The White Witch of the South Seas gs-11

by Dennis Wheatley

  In the middle of the village stood the Meeting House. Under a thatched roof it was open sided except for a surround of low wall of woven bamboo about three feet high. They proceeded there for the welcome ceremony. At one end the Chief and the adult males of the village took their places, squatting with crossed legs on rush mats. Gregory and Manon sat down in similar fashion, facing the Chief. Before him was set a large, shallow wooden bowl on four squat legs, called a tanoa, tied to which there was a long string with shells attached.

  To the accompaniment of chanting and rhythmic handclapping the dried and grated roots of the Piper methysticum bush was put in the bowl and mixed with water, to make the ceremonial drink known as Kava or Yaggona. A young warrior dipped a finely polished, coconut half shell into the mixture. Holding the cup with his arms fully extended, he slowly sank down and offered it to the Chief. With hollowed palms, everyone gave three loud claps and the Chief drank from it. The same procedure was followed with Manon and Gregory, while the natives cried, 'Matha! matha!' which means `Empty it,' as the custom is to drink it straight down. They, too, clapped three times when they had swallowed the concoction, which Gregory found to be a milky liquid with a faint flavour resembling rhubarb. The remainder of those assembled then drank in turn to the continuation of handclapping.

  The ceremony completed, the Chief led his guests to a bench shaded by a pink flowered cassia tree, and sat down between them. In front of them a dozen or more men formed a double line. Their leader uttered a low note. The others took their key from it and began to sing. They were accompanied by a band which squatted a little to one side. One man had a long, oval, double ended drum upon which he beat incredibly fast with his finger tips, others,, with several different lengths of very thick bamboo, beat upon the ground. The harmony was magnificent. Some of the songs were primitive laments, others paeons of victory.

  Later, a score of women performed meke for them, which is best expressed. by `dancing a poem'. Unaided, Gregory could interpret only a few of the movements, but the gently smiling old Chief explained from time to time that his corps de ballet was expressing the surging of the sea, the sowing and the harvest, the growth of great trees and their destruction in a hurricane.

  Under the midday sun the sweat streamed down the shoulders of the men and the rounded arms of the women, who were naked to the waist; but they did not appear to mind. Their singing and dancing seemed effortless and, obviously, they were enjoying every moment of it. Never, Gregory thought, had he seen such happy people. When the show was over he shook every one of them by thee hand. Unabashed, the men who had a few words of English cried, `Welcome! Welcome! Come again, yes. Big pleasure see you,' and gave him friendly pats on the shoulder.

  At a loss how to express his appreciation to the Chief, Gregory asked him to accept his handkerchief. It was a large square of gaily patterned rough silk, a speciality of Beale and Inman in Bond Street, and had cost two pounds. The old man was delighted and, not to be outdone, insisted on presenting him with a dozen beautiful, highly polished shells.

  He accompanied them down to their speed boat and had his men carry them out to it, then smilingly waved them away. Suddenly it had clouded over and on their way back began to rain. By the time they got home they were drenched, but the rain was so warm they laughed about it. They were wearing only the lightest garments, so within ten minutes they had dried themselves and changed, to sit down to a lunch of paw paws, delicious, fresh caught crabs, and mangoes from trees in the garden.

  The following morning they swam with glass masked snorkels out to the reef. Twenty feet down, the undersea garden provided a wonderful scene of colourful activity. Between the coral fans flitted shoals of tiny brilliant blue fish, and hundreds of big prawns. Occasionally there came into view bigger fellows, red, rainbow striped, and dead black octopuses with gently waving tentacles, sea slugs and hermit crabs. Later the speed boat swiftly circled the bay, trailing them in turn behind it on a surfboard. Gregory had mastered the art many years before in the South of France, and Manon was an expert.

  For a week they enjoyed themselves immensely. To reach Tujoa, Gregory intended to charter a small, private aircraft; and if he was to be there by the time the salvaging machinery was expected he would have to leave Manon within the next two days. Until he raised the subject she had wisely held her fire. At the time they were sunbathing on the beach. Rolling over so that she could lie upon him, she looked down into his eyes and said:

  `My love be sensible. As you are so rich, why in the name of God should you risk your life just for the chance of bringing up treasure? If you continue to thwart Lacost and his gang you will be risking your life; make no mistake about it. I'm not suggesting that you should let James down. By all means provide him with the money to go ahead. But let him do it on his own.'

  Gregory was greatly tempted to agree. Their long, happy days in the sunshine, swimming lazily in the warm sea, where an infinity of new sights could be seen among the rocks below: the starlit nights and love in the arms of a woman who was always willing but never pressed him beyond his own desires was as near Paradise as anything he had known since he had lost Erika. After all, he could easily send money to James; and why should he chance getting himself killed on Tujoa when he could continue this blissful existence with Manon? Smiling up at her, he said:

  `I'll make no promises; still, I'll think about it.'

  But next morning a small, chuffing steamer dropped anchor off the main island. Shortly afterwards a native in a canoe arrived with Manon's mail, a week old copy of the

  Fiji Times and a cable for Gregory. It was from James and read:

  French Resident here insists permit required to salvage from wreck and ten per cent findings payable to Government stop proceeding Noumea but application cannot be made in company's name without producing articles stop suggest you meet me Noumea eleventh.

