Night Of Error

by Desmond Bagley

  But it turned out that Piro could not write, nor even sign his name, which was a pity – I wanted a witnessed account of the event to take back, but with Schouten dead there was nobody else to turn to for it.

  We buried the dead in the hospital cemetery. I asked about a priest but apparently Schouten had stood in himself for such occasions. They produced a Bible and Campbell pronounced a few words, though few of the locals could understand him. He said, 'We commit to the earth the bodies of those who are the innocent victims of a dreadful crime. "Vengeance is mine", saith the Lord, but it may be He will use men like us as His instrument. I hope so.'

  Then he turned and walked away down the beach, a sad and lonely figure.

  Schouten was given a grave in a place apart from the others.

  I thought this might be because of differing religions, but it appeared that they wished to make his resting-place special, and it was clear that they mourned him deeply. I thought that he would have a better memorial than he might ever have realized would be his lot, and was glad of it.

  The islanders were already clearing away rubble, and most of the patients had vanished into other homes, when we left that afternoon. There was nothing we could find to take with us as proof of the disaster – the hospital records and all Schouten's personal belongings had been destroyed. We took photographs, though, and I included a couple of the natives gathering round Campbell and Ian to shake their hands, as proof of our friendship, and also of the crew at the mass funeral.

  As Ian conned Esmerelda out through the pass of Tanakabu he asked sadly, 'What kind of men are they to do a thing like that? You told us they were dangerous – they seem demented, Mike.'

  'They must be psychopaths,' I said. 'From what I learned from the Dutch doctor Hadley certainly is.'

  Shorty Powell came on deck, white-faced, at the same time that Campbell emerged looking thunderous. 'I've got something to show you,' he said, and took me down to Kane's cabin together with Ian. On the bunk lay a brown-painted gadget which Shorty had clearly recognised and shown to Campbell.

  'It's a walkie-talkie, surplus American army stock, selling for about fifteen dollars each. The range on land isn't much over five miles but on water you can keep contact for?'

  'Say about ten miles,' Shorty supplied.

  'So that's how Hadley's schooner turned up so opportunely. And that's what that damned transmission was that Shorty picked up. You said you thought it was a low-powered job and very near, but who'd have thought it was from right here on Esmerelda?' Campbell nodded. 'We've probably been shadowed all over the Pacific. Any boat could keep hull-down on the horizon and Hadley could have cosy chats with Kane.'

  I picked up the radio and looked at it curiously. 'I don't think Kane was clever enough to think of this himself. This bears the hallmark of organization.'

  'Ramirez,' said Campbell decisively.

  'Very likely,' I said. I was trying to read any further implications into the find when Paula came looking for me and Ian got back up on deck. 'Geordie's asking for you,' she said. She too looked tired, having spent all morning helping Clare on that dreadful beach, and I smiled and gave her a quick hug of friendship and support.

  'How is he?'

  'He'll be all right, but he's going to need medical care in Papeete, maybe stitches. I'm not a trained nurse, you know.' Considering the dangers we had drawn her into and the shocking things she had seen, I thought she was holding up amazingly well, but then I think toughness was bred into her.

  'He may be scarred for life,' she added.

  'A pistol whipping is a lousy thing. Damn Hadley!' said Campbell.

  We found Geordie sitting up in his bunk, his eyes peering brightly at me through a mass of bandages. He'd been told about the fire and the smashed radio, but was avid for more.

  'How are you feeling?' I asked him.

  'Not so bad, considering. But I haven't heard the whole story yet. What happened last night between you and the doctor?' he demanded, and I realized with a start that so much had happened since that I hadn't had time to pass on Schouten's terrible story. Having made sure that he was well enough to listen, I gathered Paula, Clare and Campbell into the cabin. They heard me out in stunned silence.

  'It's a bad thing,' I said heavily at the end.

  'It is that,' said Geordie. They must be off their heads.'

  I said, 'I don't think Kane's the crazy one. It's Hadley who's the lunatic, a psycho for sure. Kane's cleverer than we thought him to be, though.' I told Geordie about the walkie-talkie.

