Night Of Error

by Desmond Bagley

  'Yes. And you're from – Cornwall. You talk the same way Mark did. I used to tease him about that sometimes.'

  Which of course put their relationship on a firmer footing.

  'Where did you meet him?'

  'In Tahiti. I was working a little joint in Papeete. Mark used to come in with his sidekick, and we got pretty – friendly.'

  'Who was his sidekick?'

  'A Swedish guy, Sven someone. But this was, oh, maybe two years ago when we first met.'

  About the time he left Campbell, I calculated. I said, 'I'm interested in how Mark came to die. Can you tell me anything about it – if it doesn't distress you too much.'

  'Oh, that's all right,' she said, but it was a tremulous voice. 'I can't tell you a lot. He died of appendicitis out in the Paumotus – didn't you know that?'

  'Yes – but how did you know?'

  'I didn't believe it at first, but they let me see the death certificate.'

  'Who are "they"? Who told you in the first place?'

  'A schooner came in with the news. And I went down to the Government bureau to see the proof. You see, I thought he might have – just – gone away.'

  'Did the doctor come to Papeete himself, the one who operated on Mark?'

  She shook her head. 'Not much point, was there? I mean, it's over two hundred miles and he's the only doctor out there. He wouldn't leave just to bring the news back.'

  This clashed with Kane's story; according to him the doctor had dealt with the certificate and the authorities. Or had he? I thought back to what Kane had said – that he and his partner, Hadley, had left it all to the doctor. Perhaps it only meant sending the papers back on the next convenient transport.

  I said, 'Did you know the men on the schooner?'

  She was silent for a bit and then said, 'Why are you asking me all these questions, Mr Trevelyan?'

  'I could say out of natural interest in the death of my only brother, but I won't,' I said deliberately. 'I think there's something very odd about the whole affair.' As I said it I suddenly wondered if she was a plant – one of the spies of Ramirez of whom Campbell so often warned me. If so I'd already dealt a hand I should rather have hidden, and I felt cold at the thought. But it was very hard to imagine this girl as a crook's agent.

  'You think he was murdered, don't you?' she asked flatly.

  I tightened my lips. Time for a quick decision, and I thought that I may as well continue. It was already too late to do otherwise. 'You think so too, Miss Nelson?'

  There was a long pause before she nodded. 'Yes,' she whispered, and started to cry. I felt better, for some reason -she was ruining her makeup, and surely no spy would do that, not just before making a public appearance?

  I let her run on for a little while, then took her hand in mine.

  'You were living with Mark, weren't you?'

  'Yes, I was. Oh God, I loved him,' she said. She was so intense, her grip tightening, that I felt I must believe her.

  'Were you happy with him?' I asked. 'Was he good to you, Miss Nelson?'

  Amazingly, a smile appeared. 'Oh, I was. Please – don't call me Miss Nelson. My name is Paula.'

  'And I'm Mike.'

  We were silent for a few moments, then I said, 'What really happened, Paula?'

  She said, 'I suppose it all started when Sven was killed'

  'Norgaard? Killed!'

  'Yes. He was found out on the reef, outside Papeete, with his head bashed in. At first everyone thought it was the sea – it comes in with tremendous force against the reef. They thought he'd been washed off his feet and had his head smashed on the rocks. Then – I don't know exactly how – they decided he'd been murdered. It was something to do with what the police surgeon found.'

  I nodded grimly. 'Then what happened?'

  'The police were asking questions and they came to Mark. He said he knew nothing about it, but it didn't seem to worry him.'

  I took a deep breath. 'Paula, do you think that Mark killed Sven?'

  She hesitated, then shook her head violently. 'No, it couldn't have been Mark. I know he could get very angry -even violent – but he couldn't have killed Sven. They were partners.'

  I had experienced some of Mark's violence, in my younger days.

  'Paula, did he ever hit you?'

  She looked down at the table, nodding. 'Sometimes – but I'm hell to live with. I'm untidy and sloppy about housework. I'm' She laughed, but the laugh broke off on a sob and tears rolled down her cheeks. I was appalled.

  'What happened then?'

