Читать книгу Bahama Crisis - Desmond Bagley, Desmond Bagley - Страница 12

That evening I had to cope with the Pascoes who, oddly enough, were more philosophical about it than I was. I was in a cold, helpless, miserable rage; wanting to strike out at something but finding nothing to hit – no target. The Pascoes were more equable. Nearing the end of their own days I suppose that death was a not unexpected figure lurking over the horizon, something with which they had come to terms on a personal level. Besides, Mike was a doctor and death had been a factor in his professional life. They did their best to comfort me.

I had a long talk with Mike after Ellen had gone to bed. ‘I know how you feel,’ he said. ‘I lost a boy – killed in Vietnam. Did Julie ever tell you about that?’ I nodded. ‘It hit me hard. Allen was a good boy.’ He wagged his head sagely. ‘But it wears off, Tom; you can’t grieve for ever.’

‘I suppose so,’ I said moodily. Deep in my heart I knew he was wrong; I would grieve for Julie and Sue for the rest of my life.

‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘For God’s sake, wake up! You can’t just let everything slide. You’re running a corporation and you have folk depending on you. You’re still a young man, too. How old? Forty what?’

‘Forty-two.’

‘You can get married again,’ he said.

‘Let’s not talk about that now,’ I said sharply. ‘Julie’s not been gone three days. And maybe …’

‘Maybe she’ll come back? Don’t set your heart on that, Tom, or you’ll drive yourself nuts.’ I said nothing to that and there was a long silence. After a while Mike stirred. ‘What are you going to do about Karen?’

‘I haven’t thought about it yet.’

‘Then you’d better put your mind to it. Debbie Cunningham’s a good girl from what I’ve seen of her, but she won’t be around for ever. You’ll have to make some arrangements. Bringing up a daughter aged nine and running a corporation could be a mite tough – tough on Karen, I mean.’

‘I’ll get a woman in to look after her, I suppose.’

‘Humph!’ Evidently he did not think much of that idea. I did not think much of it myself. He said, ‘Ellen and I have been talking. We’d like to take Karen until you’ve got things settled in your mind.’

‘That’s generous of you.’

‘No; just plain horse sense. Karen should be with her own kin.’ He smiled slowly. ‘But I thought I’d gotten past the age of child-raising.’

‘I agree,’ I said. ‘I had a call from my sister, Peggy, this morning. She wants to take Karen to Abaco, at least until I get settled and can make other arrangements. She has two kids of her own, and that might be better for Karen.’

Mike looked a shade relieved. ‘It would be better,’ he said positively. ‘Children brought up by old folk sometimes turn out funny. You’re starting to think, Tom.’

We talked about it some more and then I changed the subject. ‘There’s something I can’t understand. I don’t see why Perigord should be conducting this investigation personally. He’s a Deputy-Commissioner, the top cop on the island. I shouldn’t have thought this would warrant it.’

‘You’re running yourself down,’ said Mike. ‘You’re a prominent citizen on Grand Bahama. And you say he knew Julie?’

‘So he says. He says he met her at the school, at PTA meetings. I didn’t go to many of those.’

‘Maybe he feels he has a personal obligation.’

‘Perhaps. But then there’s Hepburn. Luke Bailey tells me Hepburn is a narcotics officer, and he did give Pete’s rooms a good shakedown. There’s something behind all this, Mike.’

‘Imagination!’ he scoffed. ‘Probably Hepburn was the only officer handy in the precinct house at the time.’ He got up and stretched. ‘I’m going to bed; I’m not as young as I was.’ He looked down at me. ‘Tom, I’ve been a doctor all my life until I retired three years ago. I’ve seen a lot of people die and a lot of grief in families. Tell me; have you shed one single tear since Julie went?’

‘No,’ I said flatly.

He walked to the corner cupboard, poured four fingers of brandy into a glass, and brought it back to me. ‘Drink that, relax, and let yourself go. There’s no fault in a man crying, and bottling it up can harm you.’ He turned and walked out of the room.

