by John Blaine
“There’s only one,” Barby said. “It’s very simple. First of all, there has to be an oyster.”
“How simple!”Chahda exclaimed. “Even a child could understand!”
Barby froze him with a look. “Then there has to be something that irritates the oyster.”
“Prickly heat?”Scotty asked.
“If you’re going to be silly,” Barby said coldly, I’ll stop.”
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The boys put on their most serious faces.
“It can be a grain of sand, or a tiny worm, or almost anything. First the oyster tries to get rid of it. Then, if he can’t, he covers it up with a layer of stuff called nacre. That’s what his shell is lined with. The book says he secretes it. Anyway, that is how a pearl starts. The oyster keeps adding layers of nacre, so if you peel a pearl it’s something like an onion. And the book says it doesn’t matter how big the oyster is, or how healthy or anything. The only thing that’s important is how much nacre he can make. Dr. Warren says that’s why the gold lip oysters have such wonderful pearls. They can produce lots of nacre.”
“Did he say why Nanatiki has so many oysters with pearls in them?” Rick queried.
“We talked about it. He thought maybe Nanatiki has some kind of little parasite that gets into oyster shells and starts a pearl. But that’s only a theory, because there is nothing in any of the books aboard about parasites like that.”
Barby switched subjects suddenly. “Is thatNew Caledonia ?”
The boys looked ahead to the horizon. There were clouds that might have been mountains, but they couldn’t be sure.
“Plenty of time,” Rick said. “Tell us some more.”
But Barby had finished the day’s lecture. “Can’t,” she said blithely. “Have to go finish some sketches I want to take home with me. ‘Bye.”
Rick watched her go down the deck toward the cabins. “She has something on her mind,” he said decisively. “I know her! She hasn’t been acting like herself for two weeks.”
“Let her scheme,” Scotty said lazily. “She’ll tell us, when the time comes. A woman can keep a secret for only so long, then she has to spill it.”
Rick had been watching the horizon. He could see now that below the cloud bank was the blue bulk of mountainous land. “There’s the island,” he said. “Not much time left.”
Scotty nodded. “Anyway, we’ve made ourselves useful.”
The Tarpon moved slowly toward the pier while the inevitable immigration officials inspected passports and seamen’s cards. Rick watched the pilot boat race away toward the official dock, then surveyed the scene before him.
Noumearose in a gradual climb to the hills behind the city. It was pretty in the late morning sun. The harbor itself was filled with shipping. At the main pier, two small interisland cargo ships were tied up, longshoremen crowding on the dock, working the cargo nets. At a smaller pier near by, a beautiful white schooner was tied up. As the trawler moved closer, Rick read the name on her stern.
KOOKABURRA, BRISBANE .
Kenwood had returned from his swing around the islands, then. Rick wondered if Van der Klaffens were also in town. It was possible.
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In a short while they swung into the pier and tied up, and the immigration officers went ashore. Rick joined the rest of the group on the aft deck.
“Better check on plane reservations,” Dr. Warren said. “You may have to wait for a few days.”
“We can get a plane going north atmidnight tomorrow,” Rick told him. “I checked the schedule before we leftHonolulu . But I don’t know about Chahda. How are you going to get back toIndia ?”
“Also checked,” Chahda said. “Go from here toSydney by plane, then take Dutch air line toSingapore .
FromSingapore is Indian line goes toBombay . But don’t know when planes leave here forAustralia .”
“You can find out easily enough,” Dr. Warren said. “Would anyone like to have lunch ashore, just for a change in cooking? I would.”
The others agreed. “We’ll go ashore right away,” Barby suggested, “and meet you at Le Bagnard atnoon .”
“Go ahead,” Mrs. Warren said. “The rest of us will follow later. I want to write some letters to mail when I go ashore.”
The four left the ship and made their way through the congestion of people and goods on the pier, and presently came out at the edge of the park.
“Barby, isn’t this where old man who is your friend has park bench?” Chahda asked. “Maybe we should visit him.”