  'Mark ran away. He ran from the police. I don't mean literally, not the day they spoke to him, but that night he disappeared from Tahiti. And then we heard that he was dead – I've already told you exactly how that was.'

  'Who brought the news of his death – in that schooner?'

  'It was a man called Hadley – he brought the news. He said that he and his partner had found Mark dying out in the islands.' She had the look of nervousness back, and I thought that it may have been caused by her mention of Hadley.

  But I had more important things to think about. This was the break – this was the evidence that showed Kane to be a downright liar. There could have been an honest mistake about the death certificate, but not about this. Kane had told me that he and Hadley had left things to the doctor. This was the crack in his story.

  I said, 'Hadley's partner – was it a man called Kane?'

  'I don't know, I never met him. I knew Hadley, though; he came to visit Mark often.'

  The devil he did!' I ejaculated. This was a new development.

  'Oh sure. Mark and Sven used to hire Hadley's boat and go off for weeks at a time with him.'

  'You've no idea where they went, I suppose?' I said casually.

  'Mark never talked to me about what he did,' she said.

  'There's just one more thing, but it's very important. You said you thought Mark had been murdered. What led you to think that?'

  'It was Hadley,' she said. 'He came to my place and said he wanted Mark's things. The way he talked about Mark – he was so triumphant. I didn't see any reason why he should have Mark's stuff so I gave him the air. He was mad about it but he couldn't do anything then because I had friends with me. But he scared me – he's a bad bastard. I looked at Mark's case and there wasn't anything there that would do me any good, so I sent it home to his wife. Mark talked about her to me.' There was pain in her voice. 'He talked about you too – he wasn't very nice about you.'

  'I can imagine. Did Hadley try again?'

  'Yes. He came and beat the living daylights out of me and searched my place but of course there wasn't anything there.'

  'You mean – he beat you up?'

  'Oh brother, you ought to have seen the shiner I had.' She looked at me gravely. 'You don't know much about men like Hadley, do you?'

  'Not yet,' I said grimly. 'But I soon will. I'm going to catch up with that bastard.'

  She laughed scornfully. 'He'd tear you in half, Mike. Be careful of him – don't come at him from the front, club him down from behind. He'd do the same to you. He's an uncivilized savage.'

  I looked at this girl who talked of brawls and beatings so matter-of-factly. No wonder she had that permanently shrinking air – or perhaps it was her manner which attracted violence in the first place. 'I'll remember that.'

  She sighed. 'Well, then I got real scared because I said too much. You know what I said? I said I had proof that he was lying – that Mark hadn't died the way he said. He looked at me in a real funny way and said he'd be back – with friends. So I packed a few things and got out. I stayed with someone else the rest of the night and next morning there was a trading schooner leaving for Panama at five o'clock and I was aboard by four. I kept below deck until Papeete was out of sight.'

  'What was your proof, Paula?'

  She said what I guessed she was going to say. 'Mark already had his appendix out. I saw the scar. He couldn't have died that way.'

  'I knew about that too. Mark
had his appendix out years ago.'

  Paula looked at her watch and jumped to her feet. She still looked ravaged but she seemed a little calmer now. 'I have to get back.'

  Thanks, Paula. You've helped me a lot. Do you think that Hadley killed Mark and Sven Norgaard?'

  'I do,' she said intensely.

  'Have you any idea why he should?'

  She shrugged. 'No idea-but I'm sure he did it.'

  'Paula, before I leave here – will you write down what you know for me?'

  'I – I guess so, Mike. I – have to be careful.'

  She wouldn't come into the hotel lounge with me so I went in alone ahead of her and found Geordie sitting talking to Clare. 'Pop's gone to bed,' she said. 'It's late and he gets tired.'

  'I hope Geordie's been entertaining you all right.'

  'Oh yes, he's been telling me more about Mark – and you.'

  I said lightly, 'I thought I felt my ears burning.'

  I saw Paula join the trio. In the dim lounge lighting one could not see any trace of disarray and she began to sing in the same pleasant, husky voice. 'Nice voice she's got,' said Clare casually. v I saw they were both looking at her.

  'How was your assignation?' asked Geordie.

