Death Island

by Nick Carter

  At the northern side of the island, Tieggs expertly swung the chopper around in a tight arc, coming back over the island along a path a couple of hundred yards to the east of their first pass.

  This time they were closer to the volcano, and the land rose up much more quickly. But Tieggs knew what he was doing. After a time, Carter forgot completely about the machine and the flying, and concentrated on what he was seeing below… or rather what he was not seeing.

  There was nothing below them, absolutely nothing but the pitch-blackness of a tropical island at night.

  Within a half hour their passes across the island had taken them up and over the center of the volcano's crater. Far below the lip of the mountain, Carter could just make out a dull red glow that backlit slowly rising steam, and then they were past and banking down the far slope.

  Twenty minutes later, on one of their passes just cast of the volcano, Tieggs sucked in his breath. Carter looked up.

  "Uh-oh," the pilot said.

  "What?"

  For several moments they flew on in silence, Tieggs glancing from his instruments to the darkness outside. Then he looked over at Carter and shook his head. "If I didn't know any better I'd say we had passed over a fairly heavy electrical disturbance. All my instruments went crazy."

  "Get us back over it," Carter ordered, swiveling around in his seat and trying to get a view of the jungle they had just flown over. "And bring us down."

  Tieggs complied, swinging the chopper around and down in a very tight, descending arc, and soon they were skimming just over the tops of the trees.

  "About here," Tieggs said. His gaze kept alternating between the jungle below and the instruments on his panel. But there was nothing. When they came to the beach, Tieggs swung the helicopter around and made another pass, but this time was the same as last; all the chopper's instruments remained normal.

  "Maybe I was dreaming or something," Tieggs said.

  "I don't think so, Bob," Carter said.

  "What now? I can't find the spot."

  "Let's get back."

  "Hiva Faui? The base?"

  Carter nodded. "I want to get into town."

  "I thought you wanted a tour of the islands. All the islands."

  "I've seen enough here."

  "Yes, sir," Tieggs said as they burst across the beach, and he climbed to cruising altitude for the run back to the main island. "I can set you down in town if you'd like."

  "I want to go in by jeep. I might want to stay the night."

  "I'm a good jeep driver."

  Carter laughed. "All right, you win, Bob. I'll let you drive me into town tonight."

  * * *

  Neither Owen nor Fenster were around when Carter and Tieggs returned to the station. But they had no trouble signing for a jeep from the motor pool section. Within ten minutes of the time they had set down, they had cleaned up and were headed into town.

  It was a lovely tropical evening. There was a light ocean breeze, the humidity had tapered off, and the temperature had moderated.

  They had each packed a bag with shaving gear and clean shorts and socks, but all the way in Tieggs kept telling Carter that there was nothing for him to see in the town.

  "Nothing?" Carter asked, his right eyebrow raising.

  "There's the booze shop, a couple of taverns, the Chinese settlement up in the hills, and of course the hotel and Madame Leone's."

  "Madame Leone's?" Carter asked, laughing. "Is it what I think it might be?"

  "Right on," Tieggs said with a grin.

  "Any good?"

  Tieggs laughed. "All depends upon your point of view. Madame Leone has eight girls — four of them white, four of them Chinese. If you're Chinese you love the white girls. If you're like us, then you'd probably like the Orientals. All pretty — more or less — and all clean — more than less."

  "And that's it?"

  "Except for the governor's mansion, which is strictly verboten for any of us — except for Mr. Owen from the station."

  "Doesn't like Americans, I hear."

  "Not at all. If it was in his power, he'd blow up the station and set us all adrift in a leaky boat."

  "The obvious question…"

  "No, sir. He and his people are definitely not behind our troubles at the station. He's been investigated up one side and down the other, not only by our own people — the naval intelligence boys — but by his own people."

  "How do you know all this, Bob?"

  Tieggs shrugged. "Hell, it's common knowledge. Everyone knows it."