Mike was a kindly man and a good man. He had once said that being a doctor made a man a fair jackleg psychologist and he was right about this. I sat for a long time holding the glass and just looking into its brown depths. Then I swallowed the lot in two long gulps. The brandy burned going down and I gasped. Fifteen minutes later I was sprawled on the settee and crying my heart out. I cried myself to sleep and awoke in the early hours of the morning when I went to bed after turning out the lights.

It was acceptance that Julie and Sue were dead; and Pete and an unknown man. The acceptance brought a curious kind of peace; I still felt numbed in my mind, but I felt better and was a functioning man. Mike had known what he was doing.

Four days later I took Karen to Abaco, and Debbie came with us. It was then, in the presence of Peggy and Bob, that I told Karen that her mother and sister were dead and that she would be staying with her aunt and uncle for a while. She looked at me, wide-eyed, and said, ‘They won’t be coming home? Ever?’

‘I’m afraid not. You remember when Timmy died?’ Timmy was a pet kitten who had been run over by a car, and Karen nodded. ‘Well, it’s something like that.’

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘Timmy didn’t come back,’ she agreed. ‘Does that mean I won’t see Mommy and Susie – not ever?’ Suddenly she bust loose. She burst into tears and tore herself away. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she cried, and began to wail, ‘I want my Mommy. I want my Mommy.’

Peggy caught her up in her arms and comforted her, then said over her shoulder to me, ‘I think a mild sedative and bed is the best thing now.’ She took Karen away.

Bob said awkwardly, ‘It’s hard to know what to say.’

‘I know – but the world goes round as usual. It’ll take me a bit of time to get used to this, but I’ll pull through. Where’s Debbie?’

‘On the patio.’

I looked at my watch. ‘We’ll have to get back; the plane is needed. I’ll come across as often as I can – at least once a week.’

Debbie and I did not talk much at first on the flight back to Grand Bahama; both of us were immersed in our private thoughts. It was a long time before I said, ‘I suppose you’ll be going back to Houston.’

‘Yes,’ she said colourlessly. Presently she said, ‘And I thought I had troubles.’

‘What happened?’

She laughed shortly. ‘Would you want to know?’

‘Why not? We can cry on each other’s shoulder.’

‘A man happened – or I thought he was a man. I thought he loved me, but he really loved my money. I happened to pick up a telephone at the wrong time and I heard a really interesting conversation about the big deals he was going to make and the life he was going to lead as soon as he’d married me. The trouble was that he was talking to another woman, and she was included in his plans.’

‘That’s bad,’ I said.

‘I was a damned fool,’ she said. ‘You see, I’d been warned. Billy was against it all along because he didn’t trust the guy and he made that very clear. But would I listen? Not me. I was grown up – a woman of the world – and I knew it all.’

‘How old are you, Debbie?’

‘The ripe old age of twenty-five.’

‘I had my fingers burned, too, when I was your age,’ I said. ‘That was before I met Julie. You’ll get over it.’

‘You think so? But, God, it’s taught me something and I don’t think I like what it’s taught me. Here I am – a poor little rich girl – and from now to eternity I’ll be looking at every guy I meet and wondering if he wants me or all that lovely dough. That’s no way to have to go through life.’

‘Other rich people cope,’ I said.

‘Yes?’ she said challengingly. ‘Examined the divorce statistics lately?’

Her voice was bitter and I could see that she had been badly hurt. And coming to Grand Bahama and seeing how happily Julie and I were married could not have helped much. Presently she said quietly, ‘But you don’t want to be burdened with my problems even though you do seem to have got over the worst of your blues. Was it the talk you had with Mike Pascoe the other day?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He dutch-uncled me, and it helped. It could help you.’

‘All right, Tom,’ she said. ‘What would you do if you were me? I know you can’t possibly put yourself in my position, but I’ve told you enough to know about me. I’d like your advice. You know, Billy thinks a lot of you and I respect Billy’s judgement – now.’

I scratched the angle of my jaw and thought about it. ‘Well, I wouldn’t get rid of your money, if that’s what you’re thinking about. It’s too useful; you can do a lot of good if you have enough dollars.’

‘Buying my way out?’

‘Not exactly. Are you thinking of being a missionary in Calcutta or something like that?’

Her laugh was rueful. ‘You know more about me than I thought.’

‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t work. Besides, charity begins at home. Now, you’re a Texan. I’ll bet there are poor black kids in Texas who have never even seen the sea.’

‘That’s a thought. What are you getting at?’

‘I’m working it out,’ I said slowly. ‘Starting from the fact that we’re in the Bahamas with plenty of black faces around. Your black Texan kids wouldn’t stand out if you brought them here, and we’ve no colour bar to speak of. Teach them to swim, scuba-dive, sail a boat – things they’ve only been able to dream about back home. If you brought them out of season I could give you cheap rates in the hotels. They could go to Abaco and Eleuthera; real desert island stuff.’

‘My God!’ she said. ‘What a marvellous idea. And there are poor white kids, too.’

‘All right, mix ’em up.’ I saw she was caught up in enthusiasm, and warned, ‘But you’ll have to do more than pay for it, Deb, if it’s going to work – I mean for you personally. You’ll have to participate and bring the kids yourself, with perhaps a couple of assistants. It’s something to think about.’

‘It surely is.’

My eye was caught by Bill Pinder, the pilot, who was waving at me. I leaned forward and took the piece of paper he held. It was a message that had been radioed through Freeport air control and told me that Perigord wanted to see me urgently in his office.

I took Debbie along to the police station which was on the corner of Pioneer’s Way and East Mall. I suppose I could have driven her to the Royal Palm and then gone back, but there was something about Perigord’s message which made me want to see him fast, so I asked Debbie if she minded stopping off. It was a hot day and I did not want to leave her sitting in the car so I took her inside with me.

I happened to catch Perigord walking through the entrance hall so I introduced them, and added, ‘Miss Cunningham and her brother were present when Lucayan Girl left for Miami.’

Perigord looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You’d better come into my office – both of you,’ he said abruptly, and led the way. In his office he turned to Debbie and asked without preamble, ‘Are you a good friend of Mr Mangan?’

She was startled and shot me a swift look. ‘I would say so.

I said, ‘I haven’t known Miss Cunningham long but I would certainly consider her my friend. Her cousin and I have been friends for many years.’

For a moment Perigord looked undecided, then he waved at a chair. ‘Please sit down.’ He sat opposite us and said, ‘I am not certain that Miss Cunningham should be here at this point, but you might need some support from a friend.’

‘You’ve found them,’ I said with certainty.

He took a deep breath. ‘A fisherman found the body of a small, female child on a beach on Cat Island.’

‘Cat Island!’ I said incredulously. ‘But that’s impossible! Lucayan Girl was going south-west to Miami – Cat Island is 200 miles south-east. It can’t be Sue!’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Mangan, but there is no doubt.’

‘I don’t believe it. I want to see her.’

‘I would advise against it.’ Perigord shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t recognize her.’

‘Why not?’

Perigord was unhappy. ‘I don’t have to explain to a fellow Bahamian what happens to a body in our seas in a very short time.’

‘If I wouldn’t recognize her how in hell can you be so sure?’ I was becoming angry at the impossibility of all this. ‘How could Sue have got to Cat Island?’

Perigord took a card from his desk drawer and laid it flat. ‘This is your daughter’s dental record; we obtained it from the school. Dr Miller, your daughter’s dentist, has done a comparison and it fits in every respect. We took no chances; we had another evaluation from a dentist who does not know your daughter. He confirmed Dr Miller’s identification.’

I suddenly felt sick and a little dizzy. It must have shown in my colour because Debbie put her hand on my arm. ‘Are you all right, Tom?’

‘Yes,’ I said thickly. I raised my head and looked at Perigord. ‘And Julie? And the others?’

‘Nothing, I’m afraid.’ He cleared his throat. ‘There’ll be an inquest, of course.’

‘How do you explain Cat Island? You know it’s bloody impossible. Anything abandoned in the Florida Straits would be swept north-east in the Gulf Stream.’

‘I can’t explain it; at least, not to your satisfaction.’ He held up his hand as I opened my mouth. ‘It might help if you could identify the crewman.’

I said dully, ‘I didn’t see him.’

