The White Witch of the South Seas

by Dennis Wheatley

  After they had dined, Gregory and James signed the Articles of Association over the Fiji stamps already on the document, then had it witnessed by the manager of the hotel and his book-keeper.

  The following morning, although it was a Sunday, Gregory rang up the Governor’s secretary and requested an audience with His Excellency on a matter of urgency. By way of introduction he used the name of the French Ambassador in London, who happened to be an acquaintance of his. He was then told that the Governor had been flown to Paris ten days earlier to undergo a serious operation; but his Deputy, General Riband, would grant the requested interview at five o’clock that afternoon.

  The Residency proved to be a large, modern building, in a small park on high ground at the extreme north-eastern corner of the town. On paying off his taxi, Gregory got a shock, as the meter read 1,300 francs. He already knew that New Caledonia had its own currency—the Pacific Franc—but, even so, to run in from the hotel had cost him just over one pound sterling.

  After waiting for some ten minutes, when he was shown up to the Governor’s office he received a very pleasant surprise. The bulky, blue-eyed, now grey-haired man seated behind a handsome desk had a familiar look. A minute later Gregory recognised him as one-time Lieutenant Ribaud of the Deuxième Bureau, with whom he had had friendly dealings during the early days of the war.

  Recognition was mutual. Exclaiming ‘It is—yes, I have the name, Monsieur Sallust!’, the plump General stood up, beaming, came out from behind his desk, embraced Gregory and went on, ‘What pleasure to see an old friend in this Godforsaken place. How do you come to be in Noumea?’

  ‘First,’ Gregory smiled, ‘let me congratulate you, mon Général, upon having achieved this high rank.’

  The General shrugged and threw out his hands. ‘Our President is good to those who worked for him in the days of his adversity. It is as simple as that. As you know, after the fall of Paris I joined the Resistance. While a soldier I was not unsuccessful, so when the war ended I transferred from the Police to the Army. Things have gone well for me. But oh! what would I not give to be out of this hothouse and back in Paris! Sit down, mon ami. A cigarette; cognac if you wish. Tell me now, what can I do for you?’

  Accepting a Gauloise, Gregory lit it and gave particulars of his interest in the sunken Reina Maria Amalia.

  The General screwed up his face in a grimace, ‘It is true that the French Government is entitled to ten per cent of the value of any goods brought up. But alas, mon vieux, you come too late. Only a week ago I granted a licence to another man to salvage her contents.’

  9

  Outbreak of Passion

  On hearing that a licence had been granted to someone else, Gregory was annoyed, but not surprised by the thought that Lacost had got in ahead of him. With a frown, he said, ‘That is most unfortunate. In the hope of securing this treasure I have formed a company with Ratu James Omboloku, the hereditary ruler of the Nakapoa Group ….’

  ‘I know him, of course,’ General Ribaud put in. ‘A handsome and very pleasant young man. But unfortunately, he is always asking us for funds to help him improve the lot of his people, and we have to refuse him because the money is not available.’

  ‘It was for that very purpose that the Ratu intended to use his share of the treasure, if we could have got it up. That we should have been forestalled by a group of unscrupulous ex-Colons from Algeria, who will probably dissipate the money on drink and women, makes me see red.’

  ‘Ex-Colons?’ the General raised his eyebrows. ‘I do not understand. Why should you suppose that such people are involved in this matter?’

  ‘Was it not a man named Lacost who applied for the licence? But perhaps he made use of a nominee.’

  Ribaud shook his round, closely-cropped grey head. ‘I cannot think that the man to whom I issued the licence would act as a nominee for anyone. He is a Brazilian millionaire named Valentim Mauá de Carvalho.’

  Gregory sat forward with a jerk. ‘Well, I’ll be damned! I met him in Brazil. Ratu James had gone there hoping to secure his financial backing. But de Carvalho was threatened by these Colons that they would make it hot for him if he put up the money. He told us that his reason for backing out was lack of evidence that there had ever been any quantity of gold in the ship. The records in Antigua show that there was, and later we learned that, and that de Carvalho had already seen them; so he lied to us. I naturally assumed that he had backed out from fear of the Colons. It’s clear now that he’s prepared to risk that, and double-crossed James to do him out of his share. Do you know where de Carvalho is now?’

