The Forgotten Sea

by Beverley Harper

  Real regret clouded his eyes briefly. ‘There’s a coast road from here to the airport. It’s new. I’d like to have a look at it. Do you mind?’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ She picked up the camera bag and stood waiting for him to unlock the car.

  He went to say something, stopped himself, sighed and opened the passenger’s side.

  Holly climbed in, leaned across and released the driver’s door. ‘Did you see Justin back there?’

  ‘Hard not to. You seem to have scared him off. He was hiding behind a tree.’

  ‘I suppose he’ll shadow us all the bloody way to the airport and back.’

  ‘He’s welcome.’

  ‘No sign of Raoul, though. I wonder if he’s still here?’

  Connor shrugged.

  Holly didn’t ask why he wanted to reach one end of the island via the other. It had nothing to do with the treasure. And that, she decided, was her only interest.

  It seemed he really did have sightseeing on his mind. They headed west, almost at sea level, passing through the residential suburb of Oyster Bay nestled in casuarina forests with tree-covered hills rising almost vertically in the background. There was a rather surprising sign high on one which read HOLLYWOOD in exactly the same style of lettering as its somewhat more glamorous counterpart in California.

  Holly had her tape running again. She didn’t like recording in cars because the machine often picked up more engine noise than expected, making playback difficult to understand. On this occasion, however, she wanted the whole thing over and done with. Besides, work removed the need for more general conversation, something that always seemed to end with bitter words between them.

  While Connor answered questions, Holly took in the passing scenery. Here on the north coast, with the coral reef anything up to three kilometres offshore, small sand-ridged islands – the kind cartoonists often drew to depict shipwrecked sailors – seemed to float in the lagoon. The mainland plunged dramatically to the sea below with white beached coves harbouring the occasional fishing community. The road was hardly busy. Once away from Port Mathurin, it became virtually deserted.

  Rodrigues had remained an unspoilt destination. A lover’s paradise. No diversions, nothing to do but enjoy each other’s company. Visitors who did not like snorkelling, scuba diving or just sitting on a beach had very limited options. They could approach the local fishermen to take them fishing. They could walk, ride horses or take one of only three tours on offer – a boat trip to Ile aux Cocos, a bird sanctuary about three kilometres off the western tip of the island; a sight-seeing drive to Port Mathurin and the north coast; or a guided visit to Plaine Corail and Caverne Patate, a cave complex of stalactites and stalagmites some eighteen metres below sea level and nearly a kilometre long.

  The road swung inland towards La Ferme, past the airport turn-off and on to the south coast. Seeing a sign for Caverne Patate, Connor suggested they hire a guide to show them through it. Justin Parker, who had given up any attempt to conceal his pursuit, had followed close behind them along a rough track leading to the cave entrance. He did not join the bus group to which Holly and Connor attached themselves. The torchlit walk underground lasted a good forty-five minutes.

  Holly, who usually found caves claustrophobic, was relieved that Caverne Patate, although rugged, slippery and in some places downright boggy underfoot, was high and wide enough to prevent any panic. The climb out, up crumbling rock steps, was physically a bit taxing, making it evident just how far underground they’d been.

  ‘I wonder what your friend is thinking?’ Connor queried as they returned to the car. Justin Parker was glaring at them, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His undisguised surveillance made him look ridiculous and he probably knew it.

  ‘He’s got caves and treasure on his mind.’ Holly actually felt slightly sorry for him.

  ‘Bit bloody obvious.’

  ‘Well I hope he doesn’t try to explore the cave on his own. With no torch and no guide he’d never be seen again.’

  ‘Great place for dodo remains,’ Connor remarked. ‘Perhaps I should go and tell him.’

  ‘Leave him be. He’s doing no harm.’ It was incredible how, after their recent argument, they were able to call a kind of truce. Holly speculated on her luck. First Dennis and his philandering, now this. She concluded that it would be just as well to give men a complete miss from now on. Far less trouble and no risk of heartache.