Perigord said, ‘We have asked questions at the marinas with no luck at all. The trouble is that the marinas have, literally, a floating population.’ He repeated that, appreciating the double edge. ‘Yes, a floating population – here today and gone tomorrow. Nobody has been reported missing because everybody is missing, sooner or later. It makes police work difficult. We have also checked from the other end by asking Mr Albury’s friends if he had been seen talking to a stranger. Again, no luck.’

Debbie said, ‘He might not have been a stranger.’

‘Oh, yes, I think he was,’ said Perigord confidently. ‘I think he was a beach bum, one of the young Americans who hitchhike around the islands on the cheap and are willing to crew for anyone if it gives them a leg further. I think this one was going home.’

‘Then he might be on an American missing persons list,’ she remarked.

‘Why should he be?’ asked Perigord. ‘He’s only been gone a week, and he’s probably a footloose young man, a social drop-out. In any case, in which American city do we ask? And with no name and no face how do we operate?’

My brain started to work creakily. Perigord had said something which aroused my ire. ‘You said you couldn’t explain how Sue came to be on Cat Island to my satisfaction. Does that mean that you are satisfied?’ I was becoming enraged at Perigord because I knew he was holding something back.

That got to him. ‘By God, Mr Mangan, I am not satisfied. It gives me no satisfaction to sit here and pass on bad news, sir.’

‘Then what’s all the bloody mystery? Is it because I am a suspect? If I am then say so. Am I to be accused of blowing up my own boat?’

My voice had risen to a shout and I found myself shaking. Again Debbie held my arm, and said, ‘Take it easy, Tom.’

‘Take it easy? There’s been something damn funny going on right from the start.’ I stabbed a finger at Perigord. ‘No one can tell me that a Deputy-Commissioner of Police does his own legwork when a boat goes missing. Especially when he brings a narcotics officer with him. Perigord, I’m well-known in Government circles, and if you don’t come across I’ll be over in Nassau talking to Deane, your boss, and a few other people and you won’t know what hit you.’

Perigord made a curious gesture as though to brush away an irritating fly. ‘I assure you that the police are treating this with the utmost seriousness. Further, the Government is serious. And alarmed, I might add. The Attorney General, acting under direct instruction from the Prime Minister, is putting very heavy pressure on me – as much as I can stand – and I don’t need any more from you.’

‘But you’ll damn well get it,’ I said. ‘Good Christ, this is my family we’re talking about!’

He stopped being impervious and his voice softened. ‘I know – I know.’ He stood up and went to the window, looking out on to East Mall in silence and with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. He stood there for a long time evidently having difficulty in making up his mind about something.

Presently he turned and said quietly, ‘I suppose if I were in your position I would feel and act as you do. That’s why I’m going to tell you something of what is happening in the Bahamas. But I’ll want your discretion. I don’t want you going off half-cocked and, above all, I want your silence. You must not talk about what I’m about to tell you.’

Debbie rose to her feet. ‘I’ll leave.’

‘No,’ said Perigord. ‘Stay, Miss Cunningham.’ He smiled. ‘Mr Mangan will want to talk to someone about this; he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t, and his confidante might as well be you. But I’ll need the same assurance of your silence.’

Debbie said, ‘You have it.’

‘Mr Mangan?’

I thought Perigord was every bit as good an amateur psychologist as Mike Pascoe. ‘All right.’

He returned to his seat at the desk. ‘It is not normal for a well-found boat to vanish in a calm sea, and the enquiries made before I took over the case gave us the assurance that Lucayan Girl was a very well-found boat with more than the usual complement of safety equipment. She was very well-equipped, is that not so?’

‘I made it so,’ I said.

Perigord examined the backs of his hands. ‘There have been too many boats going missing these past few years. There has been much ill-informed and mischievous talk about the so-called Bermuda Triangle of which we are in the centre. The Bahamian Government, however, does not believe in spooks – neither do the insurance companies. The Government is becoming most worried about it.’

‘Are you talking about piracy?’ said Debbie unbelievingly.

‘Just that.’

I had heard the rumours, as I suppose every other Bahamian had, and it had been a topic in some of the American yachting magazines. I said, ‘I know there was piracy around here in the old days, but these boats aren’t treasure ships – they’re not carrying gold to Spain. I suppose you could sell off bits and pieces – radar, radio, engines, perhaps – but that’s chicken feed, and dangerous, too. Easy to detect.’

