I could have misunderstood the warning. He could have been trying to warn me against the lighter, instead of against the person who carried it.
In any case, I’d made my choice. I was putting my money on the woman on the ground. I was gambling that she was exactly what she’d said: Isobel Marner, from Frisco, Cal., although they don’t like that name up there. I was betting on her screwball streak, and on the guts she’d displayed in the Pailolo Channel.
I was also gambling, of course, that she wasn’t so badly hurt she’d go and die on me after all. Actually, I told myself, the amount of blood I’d seen could be considered a good sign rather than a bad one. They don’t generally bleed like that when they’re shot through the lungs or heart. Most often, in such cases, the hemorrhage stays internal and all you see outside is a small, red-rimmed hole. Copious bleeding there indicated a flesh wound, a nasty, open bullet furrow along the ribs, perhaps, very painful and messy but seldom fatal.
I was betting my life, and perhaps a lot of other people’s lives—depending on what Monk had in mind—that she was not too badly injured to be listening now, and that she’d be strong enough and smart enough and brave enough to understand my instructions and follow them. It was a lot to ask of a sheltered woman, inexperienced in violence, and badly hurt. It was a lot to ask of anybody, but I had to give it a try.
Of course, I would have preferred to rush over and bandage her tenderly and load her into the boat and get her to a doctor—but then, I’d also have preferred to be somewhere far away, taking the vacation that was coming to me. My preferences were strictly irrelevant. If Isobel could play possum well enough and listen hard enough, she could be useful; if not, I’d have to do my job without her help. In neither case was I here to make like Florence Nightingale: she’d have to patch up her own damn holes. I was leaving her my shirt to do it with. Our jungle idyll was over and it was time to go to work.
I said to Jill, “Okay, kid. Give it to me fast. What have you learned? First of all, where’s K?”
“It’s over there about five miles,” she said, pointing. “Down the coast to the west. Not the next bay but the one after that. It would be easy enough in a boat, but it’s kind of a rough trip overland, everything from gooey swamps and jungle to sharp lava rocks. Well, look at me! Matt, I—”
“You say Monk knows I’m here. What’s he doing about it?”
“Nothing, at the moment. They’re all busy working on the boat. He figures, with the woman to watch you, and her transmitter to show when you change position, you’ll keep until he’s got a couple of men free to go after you. Of course, once he learns I’m missing…”
“That’s the next question,” I said. “Just why the hell are you missing? I told you to get to K and stay put. I told you I’d find you.”
“But I had to warn you!” she protested. “I had to let you know you were walking into a trap, with a traitor at your back. Didn’t I? Matt…”
I said, “Maybe I wanted to walk into a trap. Maybe that’s why I sent you on ahead, so you’d be there to get me out of it. Next time, Jill, just follow instructions and don’t worry so damn much about other people’s safety. Little angels of mercy we can do very well without.”
Her eyes flashed angrily, but her voice was humble. “Yes, Matt. I’m sorry if I made a mistake. I thought it was the thing to do.”
So I knew she was a phony—a lovely, hypocritical phony—and not just an innocent girl being used as a patsy in some clever Monkish way. Well, she’d always been kind of a question mark; I’d even commented to Mac about the inconsistency of a girl who looked like a tall young goddess and acted like a small white mouse.
It remained to be seen whether she was a truly sinister and complex person, much more deeply involved in Monk’s intrigues than anyone could have guessed, or whether she’d simply been caught, exposed, and frightened into changing sides. There are a good many threats that can be used against a pretty girl, particularly one with no great reputation for courage, and Monk would know them all.
“Well, we’ll just have to refigure the program,” I said easily. “Can you lead me there in such a way that we’re not spotted? Or maybe you can just tell me how to find the place and get past the guards—I suppose he does have guards out.”
Jill hesitated. “I’d better guide you. I can save you some time and a lot of nasty climbing and wading, and I know where Monk’s men are posted. Matt—”
“And now for the big question,” I said. “What’s he up to? Have you been able to learn that?”
