Read Solomons Seal Online

Authors: Hammond Innes

Solomons Seal (28 page)

Two men got out, and I heard Perenna give a little gasp as they moved forward into the beam of the headlights to talk to the guards. One of them wore a white shirt, and his hair was red in the lights. I couldn't be certain who the other was, only that he was an
islander. They stood there for a moment, talking, and then the whole group walked up the road to stand on the edge of the dark line where the charges had blasted the surface. The beam of a torch showed, a pinpoint of light sweeping the gap in the tarmac.

Hans Holland and his companion were there about ten minutes. Then they went back to their car. We watched as the headlights blazed on the figures of the men standing there, the weapons in their hands clearly visible, then swept the red rock of the gulley edge as the car turned. ‘So you're right,' I said.

Perenna nodded. ‘I said it was Hans. It had to be. Nobody from the Buka villages could have planned this.' Her words, whispering in the night, had an undertone of excitement. It was almost as if, against her will, she admired the man for what he was doing. Pictures of Nazis, seen in old films, flickered through my mind. The figure had been tiny, but even at that distance I couldn't help noticing a swagger in his walk.

‘For tonight,' I said, ‘he's a sort of Führer, a little Napoleon.'

She didn't say anything, standing very still, gazing intently as the car's lights dwindled, so intently that I suddenly had the feeling her mind was reaching out to him, that she was imagining herself in that car, a part of the plan he had conceived. Then she seemed to collect herself, and in a cool voice she said, ‘Better get started if it's going to take us all night.'

I nodded, and we moved back on to the tarmac, walking quickly down to the second bend, where the old road was just visible in the starlight. To scramble
down to it would be rough, the darkness of the valley full of croakings. ‘I shouldn't have come.' She was standing on the road, staring down into the forest growth below.

‘You couldn't help it,' I said, thinking she meant the drive up to the mine. But she shook her head. ‘Tim, I mean. I shouldn't have left him. I didn't realise—' She hesitated. ‘It's all so different, and now this plan … I can't do anything for Tim here.'

But I was still thinking of Hans Holland inspecting the blown road like the commander of a military operation.

‘You think he'll pull it off?'

‘Probably. I don't know.' She shook her head. ‘But Tim needs me. I know that – I feel it. And there's nothing I can do, no way I can help him. Only pray …' She looked up at me suddenly, her eyes luminously large in the dark. ‘Have you ever prayed? I mean, really prayed.' She sensed my hesitation and added, ‘I tried prayer in Aldeburgh. But it didn't work. I think – deep down … I found myself believing, but not in God, in something else … the powers of darkness, evil, I don't know what, but it was there in my heart. It scared me. Even there, in England, it scared me. And now, out here—' My hand was on her arm, and I felt a shiver run through her. ‘It's stronger out here.'

‘Come on,' I said. ‘If we're going to get back to the ship, we'd better get started.'

‘Yes, the ship.' She squared her shoulders, bracing herself. ‘Jona's different, isn't he? Much more practical, a seaman, no imagination …' She forced a little
laugh, and then she had stepped off the verge and started down the bulldozed debris of the steep slope leading to the shadow line of the old road. It was a hard scramble, requiring all our concentration so that we didn't talk, either then or when we reached the tote road, for the line of it ran close below the highway and with every step down the remains of the steep track we were approaching the gulley. I dared not use the torch, so that our progress was slow. In places the track was completely obliterated by the rubble of the roadworks above, and there were muddy stretches where the rainwater lay trapped.

It took us over half an hour to reach the gulley. There were trees to our right, and it was very dark, only the sound of water to indicate that we were right below the guards. The track here dropped steeply down the face of the mountain range, and we were a long time scrambling through the tangle of new forest growth that had almost obliterated it. Finally, well hidden from the highway, I began using the torch.