‘You’re right. Your boat is probably on the sea bed by now, with all its equipment intact. These people are not going to risk selling a few items for a few dollars. Mr Mangan, I think we’re dealing with coke smugglers, and I don’t mean Coca-Cola – I mean cocaine. It comes through here from South America and goes to the States. Some heroin, too, but not much because we’re not on that route. Some marijuana, also, but again not much because it’s too bulky.’

He nodded and gestured towards the large map of the Bahamas on the wall. ‘Look at that – 100,000 square miles of which only five per cent is land. If the land were conveniently in one place our task would be easier, but there are thousands of cays. An area the size of the British Isles with a population of 220,000. That’s what we have to police.’

He walked over to the map. ‘Take only one small group.’ His arm slashed in an arc. ‘The Ragged Island Range and the Jumentos Cays – 120 miles long with a total population of 200, mostly concentrated in Duncan Town in the south. Anyone could bring a boat in there with a nine nines certainty of not being seen even in daylight. They could land on Flamingo Cay, Water Cay, Stoney Cay – or any one of a hundred others, most of which don’t even have names. And that’s just one small chain of islands among many. We could turn our whole population into police officers and still not have enough men to cover.’

Debbie said, ‘How does piracy come into this?’

‘It’s not called piracy any more, although it is,’ said Perigord tiredly. ‘It’s become prevalent enough to have acquired its own name – yacht-jacking. They grab a boat and sail it out of the local area, fast. A quick paint spray job of the upperworks takes care of easy identification. They head for the cay where the cocaine is hidden and then run it to the States. Once the cocaine is ashore they usually sink the boat; sometimes they may use it for a second run, but not often. And you know how many we’ve caught?’ He held up a single finger.

‘And for that they murder the crew?’ I demanded.

‘Do you know what the profits are, Mr Mangan? But normally the boats are stolen from a marina and there are no deaths. That’s easy enough considering the informality of most boat owners and the laxity of the average marina.’

‘Lucayan Girl wasn’t stolen from a marina.’

Perigord said deliberately, ‘When a man like you sends his wife and small daughter to sea with a crewman he has never seen and whose name he doesn’t know he’s asking for trouble.’

He had not come right out and said it, but he was implying that I was a damn fool and I was inclined to agree with him. I said weakly, ‘But who could have known?’

Perigord sighed. ‘We hand out circulars, put posters in marinas – watch your boat – know your crew – use your keys – and no one apparently takes a damn bit of notice.’ He paused. ‘I wouldn’t say that the case of Lucayan Girl is the norm. Boats are lost at sea for other than criminal reasons; storm damage, fire, explosions, run down, and so on. But if they’re taken by piracy and then sunk who’s to know the difference? That’s our problem; we don’t know how many acts of piracy are occurring. All we know is that too many boats are being lost.’

Debbie said, ‘Are you implying that the crewman on Lucayan Girl might be alive?’

Perigord spread his hands. ‘Miss Cunningham, if this is a simple matter of sinking, which we can’t discount, then he’s probably dead. If it is piracy, which is more than likely because of what we found on Cat Island, then he is probably alive. And that’s why I want your silence. If he’s still here I don’t want him to know he’s being looked for.’ He pursed his lips in a dubious manner. ‘But without a name or description he’s going to be difficult to find.’

I said, ‘Commissioner, find the bastard. If it’s a matter of a reward to be offered I’ll put it up, no matter how much.’

‘I mentioned discretion,’ said Perigord softly. ‘Offering a public reward is hardly being discreet.’ He clasped his hands in front of him. ‘This is a professional matter, Mr Mangan; a matter for the police. I don’t want you butting in, and you did give me your word.’

‘He’s right, Tom,’ said Debbie.

‘I know.’ I stood up and said to Perigord, ‘I’m sorry if I blew my top.’

‘No apology is necessary. I understood.’

‘You’ll keep me informed of developments?’

‘Insofar as I can. You must understand that I may not be able to tell all I know, even to you. Discretion also applies to the police when in the public interest.’

He stood up and we shook hands, and with that I had to be satisfied. But, as Perigord had warned, it was not to my entire satisfaction.