  ‘No. He has a fine, seagoing yacht and left in her the day after he obtained his licence; but not, I think, for Tujoa. He said something about making a trip to Tonga.’

  ‘Do you think it likely that he will return?’

  Hunching his broad shoulders, Ribaud spread out his hands. ‘Who can say? The island is as flat as a pancake. It is covered almost entirely with plantations of coconut and banana palms; so there is nothing to see there except one mysterious old arch formed from three huge blocks of stone, and the blow holes on the coast, out of which the water spouts fifty feet into the air. But the new Date Line Hotel is one of the best in the South Pacific. It has an excellent restaurant, a beautiful garden and swimming pool, and it would be difficult to find more willing, happy servants anywhere. Tout comfort, in fact. De Carvalho likes that sort of thing and can well afford to pay for it. While they were here, instead of remaining on their yacht, he and his wife stayed out at the Château Royal. If you enquire of the manager there, he could tell you if, before leaving, they made another reservation.’

  When Gregory had thanked him the General said, ‘I trust, mon ami, that you are not engaged this evening. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me.’

  Gregory accepted gladly, then returned to his hotel and broke the news about de Carvalho to James. The young Ratu was righteously indignant. After they had discussed the matter for some time he said, ‘Of one thing I am certain. His wife could not have been aware of his treacherous intentions. She is as honest as she is beautiful and had she suspected this she would have found some way to warn me.’

  ‘If you are sure of that, she might prove a big help to us,’ remarked Gregory thoughtfully. ‘That is, if they do return here or we can somehow get hold of them. No man likes to be shamed in front of his wife; and if he has told her some story about buying you out, there is a chance that we might persuade him to cut you in on the deal, as was originally intended. Anyhow, as I am dining with General Ribaud, you might go to the Château Royal this evening and see what you can find out.’

  At seven-thirty one of the Governor’s cars called for Gregory and took him to the Residence. Ribaud was a widower; so they dined alone, and over the meal swapped stories of the desperate times when Paris had been occupied by the Nazis. Later in the evening the conversation inevitably turned to de Gaulle.

  ‘One cannot help admiring him,’ Gregory remarked, ‘although he is no friend to Britain.’

  The General shrugged. ‘What can you expect after the way your people treated him while he was in London? Churchill even refused to let him know the date fixed for the return to France. How would you have felt if, after all those years in exile as the leader of the Free British in Paris, the Prime Minister had invited you to breakfast and told you that at that very moment French troops were already on the Sussex beaches without a single British soldier to represent your Empire?’

  ‘I’d have felt as mad as a hatter,’ Gregory smiled. ‘But there was a very good reason for that. You know as well as I do that, while the majority of your countrymen who came to England and joined the Free French were animated solely by patriotic motives, there were many bad eggs among them: crooks and adventurers who had nothing to gain and everything to lose if Britain succeeded in defeating Germany. Quite a number of them were completely unscrupulous and were selling to the enemy all the information they could get—and that goes for certain
of the officers who held high positions on de Gaulle’s staff.

  ‘Our people knew that and could have pulled them in, but I don’t have to tell you that in the counter-espionage game the devil you know is less dangerous than the devil you don’t know. Had we arrested them, it is possible that they would have been replaced by others equally treacherous; so the only alternative was to deny de Gaulle and his staff access to all the really important information about our plans.’

  ‘Are you really sure that this was so?’

  ‘Certain of it. When I was not on missions abroad I held a cover appointment as a Wing Commander on the Staff of the War Cabinet, and to do my job I had to be in on many secrets. The pity of it is that even after the war, when we were able to tell de Gaulle the facts, he refused to believe us and has remained anti-British ever since.’

