The White Witch of the South Seas

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘I can,’ he responded with the suggestion of a quick grin, ‘but maybe later.’

  ‘About that we’ll see,’ she said, with mock primness, as they walked towards the hotel entrance. ‘I have not yet forgiven you for deserting me for so long. Although I suppose I’ll have to, as you spent most of the time in prison.’ They then agreed to meet in an hour.

  Up in her room Manon collapsed upon her bed and lay for a while staring at the ceiling. Her heart beat a little faster as she thought of the narrow escape she had had. It was quite a long time now since she had reluctantly come to the conclusion that, having had his fun with her, Gregory had found some other woman who appealed to him, so she had lost him for good. Her hopes of getting him to marry her having come to an end, no reason remained why she should endeavour to put a check on Pierre Lacost’s activities. More than ever in need of money, she had become desperately anxious that he should secure the Maria Amalia’s gold, and to help him she had even connived at murder.

  He had told her about the partnership that he had entered into with de Carvalho, then that he meant to get rid of him and how. She had agreed to lend her island for the deed, and only over lunch that day Pierre had told her that it had been satisfactorily carried out. Earlier he had wanted her to play hostess to de Carvalho, but, just in case some question about the way in which he had met his end should later be raised, she had refused, and had left her island before the Colons arrived so that, whatever happened, she could never be associated with de Carvalho’s death. Now, she had good reason to thank the gods for that cautious streak in her nature; for, had she remained while the Colons were there, Joe-Joe would have told Gregory of it. Then she could not possibly have concealed from him her association with Pierre.

  That Gregory had swallowed her story about lending her home to André Gougon without the least idea that he had become a crook she had no doubt. And here was this immensely wealthy potential husband back again, within her grasp. He had not met and gone off with some other woman, after all, but had spent the greater part of the time they had been separated immured in prison. He had made it obvious, too, that he was as mad about her as ever. What stupendous luck.

  But she was very far from out of the wood yet. Along with his other activities, Pierre had continued as her lover and now, having returned to Suva that morning, he had taken a room at the Grand Pacific. Only her patron saint could have intervened to prevent Gregory from finding them lunching together, and over lunch Pierre had declared with gusto his intention of sleeping with her that night. Gregory obviously meant to also. Somehow a clash must be avoided, but it was going to tax all her ingenuity.

  Jumping off the bed, she hastily began to dress, then made up her face. As soon as she had finished, she phoned down to the office and got the number of Pierre’s room. Hurrying along to it, she knocked on the door. To her consternation, there was no reply. Half-running, she returned to her own room and swiftly wrote a note: Sallust is here. You know my intentions towards him. Remember all you owe me. For God’s sake keep out of the way and leave this hotel as soon as possible. In no circumstances come to my room tonight.

  Putting the note in an envelope she again hastened to Pierre’s room and slipped it under the door. Then, endeavouring to still her agitation, she went downstairs to meet Gregory.

  He, in the meantime, while washing and shaving, had been considering what he should do about Manon. Highly conscious that to sleep with she was a woman in a thousand, he was greatly looking forward to the night to come. But what then? He was expecting to leave Fiji for Tujoa in four or five days. That seemed all too short a time in which to enjoy to the full a resumption of their liaison. Should he take her with him? That was the question. After all, why not? Through her connection with the Colons she could be dangerous. But he credited himself with the ability to keep an eye on that.

  If he did take her he would have, to some extent, to let her in on what was going on. But how much? Obviously that Olinda now held the licence, so that should Lacost and his pals attempt to salvage the gold they could be legally branded as pirates. Yet they must know that already. So, if he kept her in the dark about his day-to-day plans, what harm could she do?

  When they met in the lounge for drinks it was overtly as old friends—lover and mistress who were happy with one another and had not a care in the world. Unaware that Manon already knew that de Carvalho was dead, Gregory related quite casually how, during his visit to her island, he had learned that the Brazilian had accompanied Lacost to it and had been hit on the head by a falling coconut.