  'Interesting.'

  A mischievous smile played briefly on Clare's mouth. 'We saw you escorting her out of the foyer.'

  'Her name is P. Nelson,' I said. Geordie choked over his coffee.

  I put Clare in the picture regarding the name, then said, 'She's had a lot to tell me, all fascinating. She thinks that Mark was murdered, and his partner Norgaard too – oh yes, he's dead. And she thinks they were both killed by Hadley, this mystery partner of Kane's. But the concensus of opinion in Tahiti seems to be that Mark killed Norgaard – that's the official police view – and that Mark died by accident while on the run. It's a hell of a mess.'

  'Good God,' said Geordie. 'What's she doing here?'

  'Ran away from Hadley. I'll fill you all in in the morning. I'm tired.'

  It seemed an age since we had come sailing into Panama, only that morning.

  Clare looked over towards Paula, who was still singing.

  'How well did she know Mark?'

  'Pretty well,' I said unthinkingly. 'She was another of Mark's popsies.'

  And could have bitten my tongue out the moment I spoke.

  Next morning at breakfast Campbell came down with a cable. He frowned as he read it. 'Suarez-Navarro have started to move,' he said. 'Their ship has left Darwin, bound for New Guinea.'

  Geordie said, 'The Bismarck Archipelago is up that way too.'

  'What's that got to do with it?'

  'We forgot to tell you,' I said. 'Kane sent a cable yesterday, to Rabaul, which is in the Archipelago.'

  'Kane – maybe to Ramirez, telling him where you are. Would your nodule deposit be anywhere up near Rabaul?' asked Campbell.

  'There's nothing against it and a few things for it,' I said. 'Though personally I think Mark wouldn't have been so far away from where it is. But from what I could gather from the notebooks Mark was linking nodule formation with vulcan-ism, and there's a hell of a lot of volcanoes in that part of the world.'

  'Not here?'

  'Oh yes, all over the Pacific. I'm going to explain that to you when my own ideas are clearer.'

  'Do you think he was right in that theory?' said Campbell.

  'I don't know,' I admitted. 'It's all very theoretical. There's nothing against it in principle.'

  Campbell muttered, 'When I get an unqualified answer from a scientist I suppose the world will be coming to an end. Now, what's all this about the girl last night? Clare's told me a little.'

  So I filled them all in and we sat back, aghast and disturbed by the implications in Paula's story. We were running into something which got steadily nastier. Campbell approved of my wanting her evidence written down, preferably legally attested, though I wasn't sure if she would commit herself so far.

  Clare said, changing the subject, 'Mike, I've been giving the diary some thought and especially the drawings, and I think I've come up with something. Can we all go up to Pop's suite after breakfast?'

  Geordie assented reluctantly. He was anxious to get back to his ship, but we persuaded him that all would be well for a couple of hours more. They're good lads, plenty to do and they know where you are if they want you,' I said firmly. So after breakfast we found ourselves seated round a coffee table in the suite, already sweating gently in spite of the air conditioning, and with the sunshine of Panama calling to us through the open windows. Clare laid out the diary and tracings in front of us.

  'I've been working backwards, from where we know Mark was, to see if we can identify any more of the drawings. The very last one is what looks like a monocle, and I think I know what it is – but only because we do know where Mark was. I think it means Tahiti.'

  'How the hell can it mean Tahiti?' said Campbell.

  'They're also known as the Society Islands. And a monocle is the epitome of the uppercrust, the "society" bloke. It's lean, but could it do?' She looked anxiously for my opinion.

  I laughed. 'As well as anything. Crude but effective. Go on.'

  'Numbers 31 and 30 I can't see at all – perhaps Geordie might, if he knows the area well. One's a cow and one's a -well, it's this.' She pointed to an object like an irregular, flattened semicircle standing on a flat base. It was connected to the cow with the word 'OR', and made no sense at all to any of us.

  'Then we come to these. The Fair Goddess and The Disappearing Trick, a woman and an eagle.'

  I interrupted her. They are the two that come immediately before his high cobalt assay figures. I think they may be crucial.'