  Campbell said, 'We've been played for suckers and I don't like that one little bit. But with this act I think they've outreached themselves – I have a feeling that Hadley ran amok, and even Ramirez isn't going to like it when he finds out.'

  'I've been thinking, trying to put the jigsaw together, you might say,' said Geordie. 'But some of the pieces don't seem to fit.'

  'Such as?'

  'For one thing, you say that according to Schouten, Kane and Hadley murdered Mark, and that Ramirez was in on it. Why do you think they killed Mark?'

  I said, 'I've been thinking about that. It was something that poor old Schouten said – that Hadley had laughed when he asked to see the body and said it would turn the stomach even of a doctor. What would that mean to you?'

  'Knowing what we do of Hadley, it could mean torture.'

  'And why should they torture Mark?' I should have felt ill at the very thought but somehow it had all become rather academic to me.

  'Why does anyone torture anyone? They wanted information out of him.'

  'And Ramirez was there. I think they wanted to know where the high-cobalt nodules were to be found.'

  'Yes,' said Campbell. 'I've already worked that out for myself. Would Mark tell them?'

  'I don't know. He'd look out for his own skin, but he was capable of being very scornful of people like them – he may not have realized that they really meant it until they got down to business, and then it might have been too late.'

  The girls studied me in silence, appalled at my implication. But Geordie put it into words. 'You mean Hadley ran amok again and went too far – and he died before he could talk?'

  'I think so. They clearly don't know the location, or they wouldn't be tailing us this way. So they buried their mistake, terrorized the doctor, and sent Hadley to get Mark's stuff, hoping for leads there. Hadley bungled it and let the gear slip out of his fingers – thanks to you, Paula – and so Ramirez went to England to get it back, using Kane as scout and contact man.'

  'It all seems to fit,' Geordie said.

  He lay back on his bunk looking suddenly exhausted, so we left him. We didn't talk about it among ourselves. We were all drained and saddened, and the trip back to Papeete was one devoid of much pleasure for any of us.

  We made a quick passage and all went well until we were within about two hours of Papeete, and longing to be ashore. I planned to take Ian, Campbell and one or two members of the crew to the police as soon as we landed, leaving the others to guard the ship, especially Geordie and the girls, zealously. We had no idea where the Pearl might be but I wanted to run no risks. I was in my cabin when word came down for me to get on deck fast. Ian, who was acting skipper, pointed to a boat on our starboard beam. It was a fast launch and was cruising around us in a wide circle. 'Yon laddie's come up awful fast, Mike,' he said to me. 'He's up to something. He looks official.'

  He handed me binoculars and I saw that it was a patrol boat, naval in style, even to a four-pounder quick-firer mounted on the foredeck. It had a number but no name, and as I looked it turned to approach us directly. 'You'd better call Mr Campbell,' I said.

  The launch came up alongside and kept pace with idling engines about fifty yards away. An officer by the wheelhouse raised a loudhailer and a spate of French crossed the water.

  I raised my arms to shrug violently to indicate that I didn't understand. Another man took the loudhailer and shouted in English, 'Heave to, Esmerelda, or we will fire.'

&
nbsp; I looked at the gun on the foredeck. Two matelots were manning it – one had just slammed a magazine in and the other was swinging the gun around to train it just about midships.

  'What the hell!' I exploded. But one couldn't argue with a four-pounder. I heard Ian giving brisk orders and the sails came tumbling down everywhere as the off-watch crewmen tumbled up on deck, Campbell among them.

  'What the hell's going on?' he asked loudly.

  'We're being boarded by the navy,' I said, 'in the traditional style. If we don't stop they'll open fire – the man said so.'

  Campbell looked at the little gun in fascination. 'Well, I'll be double-damned,' he said. 'Pirates?'

  'Not this close in. It's official.'

  The sails were all down and Esmerelda lost way and started to pitch a little. The patrol boat edged nearer and finally came alongside, lines went across, and an officer jumped on board followed by three sailors. He had a revolver and the sailors were carrying sub-machine guns. Our men backed up, alarmed and disconcerted by all this, and I saw Campbell make a violent if surreptitious gesture to the girls to keep below decks.

