's it,' said Geordie softly. 'Pull together. Gently now.'

We moved on under the measured slow strokes of the oars until the side of the ship loomed above us. Something hit my face and I started violently. Geordie said in my ear, 'Be still, for God's sake.'

I felt him moving about and he said, always in that low murmur that was so much more effective than a whisper, 'Bill's been a good boy. He's dropped us a line. Make fast there.'

Jim, in the bows, made fast and Geordie said, 'I'll go first.' He swarmed up somehow like a monkey and disappeared over the bulwarks. Ian followed and then I came up, finding that they were using a rope ladder that hung just above our dinghy. My eyes had got used to the darkness and with the help of the waning moon and the dim glow of the riding lights I found I could see fairly well. There was no one about on deck, but a low murmur of voices came from aft.

Someone moved to join us and Bill's voice said, soft and unexpectedly close, 'I've copped one of 'em.'

'What have you done with him?' Geordie asked.

'Nothing much.' There was joy in Bill's voice. 'He won't wake up for a longish time.'

The others had arrived on deck and Geordie said, 'Split into pairs- I'll take Mike. We'll do the old backward-forward trick.'

'What's that?' I asked, trying to pitch my voice low as he had done.

'Quiet! Someone's coming. Jim and Taffy – you take him.'

I watched the two figures snake across the deck and vanish into the shadows. Then I heard what Geordie's quicker ear had caught much earlier – the measured pace of footsteps coming along the deck from aft. The man came in sight round the corner of the deck-house; he was carrying a mug in his hand, being careful not to spill it – probably coffee for someone up in the bows.

Suddenly, to my surprise, a black shape arose quite openly in front of him and Taffy's voice said gently, 'Well now,: that's a nice thought – bringing me coffee.'

The man stopped and backed up in amazement. He was about to speak when something flickered in front of his face and he raised his hands to claw at his neck. Taffy expertly caught the falling mug.

The man seemed to be fighting nothing. He staggered two paces along the deck and then collapsed. I saw Jim crouch over him and then they both dragged him over to us, Taffy using only one hand.

'Anyone want some hot coffee?' he said. 'Not a drop spilled.'

'Stop playing the fool,' Geordie growled.

'What happened?' I asked.

'It'll keep. That's two – how many more do you reckon, Bill?'

There were five on deck when I was here before. But I dunno about below.'

Jim and Taffy were gagging and trussing up their victim. Geordie said, 'We'll finish that. You lot go aft and clear up the deck.'

They drifted away like wreathes of smoke and I helped Geordie finish the job. The man was flaccid and quite unconscious and I whispered, 'What the hell did Jim do to him?'

'A silk cloth with a weight in one corner. We learned that one from an Indian instructor, old thuggee trick. But at least Jim hasn't strangled this one – he'll recover okay.'

There was a muffled thump from aft and he clicked his tongue. 'Someone's being careless. Come on, I want to see if Bill's done his job properly.'

He rose and walked unconcernedly forward, not troubling to hide. He stopped at the forehatch and tested it with his hand. 'Bill's a good workman. No one can come from below this way.'

He then searched about until he found what he was looking for – the prone and unconscious body of the after watch. He rolled the limp body over and began to tie the hands. 'Not that I don't trust Bill's judgement,' he said. 'But it's nice to be safe and tidy. You take his feet – use his shoelaces.'

It was all a little bit dreamlike. Geordie was expertly tying the crewman's hands and conversing matter-of-factly as any good craftsman might as he worked on his bench. 'Sorry to keep you out of the fun, Mike. But you're dead inexperienced. You've only got to do the wrong thing once on a lark like this and the cat's out of the bag.'

I looked at Geordie's bulk in the semi-darkness and realized something I'd never thought of consciously before. He had been trained as a professional killer, and my father had had a hand in his training. He had been taught perhaps a couple of dozen ways of putting a man out of action, temporarily or permanently, and he had the professional's amused contempt for the dilettante. I thought for the first time that something of Mark's ruthless streak, albeit turned in a strange and distasteful manner, had been inherited from my father.

I said, 'That's all right, Geordie. You're doing fine. I'm content to look and learn.'

From the stern came the lowest, breathiest of whistles and Geordie cocked his head. 'They're finished. Let's go and see what the bag's like.'