  "I see," Carter said.

  "Then there's his wife," Tieggs said quietly, and Carter was certain a new note had crept into the young pilot's tone.

  "The governor is married?"

  "Yes, sir. He's a big, fat, ugly slob. But his wife… Gabrielle… now she's a beauty." Tieggs fell silent, apparently contemplating the French governor's wife's beauty.

  They came down out of the hills along the coastal road from the tracking station, and Carter's first ground-level view of Hiva Faui, the capital city, was of a wide, dusty road that led past the municipal docks. There, opposite a half-dozen corrugated metal buildings that Carter supposed were used as warehouses, a miserable collection of rusty, down-at-the-heels fishing boats were tied.

  Why a man would settle for a place like this was beyond Carter. But whatever Governor Rondine's crime against French society had been to stick him out here, it must have been very serious.

  Past the warehouses and public commercial docks were the pleasure boat docks, and beyond them was a lovely white sand beach that led up to a wide square complete with a statue of a World War II soldier and a small fountain.

  A line of well-kept buildings, one of them three stories tall, faced the square across a wide, cobbled street. Behind the buildings were mean-looking shanties and huts that ran all the way up to just below the crest of a flat-topped hill. At the top was a lovely old South Seas plantation house, its wide facade facing the sea. It reminded Carter of the big houses in Jamaica. It was ablaze with lights, and even from here Carter was certain he could see people on the wide porch.

  Tieggs had stopped the jeep just down from the square, and he too was staring up at the governor's mansion.

  "Something is going on up there," Carter said.

  "He has parties all the time."

  "With whom?" Carter asked, looking at the pilot. "I thought he hated Americans, and the only others here are the Chinese."

  There are a few Frenchmen and other foreigners, as well as a few very rich Chinese. Owen and sometimes Fenster are invited over, and of course there are the other islands in the Carolines, easily accessible by air." Tieggs looked back up. "The governor throws a mean party, from what I'm told. They come whenever he sends an invitation just to look at his wife. She's the most beautiful woman in all the islands."

  "I think we should pay the governor and his lovely wife a visit," Carter said.

  "Sir?"

  "Let's get to the hotel. I have to send a message. You and I are going to a party tonight."

  * * *

  They were given a front room on the top floor with two large double beds, a huge ceiling fan, and a wonderful view of the park, the beach, and the pleasure boat docks. A cool breeze came in off the ocean, and Carter stripped down to his shorts and went out onto the balcony.

  Tieggs's nostrils flared slightly at the sight of Wilhelmina and Hugo strapped to Carter's body, but he said nothing.

  Carter picked up the phone, but before he rang for room service he turned back to Tieggs. "Bob, get back out to the base to my room and grab my tuxedo and black shoes. Get yourself a dark suit or tux and get back here."

  "I don't understand."

  "We're going to the governor's party."

  "But… but we haven't been invited."

  Carter laughed as he dialed. "We're going to crash it. I wouldn't want to miss the governor's wife for anything in the world."

  "Gabrielle," Tieggs said softly.

  "Ye
s, Gabrielle. Now get going." The hotel room service clerk answered.

  "This is Carter in three-oh-one. Bring me a bottle of your best dark rum, a pitcher of papaya juice, and some ice," Carter ordered in French.

  "Merci, monsieur," the clerk said, and when Carter hung up and looked around, Tieggs was gone.

  He got up and opened the door to their room so that he could look out into the corridor. It was dimly lit and empty. There was absolutely no noise in the hotel. The building could have been deserted.

  He softly closed the door, lit a cigarette, then unholstered his Luger. He took his silencer from his trouser pocket, screwed it onto the end of the barrel, then pulled out several bills and laid them on the bureau. He went back out onto the balcony and sat down, his feet up on the low table.

  Room service in the person of a very young Chinese boy showed up ten minutes later with his rum, juice, and ice. Carter tipped the boy, then mixed himself a large drink.

