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When we got back the watchman said that all had been quiet, so I paid him off and he went away. But the papers had been moved, so the locked cabin had been successfully burgled in spite of – or probably because of – the watchman. I wondered how much he had been paid – and I wondered if my plant had satisfied Metcalfe that we were wandering innocents.
From Barcelona we struck out across the Gulf of Lions to Nice, giving Majorca a miss because time was getting short. Again I went about my business of visiting boatyards and again I spotted the watcher, but this time I made a mistake.
I told Coertze.
He boiled over. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ he demanded.
‘What was the point?’ I said. ‘We can’t do anything about it.’
‘Can’t we?’ he said darkly, and fell into silence.
Nothing much happened in Nice. It’s a pleasant place if you haven’t urgent business elsewhere, but we stayed just long enough to make our cover real and then we sailed the few miles to Monte Carlo, which again is a nice town for the visiting tourist.
In Monte Carlo I stayed aboard Sanford in the evening while Coertze and Walker went ashore. There was not much to do in the way of maintenance beyond the usual housekeeping jobs, so I relaxed in the cockpit enjoying the quietness of the night. The others stayed out late and when they came back Walker was unusually silent.
Coertze had gone below when I said to Walker, ‘What’s the matter? The cat got your tongue? How did you like Monte?’
He jerked his head at the companionway. ‘He clobbered someone.’
I went cold. ‘Who?’
‘A chap was following us all afternoon. Coertze spotted him and said that he’d deal with it. We let this bloke follow us until it got dark and then Coertze led him into an alley and beat him up.’
I got up and went below. Coertze was in the galley bathing swollen knuckles. I said, ‘So you’ve done it at last. You must use your goddamn fists and not your brains. You’re worse than Walker; at least you can say he’s a sick man.’
Coertze looked at me in surprise. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I hear you hit someone.’
Coertze looked at his fist and grinned at me. ‘He’ll never bother us again – he’ll be in hospital for a month.’ He said this with pride, for God’s sake.
‘You’ve blown it,’ I said tightly. ‘I’d just about got Metcalfe to the point where he must have been convinced that we were O.K. Now you’ve beaten up one of his men, so he knows we are on to him, and he knows we must be hiding something. You might just as well have phoned him up and said, “We’ve got some gold coming up; come and take it from us.” You’re a damn’ fool.’
His face darkened. ‘No one can talk to me like that.’ He raised his fist.
‘I am talking to you like that,’ I said. ‘And if you lay one finger on me you can kiss the gold goodbye. You can’t sail this or any other boat worth a damn, and Walker won’t help you – he hates your guts. You hit me and you’re out for good. I know you could probably break me in two and you’re welcome to try, but it’ll cost you a cool half-million for the pleasure.’
This showdown had been coming for a long time.
He hesitated uncertainly. ‘You damned Englishman,’ he said.
‘Go ahead – hit me,’ I said, and got ready to take his rush.
He relaxed and pointed his finger at me threateningly. ‘You wait until this is over,’ he said. ‘Just you wait – we’ll sort it out then.’
‘All right, we’ll sort it out then,’ I said. ‘But until then I’m the boss. Understand?’
His face darkened again. ‘No one bosses me,’ he blustered.
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Then we start going back the way we came – Nice, Barcelona, Malaga, Gibraltar. Walker will help me sail the boat, but we won’t do a damn’ thing for you.’ I turned away.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Coertze and I turned back. ‘All right,’ he said hoarsely. ‘But wait till this is over; by God, you’ll have to watch yourself then.’
‘But until then I’m the boss?’
‘Yes,’ he said sullenly.
‘And you take my orders?’
His fists tightened but he held himself in. ‘Yes.’
‘Then here’s your first one. You don’t do a damn’ thing without consulting me first.’ I turned to go up the companionway, got half-way up, then had a sudden thought and went below again.
I said, ‘And there’s another thing I want to tell you. Don’t get any ideas about double-crossing me or Walker, because if you do, you’ll not only have me to contend with but Metcalfe as well. I’d be glad to give Metcalfe a share if you did that. And there wouldn’t be a place in the world you could hide if Metcalfe got after you.’
He stared at me sullenly and turned away. I went on deck.
Walker was sitting in the cockpit. ‘Did you hear that?’ I said.
He nodded. ‘I’m glad you included me on your side.’
I was exasperated and shaking with strain. It was no fun tangling with a bear like Coertze – he was all reflex and no brain and he could have broken me as anyone else would break a matchstick. He was a man who had to be governed like a fractious horse.
I said, ‘Dammit, I don’t know why I came on this crazy trip with a dronkie like you and a maniac like Coertze. First you put Metcalfe on our tracks and then he clinches it.’
Walker said softly, ‘I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t think I told Metcalfe anything.’
‘I don’t think so either, but you gave the game away somehow.’ I stretched, easing my muscles. ‘It doesn’t matter; we either get the gold or we don’t. That’s all there is to it.’
Walker said, ‘You can rely on me to help you against Coertze, if it comes to that.’