“Of course I have!” she said quickly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Matt, it’s horrible. It’s the General Hughes!”
“The what?”
“The Hughes. The General Herman Hughes. The transport, Matt. The troop transport!”
I looked at her for a moment, but I was thinking of the boys with the dog tags I’d seen on the beach. They hadn’t impressed me too favorably. In my book, punks who lounge around making audible comments about strangers should have their tails kicked up between their ears, in the armed forces or out. Nevertheless, I didn’t particularly want anything more drastic to happen to them. Hell, there might even be a nice, quiet, respectful young fellow in the lot, and we couldn’t risk losing such a rare specimen.
“I see,” I said softly. “I see. I presume he’s going to sink it?” She nodded. I asked, “How? No, don’t tell me. It’s the Monk, so he’ll blow it up dramatically. Lots of noise and smoke and flame. He likes big bangs. Particularly big bangs with people inside them.”
Jill nodded again. “Yes, of course. The explosives have already been planted on the ship.”
“Where? I mean, is he using limpet mines of some kind stuck to the outside of the hull, or did they smuggle the stuff aboard somehow?”
“I… I don’t know where it is. I just know that end of the job has been taken care of to everybody’s satisfaction.”
“Okay,” I said. “Now, how’s he planning to detonate, with a timing device or something? No, it wouldn’t be that, not with the Monk. He likes to push his own buttons and see them blow. How has he got it rigged?”
“I don’t know the technical details, Matt, but it’s a radio-type gadget in one of the boats. The bigger one, the inboard-outboard. They’re fixing it up for the skis now. That’s how I got to K. He needed somebody to ride them, somebody who… who’d look good in a bikini.”
I looked at her sharply. “You’re going a little too fast for me. Skis?”
“Yes. Water skis. Don’t you see? Who’ll suspect a speedboat towing a… a pretty girl with long blonde hair, on water skis? Why, the boys will line the rails and whistle and hoot and throw down the leis the girls gave them in town, as we come alongside. And then… and then, after we’ve swung off to a safe distance, Monk will push the button…” We didn’t say anything for a little. I didn’t look toward the coat-covered shape by the rock. Presently Jill went on dully, “They made it easy for him, docking in Honolulu instead of Pearl Harbor. They leave early tomorrow morning, and tomorrow’s Saturday. That means the Lurline will be coming in. That means the whole ocean will be full of boats anyway, waiting to greet the liner. One more won’t attract any attention at all. Even after the explosion, Monk figures, we won’t be noticed particularly. Everybody’ll be watching the Hughes.”
“What happens then?”
“We just slip away in the confusion and rendezvous somewhere—I don’t know where—with the other boat, the one with no incriminating gadgets on board. We’ll switch boats and head out to meet a getaway ship. I haven’t learned the details of that. Monk said leave it all to him. He… he thinks I’m in love with him. He thinks I’m doing it all, not only for my political beliefs, but because I want to go away with him. I… I had to let him think that.” She was blushing a little. I wasn’t as impressed as I might have been if I hadn’t seen her instant blush before.
I said, “And what about his political beliefs? Just why is he doing all this?”
&nbs
p; “Isn’t it obvious? To protest against the war, of course. And to keep all those troops from getting there to fight.”
I said, “It doesn’t sound like the Monk to me. He never impressed me as the peaceful type. Of course he may have got soft in his old age, but what about this lady from Moscow? I can see how the Peking bunch got into the act, if he needed technical assistance, although the Monk I used to know wouldn’t have needed anybody’s help with explosives and detonators. But what’s a Russki agent doing here? You did say she was Moscow, didn’t you?”
“Yes, of course, but I don’t know what her function is. Does it matter? Those communists all work together, don’t they?”