“Maybe we should,” Barby said thoughtfully. “But let’s not all go. I want to ask him if he has heard anything new about the Phantom Shark, and he doesn’t like to talk if too many people are around.”
“I can take a hint,” Scotty remarked. “Chahda and I will walk around and meet you on the other side.
You and Rick go quiz the old man.”
“Okay,” Rick agreed. He was anxious, too, to see if Barthelemi had any new information.
The group split and Rick and Barby walked into the park. It was getting close tonoon , so they knew it was likely Barthelemi was in his usual spot. It was the coolest public place in the city when the sun got high and hot.
They found him on the same park bench. The scene hadn’t changed at all since their departure. He might even have been in the same relaxed position for all they could tell.
The old convict’s eyes opened wide at the sight of them, and he rose to his feet. “So! You have returned safe! You did not go near Nanatiki?”
Barby sat down and invited him to sit beside her. “We did,” she said. “And do you know what? We saw Tiim !’”
“You live to tell me this?” The old man was incredulous. “When did you see him? I must know!”
Rick counted back. “It was on the fourth day after we left, I think.”
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Barthelemi counted on his fingers.
“Are you figuring something out?” Barby asked.
“Yes, Ma’mselle Barbara.You see, the Phantom Shark was here, inNoumea .”
“When?”Rick asked eagerly.
“Twice that I know of. Once it was on the night of the fifteenth. Ah, how can I tell you how foolish I was? I saw him meet the American again.” He shrugged. “I would not have gone, but I had to know if he was here, or in Nanatiki.”
“You were worried about us,” Barby said gently. “That was nice, Mr. Barthelemi.”
The old man smiled. “What are friends for, if not to worry about? Yes, I saw the American leave his hotel, and I hurried ahead of him to Anse Vata , and I hid on top of the hill behind the beach, far away so I would not be found, but in a good place so I could see if h?met the Phantom Shark. He did.Just as before.”
Rick nodded. “It’s a good place for them to meet. The Shark can make a quick getaway into the water.
There’s not even much chance of a patrol boat catching him there, because the reef is closed outside of Anse Vata . Only a small boat can get in.”
“When was the second time?” Barby asked.
Barthelemi seemed reluctant to talk. “No one knows of this, except for one other. It was when the American left. I heard talk from a friend who works in the hotel kitchen that he had planned to leave soon after the night when he met ‘him.’ But a cable came. My friend said it ordered the American to buy more chromite , and it took almost two weeks to make the arrangements, and then he had to wait a few more days for the airplane toAustralia . The plane was to leave in the hour after dawn, from the field at Tontouta . You know? It is perhaps fifty kilometers from here, in the mountains. The American left the hotel before dawn. I did not see him go. But as he rode to the field, the car ran into a mass of brush that had been placed across the road. It was a lonely spot, above Paita . The car stopped, and the Phantom Shark appeared.”
Barthelemi took another look up and down the path. “The American did not reach the airfield. He has not been seen since that time.”
Rick’s eyes met Barby�
��s.
Jerrold, in the hands of the Phantom Shark!But why? What would the criminal want with the American?
He had sold him pearls enough for his necklace; surely he wouldn’t try to get the necklace back! If the stories were true, it was men like Jerrold upon whom the Phantom depended. He would know that to rob a customer would mean that other rich men would fear to do business with him. It didn’t make sense.
“How do you know all this if you didn’t see him leave the hotel?” Rick asked.
“It was Henri,” Barthelemi said. “He was the driver.
He saw the Phantom Shark, but only for a moment, and then he was struck on the head. When he awoke, both the American and the Phantom Shark had gone. He got into his taxi and he drove back, and Page 73
he told me because we are friends. We have been afraid to tell anyone else, because who knows if we might not tell the Phantom Shark himself and never know until his knife found our throats?”
“We’ll have to tell the police,” Barby said. She looked frightened.