I smiled. Relying on Walker was like relying on a fractured mast in a hurricane – the hurricane being Coertze. He affected people like that; he had a blind, elemental force about him. An overpowering man, altogether.
I patted Walker on the knee. ‘O.K. You’re my man from now on.’ I let the hardness come into my voice because Walker had to be kept to heel, too. ‘But keep off the booze. I meant what I said in Tangier.’
II
The next stop was Rapallo, which was first choice as our Italian base, provided we could get fixed up with a suitable place to do our work. We motored into the yacht basin and damned if I didn’t see a Falcon drawn up on the hard. I knew the firm had sold a few kits in Europe but I didn’t expect to see any of them.
As we had come from a foreign port there were the usual Customs and medical queries – a mere formality. Yachtsmen are very well treated in the Mediterranean. I chatted with the Customs men, discussing yachts and yachting and said that I was a boat designer and builder myself. I gave the standard talk and said that I was thinking of opening a yard in the Mediterranean, pointing to the Falcon as a sample of my work.
They were impressed at that. Anyone whose product was used six thousand miles from where it was made must obviously be someone to be reckoned with. They didn’t know much about local conditions but they gave me some useful addresses.
I was well satisfied. If I had to impress people with my integrity I might as well start with the Customs. That stray Falcon came in very handy.
I went ashore, leaving Walker and Coertze aboard by instruction. There was no real need for such an order but I wanted to test my new-found ascendancy over them. Coertze had returned to his old self, more or less. His mood was equable and he cracked as few jokes as usual – the point being that he cracked jokes at all. But I had no illusions that he had forgotten anything. The Afrikaner is notorious for his long memory for wrongs.
I went up to the Yacht Club and presented my credentials. One of the most pleasant things about yachting is that you are sure of a welcome in any part of the world. There is a camaraderie among yachtsmen which is very heartening in a world which is on the point of blowing itself to hell. This international brotherhood, together with the fact that the law of the sea doesn’t demand a licence to operate a small boat, makes deep-sea cruising one of the most enjoyable experiences in the world.
I chatted with the secretary of the club, who spoke very good English, and talked largely of my plans. He took me into the bar and bought me a drink and introduced me to several of the members and visiting yachtsmen. After we had chatted at some length about the voyage from South Africa I got down to finding out about the local boatyards.
On the way round the Mediterranean I had come to the conclusion that my cover story need not be a cover at all – it could be the real thing. I had become phlegmatic about the gold, especially after the antics of Walker and Coertze, and my interest in the commercial possibilities of the Mediterranean was deepening. I was nervous and uncertain as to whether the three of us could carry the main job through – the three-way pull of character was causing tensions which threatened to tear the entire fabric of the plan apart. So I was hedging my bet and looking into the business possibilities seriously.
The lust for gold, which I had felt briefly in Aristide’s vault, was still there but lying dormant. Still, it was enough to drive me on, enough to make me out-face Coertze and Walker and to try to circumvent Metcalfe.
But if I had known then that other interests were about to enter the field of battle I might have given up there and then, in the bar of the Rapallo Yacht Club.
During the afternoon I visited several boatyards. This was not all business prospecting – Sanford had come a long way and her bottom was foul. She needed taking out of the water and scraping, which would give her another halfknot. We had agreed that this would be the ostensible reason for pulling her out of the water, and a casual word dropped in the Yacht Club that I had found something wrong with her keel bolts would be enough excuse for making the exchange of keels. Therefore I was looking for a quiet place where we could cast our golden keel.
I was perturbed when I suddenly discovered that I could not spot Metcalfe’s man. If he had pulled off his watchdogs because he thought we were innocent, then that was all right. But it seemed highly unlikely now that Coertze had given the game away. What seemed very likely was that something was being cooked up – and whatever was going to happen would certainly involve Sanford. I dropped my explorations and hurried back to the yacht basin.
‘I wasn’t followed,’ I said to Coertze.
‘I told you my way was best,’ he said. ‘They’ve been frightened off.’
‘If you think that Metcalfe would be frightened off because a hired wharf rat was beaten up, you’d better think again,’ I said. I looked hard at him. ‘If you go ashore to stretch your legs can I trust you not to hammer anyone you might think is looking at you cross-eyed?’
He tried to hold my eye and then his gaze wavered. ‘O.K.,’ he said sullenly. ‘I’ll be careful. But you’ll find out that my way is best in the end.’
‘All right; you and Walker can go ashore to get a bite to eat.’ I turned to Walker. ‘No booze, remember. Not even wine.’
Coertze said, ‘I’ll see to that. We’ll stick close together, won’t we?’ He clapped Walker on the back.
They climbed on to the dockside and I watched them go, Coertze striding out and Walker hurrying to keep pace. I wondered what Metcalfe was up to, but finding that profitless, I went below to review our needs for the next few days. I stretched on the port settee and must have been very tired, because when I woke it was dark except for the lights of the town glimmering through the ports.
And it was a movement on deck that had wakened me!
