The Forgotten Sea

by Beverley Harper

  ‘It has been decided that you will get an exclusive when the time comes.’ Madame Liang’s words brought Holly a wave of relief. They’d done it. Liang Song would hardly promise a scoop to someone she planned to kill. ‘If, for any reason, our partnership fails to materialise, Maguire promises a personal interview. Either way, you’ll have your story. If that is agreed, you may go. I do hope you enjoyed your stay with me.’

  Holly bit back a sarcastic reply. ‘Agreed.’

  Connor turned and faced the room. ‘Are you ready?’

  She nodded. To get away from this house she was born ready.

  ‘One last thing.’ Madame Liang was back in control. ‘Do not forget our earlier discussion. There are elements of my business with Mr Maguire that you may fail to appreciate. I will not take kindly to any adverse publicity. Take my words seriously.’

  Holly very nearly told her where to shove her words. What she did say came close. ‘Lighten up, can’t you. No-one cares, least of all me. You may look important in a mirror but out there you’re nothing more than words on a page. I’m a journalist. That means I write what sells. And you, lady, are about as interesting as a stone.’ She looked over at Connor. ‘Can we go? I’ve about had as much of this as I can handle.’

  He nodded and his mouth twitched slightly, but his words were addressed to Liang Song. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  She inclined her head. ‘Four o’clock would be suitable.’

  Holly followed Connor to the car. He made a shushing sound through almost closed lips and squeezed out the words, ‘Say nothing.’ As they got in, Chop rushed to unlock the gates. For five minutes they drove in silence, Connor eyeing the mirror constantly to see if anyone was following. Certain they were not, he pulled over and took a torch from the glove compartment. He played its light over the interior of the vehicle, checking carefully that during his time in the house, the car had not been bugged.

  ‘Okay, we can talk.’ He reached for her. ‘But not just yet.’

  When they parted he let out a shaky breath. ‘That was close back there. She wanted you out of the way.’

  ‘Maguire?’

  ‘You were brilliant. Just the right amount of outrage.’

  ‘Maguire?’

  ‘For a while there I didn’t think we were going to get away with it.’

  ‘Maguire!’

  ‘What is it, baby?’

  ‘If you ever call me ducky again you’d better brace yourself.’ Holly grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled him closer. When his face was just a few centimetres away she let go and put her arms around his neck. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I was kind of scared.’ Then she thumped him none too gently on the shoulder. ‘And as to that reference to Dennis, that was bloody low.’

  He held her close. ‘How about “pathetically transparent creep”? I mean, give a man some dignity.’

  ‘Sorry. Something came over me.’

  ‘Are you okay, baby? They didn’t hurt you?’

  ‘They were a bit generous with the ether. Otherwise I’m fine, barring a dose of terminal boredom. Where were you? When did you get back?’

  ‘We’ll talk about that later.’

  ‘We will! You mean it, Maguire? You’re actually going to tell me something? That’ll make a pleasant change.’

  She felt his silent chuckle. ‘Can you knit?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘Of course not.’ This was the Maguire she loved.

  ‘Pity. Do you think you could learn?’

  ‘Not in a million years.’ Her face was buried in his shoulder and she was grinning. ‘Not even for you.’

  He eased back from her. In the darkness she sensed his eyes boring into hers. ‘Then, my darling Holly, do you have any objection to being chained to a kennel all day so I don’t have to worry about you?’

  She pretended to think about it. ‘You’ll let me off for a run when you come home?’

  ‘I promise.’ His voice was warm and smiling.

  ‘Forget it, Maguire.’

  ‘I love you, baby.’

  ‘I love you too.’ She kissed him. ‘No more duckies. Please, Maguire.’

  ‘Not even a little one?’

  ‘Not even an egg.’

  They drove back to the Merville Beach Hotel. ‘Your room should be safe enough for tonight,’ Connor said. ‘But I don’t want to risk Madame Liang getting another rush of blood to the head. From now until Saturday, you don’t leave my side.’

  Holly figured that would be no hardship.

  She ignored the message envelope that had been slid under her door. It was far too late to contact anyone. Whoever had been trying to get in touch would just have to wait. Besides, she had other things on her mind.

