Complete Works of Nevil Shute

by Nevil Shute

  When Janice came in he suggested that she should draw a farm with all the animals for him, and he took her down with him to the workshop and settled her down at his desk with a large sheet of paper, clearing away letters from Cornwall and Colchester and California to make a space for her. He went on working at the handlebars, which were too immature as yet to draw her notice, and as he worked he measured her furtively with his eye for the height of the steering head. Thirty-two inches from the ground . . . From time to time he stopped work to admire her picture.

  That evening, after Janice was in bed, he told Katie all about it. “This chap in this place Papeete — the Governor — he thinks they’re dead,” he said heavily. “There’s no doubt of that.”

  “It might have been some other boat,” she suggested.

  “They buried two people,” he replied, “a man and a woman. On this other island, Maro . . . something or other.”

  They looked for it on the atlas unavailingly. “Ought we to tell her?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not now. Wait till we know for sure. She’s not old enough for things not being certain.”

  “I started to make her a scooter,” he said. “I’ll keep it under cover, all in bits, until we know.”

  “That’ll be nice for her,” she said. “She can use it up and down the pavement, not in the road.”

  He told her about the missing securities. “He’ll find them, all right,” he said. “I mean, they must be there somewhere.”

  “They couldn’t have taken them with them, in the boat?”

  “That’s possible,” he remarked. “They might have done that. But then, that wouldn’t matter, because they’d still be the owner of the shares in companies in England, or where have you. It just means that the lawyers would have to get copies. Be a bit more expense. The money would be there just the same.”

  She did not fully understand this, but let it pass. “Until it’s all squared up, though, there’s just fifty-five pounds.”

  He nodded. “Not much to bring her up on, not in the way they’d want. But it’ll be all right. The money must be somewhere.”

  “It’s enough,” she said. “She’d live with us till she’s grown up, like as if she was our own kid. I don’t want any money with her.”

  “Be a bit tight,” he said.

  She smiled. “We’ll manage.”

  He was content with that; if Katie said that they could manage, it was so. He himself had never cared much about money, or wanted it, or taken any interest in it except so far as it controlled the equipment of his workshop. That was very largely over now; the tools he had would last his lifetime and only minor additions would be necessary from time to time. He was content to take what income he could derive from the work he loved and live on that without complaint; the management of the Miniature Mechanic knew all about him and gave him just enough to keep him in a very modest way of life, the finances of their magazine allowing no more. He kept no car, drank very little, and hardly smoked at all. Each year they took a fortnight’s summer holiday in Cornwall and went for motor coach rides, but that was only possible because Katie worked. She managed all of their finances and saved about a hundred pounds a year for the gradual repayment of the mortgage.

  It was a week before Mr. Carpenter rang again, again at about ten o’clock in the morning. He said, “I have a further cable from the Governor in Papeete, Mr. Stewart. Could you come up and see me again, do you think?”

  Keith said, “I’ll come up right away. Can you tell me what’s in the cable?”

  “Not very good news, I am afraid.”

  “Oh. They’re dead, are they?”

  “I am afraid so. The vessel that went on the reef at Marokota Island was undoubtedly Shearwater. They have some of the clothing from the bodies.”

  Keith said dully, “I’ll come up right away, sir.”

  He was sitting with the solicitor in Bedford Square an hour and a half later, reading the cable. “There doesn’t seem to be any doubt about it now,” he said. “This full report he says he’s sending. We haven’t had that yet, I suppose?”

  Mr. Carpenter shook his head. “This only came in during the night.”

  “Well, that’s the end of it.” He sat in silence for a minute. “We’ll have to tell Janice now.”

  “I am afraid so.” The solicitor paused, and then said, “If I may speak from my experience, don’t be too much influenced by the child’s first reaction, Mr. Stewart. It will be very painful, because there will be floods of tears. They will go on for a day, and then they will dry up. A child’s wounds heal very quickly — or appear to, anyway. The thing is patience, and enduring kindness.”

  The engineer glanced at him gratefully. “I know. I’ve been making her a scooter.”

  “A scooter?”

  “You know — what kids have, to push about on with one foot. I’ve got it painted red. She hasn’t seen it yet.”

  “A very good idea, Mr. Stewart. You say you made it yourself?”

  Keith nodded. “I can do that sort of thing.”

  “How fortunate you are . . .” The solicitor turned back to the papers on his desk. “I have been going into my client’s financial affairs since I saw you last,” he said. “I am afraid they are rather unsatisfactory.”

  “You haven’t been able to find the securities?”

  “The securities that John Dermott held were all sold, Mr. Stewart, between February and April of this year. The proceeds were paid into the Throgmorton Street branch of his bank. They totalled—” he glanced at a paper “ — twenty-six thousand eight hundred and forty-four pounds, eleven shillings and tenpence.”

  “What’s happened to that money, then?”

  “Between March and the end of May,” said the solicitor, “cheques were drawn in favour of a firm called Rosenblaum and Franck totalling twenty-seven thousand nine hundred and thirty-eight pounds, sixteen and twopence.” He raised his eyes and looked at Keith. “Rosenblaum and Franck are dealers in precious stones, Mr. Stewart — principally diamonds, I think. They are quite a reputable firm.”