  From Caverne Patate, they travelled along the south coast to Port Sud-Est, where Connor suggested lunch. They found a small cafe of dubious character where they chose an outside table. The proprietor, looking terribly pleased that tourists had selected his establishment, took their order personally. Justin Parker was nowhere to be seen, though Holly supposed he was observing them from somewhere.

  Offshore was another tiny island. ‘That’s Hermitage Island. A likely place for treasure if the rumours are anything to go by,’ Connor said. ‘Maybe we should try to hire a boat.’

  Holly looked at him for a long moment before asking, ‘Why are you doing this?’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘The tourist bit.’

  ‘Just trying to help out.’

  Holly shook her head. ‘You really must be desperate to get rid of me, killing two birds with the one stone like this. Finish my interview then pack in as much local information as possible. Tell me something, Maguire, why are you suddenly trying to speed up my departure?’ She was beyond anger or disappointment, speaking without bitterness.

  His eyes were unreadable. ‘I want you out of here, yes. But not for the reasons you think. Believe me.’

  ‘Nice try. You’ve run that past me before. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.’

  He spoke softly. ‘One day, Holly, I hope you learn the truth.’

  ‘You’ve already shown me what that is.’

  Connor looked down at his hands. ‘Yuh!’ He spoke as though his throat hurt. ‘Truth has many sides. Remember I said that.’

  Holly rose. ‘Excuse me. I’ll be back in a minute.’ She went in search of a toilet. She had to get away from him for a while. One minute she hated him, the next he confused her. Sometimes, like now, she wanted to hold him in her arms and smooth away whatever was wrong.

  The toilet, an outhouse at the back of the building, was locked but the proprietor had given her the key. She had Connor Maguire on her mind and was in no rush. When Justin Parker stepped out of nowhere and gripped her arms from behind, Holly was completely off guard.

  ‘My car is this way,’ he hissed. ‘Don’t make a fuss.’

  She turned, not yet alarmed. ‘Justin, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  His eyes would not meet hers. ‘You’re coming with me.’

  ‘I am not. Let me go.’

  He took a ragged breath. ‘I’m afraid I insist.’

  Holly struggled. ‘Let go of me immediately, Justin. This is ridiculous.’ The grip he had on her arms was painful. ‘You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He relaxed his grip slightly. ‘This way.’ Justin turned and pushed her in the direction he wanted to go.

  Holly’s mind raced. The ground was sandy. Connor would be able to read the signs. As they reached Justin’s car she managed to drop the toilet key. One part of her mind was calmly trying to figure out a means of escape, the rest was wondering how alarmed she should be. Justin didn’t look or behave like a man who meant to harm her, but he appeared determined that she do as he wanted.

  He wedged her against the car with his own body. ‘Put your hands behind you.’

  Holly realised he was taping her wrists together. This is not happening! she thought wildly. There must be people about.

  Justin forced Holly into the car and secured her seatbelt.

  She tried to stay calm. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Port Mathurin.’

  ‘Why? What’s this all about?’

  ‘I want to talk to you, that’s all.’

&nb
sp; ‘Justin, this is madness. You’re kidnapping me. You can’t hope to get away with it. Maguire will come looking for me.’

  ‘Shut up,’ he snapped. ‘Just shut up.’ He looked nervously back towards the cafe before getting into the car. Holly could prise nothing more out of him. He remained silent as they drove up and across the island.

  Halfway down the twisting descent from Mont Lubin, Justin turned left on a narrow and deeply rutted dirt track. No more than one hundred metres along it he swung into a driveway and stopped the car. A small, once white bungalow, screened from the road by dense shrubs and an overgrown hedge, sat in the centre of a sadly neglected garden. The view over Port Mathurin and the sea was superb, had Holly been in the mood to appreciate it. Justin unbuckled her seatbelt and cut the tape binding her wrists. ‘Into the house.’

  She had to remain calm. ‘Whose place is this?’

  ‘Inside. We’ll talk inside.’

  The interior was basic and had seen better days.

  ‘Sit down please.’

  Holly chose an armchair. Justin turned a straight-backed chair around and straddled it, opposite her.