  It was then the 8th and from Fiji too long a flight to be risked in a small, chartered aircraft. Even if Gregory left at once it might be several days before he could catch a connection. He had the Articles of Association with him but they had not yet been signed. Without them, James could get no further. Reluctantly he told Manon that he now had no option but to leave her. She begged him to take her with him. He pointed out that to get to New Caledonia he might first have to fly down to Australia, and said that it was pointless for her to make such a journey simply to be with him when he signed a few documents; but he promised to send for her as soon as he got to Tujoa. With that she had to be content.

  That afternoon he left in the motor cruiser for Lautoka. There, as he had thought probable, to get to Noumea he would first have to fly down to Sydney, but, fortunately, the weekly QANTAS flight was due in next morning, and Hunt's got him a seat on it.

  By Wednesday evening he was in Sydney. The heat there was even more sweltering than in Fiji, as the city lacked the cool breezes that made winter in the islands pleasant, provided one did not go out during the hottest hours of the day.

  He had to wait two days there, but on the 12th an aircraft landed him at Toutouta airport on the south coast of New Caledonia. The airport was forty kilometres from the capital so, during the drive, he had ample time to form an impression of the eastern end of the island. The scenery could not have been more unlike that of Fiji. There was no lush vegetation, no riot of colourful flowering shrubs, no neat villages of thatched bures. Only an occasional palm was to be seen and, had it not been for the heat, no one would have taken it for an island in the tropics.

  The road, which was excellent, curved away from the sea through sparsely populated valleys between high, rolling hills that, in the distance, merged into mountains. It was no doubt this resemblance to the wilder parts of Scotland that had caused Captain Cook, when in the 1770s he had discovered the 250 mile long, cigar shaped island, to christen it New Caledonia.

  The lower slopes were sparsely wooded by one variety of nearly leafless tree, which made the scene monotonous. Here and there, higher up, there were la
rge patches of what looked like copper coloured sand. These, Gregory's driver told him, were the nickel mines, the deposits of which were the richest in the world, and made New Caledonia a wealthy country.

  On entering Noumea, the greater part of which stood on high land overlooking five large and one small bay, Gregory saw the huge factory that smelted the mineral. The chimneys belched clouds of reddish smoke, the deposit from which had coloured the roofs of the nearby buildings and the ships at the adjacent wharf in the first bay. The driver said the smoke was poisonous, but the Societe de Nickel contributed ninety per cent of the country's revenue and its position was so powerful that it could ignore all appeals to spend the large sum necessary to purify the surrounding atmosphere, and paid such high wages that it never lacked for labour. But, fortunately, the great plant was on the down wind side of the town; so only the people living in its immediate vicinity were affected.

  A mile further on they entered the town centre and Gregory bade his driver pull up in the big, tree shaded main square, at the Tourist Office. There he telephoned several of the best hotels and located James at the Nouvata. Returning to his car, he was driven past the Baie de la Moselle, on the north side of which lies the port, then uphill across the base of a sizeable peninsula, along the shore of the even larger Baie d'Orphelinat. The southern side of the bay was indented by quite a small one that his driver told him was called Fisherman's Bay. In it there lay at anchor many privately owned vessels of various sizes and, beyond them, a battleship. The driver added that the Yacht Club was situated there and that the big building high up on the point was the Naval Headquarters.

  Again the road left the sea front but, half a mile further on returned to it, skirting the Baie des Citrons a pleasant suburb where a number of typically French villas looked out across the road to long bathing beaches. Turning inland, they crossed the base of yet another peninsula, to come out on the last great bay, Ansa Vata. About half way along it they passed a two storey building set in an attractive garden, in which the flags of half a dozen nations fluttered from flag poles. The driver said it was the headquarters of the South Pacific Commission. Two minutes later, the car at last pulled up before the Hotel Nouvata.

  Entering, Gregory found that most of the ground floor consisted of a restaurant and a large, circular bar. Beyond them lay a garden and swimming pool, round which fifty or more people, mostly in bikinis or bathing trunks, were enjoying drinks at tables under big, striped umbrellas. James was among them. On catching sight of Gregory, he jumped to his feet to greet him with delight.

  Over dinner they discussed the situation. So far there had been no sign in Tujoa of Lacost and his friends; but, James having informed his Council of Elders that definite plans for the exploration of the wreck had been made, evidently Commandant Elboeuf, the elderly French Resident, had come to hear of it and had then proved obstructive. To start with, he had asserted that any treasure trove was the property of the French Government, but later, when James had insisted on seeing the text of this law, it had transpired that if a licence to search was obtained and the licensee paid all expenses, only ten per cent of the value of any treasure found would have to go to the Government. As Elboeuf was an old, and normally indolent, man, James was of the opinion that he had been gingered into this activity by Roboumo, the witchdoctor, who was most averse to any modernisation being introduced into the island.

  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 Ribaud, 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 General, 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 exColons 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 Maua 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 Carvaffio 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 Chateau 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.'