I lay there for a moment until I heard another sound, then I rose cautiously, went to the companionway very quietly and raised my head to deck level. ‘Coertze?’ I called softly.
A voice said, ‘Is that Signor Halloran?’ The voice was very feminine.
I came up to the cockpit fast. ‘Who is that?’
A dark shape moved towards me. ‘Mr Halloran, I want to talk to you.’ She spoke good English with but a trace of Italian accent and her voice was pleasantly low and even.
I said, ‘Who are you?’
‘Surely introductions would be more in order if we could see each other.’ There was a hint of command in her voice as though she was accustomed to getting her own way.
‘O.K.,’ I said. ‘Let’s go below.’
She slipped past me and went down the companionway and I followed, switching on the main cabin lights. She turned so that I could see her, and she was something worth looking at. Her hair was raven black and swept up into smooth wings on each side of her head as though to match the winged eyebrows which were dark over cool, hazel eyes. Her cheekbones were high, giving a trace of hollow in the cheeks, but she didn’t look like one of the fashionably emaciated models one sees in Vogue.
She was dressed in a simple woollen sheath which showed off a good figure to perfection. It might have been bought at a local department store or it might have come from a Parisian fashion house; I judged the latter – you can’t be married to a woman for long without becoming aware of the price of feminine fripperies.
She carried her shoes in her hand and stood in her stockinged feet, that was a point in her favour. A hundred-pound girl in a spike heel comes down with a force of two tons, and that’s hell on deck planking. She either knew something about yachts or …
I pointed to the shoes and said, ‘You’re a pretty inexperienced burglar. You ought to have those slung round your neck to leave your hands free.’
She laughed. ‘I’m not a burglar, Mr Halloran, I just don’t like shoes very much; and I have been on yachts before.’
I moved towards her. She was tall, almost as tall as myself. I judged her to be in her late twenties or possibly, but improbably, her early thirties. Her lips were pale and she wore very little make-up. She was a very beautiful woman.
‘You have the advantage of me,’ I said.
‘I am the Contessa di Estrenoli.’
I gestured at the settee. ‘Well, sit down, Contessa.’
‘Not Contessa – Madame,’ she said, and sat down, pulling the dress over her knees with one hand and placing the shoes at her side. ‘In our association together you will call me Madame.’
I sat down slowly on the opposite settee. Metcalfe certainly came up with some surprises. I said carefully, ‘So we are going to be associated together? I couldn’t think of a better person to be associated with. When do we start?’
There was frost in her voice. ‘Not the kind of association you are obviously thinking of, Mr Halloran.’ She went off at a tangent. ‘I saw your … er … companions ashore. They didn’t see me – I wanted to talk to you alone.’
‘We’re alone,’ I said briefly.
She gathered her thoughts, then said precisely, ‘Mr Halloran, you have come to Italy with Mr Coertze and Mr Walker to remove something valuable from the country. You intend to do this illicitly and illegally, therefore your whole plan depends on secrecy; you cannot – shall we say ‘operate’ – if someone is looking over your shoulder. I intend to look over your shoulder.’
I groaned mentally. Metcalfe had the whole story. Apparently the only thing he didn’t know was where the treasure was hidden. This girl was quite right when she said that it couldn’t be lifted if we were under observation, so he was coming right out and asking for a cut. Walker really must have talked in Tangier if Metcalfe could pinpoint it as close as Rapallo.
I said, ‘O.K., Contessa; how much does Metcalfe want?’
She raised her winged eyebrows. ‘Metcalfe?’
‘Yes, Metcalfe; your boss.’
She shook her head. ‘I know of no Metcalfe, whoever he is. And I am my own boss, I assure you of that.’
I think I kept my face straight. The surprises were certainly piling up. If this Estrenoli woman was mixed up with Metcalfe, then why would she deny it? If she wasn’t then who the devil was she – and how did she know of the treasure?’
I said, ‘Supposing I tell you to jump over the side?’
She smiled. ‘Then you will never get these valuables out of Italy.’
There seemed to be a concession there, so I said, ‘And if I don’t tell you to jump over the side, then we will get the stuff out of the country, is that it?’
‘Some of it,’ she compromised. ‘But without my cooperation you will spend a long time in an Italian prison.’
That was certainly something to think about and when I had time. I said, ‘All right; who are you, and what do you know?’
‘I knew that the news was out on the waterfront to watch for the yacht Sanford. I knew that the yacht was owned by Mr Halloran and that Mr Coertze and Mr Walker were his companions. That was enough for me.’
‘And what has the Contessa di Estrenoli got to do with waterfront rumours? What has an Italian aristocrat got to do with the jailbirds that news was intended for?’
She smiled and said, ‘I have strange friends, Mr Halloran. I learn all that is interesting on the waterfront. I realize now that perhaps your Mr Metcalfe was responsible for the circulation of those instructions.’
‘So you learned that a yacht and three men were coming to Rapallo, and you said to yourself, “Ah, these three men are coming to take something out of Italy illegally,”’ I said with heavy irony. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Contessa.’
