Once again, Lionel recognised this as a risk management problem, the logic of which he explained to Gary and myself over a rather tense lunch at an excellent little restaurant overlooking the river. The bank was wounded, Lionel explained, and surgery would have to be performed before gangrene set in. There were really only two options. Option one entailed the removal of the whole RMU, including its board supervisor. Criminal charges would be brought against Lionel, Gary and myself, and very possibly Sir George. There would be a nasty public trial in which, to demonstrate the bank’s innocence and resolve, our names would be dragged through the mud before we were given exemplary prison terms. Option two was the discreet route. It would be quietly explained to the secondary lenders that the bank would cover their losses after the discovery that two of its staff (reckless antipodean colonials, naturally) had bypassed internal controls and procedures.
The board was in a bloodthirsty mood, Lionel explained, and currently favoured option one. But he had carried out a very detailed worst-case scenario analysis calculating all the possible eventualities of both courses of action, and he was confident that cooler heads could persuade board members to go for option two. That, of course, would depend on Gary and myself making a full confession of sole responsibility for the debacle, making token reparations to the bank (basically everything we owned), signing a binding confidentiality agreement, and returning to the far side of the world, never to be seen again.
But what would happen to you, Lionel, we asked, and Sir George? Solemnly, and without a hint of shame, he explained the irresistible logic by which it would be necessary for the bank to demonstrate the limited nature of the breach by rewarding those who had isolated it.
We really had no choice. Within a couple of weeks Gary and I were boarding a plane at Heathrow, all risks neatly managed, moral hazards expunged.
‘So you didn’t even make any money out of it?’ Anna said.
‘That’s right. Then on the plane, just before we reached Bangkok, Gary mentioned that Lionel had been screwing my girlfriend all along. He thought I must have known.’
Anna said nothing for a while, then murmured, ‘Yes, I don’t really think you were cut out for risk management.’
In the fading light I watched small gulls hurled backwards through the air in front of us by the force of the wind.
21
About the only thing that could be said for our ledge was that it was free of centipedes, probably because it was too inhospitable even for them. Soaked through and frozen, I passed the night in a semi-comatose state in which hellish winds swept in and out of nightmares steeped in guilt.
Just before dawn I jerked awake with the certain knowledge that Anna had died during the night. I felt for her hand and it was stone cold. I thought, oh, so this is the end. I didn’t want to try to go on without her, and I was filled with the same sense of calm I’d experienced when I realised I was going to fall on Frenchmans Cap and nothing could be done. I didn’t feel afraid. I reached for the clip attaching our rope to the anchors. My fingers were clumsy with cold as I worked to release it so we would plunge down into the ocean, as Luce had surely done.
Then the corpse stirred and mumbled something about scrambled eggs. I had actually just managed to unfasten the clip, and any movement would have sent us slithering over the edge. I refastened it quickly, and we clung together as the first glimmer of light grew in the sky.
With dawn we untangled ourselves and speculated about raiding seabird nests, but the thought of a raw gull’s egg was only marginally more appealing than that of a raw gull. While I was groping around in my pack to see if there was one last cracker hiding in the lining, I came upon Luce’s chalk bag. I had a look inside, but all I found was the remains of a large black insect curled in the chalk dust. It didn’t look edible.
The important thing, Anna said, was to get back down to the southern tip of the Pyramid, where we might hope to attract the attention of a passing boat. And surely, we agreed, they would have to send out boats today. We said this forcibly, to cover up the fact that there was no reason why anyone should think to look for us out here. So when the rain died away we unhooked ourselves and stretched our aching limbs, and started abseiling and traversing down the cliffs in short, cautious stages.
In the late morning, as we reached Winklestein’s Steeple, the weather closed in again and we were forced to take shelter in the centipede cave. This time we weren’t in a mood for compromise, and swept and beat the little bastards back to the deepest recess. The weather was so foul and the visibility so limited that we could see no signs of a rescue boat out on the stormy water. Later, when the rain eased a little, we continued further down the ridge until we found a sheltered ledge free of wildlife. Then the rain began to pour down again and we tied ourselves in for our third night on the Pyramid.
The following morning dawned with a brilliant calm, the first rays of the sun sparkling on clear water, white birds swooping across the swell, as if the storm and our struggle down the rain-lashed mountain had been no more than a bad dream. We continued on down, step by step, pitch by pitch, until we stood on the rock platform at the southern tip on which we had first landed. And there, as if according to some prearranged schedule, we heard the purr of an engine, and Bob’s boat circled into view, just fifty metres offshore. We waved and shouted, and the boat came to a stop. It stayed out there, bobbing in the swell, and we made out the figure in the wheelhouse, looking at us through binoculars.
There was something rather eerie about the way he just waited out there, and finally I said to Anna that I would swim over. I was worried about the weight and drag of the rope across that distance, but unless he came closer there wasn’t much I could do. At least the sea was relatively calm, and if the worst happened I’d just have to untie the rope and let it go. So I stripped off and dived in. As I thrashed through the water I became aware of the engine noise increasing, and saw that he was heading towards me. Then he was alongside and hauling me aboard.
