She slipped out of the duffel coat and the shoes and went quickly up the companionway. A moment later Keeton heard the splash as she hit the water.
‘Damn her!’ he muttered, but without conviction.
Chapter Seven
Full Crew
When the girl had gone Keeton unlocked a drawer under the chart table and took out a Colt .45 revolver. He loaded the weapon and before turning in for the night he placed it within easy reach. There would be no more surgical work from Mr Smith.
He awoke suddenly with the certainty that he was not alone in the cabin. Beyond the foot of his bunk he could see a thin pencil of light playing on the chart table and the shadowy outline of a man. He heard the faint rustle of paper and then a low exclamation.
‘Ah!’
Keeton reached for the revolver and sat up with the butt gripped in his right hand and his finger curled round the trigger.
‘Stop right there,’ he said.
The small electric torch that had been supplying the light went out immediately. Keeton heard the swift patter of bare feet and fired in the direction of the sound. There was no answering cry of pain to indicate that the shot had found its mark and the intruder was obviously no longer in the cabin.
Keeton rolled off the bunk and stumbled to the companionway and up into the cockpit. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of a naked figure silhouetted against the night sky. He levelled the revolver, but before he could fire the target had gone. There was a splash; he rushed to the side and peered down into the water, but could see no one; whoever the visitor had been he must have been a good underwater swimmer. Neither Rains nor Smith seemed to fit that description, and that left only Ferguson as a likely candidate.
‘That damned scribe‚’ Keeton muttered. ‘It’s a pity I didn’t wing him.’
He went back into the cabin and lit the oil lamp that was slung in gimbals on a bracket screwed to the bulkhead above the chart table. At once his eye was caught by the charts on the table. When he had gone to sleep they had been stowed away in a locked drawer. He looked at the drawer and saw that it had been forced; a thin steel lever lay on the table beside the charts. He turned his attention to the topmost chart, the one that Ferguson — if it had indeed been he — had been examining; it was the one on which the reef was marked. There was even a cross, which Keeton himself had drawn, at the spot where the Valparaiso lay. If the name of the ship had been written in the meaning of that cross it could not have been more evident to anyone who already knew as much as Ferguson did. The question now was, had he had time to read off and memorise the exact bearings or had he merely got a rough idea of the position of the reef? Even the latter might be enough for Rains, and it looked now as though the treasure hunt might develop into a race.
Keeton lit a cigarette and came to the conclusion that there was no more time to waste.
Dring came on board early in the morning, rowing himself out in a borrowed boat.
‘Val tells me you had visitors yesterday.’ He looked at the dressing on Keeton’s chest. ‘She didn’t think they were as friendly as they might have been.’
‘I gathered she had that idea‚’ Keeton said drily.
‘What’s the story?’
There isn’t one. Will you be ready to start tomorrow?’
Dring raised his eyebrows. ‘So you’re in a hurry now. Could that be because of what happened?’
‘Does it make any difference?’
Dring sat down and scratched his chin. ‘I’m not saying it does make any difference, but I don’t think you’ve been altogether frank with me.’
‘No?’
‘No, sir. I think pearl fishing is just so much eyewash. I think there’s something else that’s driving you. And what’s more, I’d say it had some connection with three other gentlemen, a sliced-up chest and a sudden desire to get away fast. Am I right?’
‘If you were right, would it stop you coming? Would you be scared of those three jokers?’
Dring laughed; he sounded genuinely amused. ‘Do I look the sort that scares easy?’
Keeton gave him a long, cool, appraising stare. Then he said: ‘No, Ben; I’d say not.’
‘So that’s settled‚’ Dring said. ‘And if you don’t want to tell me what it’s all about, OK.’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘That’s so. And I’d come along just for that. I’m burned up with curiosity.’
Keeton had half a mind to tell Dring the truth then and there, but he decided against it. If he told Dring that a million pounds’ worth of gold was involved the Australian might start to bargain; he might even demand a half-share as Rains had done. Or on the other hand he might insist on telling the Australian authorities where their gold had gone. It was wisest to keep him in the dark.
‘Do you think there’ll be any more trouble from the boyfriends?’ Dring asked.
‘I’ll be amazed if there isn’t.’
‘You got any armament?’
Keeton showed him the Colt.
‘Useful‚’ Dring said approvingly. ‘I’ll bring my Luger as well.’
By nightfall they had everything ready: the yawl was stocked with fresh water, provisions and fuel. The aqualungs were stowed in the forward cabin together with a lightweight compressor for replenishing the air cylinders. Dring himself had constructed it from a small two-stroke engine and tubular framing. It was easy to manhandle.
‘I heard something in town‚’ Dring said when he came on board in the evening. ‘Those three tough boys left early. Went away in a car, Ferguson driving. Seems we aren’t going to be troubled with them after all.’
‘Maybe‚’ Keeton said. ‘And maybe not.’
Dring slept on board. They had decided to sail early in the morning.
Keeton woke once during the night. The yawl was rolling very gently. He listened for a while to the sound of water lapping against the side, then went to sleep again.
They left the anchorage under power, but once out to sea with the wind freshening they cut the engine and hoisted sail. Gradually Australia faded astern, and once again Keeton found himself heading for the reef and the treasure of the Valparaiso, the treasure which this time he would surely make his own.
The wind held all day and the log ticked off the miles. The sun glittered on the water and the foam hissed away from the bows. The two men talked little, but Keeton, rather to his own surprise, found himself glad of Dring’s company.
Once he remarked: ‘I worked three years for this boat.’ And then, half-angry with himself, wondered why he had felt it necessary to impart this information.
‘You could have worked for something worse.’
Keeton discovered the girl that evening. Leaving Dring at the helm he went for’ard to make sure that everything was secure for the night and thought he heard a noise in the spare cabin. When he pushed back the hatch he saw her.
‘You!’
She climbed out of the cabin. She was wearing jeans and a shirt. She looked nervous but defiant.
‘How did you get in there?’
‘I swam out last night and climbed on board.’
He wondered whether it had been that which had wakened him. It made no difference now. She was here.
He said: ‘I suppose your brother was in on this?’
‘No‚’ she said. ‘He knew nothing about it.’
They went aft and Dring said, grinning: ‘I told you that kid had a will of her own.’
‘We’ll have to put back‚’ Keeton said, and added bitterly, ‘This will lose us a couple of days at least.’
‘I don’t want to go back‚’ Valerie said. ‘I want to come with you.’