  ‘I won’t hurt you,’ he said in a rush, his eyes pleading for understanding. ‘Please, don’t be frightened. You’re quite safe.’

  ‘What do you want, Justin?’ His assurances didn’t do much for her. Was he simply so desperate to learn what Maguire knew about the treasure that he was prepared to abduct her in order to get it? Or was he capable of worse?

  ‘Information,’ he blurted. ‘I won’t hurt you,’ he repeated. ‘Unless . . .’

  ‘Unless what?’

  He seemed jumpy, unsure of himself. ‘I have to make a phone call. I’m sorry to do this.’ Using the same roll of electrical tape, Justin secured Holly’s hands and feet. Then he left the house, saying only, ‘I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.’

  Holly looked around her. There had to be a knife somewhere. She got up with difficulty and hopped to the kitchen. To one side of the sink were three drawers. Holly made it across the room and, turning her back, groped clumsily for the recessed lip of the first. It was more difficult than she expected. She managed to get hold of it easily enough but, in order to pull the drawer out, she needed to move forward. She finally worked out a distance from the drawer that was close enough to reach it without falling over backwards but far enough away to lean forward and open the drawer a fraction. She repeated the process three or four times before it was sufficiently open for her to look inside. It took minutes to reveal nothing more than several candles and some paper bags.

  The middle drawer was easier but contained only string and spare light bulbs. To reach the lowest one, Holly had to lie on her side, then pull and wriggle forward. Nothing. Completely empty. ‘There must be something here somewhere,’ she muttered. ‘Corner cupboard, recently built by the look of it. Try that.’ She hopped over, took the doorknob in her mouth, and zigzagged her bound feet sideways, shuffling millimetre by millimetre. Breathing was difficult with the round knob in her mouth. With the door open, she let go for a second to catch her breath. Spring return hinges immediately pulled the cupboard door closed again. After a number of frustrating attempts, she had to admit defeat.

  ‘Try the other rooms.’ One door was shut, the handle impossible to reach. The second proved to be a sparsely furnished bedroom Justin was obviously using. That left only the bathroom, which yielded nothing useful. Holly had just returned to the lounge when she heard Justin’s car. She hopped over to the armchair and fell into it, hoping that the dirt on her white clothing would not be noticed. He burst into the house looking positively anxious and appeared relieved to find her still there.

  ‘Let me remove that.’ His hands shook as he cut through the tape.

  Holly gratefully rubbed the circulation back into her wrists and ankles.

  Once again, Justin straddled the wooden chair. He looked slightly embarrassed. Holly took a guess that the phone call had been to Raoul Dulac. ‘How come you know so much about me?’ he asked suddenly.

  Holly hesitated and then, because she was growing angry, threw caution to the wind. ‘I had you checked out by the magazine.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I saw a copy of William Maguire’s map in your pocket.’

  ‘That day on the beach?’

  She nodded. ‘On top of that, you also didn’t seem to know about the solitaire. A bit strange for somebody working on a dodo research project, don’t you think?’

  Justin smiled condescendingly. ‘I’m afraid that was just professional snobbery on my part. There is strong scientific evidence to suggest that the solitaire and the dodo are related but not the same bird. I didn’t see any point in correcting your assumption that the two were the same. Most people make that mistake.’ He made a steeple with his hands and buried the lower half of his face into it so only his eyes were visible. His voice was muffled. ‘I didn’t want to do this. You brought it on yourself.’

  ‘Really, I fail to see how.’

  ‘You and that man.’

  ‘Connor Maguire, you mean?’

  Justin nodded.

  Holly allowed her anger to show. ‘That’s ridiculous. All I’m doing is covering his search for treasure which, incidentally, he has as much right to as you. Why the hell don’t you join up with him instead of going through all this cloak and dagger stuff? If anything does exist there should surely be enough to share. As for kidnapping me, Justin, I could have you sent to prison for this.’ Risky, Jones. Why don’t you keep your big mouth shut?

  Panic and then determination showed on his face. Given a choice, Holly wasn’t sure which she preferred. Either could prove dangerous.