I lay in the bottom, spluttering, while he freed the rope from my waist and waved to Anna, who had tied our bags to her end of the rope, and now jumped in. I pulled myself up onto the seat and watched, shivering, as Bob hauled her across. And as I watched him, strong and capable, a nasty thought came into my mind. He had rescued us, yes, but what now? Whatever had happened to Luce on Balls Pyramid, he’d been a part of it, and it seemed to me entirely possible that he might prefer that we, too, should disappear into the ocean. I looked around, wondering if there was anything that I might use as a weapon, but I could see nothing apart from some fishing rods, an esky, a bucket and some lengths of rope. As a fisherman I assumed he would be carrying a knife. I tried desperately to think.
Now he was helping Anna over the side, and then pulling the plastic bags with our clothes and gear on board. I decided suddenly that this was the time to act, and I took a couple of paces over to the controls and pulled the key out of the switch. Immediately the motor coughed and cut out.
Bob turned to face me. ‘What’re you doing, mate?’
‘Are you carrying a knife, Bob?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Take it out of your pocket and place it on the seat over there.’
‘What?’
On the other side of the boat, Anna, gasping and wiping wet hair off her face, stared at me in surprise.
‘Put the knife down and step away, or I’ll throw this key overboard.’
He squinted at me as if wondering what kind of beast he’d fished out of the sea. I must have looked demented—bruised and scraped and swollen all over, the light of madness in my eyes.
‘What’s that, Josh?’
‘Do what I say!’
‘All right.’ He felt in his trouser pocket and brought out a large clasp knife, which he carefully laid down where I’d indicated.
‘Step back.’
He did so, and I darted forward and grabbed the knife.
‘What happened to Carmel’s boat, mate?’
‘The currents smashed it on the rocks,’ I said.
‘Ah, well, reckon the same’s goin’ to happen to us if you don’t let me start that engine.’ He spoke slowly, as if he didn’t want to alarm me, or perhaps because he thought my brain wasn’t quite right.
‘Then you’d better tell us the truth, Bob. We found a note Luce left, on the Pyramid.’
‘A note? What did it say?’
‘Just tell us what happened. Then I’ll give you the key.’
He frowned, then spread his hands. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you, but I reckon I need to start the engine.’
I followed his gaze and saw that we were being drawn into the foaming swell that bordered the rocks. ‘All right.’ I replaced the key in the ignition and joined Anna on the seat as he went to the controls. We pulled on our clothes while Bob got the boat going and steered it out into open water. When we were a safe distance away from the rocks he throttled back and came to sit opposite us.
‘You’ll be getting quite a reception when you get back. They’ve had search parties out looking for you all weekend. They reckoned you must have gone up Mount Gower on your own like you’d said, and got lost or hurt on the slopes, but my hunch was you were out here, specially when I couldn’t find Carmel’s boat.’
‘And you know why, don’t you, Bob? Luce was out here, wasn’t she? You brought her.’
He nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes.’
‘You’d better tell us everything, the whole truth.’
‘Mm. You hungry?’
‘God, yes!’ Anna burst in.
‘I’ve brought some sandwiches and coffee. Here.’
I eyed him warily as he got up and brought a backpack from the wheelhouse. Anna ripped open the top of a plastic container and began stuffing a sandwich into her mouth. Bob poured coffee from a flask into a cup and handed it to me. ‘There’s cold beer and drinks in the esky, but I reckon you need to warm up.’
I took the cup gratefully. The coffee smelled wonderful. I felt as if I’d been shivering for days.
‘They finished their work on the cliffs below Mount Gower,’ Bob began, in that same slow drawl, as if we had all the time in the world, ‘and they still had a bit of time left, and Marcus wanted to have a look at Balls Pyramid. It’s the only place where the Kermadec petrel breeds, and he said he was thinking of doing a field study there the following year. Of course, being climbers the others were keen to see it too, although I told them it was out of the question to land there. Marcus said, no problem, he only wanted to take a look at the birds from the boat.
‘So I agreed to bring them out here, that was on the Thursday. It was a fine day, and I took them slowly round, stopping to let them look up there with their binoculars. There was a fair bit of whispering going on among them, as if they were discussing something private, but I didn’t take too much notice. Then, when we got to the south end, Marcus asked if I could take them in closer. I did it, and next thing, while I was concentrating on the water ahead, with Marcus standing at my side distracting me, those two blokes, Owen and Curtis, put on wetsuits and dived overboard. They made it over to the Pyramid and climbed up onto the rocks over there. They had a line, and were towing gear. Turned out they had a radio, too, so Marcus could talk to them. They’d planned the whole thing. Marcus apologised and said they just wanted to have a quiet look at the place. They were all very excited about it, Luce especially. She and Damien followed the other two over there.’
‘So Damien was with them that day, the Thursday?’
‘Sure, and the other days too.’
‘You went back again?’
Bob nodded, looking unhappy. ‘They spent most of Thursday over there, but they weren’t satisfied. They wanted to come back on the Friday, the day before they were due to leave. And Curtis and Owen wanted to stay overnight on the Pyramid, to observe the birds. I didn’t like it, but in the end I agreed.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Marcus made me a good offer for the hire of the boat. They seemed to know what they were doing. I thought it would be okay. Big mistake.’