We went forward, walking as though the ship belonged to us. As we went, Geordie said softly, 'Never dodge about when there's no need. Nothing looks more suspicious. I mean, suppose someone's watching the deck right now – we could be any pair of the crew.'

He slowed as he came to the deckhouse where a stream of light splashed on the deck from the door. He peered cautiously round the edge of the door, then snorted. 'I might have known,' he said resignedly. 'It's Taffy the gutser. What do you think you're doing, Taff?'

He stepped into the deckhouse and I followed to find that it led straight into the galley. Taffy was sawing at a loaf of bread. 'Making myself a sandwich, skipper,' he said.

'You bloody cormorant. How many did you get?'

'Three.'

'Kane? Hadley?'

'Not a sign. If they're aboard, they're below. But they'll be safe – we battened down the hatches.'

'Well, we'll unbatten them and clean up below,' said Geordie. 'It only needs one of 'em to decide he'd like a nice breath of sea air and find he can't get on deck. When you've finished your supper, Mr Morgan, we'd all be grateful if you got back on the job. And before you leave the galley clean up – and then find the flour bin and tip the salt into it.'

'Yes, sergeant,' said Taffy.

We went to the wheelhouse and found the others. Ian was unscrewing the central holding bolt of the wheel-bearing with an adjustable spanner. He looked up at Geordie and said solemnly, 'Might as well cause a bit of inconvenience while we're here.' He withdrew the bolt and casually tossed it overboard, then spun the wheel. 'They'll have a wee bit of trouble in their steering, I'm thinking.'

'Very nice, but a little premature,' said Geordie. 'Let's get the job finished first. Mike and I will take the forehatch and clean out the fo'c's'le. Ian and Bill, take this hatch here. Jim, you'll find Taffy stuffing his guts in the galley – you take amidships. Got your stuff?'

'I've got it, skipper.'

'Right. We'll all go down simultaneously. I'll give the signal – and try not to make too much noise. Come on, Mike.'

When we got to the forehatch Geordie paused. 'We'll give them a minute to get ready.' He shook his head sadly. That bloody Welshman.'

I looked aft along the deck. It was very quiet and there was nothing to be seen, and I thought how easy it had all been – so far. These ex-commandoes seemed to take it all as a joke, as I suppose it was to men who had tackled alert Germans. But I wasn't deceived; it was their very competence that made it seem easy.

Geordie startled me by uttering that same hollow whistle I'd heard before. 'Come on,' he said softly. 'Me first.'

He lifted up the hatch gently and went down the companionway. The forecastle was dimly lit by a single lamp and appeared full of shadowy shapes. When I got to the bottom of the steps I found Geordie fastening the door which led to the midships accommodation by means of a small wooden wedge which he took from his pocket. The door fastened, he turned to look round the forecastle. Tiers of bunks, three high, lined the triangular space formed by the bows of the ship. They pack the bastards in like sardines, I thought. There was a snoring noise and Geordie looked round quickly, put his fingers to his lips for my benefit and crept forward very gently, and then waved me forward. He was looking at a middle berth upon which was sleeping a villainously unshaven seaman. He put his lips close to my ear and said, 'Check the other bunks.'

I tiptoed round the forecastle, looking into every bunk, but found no one else. I got back to Geordie and shook my head.

He said loudly, 'All right, let's wake up the sleeping beauty.'

The man snored again, drawing back his upper lip.

Geordie shook him by the shoulder. 'Come on, chum. Prepare to meet thy doom.' The man opened his eyes and looked up uncomprehendingly and then Geordie hit him on the chin with a fist like a hammer.

He rubbed his knuckles and said, a little apologetically, 'I never like to hit a sleeping man. It seems a bit unfair somehow.'

I looked at the seaman. He was out cold.

Geordie looked round the forecastle again. 'Nine a side. They pack eighteen in here. The Board of Trade would never allow this back home. Right, let's see what else there is. The next one might be the lucky draw, Mike.'

He took the wedge out of the door and opened it carefully. We checked all the compartments we came across, even the toilets. 'Nothing like catching a man with his pants down,' Geordie chuckled.

We found nothing.

