X

Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

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 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.” A 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.” ri

“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, 1—‘ There was a

whip-crack 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

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

Categories: Desmond Bagley
curiosity: