A Hidden Heart of Fire

Home > Other > A Hidden Heart of Fire > Page 7
A Hidden Heart of Fire Page 7

by Edna Dawes


  “Better make it for two extra,” put in David. “We’ll be back. Concussion is a funny thing. I’d like to have another look at him in half an hour.”

  They went out on to the wooden veranda, filling the doorway as they passed through. Nancy ran after them to ask if she should prepare anything special for her uncle, but the question was never asked. As they ran lightly down the steps David, his voice raised to counteract the noise of the elements, shouted to Rod: “That’s Ben and Matt out of the way—there are only three left and we should be able to deal with them easily enough.”

  . . . By mid-morning Matt was pronounced on the mend, the storm had abated and serenity reigned over Wonara once more, but the men had decided against going out again. After the disturbed night and hectic morning, they hadn’t the energy for it. The accident to Matt had affected them all so much that it was not until Nancy asked about T’iang that Rod remembered the prisoners in the generator hut.

  He leapt up from the table, and several minutes later the native boys could he seen scampering like monkeys over the wire fence, unable to wait for Rod to unlock the gate. Maybe they had learnt their lesson!

  Soon after breakfast, Rod went across to the laboratory with Alec and Charlie, and David brought the boats back to the jetty and was now sitting in the sun outside his quarters.

  Ostensibly he was relaxing, with his eyes closed, but Nancy had the feeling he was watching her.

  She smiled to herself. He might watch her as much as he wished, but once he was back on his job and the boats had left the beach, she would be off!

  She changed into a bikini and went to sit on her favourite perch on the jetty, wishing she could talk things over with Ben. But there was no point in confiding in him when he was powerless to help. She had asked his assistance one afternoon, and look where he had ended up!

  That thought brought her face to face with the truth she shied from. Ben had submerged too deep and put himself in danger; Matt had dived into the sea too near the boat and had been thrown against the hull. Two natural, explainable accidents which everyone seemed to have accepted . . . and which she would have accepted, but for David’s comment as he left the bungalow. Two down—three to go, had been the gist of it, and the implication was obvious.

  No matter how she looked at it, the common denominator was Rod. In both cases, he had been beneath the sea with the other man . . . and no witnesses in sight! Oh, it would be easy! The memory of how he had barged her out of the way of the sea-snake before she realized what had hit her, showed how it could be done. He was a big man—strong, and an excellent swimmer underwater. In that turmoil this morning it would have taken less than a moment to push Matt into the side of the boat while pretending to help him.

  Both the injured men were in their fifties—twenty years older than Rod and not at their prime strength, as he was. Ben could have been lured into deeper water and kept there under the pretext of a trapped air cylinder. With all those snakes around, he would not have been all that observant of what Rod was doing.

  If it were true, it meant that Rod had stirred up those snakes deliberately, knowing she would panic and fetch Ben. She did not want to believe it. Accidents did happen, and those snakes were real enough. And Ben and Matt were Rod’s friends. But against all that was the one undeniable fact—Rod and David had lost interest in the two invalids and were preparing to concentrate on the remaining three.

  The puzzle was, which three? There were five other people on the station, and it could be computed in two different ways, as far as she could see.

  Sheila, Meg and herself as the three women, or Sheila, Alec and Charlie as the remaining working staff. The latter seemed the more likely . . . and, either way, Sheila Maitland looked to be in danger!

  With a savage jerk, Nancy flung herself off the landing-stage into the sea, enjoying the stinging contact of the water.

  Rod was not like that . . . he couldn’t be!

  And what about Jim Maitland? asked a niggling voice. Didn’t he dive to his death, alone and in mounting seas, because Rod had driven him to it?

  An extra large wave pushed her shorewards and for several minutes she let herself be thrown and dragged back like a piece of driftwood. It was what she wanted . . . to be mastered by a stronger force, so that she hadn’t to think for herself any longer.

