Rick Brant 6 The Phantom Shark

by John Blaine

  “Ever hear of the Phantom Shark?” Scotty inquired,

  The two men looked at each other, each waiting for the other to answer.

  “Can’t say I have,” Kenwood said. “You, Van?”

  “Not I,” Van der Klaffens replied. “Is this Phantom Shark a real one?”

  “We don’t know,” Rick said. He remembered old Barthelemi’s frightened eyes as he warned them, and he refrained from mentioning the old man’s name.

  “It’s just a name we heard,” Scotty explained. “Mr. Kenwood, I should think trading around the islands would be a lot of fun.”

  The Australian grinned.“Used to be. When I was a younker, I thought it was real derring-do to sail the islands. The abos were still takin ’ heads then. But it’s old stuff to me now. And sometimes it’s a fair cow.”

  Scotty saw Barby’s bewildered look. “ Abois Australian for aborigine,” he told her. “It’s what they call the natives. Fair cow is Aussie slang for pretty punk.” To Kenwood, he said, “I suppose it takes a few weeks to make the round trip.”

  “Yes. I usually leave here, go right up through theHebrides and the Solomons as far as Rabaul . That’s on the tip ofNew Britain . Then, if business hasn’t been too good, I sometimes go as far up as the Admiralties. About twice a year I go across toBrisbane to pick up trade goods and drop off some of the choice stuff I’ve picked up. Too bad you can’t make the trip with me. I’m leaving at dawn tomorrow.”

  “When did you get in?” Van der Klaffens asked. “You weren’t here when I went up toSuva .”

  “Got in four days ago.I don’t stay long. Just offload my cargo, pick up new goods, and start back again.”

  Lunch over, the group separated. Rick, Barby, and Scotty returned to the hotel. Van der Klaffens and Kenwood went their own ways.

  Page 15

  At the hotel, Rick wondered aloud, “Any good swimming beaches near here?”

  “But yes!” the proprietor said. “Out at Anse Vata , only a short way from here, is one of the best beaches in the Pacific. You enjoy the swim? Henri can take you. I will send for him.”

  “It’s a little soon after lunch, but I guess we can loaf on the beach for a while,” Scotty said.

  “Good. I will bring you fresh towels to take to the beach with you.”

  As they went upstairs, the proprietor bustled off. He rapped on the door while Rick and Scotty were undressing.

  Rick opened the door. “Come in. Thanks very much for the towels.”

  “You undress here?”

  “Putting on our suits under our clothes,” Rick explained.

  “Ah. American system, I think.”

  “Strictly American,” Scotty said, smiling. “Incidentally, have you ever heard of anything called the Phantom Shark?”

  The man’s reaction was astonishing. He turned white, crossed himself, then cast a quick look at the door as though afraid someone might be listening. “Monsieur,” he whispered, “havethe favor not to mention that name in my establishment. Ma foil Have you no fear?”

  Rick’s eyes widened.“Fear?Of what?”

  “Of ... of what you said.Name of a dog! If you have no consideration for your own hides, think of mine.

  I have a family, monsieur!”

  “But what are you afraid of?” Scotty demanded. “Is it a man?”

  The proprietor bowed. “If you need anything else, please call me. Henri is waiting downstairs.” He hurried away.

  Rick and Scotty finished dressing and went downstairs, very thoughtful. By unspoken agreement, they said nothing to Barby of the proprietor’s reaction to the name. Then, in the sheer joy of swimming in the clear water, they forgot the whole affair. They alternately swam and toasted on the beach, collected sea shells, and explored outcroppings of coral.

  After the long afternoon in the sun and salt air, they were glad to eat a light dinner at a near-by restaurant and turn in. Barby went up to her room. Scotty and Rick delayed in the lobby long enough to ask the proprietor to wake them early, because the Tarpon was expected in and they wanted to be at the dock to meet her.

  The man nodded. He seemed to have overcome his fears. “I will send up breakfast from my own kitchen.”

  Page 16

  As they thanked him and started up the stairs, Kenwood came into the hotel.

  “Halloo,” he greeted them. “You stayinghere? So’m I.” He walked up the stairs with them. Then, at their door, he scratched his head thoughtfully. “Invite me in and I’ll tell you something.”