He hung his head. I thought the bit about Curtis and Owen staying there overnight sounded strange, and wondered if he was lying, but I let him continue.
‘What happened?’
‘We went out the next morning, weather fine as before, but there was something wrong between them. They didn’t seem happy, not talking, Luce especially. I thought they were just hung-over after the party the night before. Anyway, they went ashore, and I anchored and we kept in touch with them by radio. Then around three in the afternoon something happened. They were up on Gannet Green, I’d been watching them with the binoculars. I had a line over the side and I got a bite. I was pulling it in—a nice big yellowfin—when Marcus began shouting into the radio. When I asked him what was wrong he just shook his head, angry. I landed the fish and he began arguing on the radio with someone. I couldn’t really hear because he turned his back to me, so I looked up at the others on the rock. I could see the three men, staring upwards, but I couldn’t make out Luce. Then two of them—Owen and Curtis—began climbing up the ridge above Gannet Green. I watched them through the glasses and then I spotted Luce, high above them and climbing fast.
‘I asked Marcus what was going on. He wouldn’t say at first, but eventually he told me that they’d had some kind of a quarrel, and Luce had stormed off.’
Anna and I exchanged a glance. This didn’t sound right, not like Luce at all.
‘Apparently Marcus had sent Owen and Curtis after her to calm her down and get her to come back, but they lost her. She was much quicker than they were, and it seemed she didn’t want to come down. Time went by, no progress, and I started to get worried, the afternoon wearing on. They were high up and it was going to take them a while to get back to the boat, and I wasn’t going to risk trying to pick them up in the dark. I told Marcus, and he radioed for them to return. He was mad, and said it would teach Luce a lesson to have to spend the night out on the Pyramid on her own. I didn’t like that idea at all, but what could I do?’
There was something about the way he was telling the story that didn’t quite jell with the impression I’d previously formed of him. He was too passive somehow, playing for sympathy. The sun was warm on our faces, and I asked if I could have a beer. I felt I needed one. He opened up the esky for me and went on with his story.
‘So they returned to the boat, just made it as the light was fading. I was trying to keep an eye on the cliffs, but I didn’t get another sight of Luce. We returned to Lord Howe, nobody saying a word.
‘When we woke up the next morning a gale was blowing. The forecast was bad. We waited from hour to hour for the weather to ease. The flight from the mainland was delayed, and Marcus decided to postpone their return for forty-eight hours. The storm didn’t die down, though—if anything it got worse. In the afternoon I tried to take the boat out, but I couldn’t get beyond the reef, the seas were too big. Maybe we should have called for help then, but we’d already told people that Luce was safe with us, lying down in her room.
‘The next day, Sunday, the weather was better, and we set out first thing for the Pyramid. Of course, we hoped to see Lucy waiting for us at the south end, just like I hoped to see you two down there on Saturday when I came looking for you. But there was no sign of her. We circled the rock several times and couldn’t see a bloody thing. Then the three blokes swam over and started searching on foot. By late afternoon they’d found nothing, and we called them back.
‘We were in a panic now, I can tell you. What should we do? By the time we got back to Lord Howe we’d convinced ourselves that she was a goner, and the main thing now was to cover our backs. I’m not proud of myself, but I have to tell you, if I was put in that situation again, I reckon I’d probably do the same thing. We decided on what we’d do the next day—spend the morning at Balls Pyramid for one last search, then go to plan B. And that’s what we did. At midday we called off the search and I took them to the Mount Gowe
r cliffs where we’d been telling Carmel we were. They knew there was a patch of dangerous loose rock some way up, and the plan was to fake an accident there, where it would be difficult for people to take a close look. That’s when Damien got cold feet. He said he didn’t want anything to do with it, and insisted on being taken back. So I landed Owen and Curtis at the foot of the cliff and took Marcus and Damien back to the jetty. At two Curtis radioed Marcus, and I raised the alarm with Grant Campbell. Of course, it was all far too late by then.’
‘And you sent them off to the wrong place,’ Anna said bitterly. ‘Didn’t you think she could still have been alive on the Pyramid?’
‘I did go back there several times during the search, but there was nothing. So … what did she say, in the note?’
‘What does it fucking matter?’ I said, hearing my voice crack. ‘She died.’ I glared at Bob. His air of penitent regret was irritating me. ‘So what had happened on that Friday, Bob? What was the argument about? Why did she run?’
‘I don’t know, Josh,’ he said, too smoothly. ‘They wouldn’t tell me. They just said something about a professional disagreement, as if I didn’t need to know.’
‘And you didn’t insist? They’d put you in the position of being an accessory to murder, and you didn’t insist on knowing why?’
‘It wasn’t murder, Josh,’ he said in that soft sad voice. ‘The way I saw it, they’d had a row, and she went off to calm down and think things through on her own. But her timing was bad—it was too late in the day, and a storm was on its way. It was just bad luck, for all of us.’
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