  When the sun grew too hot, she made her way back to prepare a light lunch. The compound was hard beneath her feet once more, and the bungalows stood clean-cut and brown against the vivid green jungle outside the wire-mesh fence.

  “You left your things here.”

  Her head swung quickly towards the office. Rod was standing there, in shorts and white shirt which emphasized his healthy glow. There was no smile.

  “Your camera and jewellery are still on my bed.” He walked along the veranda and stood at the top of the steps, one foot below the other, as though waiting for her to go up.

  She stopped where she was.

  “I’m sorry you were frightened so badly last night. Perhaps I was not too sympathetic at the time. The fact is, I was flaming mad at not being able to deal with them as I would have liked,” he added.

  “That’s quite all right,” she said stiffly. “I realize you have important things on your mind. I’m grateful you recovered what was stolen.”

  “Will you collect them now?”

  “Yes, if you care to bring them out to me.”

  “Ben has been expecting you.”

  “Tell Ben I haven’t forgotten him.”

  “Right.” He went inside and returned with the camera and bracelets. “These are pretty,” he commented as he reached her. “You must have slender wrists to wear them.”

  To satisfy himself, he picked up one of her hands and slid a silver bangle on to her arm. “Mm! A bit dressy for that outfit!” The all-embracing look he gave her only increased her determination not to respond.

  “I’ll lock them all in my suitcase from now on,” she told him, pulling her hand away and turning to go.

  He caught her arm. “Nancy, how do you feel about tonight? Would you like me to sleep on the veranda outside your room? With Matt ill, I thought you might appreciate a man near by, in case you get nervous.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but if I want protection, I’ll come over to Ben. I can rely on him.”

  Rod winced at this jibe but did not respond to it. “He’d be glad of a visit from you, with his spirits so low. Perhaps you could make an effort to come over during the siesta after lunch. I have a lot to do in the office, so Ben would appreciate a chat.” The tan on his face grew slightly ruddier. “Please, Nancy.”

  That surprised her . . . so much so, that she immediately felt sorry she had neglected poor Ben. “Yes, of course I’ll come.”

  “Thanks, I’m very grateful.”

  The extent of Rod’s gratitude was revealed soon after she greeted Ben that afternoon and answered his anxious questions about her uncle.

  Rod poked his head round the door and smiled. “Try to talk some sense into him, will you? If he still insists on getting out of bed at the end of it, there’ll be no alternative but to harness him to the bedposts.”

  “I tell you I’m fit!” insisted Ben.

  Rod winked at Nancy. “Use your influence, will you? He can’t refuse a redhead.”

  Oh, it was all so charming and friendly . . . and the wool would have remained over Nancy’s eyes if she had not told Ben she would fetch a magazine from her room to illustrate the problems of fashion photography which he seemed to think was child’s play. The office door was ajar and she walked quietly so that she wouldn’t disturb the man who was working there. Her thoughtfulness was wasted. From the veranda she saw Rod joining David on the beach. He picked up some equipment from the sand and they set off at a trot towards the path leading round Disaster Point.

  Her temper flared as she realized how Rod had duped her. No wonder that faint colour had crept into his face as he had pleaded with her to visit his friend! She was the only pe
rson on the station who had time on her hands and might witness their departure . . . so they had arranged to keep her nicely occupied with Ben! There was no question of weighing up the decision to follow them; it was made instantly, her sick-bed visit forgotten.

  The jungle was vastly different in the heat of day-time. In the suffocating interior the trees seemed taller and denser than at dawn, and there was a somnolent silence which unnerved Nancy. The men must have had over five minutes’ lead on her and could certainly move faster, but it would have been difficult to track them closely without giving away her presence in this quiet place.

  Her previous walk along this path had been a leisurely, abstracted affair, and her one fear now was that she would not remember the place where she had stood in the clearing, overlooking their activities. Perspiration began to run down her neck and forehead, and the pretty green dress she had put on to cheer Ben now felt like a strait-jacket.