  'Good,' she said briskly. 'Because there are lots more possibilities. I've been thinking about the woman. I think she could be La France – you know, Uncle Sam for America, John Bull for Britain and this female – Marianne – for France. You see her in newspaper cartoons.'

  Campbell looked at the drawing intently. 'You may have something there. This thing on her head is the Cap of Liberty, isn't it? What's the extent of French territory in the Pacific?'

  'French Oceania – about a million square miles of it, including Tahiti, Bora-Bora, the Tuamotus, the Marquesas, the Austral Islands. You'd have to get it down much closer than that.'

  The Marianas Islands,' said Geordie and he sounded very glum. 'The Marianas Trench.'

  Clare looked thrilled. 'Where are they?'

  'A long way off, too far for comfort. Almost alongside the Philippines,' I said. 'It just can't be there, or else why was Mark so far away from it? I don't believe it.'

  But Geordie had thought of something else. 'Suarez-Navarro's ship is heading that way.'

  We looked at one another in dismay. 'Just doesn't feel right,' I said, only because I didn't want it to be. 'We want something down this way.'

  Campbell said, 'What's this about a goddess? Marianne isn't one.'

  'Let's go through a list of goddesses,' I suggested. There's Venus for a start. Is there a Venus Island?'

  Geordie grinned. 'I've heard of the Good Ship Venus, but not an island. Wait a minute, though – there's a Venus Point in Tahiti.'

  That sounds promising,' said Campbell.

  'It's too close ashore – and all round there has been dredged.'

  'Not so promising,' said Campbell glumly, 'but we'll keep it in mind.'

  'Let's carry on with the goddess list,' said Clare. 'What about Aphrodite?'

  We all thought about that. 'Nothing doing,' said Geordie finally.

  'It could be a French name,' said Campbell.

  I was brutal about it. 'Or a Polynesian name. Or a Polynesian goddess.'

  'Good grief,' said Campbell, 'we're getting nowhere fast.'

  We ran through the pantheon and couldn't even make a start on the Polynesian tribal deities without a single degree in anthropology amongst us. We switched our combined brains to the problem of the eagle, got nowhere, and came back to La France. Clare
gazed fiercely at the drawings. 'All right, one last try. Let's go through it all once more.'

  We all groaned.

  'Venus.'

  'Tahiti,' muttered Campbell, whose attention was waning.

  'Demeter.'

  Still nothing doing.

  'Athena.'

  Campbell said, 'I think this whole whacky idea is wrong. Let's pack it up.'

  Clare gave a shout of laughter. 'I've got it – she's not La France at all, she's Athena, the goddess of justice. Mark used "fair" in the sense of "fair play".'

  'Not that he knew much about that,' Geordie said.

  'What about the Cap of Liberty?' I asked.

  'It's not – it's a Roman helmet. She ought to have a spear too.'

  'But Athena wasn't a Roman,' objected Campbell. 'She was a Greek goddess.'

  I said, 'The Roman equivalent was Minerva – what about that?'

  Geordie thumped the table and burst out laughing. 'My God! I think that's it – I should have seen it before. Recife de Minerve, of course!'

  Campbell said, 'You mean there is such a place?'

  I was struggling with a memory. I'd read about the place and there was something very out of whack about it, but I couldn't recall what it was. Geordie couldn't stop laughing. 'There's been a shipwreck on it. Oh, this is too damn funny.'

  Campbell rubbed his hands, his interest rekindled. 'Now we're getting somewhere – where is it? Obviously down this way?'

  'Down south of the Tuamotus,' said Geordie.

  'Is it worth a trip?' Campbell asked me. 'You're the expert here.'

  I thought that it was only a remote possibility that we'd hit on the right spot on our very first guess, and that there'd probably be a lot of false alarms on the way, unless some much more concrete evidence came up; but on the other hand I didn't want the expedition to founder through lack of either activity or enthusiasm – and we had to start somewhere. 'It could have possibilities,' I said, voicing a little of my reservation. 'It partly depends on where it is, which is what Geordie's going to tell us.'

  'Are you kidding?' said Geordie, still spluttering over his private joke. 'Nobody – not even the Royal Navy – knows where Minerva is.'