Night Of Error

by Desmond Bagley

  There was a dead silence. Campbell broke it. 'What the hell do you mean by that?'

  'I mean this,' said Geordie, suddenly sober. 'The Navy looked for it but couldn't find it. I suppose it's all in the Pacific Islands Pilot – I'd have to look – but there's an account of it in a book I've got on board.'

  'But what is it?' Clare asked.

  'Just what it says. Recife de Minerve. Minerva Reef. It's a hidden shoal.'

  Geordie left us to go down to Esmerelda. Apart from fetching the book he was anxious to know if all was well, and to supervise the beginning of the restocking for sea. He also had to arrange for a cabin for Clare, which I knew would mean a little crowding up for someone else. We agreed that we might as well get on with things, and that all being well we should be able to sail within a day or so; impatience was in the air. I decided to try and have another word with Paula, who had left a note for me, containing her address. I had another idea that I wanted to try out on her.

  I used the phone in the foyer and got her at once. 'Paula, it's Mike. I'd like to talk to you again.'

  'Sure,' she said sleepily, and I guessed that late nights singing meant late mornings lying in. 'When – now?'

  'If I can.'

  'Okay. I'll see you in that little bar up the street.'

  She was waiting for me, sitting at the same table, 'Hi,' she said. 'What's on your mind?'

  I ordered coffee for both of us. She looked fresh and decidedly less tense this morning, and had obviously decided that I was an ally – as I had concluded about her.

  'Hadley and people like him are on my mind. You're sure you don't remember a man called Kane?'

  She shook her head firmly.

  'Or Ramirez – ever hear of him?'

  That drew a blank too. I said, 'Look, how well do you know Tahiti – especially Papeete?'

  'Pretty well. I was there a long time, Mike.'

  I rubbed my chin. 'I don't know it well at all. And I certainly don't know Hadley. I could pass him on the street without a second glance. What I need is a pair of eyes.'

  She said in a small voice, 'You want me to go back to Papeete?'

  I nodded. 'But not without an escort or a backup. Scared of Hadley?'

  'I'll say I am. I don't mind admitting it.'

  I said, 'Paula, I'm here on a small ship crewed by the toughest mob outside of the Mafia – but straight. Most of them are ex-Commandoes and anyone of them could take Hadley with one arm tied behind his back. We're leaving tomorrow, most likely, to sail to Tahiti. If you come with us I'll assign two of them as your permanent bodyguard when we get there. If Hadley tried anything he'll learn something he never knew about dirty fighting, and probably end up with a broken back, or in gaol.'

  I thought that having her on board would be tricky with Kane around, but she said they had never. met and it was worth the risk. If I left her behind I might never have another chance to use her.

  'You'll have company, by the way – female company, if you're thinking about that. The girl we were with last night -she's coming too.'

  She bit her lip. 'Oh Mike, I'd be scared. Besides, I'm on contract here, though it's up in a couple of weeks. I don't want to run out on a contract. Things like that get about in my business.'

  I said, 'If it's money you're worried about, we'll pay all your expenses and you'll get a bonus too. Hell, we can buy out your contract.'

  'I'm not thinking of money. You're really going to find out what happened to Mark, aren't you?'

  'I am,' I said definitely.

  She thought for a moment, then sat back and looked determined.

  'Then I'll come. Mark was the only man I've ever loved -and I think he loved me, a little. If he was killed I'd like to see his killer caught.'

  'Good girl! Look, why not come over on a cruise ship – do they go from here to Tahiti? Can you find out?'

  'Wait a minute – I'll see if I can find out anything.'

  It was five minutes.

  'There's a smallish cruise ship, the Eastern Sun, coming through here but not for a few weeks. It'll stop at Papeete. I can get a cabin – and I might even get a job for the trip, which would save you cash. But it's a long time off yet.'

  That would suit me. I thought we would be a few days before we could really be sure of leaving, and then might be dredging or searching for several weeks around Minerva Reef, wherever that was. I got the date of the Eastern Sun's arrival in Papeete and promised Paula that we would be there before her, so that she would not be alone. 'I don't want to see you out of pocket, 'I went on. 'I'll pay your fare and expenses. If you get a paid job you can let me have it back. Do you have a bank?'

