The White Witch of the South Seas gs-11

by Dennis Wheatley

  Suddenly one of the Colons cried, `Listen! Motor boats are coming in our direction.'

  Another laughed. `You fool. It is only the fishermen going out to spear fish.'

  `Not at this hour,' the first man snapped. `Listen, I say! Listen! There are many boats heading towards us. I swear it!'

  A sudden silence fell. The roar made by the engines of the flotilla could now be heard by everyone. One of the Colons shouted, `Look! I can see them! Four! No, six eight a dozen.'

  The man who had wanted to abandon Lacost yelled, `We are betrayed. We are betrayed. I sensed it. We should have left at once.'

  Another, more resolute and commanding, voice took over. `Keep calm. Provided we can prevent them from boarding us, we'll get away.'

  Lacost's voice came urgent, pleading. `For God's sake, save me. Throw the woman down into the boat and I'll climb aboard somehow.'

  James cut into his plea by shouting to Olinda in English, `Pretend you have fainted. Slide down on the deck and lie there, then none of these brutes will harm you.'

  Ignoring Lacost's appeal, the man who had taken charge bellowed, `Jean! To the bridge! Run! Give her full speed ahead and we'll outdistance them. Raoul! To the forward capstan! Get the anchor up. We drag it till it's in.'

  In spite of the almost total darkness beyond the area lit by the light of the yacht, the phosphorescent bow waves, churned up by the leading boats of the flotilla, could now be seen as they rushed swiftly towards the prow and midships of the Boa Viagem.

  Suddenly her engines began to throb. But she made no movement. Gregory's strategem had worked. Both her propellers turned, but, clogged by a mass of netting and wire, were unable to force her forward.

  As the boats came alongside, the men in them were shouting war cries that had not been used for a generation. Throwing their grapples on to the rails of the yacht, they swarmed up the ropes on to the deck. A machine gun opened fire, Sten guns clattered, the staccato crack of dozens of rifles pierced the din.

  Gregory grasped the bow of the motor boat and hauled himself, dripping, into it. James had been holding Lacost in front of him, one hand round his waist, the other clutching his throat. Letting him go for a moment he pulled a pistol from his pocket and, as Lacost lurched forward, hit him a hard blow with it on the back of the head. The Frenchman gave a gasp, staggered for an instant, then fell forward, unconscious, on the deck.

  At Gregory's appearance, James cried, `Well done Well done! It must be your work that prevents the yacht moving and getting away from us.'

  Gregory nodded. `Yes, I fouled her propellers. Now our chaps are aboard, the Colons don't stand an earthly chance.'

  `Praise be! A thousand times I bless you!' James responded in great excitement. `But Olinda is up there on deck. I must get her. And my men are fighting. I must show myself to them.'

  With a gesture that embraced the coxswain, Kalabo and Gregory, he added, `Come, all of you. Up on to the deck and show these swinish Frenchmen that we are not afraid of them.'

  Jumping at the stern rail of the Boa Viagem, he seized it low down and scrambled up. Kalabo and his coxswain followed him. But Gregory did not. He was no longer young and his efforts to foul the propellers of the yacht had exhausted him. Staggering to the stern of the boat, he collapsed on to a seat and remained there, his head in his hands and lolling forward so that it was only a few inches above his knees.

  As he strove to regain his breath and still the violent beating of his heart, he thought, `We've got Lacost, the yacht can't move and it's certain there won't be any serious resistance. This is James' show. He no longer needs my help. I'll leave him to handle it now, then he'll get all the credit for rescuing Olinda.'

  From Olinda his thoughts drifted to the White Witch. Instantly he jerked erect and, sitting rigid, stared wide eyed into the darkness. A sudden flash of memory had recalled to him the occasion when he had first heard the White Witch mentioned.

  It had been in Brazil at the beginning of the Great Rain on the night that he had first met Manon. They had gone to the Macumba ceremony, then taken refuge in the Macumba priest's bungalow. He had cast the bones for Manon told her that she would have a new lover and was already involved with one with whom she was concerned in a financial transaction. He had gone on to ask her if she had ever killed anybody, and she had admitted that she had. Then he had told her that a White Witch would cross her path and that she must kill again. Unless she killed the White Witch when she had the chance, her life and all her hopes would be ruined.