I think if we hadn't returned to the highway, we should never have made it, for the lower we went, the worse the going became, the jungle growth almost impenetrable and patches of swamp water. It was past midnight and we were both of us very tired when I finally made the decision to force our way up the slope to the road. We reached it just over an hour later, hot and dirty, our clothes torn and soaked with sweat. After that it was easy, just a long downhill walk. Twice we had to seek shelter among the trees, once for a car
going up full of men and again when it came down. Presumably the guard at the gulley was being relieved.

It was during that long walk down the highway that my mind began to grapple with the implications of what was happening. Now that I was sure Hans Holland was behind it, I tried to put myself in his shoes, but the more I thought about it, the less I understood it. It was quite inconceivable that he could hold such a large and important company to ransom, a company that had international connections and a worldwide market. And if it wasn't money but power he was after, how could he possibly achieve that with three or four old landing craft and a group of Cargo-crazy islanders? Tooley was probably correct in saying that the mine administration tried to keep clear of politics, but even if the white expatriates stood by and did nothing, there was a large workforce drawn from Bougainville and other islands in and around the Solomons. How would they react? And the fact that Papua New Guinea had only become independent a few years back would not prevent them from reacting very vigorously to the threat of secession, particularly as Bougainville provided such a large slice of their revenue. And any action they took would presumably have the moral support of the UN, the co-operation of those countries where the copper was marketed and the active support of the Australian government.

It just didn't make sense. That he could achieve a temporary success was obvious. He appeared to have done that already. But how could he possibly hope to build on it to the point where Bougainville could
successfully achieve a unilateral declaration of independence? There had to be some advantage for him, something that he was certain he could negotiate before the initial success of the plan collapsed under the longer-term strain of forces that must in the end prove too powerful for him. But what? Perhaps he didn't see it that way. Perhaps he believed that the people of Bougainville and Buka would combine to make the whole thing politically possible.

It was a fascinating possibility, and toying with it in my mind, I began to wonder how I could turn it to my own advantage. Providence had brought me to this island at a moment of intense political activity when events would produce either change or chaos. Whichever it was, there would be opportunities. A selfish point of view, perhaps, but when you're out of a job and looking for openings in a new world, it's not unnatural to relate events to your own personal problems. By the time we reached the intersection with the Kieta road I had more or less made up my mind.

There was no road block now, and no guard. With the mine road blown there was no need. The time was 02.17. Four hours since Tooley would have sent his telex. I wondered what he would have said, what they would think of it at Port Moresby. Or would he notify his own head office in Melbourne and leave them to inform the PNG government? The latter probably, in which case nobody would do anything about it till morning. It would probably be midday before Port Moresby appreciated the situation, and then, even if they were able to establish communications with the
mine, they would still have to convince themselves that it had really happened, and only then would they start considering what should be done about it. It could be thirty-six hours at least before any positive action was taken.

I was thinking about that as we approached Anewa. A lot could happen in thirty-six hours.

The dark rainforest walls that had hemmed us in since we had struggled up on to the road fell back. We were into a clearing, the tarmac shining wet under the stars, and round a bend storage sheds black in shadow. It was cooler now, a faint smell of the sea and the sweat on my body ice-cold. A bridge over a stream, another bend and the road straightening out with the power station's fuel oil tanks looming above us, everything dark except for the double flash of the light tower on Takanupe Island marking the passage seaward. Perenna paused, her head on one side, listening. ‘I thought I heard the sound of a generator.'

We had just passed the second fuel tank, and through the gap between that and the next I could see the huge bulk of the power station itself. It stood in total darkness. ‘Maybe it's the ship.' I was close beside her, staring at the road ahead. Beyond the last tank was the sea. It was lighter there, the road bending round to the left to pass in front of the power station. I was wondering where they would have set up their guard post.

She seemed to read my thoughts, for she said, ‘If we keep to the road, we'll walk straight into a trap.'

But there was nowhere else we could go, the sea
and the stream to our right, and the fuel tanks to our left surrounded by a wire fence.

‘They'll probably have control of the ship anyway.' Now that we had reached the port I wasn't at all sure what to do for the best.

