The Golden Reef (1969)

by Pattinson, James

  She said: ‘Ben’s arm is worse. When do you think we’ll reach port?’

  ‘Not yet‚’ Keeton said. ‘Not for a long while yet. We can’t run the engine now that the fuel’s all used up, and Roamer never was a fast ship. With this cargo she’s a whole lot slower.’

  ‘We’d be able to go faster without the gold, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘That’s true. But it so happens that we’ve got it.’

  He could see what she was getting at: she was suggesting that he should jettison the cargo in order to increase the speed of the yawl. But that was too much to ask after all he had been through to get it; a lot too much.

  She seemed to read his thoughts. ‘Does the gold mean more to you than Ben’s life?’

  ‘He won’t die‚’ Keeton said. But he did not feel nearly as certain of that as his words might have indicated. There could be no blinking the fact that Ben was in a bad way.

  ‘He will die if he doesn’t get proper medical attention very soon.’

  Keeton felt uneasy under her unmoving gaze. It was as though she were accusing him of trying to kill Dring.

  At last he said: ‘Take over here. I’ll go and have a look at him.’

  She took the helm and he went down the companionway into the cabin. There was a stain on the cushions where Rains had bled. The boards had a fresh, scrubbed look, but the stain was there also.

  Dring was lying on his bunk with his eyes open. He seemed to be breathing evenly, except that now and then there was a sudden catch in his breath, as though he had felt a stab of pain.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Keeton asked.

  Dring turned his head slowly and stared at Keeton, screwing up his eyes as if he had some difficulty in focusing them. He spoke as slowly as he had moved, answering the question with careful deliberation.

  ‘I’m OK, Skipper.’

  ‘Val seems worried about you. She thinks I ought to lighten the ship, so as to get you to hospital sooner.’

  ‘How would you do that, Skipper?’ Dring’s voice was hoarse and rather faint. It seemed to cost him some effort to speak at all.

  ‘There’s only one way it could be done‚’ Keeton said, watching Dring’s face. ‘We’d have to jettison the cargo.’

  ‘The gold?’

  ‘That’s the only cargo we have. What do you say? Would you like me to throw the gold overboard? Your share too?’

  ‘Hell, no!’ Dring said. ‘The kid gets queer ideas into that pretty little head of hers. She’s scared of the gold, that’s what it is. It gives her nightmares. But I’m not scared. I want my share.’

  ‘Just so long as I know‚’ Keeton said.

  He went back to the girl.

  ‘I’ve been talking to your brother‚’ he said. ‘Ben doesn’t seem to agree with you.’

  She looked at him sharply. ‘In what way?’

  ‘He thinks he’s going to live. He doesn’t want any of his gold chucked into the sea. He seems to have taken a fancy to the idea of being a rich man.’

  ‘He’ll never be rich.’ Her voice sounded bitter.

  ‘Why not? With a quarter share of the gold—’

  ‘Gold! Can’t you think of anything else? He’ll never live to have any of it.’ She spoke vehemently and there was a kind of fire in her eyes. ‘Is that what you want? To kill him so that you can have it all for yourself? Is that it?’

  He could not face her accusing eyes. He turned away with a sense of guilt; for the thought had occurred to him also. Though he had tried not to listen to it, somewhere inside him a voice had whispered that if Dring went, with him would go all claim to one quarter of the gold. And because of this he answered angrily:

  ‘You’re crazy. You get these wild ideas into your head and then you start believing them. But it’s all nonsense. Why should I want Ben to die? There’s enough gold for all of us. Plenty.’

  She changed her tone suddenly. She touched his arm with her hand, pleading with him.

  ‘Won’t you do this for me, Charlie?’

  He turned and looked at her, and saw that the fire had gone out of her eyes, quenched by tears. But the tears did not overflow. ‘For you?’

  ‘And for yourself too. Oh, Charlie, don’t you see what this gold is doing to you?’

  ‘No, I don’t see. Maybe you’d better tell me.’

  ‘It’s destroying you. Oh, not in the way it destroyed those other men, but in another way. Hasn’t it caused enough horror already? Haven’t there been enough deaths?’

  ‘You don’t know how many.’

  ‘I don’t want to know. All I want is to stop it causing any more. I can’t bear to see it turning you into a—’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Go on‚’ Keeton prompted, his voice hard. ‘Why did you stop? Turn me into a what?’

  She looked away from him. ‘Do I need to say it? Can’t you see for yourself?’

  ‘Are you trying to say that I’m some kind of monster? Just because I want to be rich. Is that such a crime? If so the world is full of criminals.’

  She did not answer.

  ‘Anyway‚’ he said with a trace of bitterness, ‘why are you so concerned about me? What’s it to you if I am destroyed?’

  ‘What is it to me?’ she said. ‘Don’t you really know? Don’t you know yet that I love you?’