  It was the blazing flowers in the tree-tops which marked the spot for her, and she veered off to the left, looking for a path which must lead down to where the boat was beached.

  The undergrowth was thicker in this area, but those two had come up the slope two days ago without fighting their way through tangled ferns, so there must be an easier route to the sea. Although she searched, there was no sign of a place where people had recently passed through. A few seconds later she heard the outboard motor start up, and she ran to the clearing, which gave her a perfect view.

  Sure enough, they were heading the boat towards the darker line of water which marked the edge of the shelf. They stopped dangerously near it and put on the cylinders which provided their oxygen. Next minute, they were two dark shapes in the water, getting smaller and vaguer as they sank.

  Nancy let out her breath in a frustrated sigh. All she could do now was find her way down to the shore, hide, then wait till they returned with whatever they wanted so badly—if it was something they could bring to the surface.

  As she was about to move off, a disturbance below caught her eye. The divers were coming up again. She could see their black shapes in the water, but—she held her breath—there were three of them!

  The figures closed in and began a mad wheeling and twisting. One minute, the white oxygen cylinders were visible; then, as the men rolled over, the shapes became wholly black with threshing, outsize feet. Nancy realized it was no light-hearted frolic but a deadly battle; with all the combatants in similar suits and hoods there was no way of telling who was who.

  Soon it became apparent that one was weakening, and it was his downfall. A thrust of webbed feet, a flash of shimmering metal, and the attacker was off in front, heading for the shore like a sleek, shining seal.

  The two remaining figures were close together now, one supporting the other . . . but not for long. Throwing his body round in a flurry of bubbles, one set off in pursuit. Despite the power in his body, it was plain from where Nancy stood that the chaser would not overhaul his quarry before he reached land, and when they swam out of sight beneath the overhang, there were still twenty-five yards between them.

  Out in the water, the injured diver was scrambling to the boat, and when he reached it he found great difficulty in getting in without aid. Nancy found herself willing him to summon the strength to heave himself over the fat edge of the rubber dinghy, but he was wise enough to unstrap the breathing set to lessen his weight and throw that in first.

  Her attention was caught at that point by the sound of heavy crashing through the undergrowth to the left and below her. Now she knew where the path was, it was easy to make her way through the ferns until she was reasonably near it.

  The fugitive, panting heavily and stumbling in the restricting rubber wetsuit and breathing set, appeared through the trees, a little way down the path. He was looking behind him as he ran, and Nancy breathed: “Come on, come on . . turn round!” But he was almost opposite her hiding-place before she had a full facial view.

  It was virtually impossible to tell whether she knew that face. The enveloping rubber hood and the speed with which he passed and vanished into the jungle prevented her from taking a good look, and she cursed the fact that her camera was back in the bungalow. Photographs could have been studied over and over again at her leisure.

  Patiently she waited for the pursuer, but after five minutes she realized that he must have returned to the boat and abandoned the chase.

  By the time she returned to the clearing, the motor had started up and the dinghy was heading outward round the Point, and soon disappeared, leaving her filled with dismay. They were not coming back this way!

  Frustration was in every plodding homeward step until she realized that the injuries must be too severe to allow the man to walk back to the research station.

  The person who had made a dash for it had obviously already been down below when the pair surprised him. The surprise had been unpleasant enough to make him use violence to get away. He was armed and the others were not . . . no, that couldn’t be true! All the men had a shark knife strapped round one thigh when they went down in these waters. Why hadn’t Rod and David fought back, if they were so desperate to keep their secret? They were two against one, after all.

  Reflecting on the view she had had of the fight, it occurred to Nancy that the loner had been extremely skilled in sub-aqua swimming and, being smaller than the other two, had twisted and turned with greater ease.

  Whatever was in the sea interested another person besides the two conspirators she knew about. If it was a scientific discovery, there would surely be no need for men to fight over it? No, animosity implied that there was something of value beneath those innocent blue-green waves. Buried treasure? Greed was one of the main causes of friction between men—greed and passion!

