“This time, we heard the splash, but by the time we got to the side of the facility, there were only ripples in the water, and despite dredging the area, again no body was found. Even despite the boss’ promise of even more cash, I damn nearly had a mutiny on my hands then. It was only Buller’s talking about sackings and the prospect of losing their cash flow entirely that kept the men here.
“But now, with the boss going — and he went as quiet as Jack Baillie — now I don’t think I can keep them here. Not unless you can help us.”
It had all come out of Wilkes in a rush and, as if it had made him thirsty, he chugged a beer down in one, and then chewed hard at his cigar. Banks again saw the tension in the man, a bottled-up fear that might explode at any moment.
He was about to say something, a remark about how they’d do what they could to help, when there was a commotion in the corridor outside. Giraldo entered with his son and a small crowd of the deck workers at his back. Banks realized that everything else had gone totally quiet outside; all of the machines that ran the operation had been switched off completely and he couldn’t feel the vibration that had been there, unnoticed underfoot until it was gone.
“I am taking these men home,” Giraldo said, addressing Banks rather than the foreman. “If you wish, I will take you back now too. Otherwise, I will return for you, if you are still here.”
Wilkes banged a fist hard on the table, and rose, anger suddenly blazing in him.
“They cannot leave.”
Giraldo kept his gaze on Banks.
“They can, and they will. It is not safe here.”
“They will get no more money, if that’s what they’re after,” Wilkes shouted.
Giraldo smiled thinly.
“It is difficult to spend money when you are dead.” He looked Banks in the eye. “I can take you back too?”
Banks shook his head.
“We stay. But we cannot stop you from leaving. Don’t forget to come back, okay?”
“You will not be forgotten,” Giraldo said, and put out a hand for Banks to shake. “Do not get dead before I return. Wiggins and I have much more football to discuss.”
Banks saw that the fear of the workmen had spread to their guides, but also knew that the violence he felt thrum in the room might explode at any second. These men needed to leave, and any attempt to stop them would only make matters worse.
“Go then,” he said, and Giraldo turned away. Wilkes looked ready to burst, and was about to grab for the guide, but Banks stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s for the best this way,” he said. “We get to work without worrying about the safety of your crew, they get to come back when we get it sorted, and nobody else dies.”
Wilkes still looked ready to argue, but Giraldo had already led the crew away, and minutes later, they all heard the thrum of the outboard as it left the dock and headed away back down the river.
The five men left in the refectory were now the only people remaining on board the dredger.
- 2 -
“That went well,” Wiggins said laconically. They’d made their way back through to the relief of the air-conditioned office, and McCally had opened the kit bags.
“I thought so too,” Banks replied. “At least we can get on with our business without distraction now. First things first. Sarge, you and Cally get first dibs. Tour the perimeter, don’t lose sight of each other at any time, and Wiggo and I will join you at the door here in 20 minutes or so. Anything hinky, shoot first and ask questions later. Understood?”
Sergeant Hynd gave him a salute, retrieved his rifle and ammo from his kit bag, and left along with McCally to take the watch.
Banks turned to Wilkes. The man was opening a cupboard underneath where the laptop sat, and came out with a whisky bottle.
“Leave that alone,” Banks said. “Maybe later, but for now, I need everybody clear-headed; even you. Do I know everything you know?”
“I told you. Everybody went so quiet, so quickly, there’s nothing to know apart from the fact that they all fucked off without anybody noticing. And I’m worried that I might be next, so if you’re here to help, start helping.”
“And there’s really nothing else?”
“Apart from sharing the local superstitions, which are local, and superstitions, I’ve told you everything,” Wilkes replied.
Banks saw the truth in the man’s open, almost pleading, gaze. He wasn’t going to get much more than he already knew.
But I need more.
“Okay, what about a guess then? In your opinion, where would be the best place for us to start looking for your boss?”
Wilkes stood and went over to a large map on the wall. He traced the river further upstream with his finger, and jabbed at a spot to the west of their current position.
“I’d start here,” he said. “It’s higher ground, and rough terrain. It’s also where most of the gold gets washed down from, and where we’re ultimately headed once we’ve cleaned out the riverbed. And it’s an open secret about the source of the gold. I’ve heard a rumor, through Buller’s old man, that there’s a German outfit trying to get there first, and it’s my guess, my professional opinion if you like, that it’s them that’s causing us all this grief. Industrial sabotage, for want of a better term. They’ll have the missing men holed away somewhere,” he tapped the map again, “somewhere around here.”
“There’s been no ransom demands?”
Wilkes shook his head. It was all the reply needed. Banks went over to look at the area on the map. There were no roads marked, no settlements, only higher ground and snaking tributaries.
“Does anybody live out there?”
“Not that I know of,” Wilkes said. “There’s some chat of a curse among the workers but that’s more of their superstitious bollocks.”
Banks turned from the map.
“Okay then — how do we get there?”
“Your guide’s boat is the best bet, you know, the one you let him leave in. Failing that, we’ve got three canoes tied up front, but there are no outboards and paddling against the current would be a bastard of a job all the way.”
“A bastard of a job you say?” Wiggins replied with a smile. “In my experience, we never get any other kind.”
Banks gave the private a look that shut him up fast, then turned back to Wilkes.
“How long would it take us to get up there?”
Wilkes shrugged and showed his open palms.
“I’m no expert, but in the canoes? Four hours maybe, and you’d be faster coming back with the current in your favor.”
“And it’ll be at least six before our guide gets back here?” Banks said, calculating the return trip of the one they’d just made.
“If he bothers to come back at all,” Wilkes replied and went back to the desk, reaching for the whisky bottle again and pouring a three-finger measure into a tumbler. This time, Banks didn’t stop the man as he knocked it back in one smooth motion and poured another.
Banks turned back to Private Wiggins.
“Gear up, Wiggo,” he said. “Let’s go find these canoes.”
“Up shite creek again, cap?” Wiggins replied.
“Aye,” Banks said. “But at least we’ll have a paddle.”
They met Hynd and McCally outside by the rear docking area. Banks brought everybody up to speed and outlined the plan while the other three men had a smoke to try to keep the flies at bay.
“It’s only a reccy mission for now,” he said. “I want to get a look upstream a way, so we’ll take two canoes out for a paddle. It’ll be minimal kit for now. We go tooled up, but leave the bulk of our gear here with Wilkes and travel light; water, guns, and ammo only. I intend to be back here in time for our guide’s return, so fast and quiet is the order of the day. Let’s get going.”