The ship rocked a little more heavily and we both stiffened but there was no hue and cry and we carried on slowly until suddenly there was a shadow at the end of the passage and Taffy came into sight. He was eating an apple.

Geordie sniffed. 'Look at that. You'd think he'd get fatter, wouldn't you? He was just the same in the army – holding the war up while he rammed himself full.' There were two cabins remaining between ourselves and Taffy and we each investigated one, with negative results.

'What did you get?' demanded Geordie.

Taffy crunched on his apple. 'Ian put one laddie to sleep -he wasn't Kane and not big enough by all accounts to be Hadley.'

'Damn! The bastards aren't here, then. We got another-that's seven.'

'One in the bows and we got two more, skipper,' Taffy said. 'That's seven on board.'

Geordie began to calculate. 'There's no less than fifteen getting boozed up ashore – that makes twenty-two. And there's eight at the hotel – that's thirty.'

'The ship's over-crewed,' said Taffy with the air of one making a profound statement.

'So is a battleship,' snapped Geordie. 'And that's what this is. They wouldn't need all this crowd just to handle the ship. Where's Jim?'

'In the engine room.'

'Good. You nip up on deck and keep watch. I don't think any of the officers will be coming back now, but the crew will, and Ramirez might come back for a check-up.'

We went aft and found Ian breaking open a desk in one of the bigger cabins. I was about to protest when I realized that it hardly mattered what we did now, short of murder. 'Ramirez lives here,' he told us.

The desk gave us nothing of interest or use and we glanced through his clothing quickly. It was elegant and extensive for shipboard life. 'Have you found our birds?' Ian asked as we worked.

'Neither of them,' I said. 'We've slipped up on this one. Campbell is going to be mad.'

Ian was disconsolate. 'My mannie wasn't Hadley. He had a black beard,' he said.

Geordie pricked up his ears. 'Are you sure it wasn't him, or Kane, in a disguise?'

'Na, na,' said Ian. 'It was too long. Kane couldn't have grown it in the time, and Hadley was clean-shaven. And it was real – I pulled it.'

I was looking down and saw Geordie peeling back the carpet, revealing a recessed ring-bolt. 'What's down there?' I asked.

'We can soon find out.' He grasped the ring-bolt and pulled, opening a trap-door. He pulled a torch from his pocket and flashed it down the hole.

'Christ!' he said, and pulled out a sub-machine gun.

We looked at it in silence, and then Geordie said, 'I told you this was a flaming battleship.'

'Let's see what else there is,' I said.

Five minutes later we were surrounded by enough weapons to start a small war. There were four sub-machine guns, fifteen rifles of assorted pattern, half a dozen pistols and a dozen hand grenades.

I summoned up a laugh. 'I wonder what Chamant would have thought of this little lot? He nearly had heart failure at the sight of our four pistols.' But I was feeling a little sick, looking at our haul and my hands, which had been fine up to that moment, were sweating slightly.

Geordie said thoughtfully, 'You were a pretty good armourer in your time, Ian. How would you put this lot out of action?'

'With the bolt-action rifles you just throw the bolts away. With the others, we smash the firing pins.'

'Why not throw the lot overboard?' I asked.

Geordie cocked his head at me. 'We'll do that too. But this mob will then do some skin-diving and I want it to be a wasted effort. Get cracking, Ian, as fast as you can. We've spent enough time here.'

We were ready for leaving fifteen minutes later after carefully dropping the useless guns over the side, with a minimum of splashing. Ian was rolling the last of the bolts he'd taken from the rifles into torn strips of cloth and stuffing them into his pockets. We were about to leave when Taffy suddenly held up a hand. 'Quiet,' he said softly.

We were very still and though I listened hard I couldn't hear anything. Taffy said, 'There's a boat coming.'

Then I heard the faint creak of rowlocks and the splash of oars. I looked anxiously towards Geordie.

'We take them,' he decided. 'We can't have the game given away too soon.' He issued quick instructions and the men spread themselves into the deck shadows. There was a soft bump as the boat reached the boarding ladder, on the other side from our own exit, and a few moments later I saw the outline of a man against the night sky. There was only one man and as he came aboard I drew in my breath sharply.

It was Kane.