  His brain reeling, Gregory forced himself to his feet. He had left the White Witch unconscious and in Manon's power. He must return at once. But would he be in time to save her?

  21 ?A Fateful Dawn

  His tiredness forgotten, Gregory made for the bow of the boat. To get to it he had to step over Lacost's unconscious body which lay sprawled face downward on the deck. On reaching the bow, he fumbled frantically to undo the painter that kept the nose of the boat close up under the Boa Via gem's stern. As he was no seaman, he found the knots intricate and the pull from the rocking boat had tightened them. Moreover, splashes of water had made the rope wet. Cursing, Gregory tore at the knot. A good three minutes passed before, at the cost of two broken fingernails, he had managed to undo it.

  Jumping back over Lacost's prostrate body, he reached the stern, switched on the boat's engine and flung the gear into reverse. His thoughts were now miles from the Boa Viagem, away up in the Royal bure, with Manon and the Witch; so he was aware only subconsciously that the firing above had ceased.

  As the boat backed away, James appeared at the stern rail of the yacht, with Olinda beside him. `What the devil are you doing?' he called to Gregory. `Why have you cast off?'

  Gregory made no reply, switched the gear into neutral and gave the wheel a sharp twist that brought the boat round broadside on.

  James, thinking that he was about to nose in again, cried in excited triumph, `It's all over! One dead and the others prisoners. Bring her under the stern and I'll lower Olinda to you:

  To his astonishment, instead of complying, Gregory pushed the gear lever into full speed ahead and again gave a twist to the wheel. The boat leapt forward, churning up great sheets of spray on either side of the bow and curving round in a wide half circle until she was heading for the port.

  In vain James shouted after him. Gregory had forgotten the very existence of the yacht. His mind was in a turmoil. The White Witch had been heavily drugged. He had been convinced that Roboumo would not have given her a dose that was likely to kill her or deliberately have poisoned her. He would never have done that as long as he had the faintest hope of keeping her as his prisoner, so that, through the natives' fear of her, he could continue to exercise his evil power. But people had often been known to die of an overdose of a normally harmless drug. If Manon also recalled the Macumba priest's prediction, and decided to poison the Witch, she could get away with it. Everyone would believe that the Witch had died as a result of Roboumo's drug.

  And Manon had the means to poison at hand. The sweat broke out on Gregory's forehead as he remembered the ring she always wore the so called Borgia ring the secret of which she had revealed to him in Rio. In his mind's eye he could see her again now, sitting on the side of his bed and showing how, if pressed, a hidden spring caused the big amethyst to slide back, revealing a hollow in which there lay a cyanide of potassium pellet. _

  The first grey light preceding dawn had begun to lighten the scene while the fracas on the yacht was in progress. By the time Gregory was halfway to the harbour the light had increased perceptibly. Suddenly he noticed a movement in the fore part of the boat. Peering forward, he saw Lacost struggle up into a sitting position. Evidently his thick yellow hair had prevented his being put out for more than ten or twelve minutes after the blow on the head James had. given him with his pistol. He was now coming round.

  Gregory gave vent to the unprintable Italian oath which he used only on very rare occasions. This was hell's own luck. At
the speed the boat was going he dared not leave the wheel, even for a minute, in order to knock Lacost out again. He could only pray to all his gods that the big Frenchman would not be sufficiently recovered to attack him before they reached harbour.

  While the boat roared on, bumping abruptly as it lifted over small waves, Gregory kept a wary eye on his dangerous passenger. Another five minutes passed, and he had good reason to believe that his worst fears were to be realised. Lacost lurched to his feet and, swaying slightly, stood staring at him across the cabin roof.

  His anxiety on account of the Witch was now replaced by a more immediate one. What was he to do if Lacost did rush him? The automatic he had brought, anticipating that he would take part in the capture of the yacht, was in the cabin with his clothes. A swift glance round had shown him that no weapon, such as an iron bar or a marlin spike, with which he could defend himself, was in sight. Worst handicap of all for any man in a fight, he was still stark naked.

