“When?” asked Burt.
“When what? Oh, her. Just as soon as we get back. I’ve got her down cold.”
Cold. The word echoed in his mind.
Bunny returned with the two-piece plastic shower curtain. She wrapped it repeatedly around his wrists and ankles, making a separate knot with each loop. Burt wondered where she’d become so skilled at tying a prisoner.
She stiffened at the sound of the launch. “There’s Rolf. So long, Baby.”
She bent over him, her hair brushing his cheek. Her lips touched his with brief, surprising tenderness. Her lipstick tasted of mint. She raised her head and he saw her eyes glistening. “That’s so you’ll remember me. And... this!”
He saw her arm move, but he forced himself not to flinch. Just before the hand struck his face, it curved into five bright red claws which tore furrows from his ear to his nose. Then she was gone.
Time became a succession of half-heard sounds: The heavy clump of Hoke’s feet, Ace’s softer tread, the scratch of a match and the whisper of rain on palm leaves. The rain ended; the sun came out and converted all moisture into steam. The walls of the unventilated room became beaded with moisture; breathing was like trying to inhale warm, damp cotton. A rust-colored, eight-inch centipede crawled onto Burt’s right leg, nosed around his trouser cuff while Burt held his breath, then dropped off and disappeared through a crack in the wall.
Burt felt a tingle of excitement when he heard Ace and Hoke in mumbled conversation on the porch veranda; perhaps the seed had sprouted and borne fruit. He was certain when he heard the splintering crack of wood and the protesting screech of metal. The door crashed open and Ace walked in.
“You wanta tell us where the diamonds are?”
“What do I get out of it?”
“You live. We’re getting out of here before Rolf comes back.”
“How?”
“That’s our problem.” He snapped his fingers, and his voice showed the strain of his decision. “C’mon. Make up your mind.”
“I’ll show you,” said Burt. “I can’t tell you.”
They untied him and led him outside. Burt forced himself not to blink, though the light was blinding after the darkness of the room.
“You’ll have to lead me,” he said. “It’s near the fumaroles.”
“What’s that?”
“Where the water shoots up from the ground.”
“Yeah, this way.” Ace caught the protruding end of his belt and pulled him roughly through the tangle of vines around the cabin. “Okay. We’re on the path now.” Burt found it easier to fake blindness if he stared straight ahead with his eyes unfocused. He bumped once into a palm tree and another time sprawled forward with his feet tangled in railroad vines. Hoke guffawed behind him; this was the kind of humor he could understand.
Short, salt-crusted grass crunched beneath his feet. He let himself be pulled along and felt the strength flow back into his aching muscles. He sensed Hoke behind him with the shotgun ready. He knew his life would be measured in minutes if he showed them the diamonds; killing him would be a reflex action not worth debating.
“Okay,” said Ace. “Where is it?”
Burt stood two yards from the ten-foot cliff and felt the spray cooling his face. He tried to remember exactly where he and Coco had found a half-submerged cavern two years ago. Giant langouste liked to hole up there during the day, and they had taken out dozens.
He dropped to his hands and knees. “There’s a hole here somewhere.”
“Here’s one!” shouted Hoke.
“Okay, stick your hand in. It’s out of sight under the edge.”
Hoke laid his gun on the grass beside him and plunged his arm in up to the elbow. Ace watched him, his attention off Burt for an instant. Burt took two running steps and dived off the cliff. He struck the hissing water and clawed for the bottom. The water was clouded with foam and sand particles. He groped along the cliff, fighting against the water which tried to thrust him to the surface. He found a hole and pulled himself inside. He swam into darkness, his lungs bursting, aware that he could be entering a blind pocket. Above him was solid rock. He visualized himself trapped beyond the point of no return, drowning with his head pressed against the roof of the cavern. Then his hand groped into air. He surfaced and filled his lungs with great gulps. He found a narrow shelf where he could stand with his head above water, and began the long wait. No sound reached him except the gurgle of water and the hiss of air. There was no light; no measure of time except the steady rise and fall of the waterline on his chest and the changing pressure on his eardrums. After a time even that became unconscious, like the rhythmic beat of his heart.
It could have been two hours or three when he detected a faint glow coming through” the water from the entrance to the pocket. He watched, his mind suspended, until the glow faded and disappeared. Night-time now. He couldn’t be sure that someone wasn’t waiting at the edge of the cliff, but there was no way to make sure. He dived down and pulled himself blindly through the tunnel. He felt the force of the surf and came to the surface. The gibbous moon in the east seemed brilliant as day after the darkness. The black silhouette of the cliff was unmarred by any manlike shape. The sea seemed unusually calm, and there was no wind. He moved northward along the cliff, swimming silently without raising his arms from the water. He emerged on the pebble beach, found the crevice, and groped toward Maudie’s cave. He saw the yellow glow of lamplight before he entered.
Maudie lay curled up on the foam-rubber cushion, dressed in a green silk dress with red chiffon bordering the neckline. Burt knelt down and shook her plump shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened wide. She sat up, her features swollen from sleep, then pressed her palms against her forehead and brushed the hair off her temples.
“You don’t seem glad to see me.” said Burt.
“Yes, but...” She indicated her dress and sighed. “I wish to change before you come.”
He frowned. “You expected me?”
She nodded. “They say you walk blind into the sea and drown, but I know—”
“You’ve been out?”
“Yes, but nobody see. Godfrey meet me and give me these.” She pointed at a case of bully beef and several cans of ship’s biscuits., “They watch the others, but they never see me.”
The sight of the food made Burt aware of the growling complaint of his stomach. He began to open a can of the bully beef but Maudie jumped up. “You sit, sir. I will serve you.”
Another time Burt might have been amused to see this young girl playing hostess in a gaudy dress too small for her burgeoning body, while yellow lamplight flickered on the walls of the cave. She apologized that he had to eat with a strip of shingle; she gave him water from the Haig-and-Haig pinch bottle, then squatted before him and stared with intense fascination while he ate. Gradually he extracted from her the details of what had been happening on the island.
Rolf and the woman had gone, a fact Burt already knew. Joss and the boys had been told only that Burt was a prisoner, and that if any of them misbehaved he would be killed. That had kept them quiet until Coco and Godfrey had been pressed into diving for his body. When they failed to find it, Ace had decided that he’d been carried out to sea. Joss had then been taken to her house and locked in, replacing Burt as a hostage. One of the men guarded her all the time.
Burt thought it over; apparently the two had given up their scheme to get the diamonds, and settled down to wait for Rolf’s return. This posed a dilemma for Burt: should he try to sneak up, overpower the two men and... then what? He had to get Tracy Keener out of Rolf’s way. (He had decided she must be on one of the Tobago Cays, ten miles away.) Her death seemed a foregone conclusion when Rolf returned; that of Joss and the boys remained problematical. If he tied Ace and Hoke, then went after the woman, they might get free and kill the others out of sheer vengeance. The best thing was to leave the island as it was, let the two men think him dead so they wouldn’t get nervous, get the woman to safety and come sneaking back with reinforcements.