  'M. Trevelyan?' the officer barked.

  I stepped forward. 'I'm Michael Trevelyan.'

  A sub-machine gun lifted until the muzzle was pointed at my stomach. 'You are under arrest.'

  I looked at him dumbfoundedly. 'What for?'

  Campbell stepped forward aggressively. 'Now look here' he began. The officer gestured and the other two sailors lifted their weapons and there were ominous snicks as the safety-catches were released. Ian caught at Campbell's shoulder and he subsided.

  The officer said, 'You will learn about it in Papeete. You will please come aboard my boat. You' He turned to Ian. 'You will accompany us in under engine. These men will stay on board with you. You will attempt nothing foolish, please.'

  I looked into his cold grey eyes and realized that he wasn't kidding. I felt a sense of sick reluctance to leave the Esmerelda but there really was no choice, and I swung myself across without a word. I was briefly searched, and then led below to a cabin with a minimum of furnishing – a cell afloat -and once inside I heard the door being locked.

  I was on my own.* 4*

  I was pretty miserable – I didn't know what was going on, nor had I any means of finding out, though I certainly had ideas -too many of them. If only I could have talked to someone I would have felt better, but that was impossible. I wondered how they were all making out.

  We went the remaining few miles into Papeete at a speed slow enough for Esmerelda to keep up, no doubt still under the threat of the gun. There were no portholes in my cabin and I couldn't hear much either, but the arrival at a jetty was unmistakable, and I braced myself for whatever was coming. Sure enough within a few minutes they were at the door, unlocking it, and then I was brought up into the sunshine to see that we were back in Papeete but not in our old position; instead it seemed to be a naval area. I saw Esmerelda tied up alongside us but there were only French sailors on deck, none of my friends to be seen. A police car was waiting for me. My legs felt like lead as I went ashore and got into it.

  There was a police station, possibly the principal one, and I was taken immediately and without any formalities into another cell and left there. It was devastatingly bleak. A good couple of hours passed and then I was let out once more, this time to be escorted to a large business-like office, and to confront an angry-looking, mottle-faced man behind the inevitable desk. I stood in front of it with my escort, and another man behind us at the door. I had already decided on a plan of action, such as it was – I was going to go immediately onto the offensive. To be meek was intolerable to me and also foolish, for it might imply guilt where I certainly felt none. So as soon as the man in front of me began to speak I overrode him.

  'I want to see the British Consul!'

  'Sit down.'

  'No. I answer no questions without the presence of the Consul.'

  He slapped the table with the flat of his hand, and I was jerked back into a chair. I saw a nameplate on his desk which told me that he was one Jacques Chamant, and with a title which I mentally translated as Chief of Police. I was right at the top, it seemed. It had to be pretty bad. And I already had a ghastly suspicion as to what it was.

  'I stand on no ceremony with you, Trevelyan.' Another man with more than passable English. There has been a massacre at Tanakabu which you started – and we will have your head for it.'

  I stared at him, outraged. 'Are you crazy?'

  He leaned his elbows on the desk. 'I have a dossier here on you. You came to Papeete last week and made some very serious accusations against Dr Schouten, on Tanakabu, accusations which would ruin his reputation as a medical man. You were told that someone would take steps to verify your vilifications, but that was not good enough for you. You cleared Papeete with the stated intention of sailing westward, but instead you went to Tanakabu.'

  I listened in silence, in spite of my resolve.

  'You got to Tanakabu and evidently had a quarrel with Schouten – and you murdered him. To cover your tracks you set fire to his house, and the entire hospital caught fire resulting in many deaths. Your crew is implicated in this as well – you are all guilty men.'

  I blinked and sank down in the chair, stunned by the rage in his voice and the whole messy situation. We had made a very fast return trip to Papeete and as far as I knew there were no radio-telephones on Tanakabu, so there was only one way the police could know what had happened. I seized on a couple of things he had said and decided to make the best use of them that I could.