  Keith stared at him. “What on earth did they want with those?”

  Mr. Carpenter said, “I know no more than you do, Mr. Stewart. But I have talked to a partner in the firm, Mr. Franck.”

  “What did he say?”

  The solicitor leaned back in his chair. “Mr. Franck is still a youngish man, under forty, I would say. He told me that he knew Commander Dermott well. He served under him in the recent war, when he would have been between twenty and twenty-five years old. He has a very high opinion of your brother-in-law. I am telling you this in order that you may understand the background of this business.”

  He paused. “I would say that Elias Franck is a Jew, and a very good one. He inherited the family business from his father. He told me that Commander Dermott came to him last spring and wanted to buy diamonds that would be readily saleable in any part of the world. Mr. Franck told me that they sometimes get enquiries of that sort, and in such cases they avoid asking questions. It is no business of theirs what the purchaser wishes to do with the gems. Their business is to sell precious stones in London.”

  Keith nodded. “I see. They don’t want to get mixed up in anything.”

  “Exactly.” The solicitor went on, “Commander Dermott bought diamonds to the value I have stated, twenty-seven thousand pounds odd, and took them away with him.”

  “Just like that?”

  Mr. Carpenter inclined his head. “Mr. Franck tells me that he was very careful in his selection of the gems for Commander Dermott on account of the sincere regard that he feels towards him. He thinks that your brother-in-law might well make money on the resale, and if the diamonds should come again upon the market he would like to have the first refusal of the business.” He paused. “There is just one other thing. Commander Dermott asked him for the name of a reputable broker on the west coast of America. Mr. Franck gave him an introduction to a firm in which he has confidence, in Los Ang
eles.”

  He paused. “I have been wondering if Commander Dermott took these diamonds with him in the yacht.”

  Keith stared at him. “I suppose he might have done. But why would he want to do a thing like that?”

  Mr. Carpenter sat in thought for a minute. “I can only surmise, Mr. Stewart,” he said. “But as I understand the matter, it was the intention of your brother-in-law to settle permanently in the dollar area, perhaps in British Columbia. There are restrictions on the transfer of capital from England to the dollar area, as perhaps you know. Under the present regulations your brother-in-law could only have transferred a very small part of his capital into dollars each year. It might have taken ten years, or more, to transfer the whole of it.”

  “You think he bought diamonds and took them with him in the yacht, to sell them in America and get his capital that way?”

  “I think it possible.”

  “Did he ever tell you he was going to do that?”

  The solicitor placed both hands on the desk in front of him. “Mr. Stewart,” he said, “if Commander Dermott did that, it was an illegal act. It was very highly illegal, and would have resulted in a considerable prison sentence if he had been detected. A solicitor must not allow a client to tell him that he intends to commit a felony. If the client should do so, the solicitor must refuse to advise him or to handle his case; in certain circumstances his duty would be to inform the proper authorities. Commander Dermott never told me or gave me any indication that he intended to do such a thing.”

  Keith said, “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Stewart.” He smiled. “If your brother-in-law had such a thing in mind, he knew enough not to come and tell me about it.”

  “I don’t understand why it should have been so illegal,” the engineer said. “It was his own money.”

  “That is the law of the land,” the solicitor replied. “Dollars are short in this country. I am not allowed to buy a Buick car, or even to spend more than a hundred pounds in America if I wish to go there for a holiday. In the same way, your brother-in-law was not allowed to take twenty-six or twenty-seven thousand pounds to spend in the United States or Canada.”

  “I see.” Keith glanced at the solicitor. “He did tell me once that he wanted to buy a house when he got to a place called Victoria, on Vancouver Island.”

  “He told you that?”

  Keith nodded.

  “I doubt if he could have done that very easily by any legal transfer of capital. Not unless the payments could have been deferred over an excessive period of time.”

  “He didn’t say anything about that. He just said that he was going to buy a house there.”

  “I see.” They discussed this for a time, but Keith could remember nothing more. Presently the solicitor said, “If in fact these diamonds were with them in the yacht, I am afraid that the prospects of recovering them do not seem very rosy.”

  “We don’t know yet how badly the yacht was wrecked,” Keith said. “Things might have been saved off her — luggage, or things like that.”

  “From a yacht, a wooden yacht, wrecked on a coral reef some distance from the land, in a tropical hurricane? I think she must have broken up, Mr. Stewart, otherwise the bodies of the crew would hardly have been washed ashore. In that case all her contents would have been scattered over the sea floor. But we shall know more of the condition of the vessel when we get that report. I do not personally feel very hopeful.”

  Keith glanced at him. “It’s fifty-five quid, then?”

  “I am afraid it looks rather like it. Do you think that you can manage with the daughter, without any appreciable money, Mr. Stewart? In the circumstances I should have no hesitation in approaching the Dungannon family on her behalf.”

  “Katie says that we can manage,” said the engineer. “Katie — that’s my wife. After all, it’s no more than if we had a kid of our own.”