  “Sure,” Rick agreed. “Come on in.”

  The lanky Australian trader took a seat on one of the twin beds.“About thisnoon. Remember you asked about the Phantom Shark?”

  Scotty stopped in the act of stripping off his shirt. “You mean you know something?”

  “Not much, but enough to know it’s no folk tale. Before the war, when Rabaul was the pearl center for this part of the world, the Chinese pearl buyers used to whisper about a bloke who would appear, always in the dead of night, with the best pearls they had ever seen. No one ever saw his face. He used to identify himself with a shark’s tooth, mixed in with the pearls. And when the Chinese buyers saw that, they knew that they had better pay up and at top price, even if it meant no profit.”

  “Suppose they didn’t?” Rick asked.

  “Some didn’t, at first. They were found with their throats cut. With a knife made of shark’s teeth. Ever see one?Ruddy awful. Can’t miss the marks it leaves.”

  “Where did the pearls come from?” Scotty inquired.

  “That’s another thing. Down through the islands there were wild yarns about a huge silver shark. He would park on the bottom until some poor Kanaka boy found a good one, then up he’d come and upset the canoe. If the boy was lucky, he got away with his life.But not his pearl. If he wasn’t lucky, they’d find his body later, with the mark of the Phantom Shark on it.”

  “Do you believe any of it?” Rick asked curiously.

  Kenwood shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had no evidence, and the idea of a shark lyin ’ in wait until someone finds a pearl sounds like a fairy tale. But in my time I’ve found that ‘ neathall the smoke may be a bit of fire.” He rose and walked to the door.“Didn’t want to mention it in front of Van. For all his years in the islands, he’s no believer in tales. I didn’t want to be laughed at.”

  Rick and Scotty walked to the door with him.

  “Thanks for the story, Mr. Kenwood,” Rick said. “You said you heard all this before the war.Nothing since?”

  “Nothing since.”

  Scotty rubbed his chin. “But if this Phantom Shark does exist, why should he hang out near Nanatiki and Indispensable Reef?”

  Kenwood looked up and down the hall. “I thought you knew that.” He lowered his voice. “I thought you knew that between Nanatiki and Indispensable lie some of the richest deep-water pearl beds in the world”

  Page 17

  CHAPTER IV

  The Jerrold Pearls

  It seemed to Rick as though he had hardly drifted off to sleep before he was awakened by a knock on the door. He opened his eyes and realized that it was morning. It wasn’t late, though, because the shadows were still long in the room and the air was cool.

  Scotty sat up in the next bed and called, “Who is it?”

  “You open up? Gottemchow.”

  “Breakfast in bed!”Rick exclaimed. “That’s for me.” He opened the door for the Javanese houseboy, who brought in a tray of coffee, rolls, and fresh mangoes, compliments of the proprietor.

  “Did you take some to the young lady next door?” Scotty asked.

  “Missy gottem .”

  It took only a few moments to shower, brush their teeth, and get into clean slacks and shirts. Then they sat down to enjoy breakfast.

  “We’re early,” Scotty said. “It’s onlyseven o’clock .”

  “Guess the proprietor took us at our word,” Rick agreed. “Never mind, we can do some shopping before the ship gets in. I imagine Barby will
want to buy some souvenirs to send home.”

  They were finishing the last of the fruit when Barby knocked. “Come on, you sleepyheads,” she called.

  Rick opened the door. “We’ve been up for hours.Waiting for you.”

  “I know,” Barby jeered. “I could hear you snoring.’*

  “I never snore,” Scotty said with dignity.

  Barby’s eyebrows went up. “No? Then two buzz saws must have been having a duet under my window.

  Come on. I want to see some more ofNoumea .”

  They walked past the Place des Cocotiers and into a side street, searching for shops. Later, laden with baskets, mats, and an assortment of carvings, they started back toward the hotel. They were in the market section of town, so they walked slowly, taking in the colorful scene. Dark Kanaka women bartered with dainty Javanese, and with Tonkinese women whose teeth were black from betel. The air was redolent with the smell of foodstuffs, fish, fruit, and people.