  Holly pointed to the sofa and said, ‘Sit.’ She poured Connor a large scotch and matched its size with her own. ‘Rodrigues first.’ He took the drink and she sat down next to him.

  ‘First?’

  ‘Hang in there, Maguire. It’s going to be a long night.’

  ‘I’m tired,’ he protested mildly.

  ‘Speak.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘There are things you don’t know.’

  ‘Tell me about them. I spoke to Quinn. And before you decide he betrayed a confidence, I would remind you that I’m his only child. Given the choice between keeping a secret and my safety, guess which is going to lose every time.’

  Connor sipped his scotch. ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘So I know about Scylla.’

  He nodded.

  ‘But I have also learned that Raoul Dulac keeps secret Scylla documents on his boat.’

  ‘How on earth did you discover that? For God’s sake, you haven’t been snooping around there have you?’

  ‘Give me some credit. Justin Parker saw Raoul reading one of them on their way back from Rodrigues. He told me.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to Parker!’ Connor sounded incredulous. ‘Are you seriously insane?’

  Holly grinned. ‘Quinn said something along those lines as well. I had dinner with Justin on Saturday night. He’s okay, just a bit mixed up.’

  ‘Parker is a bit more than that. He’s got a bee in his bonnet about the treasure and has become totally myopic. I agree that he’s not exactly the criminal type but beware the one-eyed man.’

  ‘If you insist. Now, could we get back to a few facts?’

  ‘How much did Quinn tell you?’

  ‘Your half-brother worked for Scylla. He was killed in the Seychelles. Raoul Dulac is involved. Oh yes, and a place called Larkswood in the Northern Territory has been monitoring communications between Raoul and Scylla. There’s something going on in the Central African Republic that requires Scylla’s expertise.’

  ‘I will tell you the whole story, Holly, I promise. Just not tonight, okay? I really am bushed.’

  ‘What was the real reason for Rodrigues? Give me that much at least.’

  ‘It was mainly to do with Raoul. I’ve been sticking as close as I can to him. But after you left I spent one more day with Madame Liang’s contact. I’m nearly done with that. The pieces are in place and the game’s about to start. It’s virtually out of my hands now. Australia has details of the volume, the ship’s name, where the drugs will be hidden and when they’ll be dropped off. Undercover bods will follow the delivery and, all being well, that’s when the arrests will start. There are one or two loose ends to tie up with Liang Song but after that, I bow out and distance myself from the whole thing.’ He rubbed fingers across his eyes. ‘As far as I know, Scylla isn’t doing anything illegal. Mercenaries are not socially acceptable, but as long as they have a contract and stick loosely to the Geneva Convention, the law can’t touch them. That aside, Raoul has one or two little sidelines that could get him into trouble. That’s what I’m after. Enough evidence to put him away.’

  ‘Did you come up with anything in Rodrigues?’

  ‘Information is easily bought. I tailed Raoul all over the island. When he finally left, I went back to some of his so-called
mates and found one who had a grudge. Raoul doesn’t pay too well, nor does he necessarily come up with the money on time. Anyway, this chap confirmed that among other things, Monsieur Dulac is heavily into diamond smuggling, drug dealing and money laundering.’

  ‘Can you prove any of this?’

  ‘Not quite.’

  ‘Tell me, how did you hear that I’d been kidnapped yet again?’

  ‘Liang Song’s contact in Rodrigues put the word out. It’s a small place. I was found quickly enough.’

  ‘Aren’t you running a pretty big risk that Raoul will get to hear about your interest in his activities?’

  ‘On my own, it’s a risk I’m prepared to take. I’m gambling on his unpopularity. He double-crosses everyone.’ Connor held up his now empty glass. ‘Any chance of the other half?’

  Holly rose to oblige.

  ‘Are you satisfied now? I know I should explain about my brother but can it wait?’

  ‘Yes.’ She returned with his scotch. ‘Thanks for telling me this much.’

  ‘I didn’t want you mixed up in any of it – not Liang Song or Raoul Dulac. They’re both bloody dangerous. Mmmm! This is good.’

  She waited until he’d put the glass down. ‘There are a couple of things you should know.’