  She told me and I said, 'I'll transfer enough to your account. I'm grateful, Paula. I'm glad to have you on our team; and you don't have to break your contract.'

  There's more to this than just Mark's death, isn't there?' she said shrewdly.

  'A lot more. I'll tell you about it in Papeete, perhaps after we've found out more still.' A girl like Clare Campbell would have demanded a much greater share of knowledge before committing herself, but Paula seemed accustomed to playing subsidiary roles. As we said goodbye I wondered how in hell Mark could have attracted such widely disparate women, though they had one thing more than their sex in common. Both seemed determined and courageous, and they were both worthy of a better man than Mark in their lives.

  I went back to the hotel slowly, looking at shops and enjoying the exotic street scenes around me. I lunched alone, not finding any of the others in, but presently I saw Clare and her father arriving, and soon after we were joined by Geordie carrying a book. Over cold drinks we got down to business once more.

  The book Geordie had brought from the ship was a copy of Bill Robinson's To The Great Southern Sea. 'Here's the bit. I've looked up the Pilot too, but I left that on board for later. I've been rereading Robinson, knowing that we'd be sailing down this way. He sailed from the Galapagos to Mangareva in his schooner, and here is what he has to say about Minerva. This was published in 1957, not long ago, by the way.'

  He passed the book to Clare, indicating a paragraph. She started to read silently but her father said, 'For God's sake read it aloud so we'll all know what's going on.'

  So Clare read to us:

  'Approaching Mangareva we passed close to Minerva, one of those shoals of doubtful position and uncertain existence known as "vigias". Vigias are the bane of navigators, for one is never sure where they are, or if they are there at all. According to the Sailing Directions, which neglect to state how she got her name, there seems to be no doubt about Minerva's authenticity. A ship named the Sir George Grey was assumed lost there in 1865, although the British Navy failed to locate a reef there a few years later. In 1 the German bark Erato saw the shoal. It was again seen breaking heavily in 1920 ten miles from the position reported by the Erato. To my great disappointment, the maraamu spoiled our chances of looking for Minerva. For although the wind had gone down to a fresh breeze and we arrived at the vicinity at midday, there was still a big sea running, which broke in an unruly fashion. It was impossible to distinguish breakers caused by a shoal from those left in the wake of the maraamu. We steered a course that took us ten miles to the north of the northernmost reported position of the errant shoal, kept a vigilant look-out, but saw nothing.'

  Clare stopped reading and Campbell said, 'Well, I'm damned. Do you mean to tell me that while spacemen are whirling round in orbit and we're on the verge of going to other planets that there's a piddling little shoal like this that hasn't been located?'

  'That's right,' said Geordie. 'There are lots of them.'

  'It's disgusting,' said Campbell, more accustomed to precise locations on land. 'But if Mark found it we can find it.'

  'If he did. I doubt it,' I said. 'If an IGY survey ship had found Minerva they'd have reported it, and they didn't. But it doesn't mean they didn't dredge around there,' I added hastily into three disappointed faces. 'You heard what Robinson said about it. You'd probably only be
able to see it in a flat calm, with the tides right.'

  'Robinson took damn good care to steer well clear of it,' snorted Campbell. 'Ten miles north of its reported position, indeed.'

  'He was a wise man and a good seaman,' said Geordie. 'He didn't want to lose his ship. It might be a shifting shoal and if you can't see where it is it's a good idea to keep clear of it. I'll do the same, believe me.'

  Once again they all looked at me – the reluctant expert.

  'The conditions I'm thinking of are possible,' I said. 'We have to make a start somewhere, and it would be fun to find it, if we can. Why not?'

  One more thing happened before we left Panama. Kane came to see me.

  We had ostensibly treated him as just one of the crew, and he'd done his work well and was not a bad seaman. But Geordie had only agreed to take him as far as Panama and now we were waiting to see what his next step would be.

  He came down to my cabin one morning and said, 'Mr Trevelyan, could I have a word?'