“You must not tell the police,” Barthelemi said in swift fear. “If they know, the whole world knows. You would have to tell them everything, and then Henri would surely die. I beg of you, do not tell the police.
You must promise!”
Rick and Barby hesitated.
“Promise!” the old man commanded. “If you do not, you will violate the confidence I have placed in you as friends.”
There didn’t seem to be much choice. Rick and Barby said, “We promise.”
Rick added, “If we can tell the boys who are with us, we may be able to do something without endangering Henri or you.”
“That will be all right,” Barthelemi said.“If you promise not to say my name, or that of Henri.”
“We won’t,” Rick said.
The two joined Chahda and Scotty on the opposite side of the park.
“Take long time,” Chahda said. “Old man got news?”
“Plenty,” Rick said grimly. “The Phantom Shark got Jerrold.”
“Killed him?” Scotty asked quickly.
“I don’t know.” Rick repeated Barthelemi’s story, extracting the promise of silence.
As they walked to the air-line office to check on a plane for Chahda, Rick thought hard. The Phantom Shark had really killed the goose that laid the golden eggs this time. It wasn’t in keeping with the way he operated. He wondered if Henri were sure that he had seen the Phantom Shark and decided that he must be. He had probably seen the disguised figure in dark hood and gloves, and possibly the sign of the Shark had been left. There was always a possibility that someone who knew Jerrold had the pearls, plus a large amount of ready cash, had pretended to be the Shark, but Rick didn’t think it likely. With the reputation of the Shark, no one would dare impersonate him.
“Wonder how come the air line didn’t know Jerrold hadn’t left?” he asked.
The answer to that was apparent a few minutes after they had walked into the air-line office. It was occupied by a Javanese clerk who didn’t appear to know much of anything. He was office manager, clerk, janitor, flight dispatcher, and general factotum. They gathered that the line was an irregular carrier that operated on a catch-as-catch-can basis. Planes came intoNew Caledonia twice a week-sometimes.
Sometimes they didn’t come at all. Evidently it depended on how much pay load the plane could pick up inAustralia .
Rick thought the plane crew had probably assumed Jerrold had canceled his trip or had simply missed Page 74
the plane, and that he would cash in his ticket or save it until next trip. Likely they hadn’t even inquired for the missing passenger on the next run into the island.
Chahda gathered that a flight was due two days hence, but there was no assurance that it would arrive.
He shrugged. A day or two didn’t mean much.
His reservation accepted by the indifferent clerk, the four went a few doors away to the Panair office. It took only a few minutes to make a reservation on the northbound plane; they already had return tickets.
As they neared Le Bagnard , Scotty asked abruptly, “Well, what are we going to do about it?”
“What can we do? Rick said. “Barthelemi tied our hands.”
“Yes,” Barby said firmly. “We must do something. He’s an American, even if I don’t like him much.”
“Well have a fine time trying to do anything without telling the others what we’re up to,” Rick observed.
“We have to,” Barby said. “If we left here knowing that Jerrold was in the hands of the Phantom Shark we’d never be able to look ourselves in the face again.”
“Too true,” agreed Chahda.
Rick sighed. “Well,” he said, “here we go again!”
CHAPTER XVI
Rick Tells a Tale
Le Bagnard was deserted except for the Javanese waiter because it was past the morning chocolate hour and too early for lunch. Rick chose a table in the corner, far enough away from the kitchen door so that low conversation could not be overheard. He told the Javanese they would wait until friends arrived before ordering, then plunged into the practicalities of the case.
“All right.Jerrold has disappeared. I don’t see how we can even guess where he might have been taken.
The Phantom has a sailboat. He might have taken Jerrold to sea, or dropped him on one of the thousand little islands around here, or he might have taken him into the hills.”
Chahda made absent-minded designs on the tablecloth with his spoon.“Can’t tell. Before we can guess where Jerrold is, we must know what Phantom Shark wanted him for.”
“The Almanac Kid has something there,” Scotty conceded. “Got any ideas?”