  'Can it be that you don't know exactly how many were killed? Have you had any direct contact with the island?' I asked rapidly. I didn't know how much time I would have before he had me silenced.

  He hesitated and I knew I was on the right track.

  'How did you get the information? Was it a man called Hadley – off a ship called the Pearl?' That went straight to the mark – a bullseye. He coughed, oddly hesitant, and said, 'I do not see that it makes any difference, but you are correct. Mr Hadley described the reign of terror on Tanakabu very circumstantially. He stated that he barely escaped with his own life and that you attempted to run his ship down.'

  Good! I had him on the defensive already. It was I who should be doing the talking, not he. I sensed already the faintest thread of doubt in his voice and pressed on.

  'You say I "evidently" quarrelled with Dr Schouten. What "evidence" is there? I left him after a long talk, none the worse for it. There was a witness to that, an islander called Piro. He drove me from my ship. He will also attest that we came to save the hospital when it was already burning – and so will many others there. You have no right to arrest me. Or any of us!'

  He was listening intently and did not interrupt me. Behind me the policemen stood like statues. I didn't understand why things were going my way but I was feeling stronger by the minute.

  'Why don't you study that file, M. Chamant? You've got it down in black and white – Hadley was the man who is supposed to have found my brother, but whom I say was his murderer – and Schouten told me so. I can't prove that now, but I can prove everything else.'

  I remembered another fact and produced it triumphantly.

  'I took photographs. Develop my film. It will tell you everything.'

  'M. Trevelyan, I am listening carefully. Of course we will check your camera, and we have already sent a police patrol boat to Tanakabu. But you still have a great deal to explain, and you are not yet released from arrest.'

  I said, 'I've got plenty to tell you! That damned bastard and his mate Kane – they're the ones you want. They murdered Sven Norgaard, they murdered my brother, they murdered that poor bloody Schouten and they killed fourteen patients in his hospital – burnt them alive, do you hear – they burnt those poor wretches alive!'

  Chamant was gesturing to the two policemen who heaved on my shoulders. I had lost all restraint in my anger, and was trying to climb over the table in my fren
zy of trying to make Chamant see the truth. I slumped back, shaking a little and fighting for self-control. There was silence for a moment as we all contemplated my words.

  'Where is Hadley now?' I asked him, trying to stay on the offensive.

  He regarded me closely in silence still, then nodded gravely. He gave instructions to one of the men in rapid French, and the officer left the room smartly. Then he looked at me. 'I am not yet ready to believe you. But we will speak again with M. Hadley, I assure you. Meantime, I ask you to explain this, if you can.'

  He pointed to a small box on a side-table and one of the remaining policemen brought it to his desk. Opened, it revealed four guns and a little pile of boxes of ammunition. I recognized two of the guns immediately.

  'Four guns with enough ammunition to start a war, M. Trevelyan. Not a cargo for a peaceful ship, a scientific expedition.'

  'Where did you find them?' But I could guess, and I was troubled. This was going to set back the progress I'd made.

  'Three in the cabin of your M. Campbell. One in the possession of M. Wilkins, your captain.'

  I made a weak gesture. There didn't seem to be much to say.

  'You have seen them before?'

  I said, 'Yes, two of them. Mr Campbell gave me that one when we discovered that Kane had gone from our ship. I must tell you the whole story, in sequence you understand. This other one he had himself. But'

  'But?'

  'Neither of us fired a shot! If you exhume Schouten you'll see he was shot three times, I think.'

  'Only the other two were fired.'

  'Yes, on our ship – when Hadley was getting away. We did try to ram him, to stop him – to bring him to justice.' That phrase sounded melodramatic enough even for a Frenchman to gag on it, I thought.

  'You will tell me the story.'

  So I did, leaving out all references to our search for manganese nodules, to Ramirez and Suarez-Navarro. I thought that made it all far too complicated. I said only that Hadley, once chartering a boat for my brother and Norgaard, had quarrelled with them for reasons unknown, had murdered both of them and had implicated the Dutch doctor in his crime. I had come to seek the truth and had run into a hornet's nest. It was circumstantial and very tidy. He made notes from time to time but said little.