  ‘Sounds ominous.’

  ‘Guy Dulac has become a positive nuisance. There’s a detective tailing him who has warned me to be cautious. He seems to think I’m in some kind of danger.’ Holly related the head-butting incident. ‘I don’t know what Sham wants Guy for but he’s keeping tabs on him big time.’

  ‘Another good reason for you and I to disappear.’

  ‘Agreed. Guy Dulac gives me the creeps.’ She paused. ‘There’s something else too.’

  ‘Why am I not surprised?’

  ‘I think I’ve found your treasure.’

  Connor groaned and closed his eyes.

  Holly watched him for a while. When it became obvious he wasn’t going to comment she said, ‘Don’t you want to know where?’

  ‘Not a lot.’

  ‘Maguire!’

  ‘Okay, where?’

  She told him. ‘We’ll have to take the map and have another look but I’m fairly positive the escarpment is identical in shape. The waterfall flows down a series of terraces. They could be the steps.’

  Connor’s reaction was to sleepily open one eye. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Why are you so tired?’

  ‘I’ve been busy. Raoul Dulac seems to exist on no sleep at all.’

  ‘Is that it then? No more hidden agendas? It’s just that whenever I think I’m getting to know you, up pops yet another of your little breath-stopping gems. Have I got it all now?’

  ‘In essence. A few gaps to fill in but that’s about it.’

  ‘Your gaps have a habit of assuming Rift Valley proportions. But I can wait. You’ll have to tell me everything sooner or later.’

  ‘Later is good.’ He gave her a lopsided grin and picked up his glass. ‘Have you finished the interrogation? Can I go to sleep now?’

  Holly put her drink on the coffee table, took Connor’s from his hand and placed it next to hers. ‘You said it yourself, Maguire. Later is good.’

  The message under her door had been from Justin Parker. It was to wish her luck in Réunion and say he hoped to see her again before she returned to Australia. Connor pulled a face when she showed him. He was less inclined to trust Justin than Holly. In the morning, a couple of telephone calls found them a self-catering studio apartment in Flic-en-Flac, which was on the coast just above Tamarin and conveniently close to the falls. Holly checked out of the hotel and waited in reception for Connor to bring the car. Three people observed her departure with mixed reactions.

  Guy Dulac had been hanging around the hotel on and off for two days. The hotel staff at reception assured him that Holly had not checked out. They obligingly rang her room several times and offered to take a message, something he refused. Guy was aware that his frequent presence was causing speculation. On the morning she finally appeared, he was in his car watching the entrance, his face hidden behind a newspaper. Elation turned quickly to frustration when he saw her suitcase, and then to annoyance when she slid into the passenger seat of a car driven by Connor Maguire.

  Sham, in the hotel grounds to maintain his surveillance of the Dulac kid, was also surprised to see Holly. She should have been safely on Réunion. He surmised correctly that her companion must be the friend she mentioned who had been on Rodrigues. From the little Sham could see of him, the Australian appeared quite capable of looking after himself. Which was just as well if the interest shown by Dulac was anything to go by.

  Justin Parker, returning from a swim, frowned with displeasure when he saw Holly following a porter who was carrying her suitcase to reception. Why had she lied about Réunion? Was that where she was going now? He hung back and waited, only to see her get into Connor Maguire’s car. So, that bloody Maguire was back on the scene. Justin did not see Guy Dulac follow their car, nor did he notice Sham tailing Dulac.

  Guy knew that Sham was behind him. There was nothing he could do about it. He had to see where Holly was going. Once he knew that, Sham could easily be taken care of. And then he’d show that snooty Australian girl a thing or two.

  The dark blue Porsche 911 Carrera convertible driven by Guy Dulac – the cost of which made the car a highly noticeable rarity anywhere in the world and particularly so on Mauritius – raised no suspicions as it kept pace with Connor and Holly. The electrically operated roof was closed and heavily tinted windows made it impossible to identify the driver. Traffic between Grand Baie and Port Louis was heavy and the few glimpses Connor had of the vehicle aroused nothing more than admiration. He assumed, rightly, that the car belonged to one of the privileged class of sugar estate owners.