'He's my meat,' I murmured to Geordie, who gave me the thumbs up. I moved forward in a crouch. Kane walked forward along the deck and just as he passed me I straightened up and gave him a tap on the shoulder. He turned and I let him have it, as hard as I could to the jaw. Ian tapped him on the head with something as he started to collapse and all in one movement, as it seemed, rolled him into a piece of canvas. Geordie looked over the railings and saw that Kane had been alone in the dinghy. 'That'll get us off the hook with Campbell,' he said with satisfaction.

'I'm not so sure of that,' I said, rubbing my sore knuckles. 'We can't take Kane to the police now. They wouldn't look at all kindly on our methods, and if they find out what we've done to this ship we're for it, right on our side or not.'

'You've said better than you know, Mike,' Geordie concurred. 'We'll leave here right away- and we'll take Mr Kane with us.'

We piled into our boat and pulled for Esmerelda, and as we passed under the stern of Ramirez's ship I looked up and saw her name painted there – Sirena. Halfway across the harbour I had a sudden thought. 'Geordie, what was Jim doing in the engine room?'

'Nothing much,' he said. Jim grinned briefly in the half-light and I was about to speak to him direct when Geordie interrupted me. 'Heave, you bloody pirates – we haven't much time.' He seemed in a devil of a hurry.

As we climbed the bulwarks of Esmerelda I suddenly remembered that Jim Taylor had made a name for himself as a demolitions expert during the war. I hadn't time to develop this thought because Campbell was on to me in a rage.

'What in hell is going on?'

I found I'd stopped sweating and felt very calm. No doubt the reaction would set in later. 'A little bit of direct action,' I said coolly.

Geordie was already giving orders in a quiet bellow. 'Get that bloody engine started up. Slip all lines bar the bow-line. Get that dinghy up smartly now.' The deck was astir with movement.

'You damned fools! You'll get us all gaoled,' Campbell was raging.

'Better gaoled than dead,' I said. 'You don't know what we found on that damned ship.'

'Stand by the warps,' I heard Geordie say. I heard a throb as the engines started.

'I don't care what you found,' fumed Campbell. 'Do you realise you've committed an act of piracy?'

It was lucky that the engine note drowned his voice. In the same moment Ian came running along the deck. 'Mr Campbell, sir. Yon man on the jetty – he wants a wee crack wi' you.'

We both looked ashore in alarm and saw a solitary figure standing just where our gangplank lay. It was about to be pulled inboard, but he arrested it with a gesture. It was Ernesto Ramirez.

'By God, I'll crack him!' I burst out.

Campbell recognised him at once, and I heard a buzz behind me as Nick Dugan breathed the name for the benefit of the crew. I gave Nick a sharp glance and he shook his head slightly, spreading his hands to indicate that there had been no contact before.

Campbell took my arm. 'Easy, Mike, don't go off at half-cock. Let's not compound whatever mischief you've been up to. Hold Geordie, will you?' Amazingly, as my wrath had risen so his had subsided and he seemed in complete control of himself.

He walked away to the gangplank and I shouted, 'Hold it, Geordie! There's a snag – the boss has a visitor.' I followed Campbell.

Ramirez was alone, leaning negligently on a bollard. Obviously he hadn't yet been on Sirena – there hadn't been time for that, and he was too composed. Campbell looked down at him. 'Well?' he asked coldly.

Ramirez smiled up at him. 'I just came to wish you farewell. I thought you would be leaving about now.' I realized that, Nick Dugan or not, he'd seen us at the hotel or he'd seen the Campbells and Paula leaving.

He walked straight up the gangplank and stepped onto the deck, elegant in his white tropical suit.

Campbell's voice was icy. 'You don't have to come on board to tell us that.'

'Maybe not, but I am here.'

To give the devil his due, he had no nerves at all. After doing what he'd done I wouldn't have had the guts to come within a hundred miles of Esmerelda, let alone without an escort. But he was a subtle and clever man, relying on Campbell's known sense of justice, and maybe he knew that our scruples would hold us back. Still, he had guts.

He said, 'I thought I should warn you. I have plans and I do not wish you to interfere with them. Why don't you give up and go away?'

'I'm not concerned with your plans,' said Campbell stolidly.

'You know what I mean, Mr Campbell. We met in battle before and you came off worst. And so you shall again if you do not get out of my way.' He had the Spanish trick of making gutterals out of his aitches, but otherwise his English was good. I didn't think my Spanish would be as fluent.