  Later, over dinner, he referred airily to de Carvalho’s death being a stroke of good luck for James, as the handsome young Ratu had for some time been in love with the dead man’s widow. He went on to say how well everything was panning out, as Olinda now held the licence and, as she reciprocated James’ love, they would in future work together.

  Having given Manon this handout of information, he felt that he had put her in the picture as far as was necessary. Then he laid himself out to charm her. While doing so, in fact during the whole of dinner, he had sensed that she was having difficulty in concealing nervous tension. That, he suspected, might well be accounted for by the possibility that, in spite of her having said that she had not got a beau, she was in fact having an affaire with someone in the hotel, or anyway in Suva, and feared that at any moment her new lover might put in an appearance.

  It was not until they were having coffee and liqueurs in the lounge that she gave a reason for the nervy state in which she had been all the evening. Hesitantly, she said:

  ‘Chéri, you must not come to my room tonight. I could not be sorrier. It is appalling luck when, after all this time, we have just met again. But there is no controlling nature. Fortunately, I am over the worst, so tomorrow I’ll be all right. We’ll just have to be patient and make up for lost time as soon as I’m well enough to have you love me.’

  Naturally, Gregory was disappointed and, while her excuse might have been valid, it tended to deepen his suspicion that she was expecting another lover. To test the situation further, he said:

  ‘Of course I understand. But never mind. It’s so long since we have seen each other that we still have lots to talk about, so I’ll come to your room anyhow. I’ll bring along a bottle of champagne and we’ll have a cosy chat. At least I’ll be able to enjoy some of your luscious kisses.’

  ‘No!’ she protested hastily. ‘No, please! When I am like this I can’t bear to be touched. And I’m feeling rotten. I meant to go to bed early and take a sleeping pill. I promise you that tomorrow I’ll make it up to you a hundred-fold.’

  ‘That settles it,’ he thought, and for a moment his sense of mischief led him to contemplate walking in on her a little after midnight. But he quickly dismissed the idea. Not only could it lead to a most unpleasant scene, as a result of which he might lose her altogether, but it would be a dirty trick to play. She had every right to take another lover. In fact, believing that he had deserted her, it would have been surprising if she hadn’t. After all, what really mattered was that she had shown real delight at his return; and if she had another lover she obviously meant to get rid of him as soon as possible.

  When they had finished their liqueurs she went up to her room and shortly afterwards he also went up to read in bed; so he did not see Lacost when the Colon passed through the lounge soon after ten o’clock on his way upstairs.

  On reading the note Manon had left for him, Lacost gave vent to a string of unprintable oaths. He had believed that, having made away with de Carvalho, the treasure was now as good as his. On reaching Tujoa, he had meant to tell Elbœuf that he was acting on behalf of the dead man’s widow, hoping that if Elbœuf called on her for verification, she would reply in the affirmative. Then, by the time she arrived in Tujoa, he would have got up the gold and have devised some means of swindling her out of her share of it. Now the accursed Sallust and the young Ratu, of whom he had heard nothing for months, had suddenly appeared on the sc
ene again and threatened to ruin all his plans.

  He was made even more furious by the fact that he had taken a room at the Grand Pacific for the night only in order to sleep with Manon; otherwise he would have remained with his friends in the Pigalle. And now that pleasant prospect had also been scotched. It seemed certain that Sallust would want to sleep with her, and now she had been given a second chance to get her claws on his money it was most unlikely that she would refuse him.

  Nevertheless he must ignore her forbidding Mm to go to her room. It was imperative that he should see her, in order to learn whatever she might know about Sallust’s plans. As it was still early and unlikely that Sallust would join her much before midnight, he was tempted to go along to her at once. But, on second thoughts, he decided that he dare not risk it. If Sallust did come upon them together their secret association would be blown once and for all, and she was far too valuable as a spy in the enemy camp to be thrown away.

  Seething with rage, he marched up and down his room. Then his glance fell on the bedside telephone. Snatching it up, he had the office put him through to her. When she answered he asked gruffly:

  ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘I dined with him and had the very devil of an evening. I feared every moment that you might turn up and queer my pitch with him by, one way or another, putting your foot in it.’

  ‘I suppose he will be coming along to you later.’

  ‘No. That is, I’ve stalled him off by telling him I am unwell. But we can’t be certain that he won’t think up some excuse to come to my room. I’m sure he suspects that I put him off only because I was expecting someone else, so he may try to catch me out.’

  ‘I can’t help that. I’ve got to talk to you.’

  ‘Listen!’ Her voice was sharp with anger and apprehension. ‘If you come to my room I’ll scream the place down. Can’t you realise what his turning up again means to me? It’s the chance of a lifetime. If you ruin it I’ll kill you! I swear I will!’

  ‘If you made a scene you’d ruin yourself,’ he retorted sullenly, ‘because I’ll spill the beans to him about you.’

  ‘Then I’ll spill the beans about what happened on my island,’ she snapped back.

  ‘Grâce de Dieu!’ he gasped. ‘Keep a guard on your tongue, girl. Now, look. If you won’t let me come to you, you must come to me.’

  ‘What, and risk his finding my room empty? That would be as bad as if he found someone with me. He’d be certain to think I was keeping an assignation.’

  ‘There will be no risk if you leave it late enough. Or, better still, make it early tomorrow morning. Ask the office to give you a ring at six o’clock. Then if you meet anyone on your way here they’ll think you are going for an early swim. The number of my room is 103.’

  For a moment she hesitated, then she said, ‘All right. I’ll do that.’

  Soon after six, having given a swift glance to either side up and down the passage, Manon opened the door of Pierre’s room and slipped inside. He was lying on his back, snoring loudly. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she gave him a quick shake. The snoring stopped abruptly. With a grunt he sat up, blinked at her, then rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

  Going to the window, she pulled aside the curtain to let in more of the early-morning light. Returning to the bed, she perched herself on the end of it and said, ‘Well, here I am. What do you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘Sallust, of course,’ he replied, heaving his great bulk higher up against the pillows. ‘Where has he been all this time, and what are his latest plans?’

  ‘He and the Ratu were imprisoned by the French for two months. Apparently they went to Noumea and had a row with de Carvalho. The Ratu half-killed him and they were lucky not to have got a longer sentence.’

  ‘I see. De Carvalho never said anything about that to me, but it explains why he was still pretty groggy when I first met him in Tujoa.’

  ‘When they were freed they flew to Tujoa,’ Manon went on, ‘and they meant to start work on the wreck. But the witch-doctor there made trouble for them. He threatened to put a curse on the local divers, so they came on here to collect Fijians. The idea was that the Ratu should make a round of the Yasawas to get the divers, while Sallust put in a week or so with me.’

  Lacost brushed up his long, yellow moustache and grinned. ‘He’s still got hot pants for you, then?’

  ‘He certainly has, thank God. And I’ll hook him yet if you keep your nose out of my affairs and don’t mess things up for me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it—provided you behave yourself. What then?’

  ‘It was lucky for you they didn’t land on my island a day or two earlier or you might not have got away with … with what you did there. Lucky for me, too, that I had the sense to refuse to play hostess to you and the others. If I had I could never have put over my story that I had no idea you were one of the party to whom I had lent my island. Anyhow, Sallust got there only a few hours after you had left. Joe-Joe told him about de Carvalho’s death and instead of going after divers he and the Ratu made straight to Suva.’

  ‘To get hold of the luscious Madame Olinda, I suppose.’

  ‘Naturally; knowing that, unless de Carvalho had taken the licence with him, she must have it. Even if he had, unless you had entered into an agreement with him for a half-share in it, as his widow she has inherited it and, by right of the registration in Noumea, can dispose of her title to it as she wishes.’

  Lacost slapped a hand angrily on his big knee. ‘What a fool I was not to have had a deed of partnership drawn up between myself and de Carvalho. If I’d done that she would be tied to me. But I deliberately refrained, because his heirs would have used the document to claim a half-share. And I had counted on being able to twist her round my little finger when I got back here.’