  'Come in. Hie looked fit again. Without trying to show it, I had kept clear of him on the voyage, finding it intolerably creepy to have the possible murderer of Mark underfoot, but I couldn't avoid some contacts and this was one I had almost been hoping for.

  'What is it?'

  'You're carrying on this research stuff, aren't you?'

  'That's right. As you know, we're leaving in a day's time.'

  'There was a message waiting for me here in Panama from my partner, Jim Hadley. Jim's down in New Guinea and he says he can't come up this way for a while. Now, I know you only promised to bring me as far as here, and I'm grateful, my word I am. But I wondered if I could stick with her a bit longer – you'll need a man in my berth, anyway. Maybe you'll be putting in some place that's nearer for Jim – Tahiti, maybe? That 'ud suit us both.'

  I said, 'I don't see a problem. You're welcome to stay on as far as I'm concerned, if it's all right with the skipper.'

  'Gee, thanks, Mr Trevelyan. I know I keep asking favours and you help out every time.'

  There's no favour. We will need a man – you work well and you earn your keep. But it's up to Mr Wilkins, mind.'

  'Too right. I'll check with him. Thanks again.'

  I passed the word to Geordie to accept the expected offer, and told Campbell about it. 'Right, we'll keep him under our thumb,' he said. 'Not much chance of him knowing where we're going if we don't know, and he can't pass the word on from out there.'

  So friend Kane stayed on with us. And the next day we sailed on a voyage of uncertain duration to an unknown destination which might, or might not, exist.

  Chapter Four

  According to local knowledge the Recife de Minerve was nothing but a legend, and not an uncommon one at that. The – Pilot's preface on vigias showed that there were probably masses of them around, but certainly it said that in 1880 HMS Alert had searched the area in which it was said to lie, without any success. And she wasn't the only one – several ships had looked for it, some had found it- but it was never quite in the same spot twice.

  We left Panama and made good time at first but in a day or so found ourselves becalmed in a sea of glass. We stuck it for twenty-four hours and then went ahead under power. Campbell didn't like cliches about painted ships on painted oceans, especially after I told him another legend concerning the ship that had floated in the Gulf of Panama for forty years until she rotted and fell apart.

  Using the engines was a pity because there would be so much less fuel for station-keeping and dredging, but in Campbell's view time was as precious as fuel, and I couldn't disagree with him. I had Paula to think of. Campbell had sent a spate of cables to his ferrets, advising them that they must keep their eyes on the movements of Suarez-Navarro's ship, and once we were at sea he became nervous. I think he was unused to being cut off from the telephone. He haunted the radio, but though he needed news he half didn't want to get it, and he certainly didn't want to answer. We had a powerful radio telephone that he had insisted on installing; it was an electronic shout that could cover the Pacific. But he didn't want us to use it for fear the Suarez-Navarro would monitor the broadcasts.

  News did finally come that they had dropped anchor in Port Moresby, in Papua, and, as in Darwin, were sitting tight and doing nothing. Campbell was as worried by their inactivity as he would have been if they had been constantly on the move.

  We all felt better when Esmerelda surged forward under the impact of her engine. She forged through the placid seas at a steady nine knots to where we would catch the southeast trade wind and find perfect sailing weather. It wasn't long before we picked up a southerly wind and we headed south-west under fore-and-aft sails only, Esmerelda heeling until the foaming sea lapped at the lee rail. As the days went by the wind shifted easterly until the day came when we knew we were in the true trade winds. We hoisted the big square sails on the foremast and Esmerelda picked up her heels.

  These were Kane's home waters and, while we didn't depend on him, he was free with his advice on weather conditions to be expected. 'A bit further on we'll get revolving storms, 'he said. 'Not to worry – they're not very big – but my word they're fast. On you like a flash, so you've got to keep your eyes peeled.'

  Campbell turned out to be a poor sailor and spent a great deal of time on his bunk regretting that ships were ever invented. It was unusual for him not to be the master of the situation, and he said he felt like a spare wheel on deck, surrounded by men who were doing all sorts of mysterious things fast and well without his guidance. He must have been hell to his mining engineers on land.