My mouth was dry. I said, 'Ramirez, you're a bloody murderer and I'm going to see you pay for it.'

His eyebrows quirked. 'Murder?' he queried mockingly. 'That is a libel, Mr Trevelyan. Whom am I supposed to have murdered?'

'My brother, for one,' I said hotly.

Ramirez threw back his head and laughed. 'My dear sir, I'm willing to go into any court in the world on a charge like that.' His teeth flashed! 'You have no proof, have you – no proof at all.' And he laughed again.

That was only too true. The only man who had seen him at Tanakabu was Dr Schouten – and he too was dead.

Campbell said, 'I fail to see the point of this conversation, Ramirez.'

Geordie tugged at my sleeve agitatedly. 'We've got to get awaynow. Before that thing goes bang.'

'What thing, for God's sake?'

He drew me aside and said in a low hurried voice, 'Jim had a small charge of plastic explosive – he slapped it against the crank case of their engine. I wanted to blow a hole in the bottom of their boat but I wouldn't let him – I wish I had, now.'

'When's it due to go off?'

That's it – Jim doesn't know. He rigged up a time switch from an ordinary alarm clock, and you can't get those right to within five minutes or so. I thought we'd be away by now.'

'It'll rouse the whole harbour!'

'But we'd have been gone – nothing to do with us.' The urgency in his voice was an imperative. I looked across at Ramirez and said, 'I think you ought to have the privilege of cleaning your own deck.'

Geordie caught on and went immediately up to the gangplank where Campbell and Ramirez were locked in a low-voiced, furious argument. I noticed Geordie dab his hand on the winch drum and then signal surreptitiously to Ian and Taffy. Of the rest of the crew all were spellbound except Jim, who was watching anxiously across the water. There was no sign of the girls.

Geordie placed himself squarely in front of Ramirez and was blunt in his speech. 'I'm the master of this ship – and the owner – and I'm particular about filth on my decks. I'd be pleased if you'd leave.'

Ramirez went bleak, looking carefully at his scarred face. 'Ah, the brave and foolish Mr Wilkins,' he said insultingly.

'That's me,' said Geordie. He put out his hand and smeared it down the front of Ramirez's gleaming white jacket, leaving a dirty trail of black oil. 'You're dirty, Mr Ramirez.'

Ramirez was so shocked at the action and at the contempt which lay behind it that he just stood there, making no move -but the fury grew in his eyes.

Geordie said again, 'You're filthily dirty, Mr Ramirez. I think you need a wash – don't you, lads?'

They got the idea fast – faster than Ramirez. With a growl they were on to him, four of them. I saw Ramirez's hand go to his pocket as quick as lightning, but Danny was faster and his hand came down in a mighty chop. A pistol clattered on deck.

Then Ramirez was lifted helplessly off his feet and carried to the side. They swung him twice and then over he went, making a great splash. Geordie wasted no time in useless triumph. He turned, picked up Ramirez's pistol and began chopping out orders again. 'Gangplank in. Don't stand there gawking! Ian, get the wheel, and don't run him down. Cast off forrard. Engine slow ahead.'

Esmerelda got under way even while Campbell was still staring over the side. 'Well, I'm damned,' he said to no one in particular, while staring at Geordie. Geordie was oblivious, watching carefully out into the darkness and giving orders in a low, carrying voice. He conned us out past the sleeping vessels and the marker buoys and Ramirez's splashing progress fell astern.

As we drew level with Sirena, anchored in the harbour, there was a dull thump, not very loud, which carried over the water. At the same time there was a flicker of lights from a dinghy arriving alongside. The crew returning no doubt, to find a shambles. That would do her engine a bit of no good. Silence held us until we were well past all the shipping and abreast of one of the openings in the fringing reef, and then a babble of noise got up as everyone's tongue was loosened. Ian had to shout to make himself heard, giving orders to get some sail on her. The excitement on board was electric.

Geordie turned and grinned, his battered face alight with triumph. Raucously he began to sing at the top of his voice.

'Oh, we're off to see the Ozzard – the wonderful Ozzard of Whiz!' He looked very piratical because of the captured pistol dangling negligently in his hand.