  The big puzzle was how David Russell fitted into the scheme. Rod had been on the island for a year, long enough to familiarize himself with the coastline, or to hear a tale about a long-ago shipwreck and go searching for it; but David was a newcomer of a few days. Yet he had plunged straight into the affair by taking command over Rod! It could only mean that he had known what was beneath the sea before he came—had come for that very purpose! He was definitely not a replacement photographer.

  The other question arose from that remark after Matt had been put out of action this morning. Why was it necessary for them to eliminate people, one by one? Coming directly after Matt’s ‘accident’, it could only have meant that; yet there was one person on Wonara who had no intention of letting them get away with it and was prepared to take on David and Rod single-handed.

  The compound was strangely deserted when she crossed the beach and passed the men’s quarters. From the position of the sun, it must be around five o’clock—the middle of the afternoon work session—but there was a curious air about the place. She automatically glanced at the office and was surprised to see Ben lounging in a chair.

  “What kept you?” he called to her.

  “What are you doing out of bed?”

  His shrewd eyes took in her bedraggled hair and heat-flushed face. “I asked the first question, girl.”

  It was pointless to lie. And it wasn’t fair to treat Ben in that way. He was her staunchest ally in this awful place!

  “If I answer truthfully, you’ll be annoyed. I can’t risk losing my one friend on Wonara.”

  His eyebrows went up comically. “You’ve been up to something, haven’t you?”

  Her face, through the veranda rails, was suddenly serious and intent. “I’m sorry, Ben. I haven’t told you half the facts, because you’d feel so powerless, flat on your back in bed . . . or you would have done something foolish and risked your health.”

  “But it’s all right for you to risk your health!”

  “Knowing what I do, I can’t stand by and take no action. It’s far more serious than you imagine—and it’s not over, by any means.”

  “Then I suggest you use some sense and tell me. If it is that serious, it’s too much for you to handle on your o
wn. I’m not suggesting that I am any more qualified than you are to solve mysteries, but I’ll pin Rod down so that he has no way of avoiding my questions. So far, I’ve let him handle his own problems, but if I consider it necessary, after I have heard your story, I’ll insist on hearing the truth from him.” A grin produced the usual furrows in his cheeks. “I can always play on the fact that I saved his life down there among the sea-snakes.”

  “I don’t think he needed saving—any more than Uncle Matt did, this morning.”

  “I don’t know what that remark is supposed to mean, but don’t try to sell me any rubbish about Rod, because I am not in the market for it!”

  His reaction pricked at her nerves, which were already particularly sensitive at that moment.

  “I told you you’d be annoyed. Good-bye, friend.”

  She turned to go, but swung round sharply at the sound of Rod’s voice calling her name. He was crossing the compound from the men’s quarters, and had been back at the station long enough to change into khaki shorts and shirt. There seemed to be no sign of an injury, as far as she could see, so it must be David who had received the knife in his flesh.

  She waited for him to reach her, but his words came as a surprise. “I’m sorry to have to spring this on you, Nancy, but we shall have to rely on you for our dinner tonight.”

  “Your dinner!”

  He spread his hands apologetically. “The cook-boys have walked out, leaving us high and dry. I should imagine T’iang has put pressure on them because of what I did last night. There isn’t time to go to the village to negotiate, so I am forced to ask you to take over. Can you cope?”

  “Yes. It won’t be as good as you normally get, but at least you won’t starve. I expect you and David are hungry now. Was he badly hurt?”

  The shock was all she hoped it would be. There was a long moment while a sequence of expressions flitted across his face, giving away the fact that he was an unhappy conspirator.

  “You can ask him at dinner-time,” he said.

  But the occasion didn’t arise, because Ben asked Nancy to bring a tray across and have the meal with him, to keep him company. And just as Nancy was setting out the dishes—having seen that everyone else was served—Rod came into the room and said he wanted to talk to her about arrangements for breakfast.

 

‹ Prev