  Manon’s full lips opened in a malicious grin. ‘That’s what comes of trying to be too clever.’

  Ignoring the gibe, he asked, ‘What do you think the chances are of my persuading her to let me do the job as her nominee?’

  ‘None whatever.’

  ‘Why are you so certain? When we were together in Tujoa, and later here in Suva before I took her husband off to your island, she was quite pleasant to me.’

  ‘Maybe. But she was not in love with you, and she is with the handsome young Ratu.’

  ‘Sacré bleu!’ Lacost exploded. ‘D’you really mean that?’

  ‘That is what Sallust told me.’

  ‘Nom d’un nom! What cursed luck! And I had it all nicely fixed to do the job legally, pay the French their ten per cent, then bilk her out of her share afterwards. Now she’ll go in with the nigger and the English swine. Well, there’s only one thing for it.’

  ‘What is that?’

  ‘Get the stuff up before they have a chance to. Jules smuggled himself aboard the Boa Viagem one night and sabotaged her engines. That was so that I could get de Carvalho to come along for the trip with us and away from his own crew. Now that will pay me another dividend. It will be days yet, maybe a week, before the Boa Viagem can put to sea. Another thing. I’ve got my divers. They haven’t any yet and they can’t get any in Tujoa because the witch man won’t let the divers there play. With luck we’ll have the gold and be off before they even get there.’

  ‘What about the French authorities?’

  Lacost shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘To hell with them! The old Resident will kick up a stink, but we have arms and there aren’t enough police in Revika to stop us. Afterwards we’ll have to disappear. Still, the Pacific is a big place. If there is anything like the amount of treasure in the Maria Amalia that the records in Antigua led me to suppose, it will be well worth lying doggo for a year on one of the islands, to enjoy it afterwards. As for you, mon petit chou, I’ll put your share aside for you. Meanwhile, do your utmost to delay Sallust and Co. setting out for Tujoa. And all the luck in getting him to the altar, then giving him half a dozen pairs of cuckold’s horns.’

/>   Manon nodded. ‘I’ll do what I can; but once he is set on a thing, it is next to impossible to dissuade him from doing it.’

  As she stood up, he lurched forward and grabbed her by the wrist. ‘Not so fast, little one. We’ve lost a night together, but there is still time to get up an appetite for our petit déjeuner?’

  ‘No!’ She tried to pull away. ‘No, Pierre. I’m not feeling like that sort of thing.’

  His good humour restored by his belief that he would be able to get away with the treasure before his enemies reached Tujoa, he gave a great guffaw and cried, ‘You will, ma belle, in another two minutes, I promise you!’

  Still grasping her wrist, he jumped out of bed, swung her round and pushed her backwards on to it. Her struggle was brief and vain. Next moment his heavy body was pinning her down. Relaxing, she closed her eyes and, submitting to the animal ferocity which was his principal attraction for her, gave herself to him willingly.

  At nine o’clock Gregory telephoned her, and they agreed to meet downstairs at eleven. When she appeared she was, as ever, dressed with exquisite taste and her make-up had been so skilfully applied that the sallowness of her skin was not perceptible. Her eyes seemed so large that they detracted attention from her receding chin. Her step was buoyant with the vitality of youth and as, smiling, she extended her hand for Gregory to kiss, he thought again that, dubious as her morals might be, he was lucky as a man no longer young to have acquired such an enchanting companion.

  The weather being warm, but not too hot, they decided to walk the half-mile to the town and, perhaps, do some shopping. In a shop run by Chinese they saw some richly-embroidered jackets and wraps, so he bought several of them for her. Then, as they came out of the shop, they ran into Mr. Hunt.

  When Gregory had thanked him for the excellent arrangements made by his travel service he said, ‘If you would like to do something rather special tomorrow I could fix it up for you. The natives on Beqa are doing a fire-walk. That does not happen often, and it is unique. The Indian fakirs walk on hot ashes, but these chaps walk over white-hot stones—a far more hazardous test of faith and will-power. I’ve a boat going over to the island with a party of Americans, and if you like I could arrange for you to go with them.’