  A little Javanese man stepped in front of them and bowed ingratiatingly.“Missy like pearl?Number one water, good color.”

  Page 18

  Barby’s blue eyes opened wide.“A real pearl? Oh, let me see it.”

  The little man unfolded a dirty bit of cloth, exposing a tiny white globe no larger than a match head.

  A voice spoke from behind them. “Don’t waste your time or money.”

  They turned to meet the American whom Barby had reprimanded the day before.

  “You won’t find good pearls in the market place,” he said, smiling. “Take my advice. You’ll end up buying a piece of junk for an exorbitant price.”

  “You know pearls?” Rick asked politely.

  “I think I do. They’re a hobby, if you want to call it that. Incidentally, my name is Jerrold. Young lady, am I forgiven for yesterday’s episode?”

  “Of course.”Barby was very gracious about it. She introduced herself and the boys.

  “Delighted to meet you,” Jerrold said. “It’s always a pleasure to meet fellow Americans in a foreign land.

  Perhaps you could have chocolate with me?”

  Rick and Scotty hesitated, but Barby accepted.“If you’ll tell me something about choosing pearls.”

  “I’ll be glad to. My hotel is right around the corner.”

  They walked with him to the town’s leading hotel, a place no more elaborate than the one where they were staying. But, unlike theirs, his had a dining room. Rick checked their purchases at the desk.

  “I never thought much about pearls,” Barby explained over a steaming cup of rich chocolate, “until I got a pamphlet called Daughter of the Moon. Did you know that’s what pearls are called? It was full of wonderful information. Until then, I liked emeralds. Now I think I’d rather have pearls.”

  “Good choice,” Jerrold approved. “Pearls seem alive. They have warmth and richness.” His eyes gleamed as he warmed to his subject. “Unlike other jewels, they grow to maturity, and they seem to have life inside of them.”

  Rick realized they had hit on the big man’s favorite topic. “You sound like a collector, sir,” Rick remarked. “Have you bought many pearls?”

  Jerrold lowered his voice. “A fortune’s worth. For the past five years, ever since I came into the Pacific, I have been trying to match a perfect string. You realize the difficulties? To put together a flawless set requires much searching and judgment. Every pearl must be of exactly the same shade. There is considerable variation in color, you know. Then, they must be graduated in size so that each is only a trifle smaller or larger than the one beside it.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Barby breathed. “I’d love to see some real pearls.”

  “Finish your chocolate,” Jerrold commanded. He excused himself, rose, and walked to the hotel desk.

  Rick saw him speak to the desk clerk who vanished into an inner room, reappearing in a moment with a heavy strongbox.

  Page 19

  Jerrold brought the box back to the table. “You’ll have to come to my room. I want to show you my beauties, but I don’t want to open this box in public.”

  Rick’s eyes asked Scotty’s a question. Scotty shrugged, then nodded.

  “I’d like to see them myself,” Rick said. He offered to help Jerrold carry the heavy box, but the big man refused.

  His room was one flight up, and it had a sitting room as well as a bedroom. Rick guessed the suite was the best the town had to offer.

  Jerrold put the strongbox on a table and unlocked two heavy padlocks that held it closed. Then he moved so that the boys couldn’t see what he was doing, and turned the combination. Finally, he lifted the cover, and, deliberately blocking their view, lifted out a flat black case, then slammed the lid shut again.

  He placed the case next to the strongbox and opened the lid.

  Barby gasped.

  Inside, against black velvet,were row after row of pearls. The largest was almost the size ofa regulation clay marble. The smallest was no larger thana buckshot . In between the extremes were rows of perfectly round pearls. Here and there were a number of blank spaces, evidently awaiting pearls of the proper size.

  Barby was speechless. She put out her hand toward the case, then swiftly drew it back.

  “Pick them up, if you like,” Jerrold said. “But be careful not to drop them. They’re devilish hard to find when they roll under furniture.”

  Rick couldn’t get excited over the display. They were pretty enough, but he couldn’t understand Jerrold’s high enthusiasm or Barby’s rapture. Scotty stared at the box and didn’t say anything.