Rick had none. Since there could be no reason for the kidnaping of Jerrold in the face of the known facts there must be some facts they didn’t possess. The kidnaping had to be for profit. The Phantom Shark was a businessman. He wouldn’t risk his neck for amusement.
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“What does the Phantom Shark gain?” he asked.
“Ransom,” Barby said promptly.
Scotty shook his head and signaled for glasses of water. “It doesn’t figure. Kidnaping an American citizen would mean action by the American Consul here. The police would have no choice but to stir up a regular whing -ding that would cause the Shark plenty of grief. He’d be stupid to risk it.”
“Jerrold finished necklace,” Chahda speculated. “Maybe it was more valuable than even Phantom Shark had thought. So he took it back.”
Rick motioned for silence as the waiter brought glasses of ice water. Chahda’s idea might account for the theft of the necklace, although he doubted even that. It wouldn’t account for Jerrold’s kidnaping .
“We have to start somewhere,” he said when the Javanese had left. “Suppose we start by getting the exact dope from Henri?”
“Will he talk?” Scotty asked doubtfully.
“He’ll tell me,” Barby said with complete confidence. “He’s my friend.”
Rick had to grin. Barby had faith in the power of friendship. He agreed that Henri would probably tell her his story, even though he probably wouldn’t tell anyone else. He glanced at his watch and saw that it lacked a half hour tonoon .
“There’s time enough right now. Henri’s probably in front of the hotel. Why not go talk with him?”
“I’d better go alone,” Barby said. “He might not want to tell too many people.”
Rick thought that was probably true, but he wouldn’t permit Barby to go anywhere alone. He was on the verge of saying so when Scotty saved him the trouble.
“You can go alone, but I’ll be right behind you. You get a bodyguard whether you like it or not.”
Barby favored Scotty with a smile. “But I like it!” She pushed her chair back and directed, “I’ll go first.
You can come along a few seconds later. Just don’t be obvious about it.”
Before Scotty’s jaw could even drop, she was on her way out of the restaurant.
Chahda started to call after the ex-Marine, then suddenly closed his mouth. He was looking at the door.
Rick turned in time to see Van der Klaffens enter. So the Dutch trader was in town!
Rick greeted him cordially. At his invitation, Van der Klaffens pulled up a chair. He drew out a handkerchief and mopped his round face, then signaled for water.
“You had a good trip, yes? How was Nanatiki?”
“Fine,” Rick said. The vague outline of a plan began to take place in his mind. “We’ll tell you about it some other time. Right now we have a problem.”
“Yes?Of what kind?”
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“Well, it’s about Jerrold. You remember him?”
Chahda’seyes opened wide.
“The American?Yes, I remember. What about him? He has been gone for days.”
“That’s just it,” Rick said. “We met him before we left, and, since we were fellow Americans, he asked us to help him out. He was afraid of something, but he didn’t tell us what it was. He just asked us to check up when we got back.”
“Check up?In what manner?”
Rick’s brown eyes took on a faraway look. “He wanted us to check up on his leaving. He told us he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to leaveNoumea alive. We were to go to the air line and be sure that he had gotten away all right.”
The Dutchman’s round face broke into a smile. “Is that all? He did get away all right. The hotel clerk mentioned it to me the morning after he left.”
“Oh, he left the hotel,” Rick agreed. “But he never got on the plane.”
For the briefest second the Dutchman’s expression froze, then he smiled again. “But he must have, because he is no longer here.”
“He started out,” Rick said patiently. “But he didn’t reach the airport.”
“And how do you know this?”
“We talked to his driver. According to the driver, they had reached a point above Paita when Jerrold suddenly ordered the taxi to stop. He had a gun. He forced the driver to get out, then he went on by himself. The driver couldn’t understand what was wrong, but he knew he wasn’t going to let Jerrold get away with it, so he hiked along after the taxi. Two miles up the road he found the taxi, but no Jerrold.