‘I don't care whether they've got the ship or not.' She was tired, and her voice sounded petulant. ‘I just want to get back on board. To my bunk, a shower, familiar surroundings, Jona.'

We went on, moving cautiously under the shadow of the last fuel tank. We could hear the sea, a soft lapping of tiny wavelets. And then, round the bend, suddenly there was the glimmer of lights and the familiar, homely shape of the LCT. It was no longer at the slipway, but tied up alongside the loading wharf. ‘It's still there.' She said it in a tone of weary relief, and she quickened her pace.

The road all the way to the ship was clear under the stars, and it was empty, no vehicles, no sign of movement, nothing, and the power station a huge black block above it with no sign of life. I thought we'd make it then as we hurried on past some small buildings and into the shadow of the power station. Several company cars were parked in front of it, and with the whole building silent and dead, they had an abandoned air like cars in a film sequence depicting some nuclear disaster. I was wondering what had happened to their drivers, to all the men who would have been on the night shift, when the trap was sprung. A powerful spotlight blazed blindingly out from the ship, and turning away from the glare of it, I saw a torch
signalling from one of the small buildings back down the road and figures with guns in their hands running towards us.

I put my hands up, told Perenna to do the same and waited. There were five of them, and when they were close to us they slowed to a walk, talking excitedly among themselves. One of them seemed to know who we were. He spoke briefly to Perenna in Pidgin, all the time watching me as though I were some sort of prize exhibit. ‘We're to go to the ship,' she said. The blacks hemmed us in, and we started walking. ‘It seems there's been a search party out looking for you.'

‘For me? Why me?'

She spoke to the tall, rather stately looking man who seemed to be the leader. The name Holland was mentioned several times; then she shook her head. ‘He doesn't know. Only that they need you for something.' The spotlight had been switched off, and I could make out the figure of a man moving along the wharf towards us.

It proved to be Teopas, and when he reached us, he said, ‘We wait here now.'

‘Why?' Perenna demanded. ‘Where's my brother? Is Captain Holland out looking for us?'

He shook his head, his eyes sullen. ‘Your brother not well.'

‘Not well? What's happened?' She tried to push past him, but he held her back. ‘I must go on board – now.' Her voice sounded wild, tiredness and alarm combined as she tried to wrench her arm free.

‘Mr Hans speak with me on the radio. You do not
go to the ship until he has talk with you.' He was looking at me now. ‘So we wait here. Okay?'

I nodded, and the two of us stood there waiting in an uneasy silence, the islanders talking quietly amongst themselves. Twice I asked Teopas why Holland wanted me, why the ship had been moved from the slip to the loading wharf, but he ignored my questions, standing with his back to me, his gaze fixed on the Anewa approach road.

About ten minutes later the loom of headlights showed beyond the fuel tanks. It was a car, driven fast, its headlights sweeping the bay as it came round the bend, then blazing straight at us. Perenna's face, picked out in the full glare, was white and very tense, her eyes closed, her lips moving wordlessly. I had no doubt who would be in that car, nor had she, and again I was conscious of the powerful effect he seemed to have on her.

The car stopped, and he got out, the red hair limned by the lights, the same jaunty, commanding air as he stood for a moment talking to Teopas. Then he came towards us, glancing briefly at Perenna before turning to me, his face in shadow. ‘Where the hell have you been?' There was anger in his voice, the anger of a man under considerable strain. ‘I've had to waste an hour looking for you. Well, where were you?'

‘Up at the mine.'

Something had clearly gone wrong, and I thought that might provoke him. But all he said was: ‘I see.' He was silent a moment, looking at the two of us. ‘You walked out, then. How?'

‘By the old tote road.'

‘Why not the highway?'

‘You've blown that, and there were guards there.'

He stared at me hard. ‘So you know what's going on?' And then his tone suddenly changed. ‘Well, that makes it easier.' He was forcing himself to relax. ‘I said I might be able to give you command of a ship. You can have command of one right now.'

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