  ‘You must admit, though, that apart from withholding information from him your people treated him very badly. Time and again they refused him permission to go to North Africa and to France, and when he did get back they did their utmost to prevent him from relieving Paris.’

  There I agree, but for that you must blame General Eisenhower. And, strategically, he was right in his wish to bypass Paris; then, once he had the Boche on the run, use all the resources he could muster to throw them right back to the Siegfried Line. De Gaulle’s premature dash to Paris wrecked the plan because, once the capital was liberated, its great population had to be fed by the Allies, and the offensive had to be broken off owing to the cost in petrol.’

  Ribaud shrugged. ‘Had de Gaulle not acted as he did, Paris would have been seized by the Communists and before long they would have had control of the whole of France. So the matter is arguable. But, if it is any consolation to you, the General’s policy has been even more anti-American than anti-British.’

  ‘I know, and more’s the pity. Above all, his withdrawal from NATO. If ever there was a dangerous card to play it was that one. Mind you, for many years past it has been my view that China is the great danger and that we have little to fear from Russia. But one never knows.’

  ‘I think you are right, and for that reason de Gaulle has shown great statemanship in his rapprochement with the Soviet Union.’

  Gregory nodded. ‘He also showed it in his conception of combining Europe into a third Great Power block. Federated Europe would have a greater population and more resources than either America or Russia, and would have become independent of the dollar. But he muffed it by keeping Britain out of the Common Market. And, in view of the real menace that China is becoming, could Europe really afford to do without the United States? As I see it, unless a major war is fought to stop them, within another decade the Chinese will have overrun the whole of East Asia and India. Then we will definitely have to fight to defend Australia and New Zealand. For us to have any chance of winning against the Asiatic hordes, equipped with those ghastly modern weapons, there is only one thing for it—a Triple Alliance of the United States, Europe and Russia.’

  With a rueful grin Ribaud said, ‘Your reasoning is sound enough, but what a terrible picture you conjure up. So many of old Nostradamus’ prophecies have come true, perhaps the one he made about Paris being destroyed in the year 2000 by a flock of giant, man-made birds coming from the East will too.’

  It was one o’clock before Gregory got back to his hotel, so it was not until the following morning that he learned the result of James’ visit to the Château Royal. The de Carvalhos were expected back there on Thursday the 16th, which was in three days’ time.

  Earnestly they debated their strategy. Loath as they now were to have de Carvalho as a partner, they could not possibly ignore that fact that he had secured the licence; and Ribaud had made it unmistakably clear that an attempt by anyone else to salvage the treasure would be a criminal act, equivalent to piracy, and so liable to heavy penalties. Therefore, the best they could hope for was to shame the Brazilian into the kind of arrangement that he had tentatively agreed with James in Rio before Gregory had come on the scene. Obviously the nature of the threat would render it futile if it was made in Olinda’s presence, so somehow they must get him on his own, unknown to her.

  James, being himself of a very upright nature, found it difficult to believe that any man of de Carvalho’s standing would allow himself to be denounced to his wife as a crook, so considered their chances good. The cynical Gregory was by no means so optimistic, but it was he who had first suggested that use might be made of Olinda’s reactions to what had taken place, and he agreed that the idea would, at least, be worth trying.

  The first move was obviously to find out what they could about the way in which the de Carvalhos spent their time while in Noumea, with a view to catching Valentim when Olinda was not with him. James said that the Château Royal was mainly staffed by New Caledonian natives. The latter were of the same Melanesian stock as his own people and, he felt sure, would talk freely to him. So it was decided that later in the day, while Gregory had a stroll round the town, James should pump some of the servants at the hotel.

  The Château Royal was only a quarter of a mile further along the road out of town than the Nouváta. Soon after lunch, James set off in the broiling heat, to walk there, in order to catch one or two of the chambermaids and valets while they were off duty. Gregory, meanwhile, enjoyed a siesta, then a swim. When he went to the desk to ask for a taxi to be summoned, a young, brown-skinned New Caledonian was standing there. On hearing Gregory’s request, he turned to him and said:

  ‘Monsieur, I am from the Tourist Office, and I am about to return to the city. Allow me to offer you a lift.’