  Lacost took a shuffling step towards him. Gregory knew now that he stood no chance of rounding the mole and bringing the boat alongside the wharf, where he could have shouted for help, before the murderous Colon would be upon him. Again his thoughts flashed for a second to what might be taking place up at the Royal bure, and the urgency of getting there. But he knew that his best chance of overcoming Lacost lay in tackling him before he had recovered the full use of his wits. With agonised reluctance he pulled the boat's gear lever over, bringing her down to half speed.

  At that moment Lacost stopped to pick up something from the deck. Gregory's heart missed a beat, for he felt certain that his enemy had found a weapon; but as Lacost came upright again he was holding two sheets of paper. He had stumbled on the licence to salvage the treasure and its transfer to himself which James had signed while Gregory was fouling the propellers of the yacht.

  Gregory swore beneath his breath. Should Lacost succeed in overcoming him that would now mean a double defeat. Not only would the Frenchman be able to get away in the motor cruiser to some other island, but, if he was ever caught, the possession of those documents could enable him to plead justification for having fired on the gendarmes.

  Lacost pushed the papers into his jacket pocket and moved a step nearer. `It is now or never,' Gregory decided. `He is just near enough for me to jump him.' Stretching out a hand, he switched off the engine.

  Guessing his intention, Lacost stepped quickly back, at the same time thrusting a hand into his trouser docket. Next moment he had withdrawn it, holding a jack knife. With a swift movement he flicked it open. By now there was light enough for Gregory to see his face clearly. Under his long moustache his slightly protruding teeth showed in a sardonic smile.

  Although Gregory had been tensed to spring, his enemy's quick retreat had given him pause. The flash of the knife had deterred him altogether. Naked as he was, he knew that it would now be suicidal to attack Lacost unarmed.

  For the first time the Frenchman spoke. `Fate has favoured me, after all, Monsieur Sallust. It is you who have been the ruin of my enterprise. Temporarily at least I have lost the treasure; although later, now that I have the necessary documents, I may yet appoint nominees to put in for me a legal claim to it. But at least I'll have thee satisfaction of settling with you. When we met in Guatemala I recall you said that, should occasion arise, you would take pleasure in throwing me to the sharks. Now it is I who will throw you to the sharks. The smell of the blood that will flow after I've stuck my knife in your stomach will bring them racing to you.'

  As he ceased speaking he made a sudden rush at Gregory. Abandoning the wheel of the now slowly rocking boat, Gregory dodged to the port side of the cabin roof. Lacost followed, hurling blasphemies at him. Three times they sped round the roof. The tall Frenchman had the longer stride, but Gregory the greater agility and, being barefooted, a firmer purchase on the deck. The chase ended with them on either side of the low roof, panting for breath and glaring at each other.

  Suddenly Lacost sprung on to the roof. A wave caused the boat to tilt a little. He staggered, but regained his balance.

  For a moment he stood there, huge and menacing, a towering bulky figure outlined against the pale light of the predawn sky. Then, his boots thudding on the cabin roof, in three strides he was across it.

  The movement was so sudden that Gregory had no chance to jump aside and, had he turned, Lacost would have knifed him in the back. Lowering his head, he threw himself forward and butted the Frenchman in the stomach. Lacost gave a choking gasp and somersaulted over Gregory's shoulders, but the impact of his heavy body brought them both crashing to the deck.

  Winded and retching, Lacost doubled up; but he still grasped the jack knife. Gregory struck the wrist above it a savage blow with the hard edge of his right hand. The knife tinkled against a grating and slithered away. Clutching wildly at one another, they rolled across the deck.

  They brought up against the stern seat, Lacost on top. Pressed down by the Frenchman's weight, Gregory could not wriggle from underneath him. Making a great effort, he kneed him in the groin. Lacost gave a groan, but there was not sufficient force behind the stroke to disable him. A moment later he had his hands round Gregory's throat. In vain Gregory tried to break the hold. His chest felt as though an iron band were being screwed tight about it. There came a singing in his ears. Making the first and second fingers of his right hand rigid, he jabbed desperately with them at the Frenchman's eyes. One finger went home. Lacost gave a scream of pain. Letting go of Gregory's throat, he rolled off him.