  Two more days passed. The winds were light and variable, and the yawl moved sluggishly, utterly alone in a vast expanse of shimmering ocean.

  And there could be no doubt that Dring was a very sick man. The bullet was still in his arm and the wound had festered; the entire arm was black and swollen. The very air in the hot, cluttered cabin seemed contaminated with the sickly odour of corrupting flesh.

  Valerie did what she could for him, but her eyes accused Keeton. It was as if in looking at him she said: ‘Can’t you see? You are killing my brother.’

  He could not meet her gaze; he felt like dirt. He watched for a sign that Dring might be getting better, a sop to ease his conscience; instead, he saw only the inescapable evidence of rapid deterioration. When Dring looked at him now there was accusation in his eyes too; he no longer spoke about his share of the gold; he seemed to know that he would not live to claim it.

  That night Keeton sat in the cockpit and thought things over. He thought for a long time, swayed one way and then the other, unable to make up his mind. At last, with a curse, he got up and went down the companionway into the lamp-lit cabin. Valerie was watching beside her brother, her face haggard from lack of sleep. She looked at him when he came in, but she said nothing.

  Keeton said nothing either. He picked up one of the cases of gold, carried it out of the cabin and flung it over the side. She must have heard the splash as it hit the water, but when he returned to the cabin she still had not moved, and still she said nothing.

  He seized the boxes one by one and threw them into the sea; and the girl watched him in utter silence. As the work progressed he became possessed by a kind of frenzy; he was like a drunkard who, having taken one glass, is hooked and cannot leave off drinking, but must go on and on while any liquor remains. So Keeton went on, the sweat pouring from him in streams; and when he had cleared the saloon he went for’ard to the other cabin and hauled up the gold from there also. And as each box dropped like discarded ballast into the sea so the yawl rode a little higher, became a little speedier, a little more lively in her movement. It was as though she too had felt this dead weight upon the heart and were so much lighter in spirit for the loss of it.

  Dawn was beginning to break when the task was completed. There was not a single bar of gold left on board. He went back to the cockpit and found the girl waiting for him.

  ‘Charlie!’ she said. And then again: ‘Charlie!’

  He sat down. He felt drained of emotion and utterly exhausted.

  ‘Well‚’ he said, ‘it’s what you wanted. We’re poor again.’

  ‘Don’t be bitter, Charlie, please. Don’t spoil it all now.’

  He gave a laugh. �
�I’m not bitter. Why should I be? There’s still a lot of gold left in that wreck.’

  She did not answer. She was staring past him, at something over his shoulder. He turned slowly and saw it too. It was a ship.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Big Wave

  Keeton was half-asleep at the helm of the yawl when the girl came out of the cabin. She was carrying a cup of tea in her hand.

  ‘I thought you might be thirsty.’

  He took the mug. ‘You think of everything, Val.’

  ‘How many more days before we reach the reef?’

  ‘Depends on the wind. Three or four maybe.’

  It had been her own idea to return with him. He had urged her, not with any enthusiasm, to accompany her brother on board the ship; but she had been adamant in refusing.

  ‘If you really intend to go back for the rest of the gold‚’ she had said, ‘you’ll need help. I won’t let you go alone. Ben is in good hands.’

  That was true. The ship had been a passenger-cargo liner, and carried a doctor. She was bound for Sydney, and within a few days Dring would be ashore. He would be all right. Keeton sipped the tea. ‘Do you still hate the gold?’

  ‘Yes‚’ she admitted. ‘But I know you would have gone for it anyway, and I couldn’t let you go down into that ship alone. I wish I could persuade you to give it up. But you won’t do that.’

  ‘No‚’ he said. ‘Not now. I can’t.’

  She sighed. ‘So that’s how it’s got to be.’

  It was that same evening when they saw the wave, small at first in the distance, but growing bigger and bigger until it was like a great hill of water advancing to meet them. It was awe-inspiring, frightening, for it had appeared without warning out of a dead calm sea. It seemed to stretch across their path from horizon to horizon, so that there was no way round, only through or over it.

  The girl clutched at Keeton’s arm. ‘It will sink us.’

  ‘No‚’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to fear.’

  They met the wave head on, and the yawl rose on its vast back like a paper boat, buoyant and weightless. It rose high in the air and then went sliding down the other side; and the tremendous ridge of water went rolling on until it shrank and vanished in the distance.

  ‘What was it?’ Valerie asked. And her voice shook.

  ‘I don’t know‚’ Keeton said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before. It must have been some kind of tidal wave.’

  She shivered. ‘It was horrible. There was something elemental about it. I was terrified.’

  ‘I wasn’t too happy myself‚’ Keeton admitted. ‘But it’s gone now, so let’s forget it.’