  “There would be no difficulty in approaching the Dungannons. I could write to Lord Dungannon personally.”

  “If they paid for her schooling and that,” said Keith shrewdly, “they’d want to have her, wouldn’t they? I mean, they wouldn’t want for her to go living with Katie and me, and going to Miss Pearson’s school down the road, and Ealing High School after that? Holidays, they’d want her to be with them in North Ireland?”

  “They might,” the solicitor agreed.

  The engineer shook his head. “That’s not what Jo wanted for her,” he said. “Nor did John. When they left her with us, they did it of a purpose. They could have left her in North Ireland with the big house and people with titles and ponies to ride and all of that. But they didn’t do that. They didn’t even like her going there last summer much, but they kind of had to. What they wanted to do was for her to stay with us.”

  “Do you know why they took that line?” asked Mr. Carpenter. “I know that that was their intention, but do you know why?”

  “They had ideas,” Keith said awkwardly. “I mean, people getting divorced two or three times, and mess and muddle over the children. They didn’t want Janice to grow up thinking that was the usual way people did. They thought she’d be better off with Katie and me in Ealing, seeing it was just for a short time.”

  “It’s going to be for a long time now,” said the solicitor.

  “I know. But Katie says we can manage.” He paused. “I’d like to find out all we can about things that might have been washed up from the yacht.”

  “It’s just possible that the diamonds might have been recovered,” said Mr. Carpenter. “If so, they would be in the hands of the French authorities.” He sat in silence for a minute, and then said, “I will find out everything I can, Mr. Stewart. But I shall have to word any enquiry rather carefully. If the diamonds were taken out of the United Kingdom it was a most illegal act.”

  Keith sat with his brows wrinkled. “How do the French come into this?” he asked.

  “Tahiti and the Tuamotu Islands are a part of French Oceania,” the solicitor told him. “Just as if they were French colonies.”

  “I didn’t know that,” the engineer said humbly. “I thought that they were Japanese or something.”

  He left the solicitor’s office a few minutes later with the thought dominant in his mind that now either he or Katie would have to tell Janice that her father and mother were dead. He had the red scooter finished and painted, hanging up in what had once been the coal cellar of the house and now was used as a box room. He had made it with pleasure for her, but now that the moment had come to use it as an anodyne it did not seem to be quite the right thing after all. He walked down to Holborn and then eastwards looking in the shop windows till he came to Gamages. He went into the big store mingling with the crowd of Christmas shoppers till he found the toy department and browsed around there, a pale-faced, rather fat little man in a greasy raincoat. He was already conscious of the need for economy, and finally he bought a yellow and blue plastic duck that would float in the bath. He knew as he bought it that it was much too young a present for a child of ten, but he bought it feeling that somehow it might be the right thing in the circumstances.

  He got back to the flat in Ealing early in the afternoon, carrying the duck in a paper bag. He had thought of stopping at the store in Ealing Broadway and discussing the position across the counter with Katie in the Household Linen, but he had abandoned that idea. Katie would want to come home early in order to be at home when Janice got back from school, and it did not seem quite fair to him to throw all the dirty work on Katie. He felt that he would rather tell Janice himself and get the back of the job broken before Katie got home; enough would fall upon her later, anyway.

  He was sitting in his chair before the fire in the parlour when Janice came back from school, a slim, dark-haired child in a thick blue overcoat and a blue hat with the school ribbon on it. He called, “That you, Jan? Take off your coat and come in here. I’ve got something I want to tell you.”

  She came in,
and he sat up in his chair. “What do you want to tell me?” she asked.

  “Come over here,” he said. She came close, and he put his arm around the slender little waist in the gym tunic. He could only take this straight. “Look, Jan,” he said. “I’ve got something serious I’ve got to tell you. You know about boats and yachts, and how they get wrecked sometimes, running on shore, on rocks?”

  She nodded.

  “Sometimes,” he said, “the people in the boats get drowned when that happens.”

  She stared at him, and he knew that the realization was already with her. She asked, “Drownded dead?”

  “That does happen sometimes, in a shipwreck,” he said gently.

  “Has that happened to my Mummy and Daddy?”

  “I’m afraid it has, Jan,” he said steadily. “They got into a terrible storm, a long, long way from here. And they were wrecked.”

  “Are they drownded dead, Uncle Keith?”

  “I’m afraid they are, both drowned,” he replied. “Come and sit up on my knee.”

  He had thought that she would burst into tears, but that did not happen. She came up on his knee and he held her close, and so they sat in silence for ten minutes. At last she asked, “Do you think my Mummy and Daddy were very frightened when the ship got wrecked?”

  The adult quality of the question amazed him; children were so much older than you thought they were. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think that they’d ever have been frightened. They weren’t that sort of people. And you won’t be frightened of things either, I don’t think.”

  She shook her head. He reached down beside his chair and brought up the paper bag. “I bought you a duck,” he said. “I’m not sure if it’s a very good present, but I wanted to bring you something and this was all that I could think of.”

  She pulled it out of the paper bag upon his knee. “It’s a lovely duck,” she said. “Can I have it in the bath?”

  “Of course,” he said.