I laughed. “Don’t bet your life on it. Well, if you don’t know, you don’t know.” I frowned. “This changes things a bit. We’ve got to get word to Honolulu somehow. There’s a boat hidden over there in the reeds; that’s your baby. First give me directions to K. I’ll do what I can there. But you take that boat and hide it somewhere else until dark, so it won’t be found when Monk’s men come prowling around. Then you put to sea and steer west towards Kalaupapa, the leper colony. It shouldn’t be more than a two or three hours’ run downwind, if the trades blow as hard as they did last night. There’s a lighthouse at the end of the Kalaupapa peninsula, according to the chart. You can home in on that. Swing around it and land on the leeward side of the peninsula. That seems to be where most of the installations are. They’ll have communications equipment available. Make sure the word gets to Honolulu right away. That ship mustn’t sail tomorrow. Okay?”
I spoke as loudly and clearly as I could without arousing Jill’s suspicion. I was careful not to look toward Isobel. There was no sign of life under my coat and shirt. I wondered if I’d misinterpreted the faint stirring I’d felt.
Well, either she was alive or she wasn’t. Either she’d heard or she hadn’t. Either she’d get word to Kalaupapa or she wouldn’t. I couldn’t do it. If I put to sea now, the lookouts would spot me from K, just down the coast, and the speedboats would run me down within a mile. If I tried to cross the mountains to the south on foot, I might take days trying to find my way through the jungles and up the spectacular precipices this volcanic geology seemed to favor. We didn’t have that much time.
And if I just waited for darkness, the Monk would come after me long before I could slip away unseen. My best bet was to keep him away from this place by going to him. That gave Isobel an escape, if she was strong enough to use it; and it might put me in a position for some judicious sabotage, if I was smart enough to take advantage of it. Of course, I had to get Jill away from here, too, but I didn’t think she was going to make it hard for me, and she didn’t.
She said, hesitantly, “Well, all right, Matt, but—”
“But what?”
“There’s a lot of time before dark. At least let me guide you part way, far enough that I can point out to you… Let me feel I haven’t altogether fallen down on this job. Then I’ll come back and take care of the boat.”
I shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you say. Just so you’ve got the directions clear. Straight downwind to Kalaupapa as soon as it’s dark…”
There were, of course, no goodbyes. I didn’t even glance back; I just followed the girl away from the quiet jungle pool, out of the thick stuff, and up over the lava rocks of the promontory to the west. It was a healthy climb and the day was bright and warm; I was glad I’d started this job with a pretty good tan or I’d have been well cooked without my shirt. We were both perspiring freely by the time we got far enough around the point to see into the next bay.
It was a little larger than the one we’d left, the valley above it was wider, and the inlet looked deeper. There was no sparkling fall of water down the mountains behind it. It wasn’t quite the Garden of Eden that Isobel and I had found, but then, this was no longer dawn and a lot of things had happened and Paradise was a long way off.
I could see no sign of human life ahead as I followed Jill around the point until the harsh black rocks gave way to tropical vegetation again. Here she stopped and turned to face me.
“It’s just over that next ridge,” she said, pointing. “You’ll have to cross at the high saddle, there. A man is standing watch just below. You’ll be able to make out the others, one on the next point, and one up on a kind of cliff behind the camp. If you cut well back, crossing this valley, you won’t have as much trouble with the swampy stuff as I did.” She grinned. “Luckily, there are no water snakes on Hawaii, or any other snakes, for that matter. You don’t have to worry about that.”
I regarded her for a moment. You never quite know if you’re right, of course. It’s always a throw of the dice, a flip of the coin. She was a very attractive young lady, even in her dirty boy’s clothes. She stuck out her hand abruptly.
“I… I’d better get back and hide that boat, Matt.”
“Sure.” We shook hands. “Have a good sail, kid.”
“I’ll send some help. Right away.”
I shook my head. “Better wait till you’re sure the ship is safe, before you let them disturb things around here. I may be able to jimmy the works somehow, but not if they come charging up clumsily and spook him. We don’t want to take any chance of both the detonator boat and the ship getting loose on the same ocean. Your job is the ship. I take the speedboat if I can. Make sure your job is done this time, before you worry about mine. Or me. Okay?”