  Gregory staggered to his feet. Lacost lurched to his and, although half blinded, came at him again. Seizing Gregory round the waist in a bear like hug, he lifted him from his feet and strove to throw him overboard. Being much the weaker, Gregory knew that he was now at his enemy's mercy. It could be only a matter of minutes before his breath would be squeezed out of his body.,

  Suddenly there came to him a way in which he might possibly save himself. When the fight had started, the last two long strands of wire which were left because he had not had the time to make the net fouling the port propeller more secure had still been looped round his neck with the ends hanging down his back. During his wrestle. with Lacost on the deck one of them had fallen off; but as he clung to his enemy, clutching his shoulders and with their faces pressed together, he could feel the bite of the remaining wire now under his chin.

  Releasing his hold on his antagonist with one hand at a time while continuing to cling to him with the other, he felt down over his shoulder until his fingers had found the wire. In turn, he pulled the ends of the wire up and jerked them forward so that they were hanging down behind Lacost's back instead of his own. Letting go of his enemy for a moment, but still clasped round the waist by him, he got his hands behind his neck, crossed the long ends of wire and pulled them together.

  Suddenly Lacost realised what was happening and made frantic efforts to thrust Gregory from him. But, with his legs now round the Frenchman's waist and his hands behind his head, Gregory succeeded in clinging to him. As the garrotte tightened, Lacost gasped. His eyes started to bulge. Ceasing his attempts to throw Gregory overboard, he staggered round, lurched forward and attempted to crush him against the cabin roof. But he could no longer draw breath. The strength was seeping from his great limbs. Gregory gave a savage jerk on the two ends of the wire, so that their loop cut into Lacost's throat, then twisted them over one another. He began to make a horrible gurgling noise. Only seconds later his grasp of Gregory relaxed. His arms fell to his sides, he heeled over and slumped on to the deck, bringing Gregory down with him.

  Gregory was underneath, his muscles aching intolerably and sobbing for breath. It was minutes before he had regained sufficient strength to push Lacost off and stagger to his feet. In the dawn light the Frenchman's face was going purple. Gregory did not want him to die there, but to stand trial for his crimes and go to the guillotine. As he could always tighten the garrotte again before Lacost was in any condition to renew the fight, h
e eased it a little; just enough for the Frenchman to draw painful breaths.

  The struggle had ended near the stern of the boat. As Gregory moved to switch on the engine, his glance fell on the ' other length of wire. Picking it up, he used it to secure Lacost's hands behind his back. Then he eased the garrotte a little more and firmly tied the ends of the wire that formed it to a cleat. Without the use of his hands Lacost could not free himself from the garrotte, and should he attempt to get to his feet it would strangle him.

  Within another two minutes the fact that he had so recently been fighting for his life had passed from Gregory's mind. As the boat again surged through the water, now not far from the extremity of the mole, his mind had once more become obsessed by the question of what Manon had done, or might do, to the Witch, up in the Royal bure.

  Rounding the mole he brought the boat alongside the wharf and hastily tied her up. Lacost, blood seeping from his neck where the wire had cut into it, lay unmoving. The only people about were a few early rising longshoremen and none of them was near; but if he could manage to shout for help, that might bring one of them to the boat. Anyone finding him would be sure to fall for a story that he had been set upon by robbers, and would release him. To prevent such a happening, greatly as Gregory grudged the time, he spent a few minutes taking precautions against it.

  While retrieving the papers from Lacost's pocket, he found a handkerchief in it and used that to gag him. Then, lest the gag in addition to the wire should cause him, after all, to die from suffocation, he again eased the wire until it was quite loose, but would still tighten if Lacost tried to sit up. Lastly, to conceal him from any passer by, Gregory flung over him a tarpaulin that was normally used to cover the stern end of the boat when she was not in use.

  Satisfied that the unscrupulous brute who had brought death and pain to many people would, in due course, meet his just deserts, Gregory dived into the cabin, remained there only to put on his trousers and shoes, scrambled ashore and set off at a run through the town.