  Barby and Jerrold discussed them enthusiastically. They talked of weight and color. They counted the vacant spaces that must be filled before the string was complete. Then, reluctantly, Barby helped rearrange the pearls and stood aside as the case was snapped shut.

  Again, Jerrold lifted the lid of the strongbox, interposing his big body between the box and the three young people. But this time, Scotty moved quickly on silent feet and looked over Jerrold’s shoulder.

  When the big American turned around, Scotty was looking disinterestedly through the window.

  “Thank you very much,” Barby said, and the boys echoed her.

  Jerrold smiled. “Perhaps it wasn’t fair to show you so much all at once. But I’ll tell you what, if you’d like one pearl, or perhaps two, I’ll act as your agent. I expect to see . . . that is, I’ll be in contact with a man who has some fine pearls tomorrow, probably tomorrow night. If you’ll tell me what you’d like and how much you want to spend . . .”

  “It’s no use,” Barby sighed. “I do thank you, Mr. Jerrold, but we’ll be gone by tomorrow night. Besides, all the money we have wouldn’t buy even one pearl like those.”

  Page 20

  Jerrold walked with them to the door of the hotel, then waved as they walked toward theNoumea docks. It was almost nine-thirty. The Tarpon would arrive any time now.

  Scotty let Barby get a few steps ahead, then motioned to Rick. “Got something to tell you,” he whispered.

  Rick considered. Barby was with them; she was a full partner in this expedition. He decided that, although they would definitely keep out of trouble, they would have no secrets from her.

  “Listen, sis,” he said, and he told her of their visit from Kenwood last night.

  Barby listened gravely. “So the Phantom Shark is a man,” she said when he had finished. “And a pearl pirate and a murderer! But I don’t see why we should be afraid. We haven’t any pearls, and I’m afraid we won’t ever get any.”

  “That’s right,” Rick agreed. “Scotty, what’s on your mind?”

  Scotty waited until they had passed a group of Frenchmen. “Didn’t anything strike you as funny about that collection of Jerrold’s?”

  “Funny? It was beautiful!” Barby exclaimed. “It was worth a tremendous amount of money.”

  “That’s just the point.”

  They had reached the beginning of the piers. Rick suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouet
te, far out in the bay. He could make out the characteristic lines of a trawler, and this one was painted white, as no commercial fishing boat was likely to be in this part of the world.

  “There’s the Tarpon!” he exclaimed.

  Barby and Scotty looked to where he pointed. For long moments they watched the slow progress of the ship.

  “It won’t be here for quite a while,” Barby said. “Finish what you were going to say, Scotty.”

  “All right.I knew there was something wrong about that collection, but it didn’t ring a bell right away.

  Now I know what it was. It was too complete.”

  “But Jerrold has plenty of money,” Rick objected. “Why shouldn’t it be complete?”

  “He told us how hard it was to match pearls, didn’t he? And listen, I’ve heard stories about pearlers .

  They don’t live on the pearls they find, you know. Their big income is from the pearl shell. They sell it for making buttons and things like that. When they find a pearl, it’s a bonus, sort of. Well, if pearls are that rare, and they really are, imagine how difficult it is to collect a lot of them. I guess even the biggest dealers have trouble matching strings. You know, one pearl may be worth only a couple of hundred, but if you find one exactly like it, their combined value is multiplied. I don’t know exactly how much, but as a guess, if each pearl is worth two hundred, put them together and they’re worth maybe six or seven hundred.

  That’s because they’re hard to match. A matched string like Jerrold’s is priceless.”

  “I begin to see what you mean,” Bick said slowly.

  Page 21

  “I don’t,” Barby said impatiently.

  “Well, if pearls are rare and matching them is so hard, even for a big pearl dealer, how can Jerrold have put together a string like that? How many pearls would you say he had in the collection?”

  “I didn’t count them. But there were at least three hundred. Wouldn’t you say so, Rick?”

  “At least.”

  “Then to match them up,” Scotty continued, “he must have examined about three thousand pearls, at a conservative estimate, because I don’t think one out of ten would match up. Now-do you mean to tell me he matched them by casually meeting pearl salesmen with perhaps ten or twenty pearls to choose from? But the clincher came when I peeked over his shoulder. Do you know what was in the box?”