  Back out on the balcony, the room lights out, he sat back, Wilhelmina on the chair beside him, and slowly sipped his drink as he watched the occasional car or passerby below on the street and in the square.

  The town was very quiet at this time of night. But Carter suspected that was not normally the case. He supposed that what action there might normally be here in town tonight was centered up at the governor's mansion.

  Contrary to what Tieggs thought, Carter suspected that Governor Rondine was somehow involved in the tracking site's problems. His motives were so patently obvious that the previous investigators had given the man the benefit of the doubt. Carter was not so inclined.

  It was nearing nine o'clock when Carter heard a slight noise at the door. He picked up the Luger and slipped off the safety, then held the gun high against his chest. His back was to the door, but whoever was coming in from the corridor would present a clear target in silhouette.

  He waited a full three seconds, then spun off the chair to the left, bringing his Luger up into a firing position. But if the door was open, then whoever had come in had first switched off the corridor lights, because there was nothing on the other side of the room but a vague darkness.

  A flash of light and the whine of a bullet ricocheting off the balcony railing just above Carter came a moment later. Carter fired three shots in quick succession, one where the light flash had been and one on either side of it, then flattened himself on the balcony and waited.

  A soft scraping noise came to him from the left, near the bed, but he resisted the urge to fire.

  A truck rumbled by on the street below, turned the corner, beeped its horn, and then was gone.

  A signal? Carter rolled to the right, back toward where he had been sitting, a split instant before a powerful flashlight was switched on and two shots were fired at the spot he had just been in.

  Carter fired once above and to the right of the flashlight beam, then high and to the left. The second shot hit home. The flashlight flipped violently across the room, clattering against the wall, then something heavy thudded to the floor.

  For a long time Carter remained where he was. He did not think it had been a trick, but he was not going to bet his life on it for a while yet.

  Someone was out in the corridor, whistling, and then at the door.

  "Hey, Carter, what happened to the lights?" Tieggs called out, pushing in the open door.

  "Look out, Bob!" Carter shouted, but the door was all the way open before Tieggs understood that he might be in some danger. Tieggs thought fast, however, and quickly ducked back into the hallway.

  An inert form was crumpled on the floor at the end of the bed. It had not stirred. A small pool of blood had formed on the floor. Whoever it was was dead.

  Carter got to his feet, keeping the Luger out ahead of him, and crossed to the body, which he carefully turned over. It was a Chinese man.

  "It's all right now, Bob," Carter called. He switched on the room lights as Tieggs, carrying their clothes, came in, wide-eyed and panting.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "Someone doesn't like us, apparently," Carter said.

  Tieggs came the rest of the way in and looked down at the body.

  "Holy shit," he said.

  "You know him?"

  "You bet I do, Mr. Carter," Tieggs said, looking up. "It's Yun Lo."

  "Duvall's batman? The one who tried to kill him?"

  "One and the same."

  Four

  Carter found an empty room on the second floor and took one of its blankets. Back up in their own room he and Tieggs wrapped Yun Lo's body in the blanket, carried him back downstairs, and put him in the bed.

  The man's body would not be found until tomorrow, and then there would be nothing official to connect his death with Carter.

  Once again in their own room, they cleaned up the blood, and Carter collected his shell casings and reloaded his Luger. It had been a busy evening so far. He suspected it was going to get much busier before it was over.

  He and Tieggs both took a shower and shaved, then dressed in their evening clothes.

  "What's likely to happen is we'll be kicked out, if we're even allowed into the house in the first place," Tieggs said, combing his hair.

  "I don't think so, Bob," Carter said. "Just stick with me at first until we're introduced."

  "And then?"

  Carter had finished with his bow tie. He turned around. "You don't have to come with me, you know. Just drop me off up there."

  "I'll come," Tieggs said, suddenly grinning. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I just don't know why you want to go up there. I mean, what does it have to do with your investigation?"