  Three days later they reached their destination. Yet even as they drew towards it Keeton knew that it was not the same, not as they had left it. There was no foam gleaming like snow along the reef, for there was no reef. That was the amazing, scarcely credible fact: the reef had disappeared.

  Keeton refused to believe it; it was just not possible. He checked and re-checked that this was indeed the place. He searched with his binoculars the whole wide expanse of ocean, and no sign of coral met his gaze.

  ‘It can’t be gone‚’ he muttered. ‘It can’t be.’

  And yet it was. Two pairs of eyes proved the fact.

  ‘Suppose‚’ Valerie suggested, ‘there’s been some kind of submarine earth tremor while we’ve been away. Or some volcanic action.’

  And then Keeton remembered the great wave, and he knew without doubt that she had guessed the answer: the same action that had caused the wave must have destroyed the reef also. And with the reef had gone the Valparaiso and all that was left of the gold.

  For a long while he was silent, gazing at that empty circle of water in which for nine long months had stood his home, and then he began to laugh.

  ‘It’s gone‚’ he shouted. ‘It’s gone, Val, all gone; every last ounce of it. It’s gone to the devil, and we’d have to go down into hell to dredge it up now.’

  He shook with uncontrollable laughter. He could not keep still. The laughter bubbled out of him in gusts.

  ‘Gone! All gone!’

  The girl put a hand on his arm, gazing at him in concern. ‘Charlie, you mustn’t. You’ve got to control yourself. I know what a terrible disappointment it must be for you, but—’

  He stopped laughing suddenly and stared at her. ‘Disappointment! Is that what you think? You think I’ve gone mad with frustration? Is that it?’

  ‘What else am I to think?’

  ‘What else? I’ll tell you what else. I’m glad it’s gone. Glad.’

  And it was true. At last he felt free; free to live his life as it ought to be lived; free to be like other people, no longer carrying this load upon his shoulders. For more than three years the gold had ruled him, had ordered every move that he made; and now it was gone for ever. How could he not be glad?

  ‘Let’s get away‚’ he said. ‘Let’s get away from this place – now.’

  Her eyes were shining. It was as though a cloud had lifted from her mind.

  ‘Yes‚’ she said. ‘Oh, yes; let’s get away.’

  By the Same Author

  Freedman

  Soldier, Sail North

  The Wheel of Fortune

  Last in Convoy

  The Mystery of the Gregory Kotovsky

  Contact Mr Delgado

  Across the Narrow Seas

  Wild Justice

  The Liberators

  The Last Stronghold

  Find the Diamonds

  The Plague Makers

  Whispering Death

  Three Hundred Grand

  Crusader’s Cross

  A Real Killing

  Special Delivery

  The Spanish Hawk

  Ten Million Dollar Cinch

  The Deadly Shore

  The Rodriguez Affair

  The Murmansk Assignment

  The Sinister Stars

  Sea Fury

  Watching Brief

  Weed

  Away With Murder

  Ocean Prize

  A Fortune in the Sky

  Search Warrant

  The Marakano Formula

  Cordley’s Castle

  The Haunted Sea

  The Petronov Plan

  Feast of the Scorpion

  The Honeymoon Caper

  A Walking Shadow

  The No-Risk Operation

  Final Run

  Blind Date

  Something of Value

  Red Exit

  The Courier Job

  The Rashevski Icon

  The Levantine Trade

  The Spayde Conspiracy

  Busman’s Holiday

  The Antwerp Appointment

  Stride

  The Seven Sleepers

  Lethal Orders

  The Kavulu Lion

  A Fatal Errand

  The Stalking-Horse

  Flight to the Sea

  A Car for Mr Bradley

  Precious Cargo

  The Saigon Merchant

  Life-Preserver

  Dead of Winter

  Come Home, Toby Brown

  Homecoming

  The Syrian Client

  Poisoned Chalice

  Where the Money Is

  A Dream of Madness

  Paradise in the Sun

  Dangerous Enchantment

  The Junk Run

  Legatee

  Killer

  Dishonour Among Thieves

  Operation Zenith

  Dead Men Rise Up Never

  The Spoilers

  With Menaces

  Devil Under the Skin

  The Animal Gang

  Steel

  The Emperor Stone

  Fat Man from Colombia

  Bavarian Sunset

  The Telephone Murders

  Lady from Argentina

  The Poison Traders

  Squeaky Clean

  Avenger of Blood

  A Wind on the Heath<
br />
  One-Way Ticket

  The Time of Your Life

  Death of a Go-Between

  Some Job

  The Wild One

  Skeleton Island

  A Passage of Arms

  On Desperate Seas

  Old Pals Act

  Crane

  The Silent Voyage

  The Angry Island

  Obituary for Howard Gray

  Copyright

  © James Pattinson 2003

  First published in Great Britain 2003

  This edition 2012

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9728 0 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9729 7 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 9730 3 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 7503 5 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of James Pattinson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988