  Justin scowled. ‘I’m not kidnapping you.’

  ‘Then let me go.’

  ‘I can’t. There’s someone who wants to talk to you.’

  ‘Raoul Dulac, I suppose.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘You were at his house on Sunday. I overheard your conversation.’

  ‘Then you know too much.’

  ‘Only that you are after the same thing as Connor Maguire. Aside from this little abduction number, you haven’t done anything illegal. Are you sure you want to proceed with this?’

  ‘I must.’ Justin looked apologetic but determined.

  ‘Does that mean you are prepared to hold me captive until Dulac arrives?’

  ‘He’ll be here soon.’

  Holly strove to maintain her calm. ‘Then while we wait, why not tell me how you know about the treasure?’

  His willingness to answer surprised her. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any harm in that. Anne-Marie told my mother.’

  ‘Anne-Marie!’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled mirthlessly. ‘Raoul’s sister.’

  ‘Daughter, don’t you mean?’

  It was Justin’s turn to look surprised. He dropped his hands away from his face. ‘Daughter! Anne-Marie said she was his half-sister.’

  ‘She would. It’s a Dulac charade that’s been going on for over thirty years.’

  ‘But that would mean –’

  ‘. . . that Raoul Dulac fathered a child with a nineteen-year-old servant when he was only fourteen.’ Holly saw an opportunity to distract Justin from his obsession with the treasure. ‘He raped her, actually.’

  Genuine surprise, coupled with distaste, was evident on Justin’s face. ‘Good Lord. I had no idea.’

  ‘Nice company you keep.’

  But it didn’t work. Justin’s expression became defensive. ‘The past has got nothing to do with me. We’re partners, that’s all. Anyway, why should I believe you?’

  Holly shrugged that it didn’t matter if he did or not. ‘I suppose Dulac gave you that copy of the map?’

  ‘Anne-Marie did.’

  ‘Same thing. Same family. Why involve you?’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Why would Raoul Dulac want to introduce a third party? He doesn’t strike me as the type who likes to share
things.’

  ‘He didn’t. As I’ve already explained, Anne-Marie told my mother.’

  ‘And Anne-Marie can’t stand Raoul,’ Holly said slowly, remembering the look of hate on the French woman’s face on Sunday. ‘So learning about the supposed treasure and realising that Raoul took it seriously she deliberately set out to throw a spanner in the works. Was it a case of pick a Maguire, any Maguire, or did she already know your mother?’

  ‘Anne-Marie spent twelve months in England as a university exchange student. While she was there she did some digging into her Maguire background.’

  ‘So she knew, even back then, about her real mother?’

  ‘Mrs Dulac took great pains to mention it at every opportunity. She was never very nice to Anne-Marie. Anyway, to answer your question, Anne-Marie found she had a whole host of relatives in the UK. If this treasure thing hadn’t come up she probably wouldn’t have contacted any of us. When she learned of the map she saw it as an opportunity to repay some old debts. I think her original intention was to let as many Maguires know about it as possible then sit back and watch the fun. Fortunately for my family, we were the first she contacted. A coincidence really. She’d hired a car and planned to work her way up to Ireland, visiting Maguires along the way. We live the furthest south.’

  Holly was thinking quickly. Anne-Marie was Kathleen’s daughter and therefore a descendant of William. Justin’s mother, however, was from Kavanagh’s side of the family. Which meant, in Maguire terms at least, that they might well be bitter enemies. Could it be, therefore, that this was Anne-Marie’s way of paying back Kathleen for giving her up at birth?

  ‘Why give the map to your mother? She’s the wrong side of the family.’

  Justin confirmed Holly’s thoughts. ‘Anne-Marie didn’t know about the feud until my mother mentioned it. When she heard about it she changed her original plan. By giving us the copy of the map she could achieve two things.’

  ‘Get in Raoul’s way and get back at her mother, you mean? Why? If the treasure is found –’

  Justin cut in. ‘She’s not interested. It’s nothing more than a mind game to her. Anne-Marie doesn’t believe the treasure exists.’