  Clare, on the other hand, was a good sailor. She worked hard on deck, wearing the battered sailing gear she had promised us and a healthy tan, and was greatly appreciated by all the crew, who had found her an unexpected bonus on this leg of the voyage. She did help cook and kept watch like the rest of us, but she also absorbed the books in our small library like blotting paper, becoming especially interested in Geordie's collection of small boat voyages, many of which dealt with the Pacific.

  One evening she and I talked together and I got another look at my brother, through Clare's eyes.

  It was one of those incredible nights you find in the tropics. There was a waning moon and the stars sparkled like a handful of diamonds cast across the sky. The wind sang in the rigging and the water talked and chuckled to Esmerelda, and a white-foamed wake with patches of phosphorescence stretched astern.

  I was standing in the bows when Clare joined me. She looked across the sea-path of the moon and said, 'I wish this voyage would go on forever.'

  'It won't. There's a limit even to the size of the Pacific.'

  'When will we get to Minerva?'

  'Perhaps never- we've got to find it first. But we'll be in the vicinity in a week if the weather keeps up.'

  'I hope we were right about that drawing,' she said. 'Sometimes I wish I hadn't tried interpreting them. What if we're wrong?'

  'We'll just have to think of something else. Figuring out Mark's mental processes was never an easy job at the best of times.'

  She smiled. 'I know.'

  'How well did you know Mark?'

  'Sometimes I thought I knew him pretty well,' she said. 'In the end I found I didn't know him at all.' She paused. 'Pop doesn't think much of what you've said about Mark – about his honesty, I mean. Pop thought well of him – mostly.'

  I said, 'Mark had many faces. He was working for your father and he wanted something out of him so he showed his cleanest, brightest face. Your father never really knew Mark.'

  'I know. Speaking figuratively and with due respect to your mother, Mark was a thorough-going bastard.'

  I was startled and at the same time unsurprised. 'What happened?'

  She said reflectively. 'I was a bit bitchy the other night and then you pulled me up with a jerk when you called that singer "just another of Mark's popsies". You see, I suppose I could be regarded as "just another of Mark's popsies". It was the usual thing. It must happen a thousand t
imes a day somewhere in the world, but when it happens to you it hurts. I went overboard for Mark. I was all wrapped up in rosy dreams – he was so damned attractive.'

  'When he wanted to be. He could switch the charm on and off like a light.'

  'He let it happen, damn him,' she said. 'He could have stopped it at any time, but the devil let it happen. I was hearing the distant chimes of wedding bells when I discovered he was already married – maybe not happily – but married.'

  I said gently, 'He was using you too, to get at your father. It's not surprising behaviour from Mark.'

  'I know that now. I wish to God I'd known it then. Mark and I had a lot of fun in those days, and I thought it was going to go on forever. Do you remember?'

  'Meeting you in Vancouver? Oh yes.'

  'I wondered then, why you didn't seem to get on. You seemed so cold. I thought you were the rotter, and he said things…'

  'Never mind all that. What happened?'

  She shrugged. 'Nothing – nothing at all. And I found out at about the same time that Pop was having his troubles with Suarez-Navarro, so I didn't tell him, or anyone – though I think he guessed something. Have you noticed that he only praises Mark as a scientist, not as a person?'

  'And then Mark vanished.'

  'That's right. He'd gone and I never saw him again.' She looked ahead over the bows. 'And now he's dead – his body lies somewhere out there – but he's still pushing people around. We're all being pushed around by Mark, even now-do you know that? You and me, Pop and the Suarez-Navarro crowd, your friend Geordie and all your commando pals – all being manipulated by a dead man with a long arm.'

  Take it easy,' I said. She sounded terribly bitter. 'Mark's not pushing anyone. We all know what we're doing, and we're doing it because we want to. Mark is dead and that's an end to him.'

  It was time to change the subject. I used the standard approach.

  Tell me about yourself, Clare. What do you do? When did your mother die?'

  'When I was six.'

  'Who brought you up? Your father was away a lot, wasn't he?'