She took this pompous lecture without resentment. “Yes, of course. I understand… Matt?”
“What is it?”
“You don’t think… you don’t think I’ve done too badly, do you?”
She was really very good, or I was very wrong. I grinned, and took her shiny face in my hands, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. I felt her arms go around me impulsively, and she turned her face up for a real kiss, and got it. Then the gun was gone from my belt, and she’d jumped back, aiming it at me.
“It’s all right, Monk,” she called. “I have his gun. Come and get him, darling.”
I raised my hands cautiously, regarding the weapon as if I had a great deal of respect for it. Well, I’d been trying to peddle that damn castrated pistol for days. It was about time I found a taker, even though I couldn’t see just how it was going to help me now.
24
They were hiding in the rocks: Monk and two dark-faced men in nondescript Hawaiian-type clothes, each carrying an old M-1 carbine, that bastard cross between a pistol and a rifle that I’ve never had any use for. However, there’s no denying that under suitable conditions it will kill a man very dead.
Monk was wearing a natty khaki outfit with a short-sleeved, open-necked shirt. It looked like the latest summer uniform adopted by the armed forces, the one that makes even a four-star general look like a Boy Scout. It occurred to me that there had always been something faintly resembling an offbeat scoutmaster about the Monk. Well, the handicraft projects were different, but the burning enthusiasm was the same.
Now his blue eyes looked bright and idealistic in his sunburned, ascetic face, as he climbed down to cover me with another one of those rustless belly-guns he seemed to have got a bushel of somewhere. His helpers took my little knife and my belt, and searched me for other weapons, and found none because there were none to find.
“The same old Eric,” Monk said, relaxing. “Fast with the hands, fast with the weapons, fast with the women, and very slow with the brains.”
“The same old Monk,” I said. “Always trying to talk people to death. If words could kill, amigo, you’d be the greatest in the business.”
That got to him, because of course he did think he was the greatest in the business. Well, who doesn’t? Nobody’d stay in it if he didn’t feel he was, in his own peculiar way, the greatest, or would be with a little more practice. We’re all the greatest. The difference was that Monk could never take any kidding about it.
His eyes narrowed and he started to answer sharply, but changed his mind. Instead he just jerked his head for
the two men to take me on down the path, such as it was. Jill stepped forward.
“Just a minute,” she said. “I have a score to settle with this man.”
Monk said irritably, “To hell with your scores, Irina. Feed your damn pride on your own damn time.”
“You would not have captured him so easily without me,” the girl said. “You can indulge me a little, darling. It will only take a moment.” She had deliberately allowed her voice to change and become slightly foreign, and her face had changed. She was no longer the pretty, leggy, lighthearted American miss I’d been allowed to admire on the beach at Waikiki a few mornings before. She wanted me to know it. She wanted me to appreciate the skill with which she’d deceived me. Temperament we’ve got lots of in the trade.
She stood in front of me. “Mr. Helm.”
I said, “So you’re Irina, from Moscow.”
She moved her shoulders briefly. “From there and elsewhere.”
“I don’t suppose Francis and the rest of the boys knew that.”
“Those pacifist fools! They were sheep and easy to lead.”
“Right into Mister Monk’s slaughterhouse.”
“Of course. Regularly enlisted as American agents, Mr. Helm. Don’t forget that. Their records of protest will be remembered after tomorrow, as well as their official status. So will yours. You undoubtedly thought you were being clever, pretending to be of somewhat the same persuasion; you thought it might lead them to confide in you, did you not? And maybe it did, but nevertheless you played right into our hands. It is also on the record. And after you are found dead on the boat—the curiously equipped boat that will soon attract a great deal of attention—what do you think people will say about you, a man known to have been disciplined for speaking out against the war in Asia?”
The Betrayers Page 17