  Gregory gladly accepted. As they went out to the young man’s car, he introduced himself as Henry Maniquant and asked, ‘Have you been up the height just behind here? If not, I will drive you up before we go downtown. It is well worth a visit.’

  Maniquant proved right. Ten minutes’ drive up a broad, steep, curving road brought them to the Naval Radio Station, several hundred feet above the sea. From there the panorama was magnificent. On one side lay the great sweep of Ansa Vata Bay, on the other the Baie de St. Marie. Between them, behind the town, in the low-lying neck of the peninsula, the Stadium, a large, open-air, drive-in cinema and Magenta Airport could be clearly seen. Islands, large and small, were scattered round the coast in all directions, and inland to the north rose range after range of mountains. Gregory had to admit that although New Caledonia lacked the colour of Fiji, it certainly had some magnificent scenery.

  On the way to the town young Maniquant proved a mine of information and extraordinarily enthusiastic about his job. Before they parted, he pressed on Gregory half a dozen pamphlets with useful information. Among them was one that Gregory thought must be unique in tourist-attraction literature. It listed over two hundred and fifty French and New Caledonian dishes, giving against each particulars in English of the ingredients.

  Gregory had not previously realised that Noumea was by far the largest town in the South Pacific, with a population of thirty-five thousand. Even so, as he strolled in the still-strong, late afternoon sunshine, through streets named after famous French statesmen and Generals, he was surprised to find that the blocks contained many large stores, as well as scores of good shops, restaurants and travel agencies. As in Suva, the majority of the people were dark-skinned; but here there were few Indians, a higher proportion of Chinese and many Indonesians.

  By the cocktail hour he arrived back at the Nouváta, where James met him, grinning with satisfaction. He had located the quarters occupied by the de Carvalhos, and had talked to both the floor waiter and the chambermaid who had looked after them. The Brazilian couple had spent most of the days together. During the mornings Valentim sunbathed in the garden while Olinda swam in the sea, then in the late afternoons they went shopping or for a drive in a car. After dinner they always went up to their suite together, but, apparently, Olinda liked to have a last swim before going to bed; so, leaving him there, at about ten o’clock she went down again in
a wrap and spent twenty minutes or so in the pool.

  ‘That provides us with the opportunity, then,’ Gregory smiled. ‘The next thing is to devise a way of catching him in his suite without warning, or any of the hotel people questioning us as strangers when we go upstairs.’

  Having thought for a few moments, he went on:

  ‘I have it. Tomorrow I will move out to the Château Royal and take a room as near their suite as possible, anyhow in the same wing. Then on Thursday, when they are due to return, so that I don’t run into them I’ll pretend that I have a tummy upset and remain in my room all day. You will telephone in the evening to make certain they have arrived, then go out to the hotel about ten o’clock and post yourself in the garden under cover. As soon as you see Olinda come down for her swim, go into the hotel and ask for me. I’ll say you are to be sent up, then the two of us will go along to the suite and catch Master de Carvalho napping.’

  After dinner that evening Gregory walked along to the Château Royal and said that he did not like the Nouváta, so wished to move. Then, having rejected two rooms that he was shown, he settled on one which was only two doors from the suite the de Carvalhos had occupied and reserved for their return.

  Next morning he made his move and, in daylight, was able to appreciate fully how preferable was the Château Royal to the Nouváta, for those who could afford it. The Château Royal was the only hotel on the sea side of the highway; so the guests had immediate access to the beach. In the main block the spacious lounge and restaurant were glass-walled, so that one could look out to seaward on a tree-surrounded swimming pool and, beyond it to the left, a separate beach bar where people could enjoy snack lunches while still in bathing things. To the right there was another two-storey block consisting only of bedrooms. It was there, on the upper floor, that Gregory had his room. The walls were panelled with toile-de-jouy, the furnishings were elegant, and it had a wide balcony where he could breakfast looking out on the sea.