  "Are you ready?" Carter asked, ignoring the question.

  "Yeah… sure," Tieggs said.

  Together they went downstairs, got into the jeep, and headed up the hill. A couple of Oriental men stood across the street at the edge of the square watching them. Other than that pair, the street was deserted.

  At the end of the business district the road turned left up the steep hill, switching back and forth, following the terraced slope on which the shanties were built.

  Near the top the hill began to flatten out, and the road curved around and headed directly toward the governor's mansion, which was contained in a large compound encircled by a tall, wire mesh fence.

  The shanties had thinned out up there, but Carter suspected that farther back into the interior were more of them. Tieggs confirmed it.

  "You can see them back in the hills on a fly-over if you watch for them."

  "Concealed in the trees?"

  "The brush back there is pretty thick. Besides, they don't like company."

  "Who do you suppose Yun Lo worked for?" Carter asked, changing the subject.

  Tieggs glanced at him. They were approaching the compound's gate. Carter could see a couple of armed guards there.

  "I think no one."

  "Then why did he try to kill me?"

  "He knew you were an investigator here to look over the situation. He may have thought you'd come after him. Because of Handley."

  "The entire island knows I'm here?"

  Tieggs smiled. "Every last one of them."

  They pulled up at the gate, armed guards approaching from both sides.

  "Bon soir," Carter said and continued in French. "With my compliments to Governor Rondine and his wife, tell him Monsieur Nicholas Carter is here, with his driver."

  For several long moments neither guard said or did a thing. They remained rooted to where they stood, staring at Carter as if he were some kind of apparition.

  "Neither your governor nor I are patient men," Carter snapped.

  The guard on the opposite side spun around and hurried into the guardhouse, and through the window Carter could see him pick up a telephone. Meanwhile, the other guard had placed his hand on the butt of his pistol at his hip.

  In the overhead light from a stanchion above the gate, Carter could clearly see the man's face. He was a European, there was little doubt o
f that in Carter's mind, and yet there was an ever-so-slight Oriental cast to his features. Perhaps a grandparent had been Oriental.

  The other one came from the guardhouse. He looked surprised.

  "There is parking on the far side of the house, Monsieur Carter," he said.

  "Merci," Carter replied.

  "Please have your driver remain with your car, or if you wish, he may be dismissed, and a ride into town or out to the receiving station will be provided for you, sir."

  "Of course," Carter said, inclining his head.

  The gate swung open, and they drove through. They went up the road and around to the far side of the house where there was a large parking lot. It was filled with cars on one side, and fully a dozen small and mediumsize helicopters occupied the other side and a wide, flat field beyond.

  Tieggs whistled. "We knew choppers were brought in for these parties, but I never realized just how many."

  "Lots of important people here tonight," Carter said. He looked over his shoulder. A separate road ran from the parking lot directly in front of the mansion and then connected with the road back to the gate.

  "I know what you're going to say," Tieggs said heavily.

  Carter looked back. "If you can't come in, I don't want you sitting around out here. It's too dangerous considering what almost happened tonight back at the hotel. No, Bob, I want you to go back."

  "The hotel or the base?"

  "The hotel. But watch your step. I won't be too late, I don't think. We can go back in the morning."

  "All right," Tieggs said. He swung the jeep around and drove slowly down the front road, pulling up below the veranda. A few of the governor's guests glanced down in idle curiosity but then looked away.

  "See you in a few hours," Carter said, and he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt as he mounted the steps.

  An Oriental houseboy dressed in an immaculate white uniform met Carter at the head of the stairs.

  "If you will just follow me, sir," he said, and he turned and moved into the house.

  Carter followed him across the wide veranda, which was filled with men and women standing around drinking and talking. At one end of the veranda a pair of lovely young women were dispensing drinks to the guests, and at the other end of the balcony a seven-piece band was just beginning to set up.