  Once through the capital the traffic thinned out a little, although its volume was still substantial. With no reason to suspect that the Porsche was tailing them, it did cross Connor’s mind that a vehicle with such power and handling excellence was wasted on the narrow, speed-restricted roads of Mauritius. Neither he nor Holly knew what kind of car Guy Dulac drove. When they turned right to Flic-en-Flac, the Porsche carried on past and was soon out of sight.

  Guy Dulac knew that beyond Flic-en-Flac the road continued for perhaps a kilometre before, at the tiny settlement of Wolmar, it turned east and rejoined the main north-south motorway. If Maguire and Holly were planning to relocate, and the fact that she had her suitcase suggested they were, they’d be easy enough to find. First there was the little matter of Detective Sham to fix. Dulac accelerated away from the policeman. Five minutes later, he found a place to turn and sped north again.

  Sham was surprised when Guy didn’t follow Holly into Flic-en-Flac. That feeling was compounded when the dark blue Porsche raced past in the opposite direction. Although the tinted windows of the sports car made it difficult to see inside, Sham was able to tell that the arrogant little shit actually waved to him. He slammed on his brakes, turned at some risk to himself, and the oncoming traffic, and took off after him.

  Sham was guessing. By the time he reached the turn-off to Flic-en-Flac, the Dulac boy was out of sight. Sham hung a left and drove fast towards the coast. Guy Dulac’s tailing of Holly Jones had him very worried. If nothing else, he could at least warn the girl. Sugar cane grew almost to the edge of the road on both sides, deep storm drains the only thing holding it back. Sham’s concentration was on his driving. When Guy Dulac’s Porsche roared out in front of him over an access viaduct leading to a footpath into the field on his right, Sham instinctively took evasive action. He never even saw the ditch, or the telegraph pole. His last conscious thought was, this is going to hurt.

  Guy had no trouble finding where Connor and Holly had taken accommodation. He hung around long enough to see Maguire emerge from one of the apartments, collect a suitcase from the boot of his car and go back inside. Satisfied, he turned his Porsche for home, passing an exci
ted crowd gathered around Sham’s wrecked car. Perfect!

  Far out in the Indian Ocean an unusual phenomenon had occurred. As Kathleen Maguire had observed a few days before, it was too soon in the year for trade winds. But the temperature of the sea was abnormally high for early September and unseasonal snows in Asia had kick-started a premature northern hemisphere winter. As cold winds blew south to meet warm air rising from the ocean, the two streams were on a collision course, one to fill the vacuum being left by the other.

  Rain showers rode on low pressure from the north. Bands of cumulus cloud dumped their sodden load over the Southern Ocean with increasing velocity. The storms plunged earthwards, compression causing the air temperature to rise. Where an updraught from the sea met air that was descending, an inversion occurred. As the rain intensified to storm proportions, the descending mass broke through and atmospheric pressure at sea level dropped immediately. The earth’s rotation did the rest, causing annual trade winds to spiral in a clockwise direction. A cyclone was born.

  Weather boffins watched the unseasonal depression carefully. They gave it a number for identification purposes. Then, as the trough deepened and the storm’s path became unstable and a serious danger to shipping, they gave it a name.

  Cyclone Yvette was to blow itself out inside of five days. It would not threaten any landmass. The cyclone was noteworthy only because of its unseasonal occurrence. But the accompanying storm surge, waves reaching fifteen metres with winds gusting up to 120 kilometres an hour, had their effect on the container ship Lady Elise, so named after the wife of an ex-Prime Minister of South Africa, to which country the vessel was returning. At some stage during the height of the cyclone, three, six metre long, two tonne steel containers, returning empty to their country of origin, broke adrift and plunged into the Southern Ocean.

  They would float like icebergs, most of their mass under water. Against the blue-grey sea, what little protruded above the surface was almost impossible to detect. Until the containers floated ashore or sank, they would not obey the rules and give way to any vessel – sail or power.

  After observing Holly checking out of the hotel, Justin Parker went to his room and made a phone call. It was to Raoul Dulac. When he replaced the receiver, he was frowning with annoyance. Raoul agreed. The journalist on her own was one thing. In the company of Maguire, quite another.