Dangerous Inheritance (44 page)

Next morning, immediately after they had breakfasted, as Fleur could not say that they wanted to go to any place other than Kulkudah she told their host that they wished to start at once for the town and asked him to give them directions to it. As she made her request she felt unhappily sure that he would offer to send them in by his cart, which meant that either they would have to go there, or be faced with the difficulty of providing a reason—for which they had already racked their brains in vain—for leaving the cart some miles before it reached the town.

That, it was certain, would arouse the suspicions of the
driver about their intentions. Then, when further announcements were made that the police were searching for them, the Moorman would put two and two together, belatedly realise that he had harboured the fugitives, and the hunt would be up in the immediate neighbourhood. It was, therefore, a considerable relief when, instead, he replied:

‘I should have been happy to send you in with one of my sons, but unfortunately on its return journey yesterday afternoon our horse fell lame; so I fear you will have to walk. But I will draw a map for you of the jungle trails that lead back to the road.'

Feeling certain that their host would consider it an insult if he were offered money for the trouble to which they had put him, Truss asked, through Fleur, if he might buy some lizard skins to be sent to him in Colombo. To that the Moorman readily agreed and they went out to one of the long sheds where the skins were hung to dry and selected half a dozen. But, instead of his own name, Truss gave that of the First Secretary at his Embassy, while wondering a little pessimistically when, if ever, he would be able to let his friend know what had led to his receiving a parcel of skins.

After covering Douglas's grave with flowers and receiving the sketch map and a supply of provisions from the Moorman with grateful thanks, they once more proceeded along a jungle trail, speculating uneasily whether, after a delay of two days, they would find the aircraft still at the rendezvous.

As the elephant road by which the Kuravars had brought them to the Moorman's clearing had led north-east, and Elephant Point was some miles north of Kalkudah, Truss believed that they were nearer the rendezvous than the town, and estimated that they had only ten or twelve miles to go. For the first hour they followed the directions they had been given then, instead of taking a trail that led south-east, they took one that led east.

In spite of the emotional strain they had been under the previous day, sitting quietly throughout it, followed by a night's sleep, had restored their vigour and done much to relieve them of the soreness inflicted by leeches, ticks and mosquito bites; so
they made good going and hoped to reach the rendezvous soon after midday. But during the third hour of their journey they began to fear that, although the position of the sun should have provided a reliable guide, they had lost their way. According to van Goens, for several miles inland on that part of the coast the country was barren, consisting of sand-dunes with, beyond them, splendid beaches; yet the jungle was as thick as ever.

During one of their halts to rest they anxiously discussed the situation and decided that it must be further to the coast than they had thought, so they continued to head east. Then, a mile further on, it was suddenly proved that neither their estimate of distance nor direction had been wrong. Through a break in the trees they saw the sea only a hundred yards away.

Hurrying forward in dismay they found there were no sand-dunes, no beach. The trees ran right down to the water and ended in a tangle of naked mangrove roots upon which the waves were breaking. From where they stood they could see, only a mile or so away to the south, the land curving sharply out in a way that made them feel sure it must end in Elephant Point; but that was no consolation. It, too, was covered with jungle, so no aircraft could possibly have landed there or anywhere along the coast on which they stood.

Bitterly disappointed they stood staring about them in silence for a few moments, then Truss said, ‘Hell's bells! This has put us in a pretty fix. Van Goens said he had never been to this part of the coast, but he seemed certain that the terrain here would serve the purpose. Still, perhaps the country's different on the south side of the point and there's a good beach there. We'd best go and see.'

That was easier said than done, as there was no track running along the shore, nor at a little distance from it; and the mangroves were so thick and tangled that, even with machetes, a way could not have been cut through them at a greater rate than a hundred feet an hour.

Disconsolate and now acutely worried, they retraced their steps for nearly a mile before they found a track leading south and another two hours elapsed before they succeeded in reaching the extremity of the Cape. It ended in a rocky spot below
which there was a sandy beach but it was much too narrow for an aircraft to land on and, as soon as they got a view of the coast south of the peninsula, their last hope was dashed. As far as they could see and nearly up to a small harbour, behind which lay a cluster of buildings that must be Kalkudah, the jungle came right down to the sea.

‘Whatever shall we do now?' Fleur asked in a despondent voice.

‘God knows!' Truss replied unhappily. ‘What a bloody awful let-down. We'd better sit on the rocks here and think a while.'

They sat and thought in vain. To go into Kalkudah would amount to giving themselves up, and that they were determined not to do. To go back to the Moorman was equally out of the question; for a few more broadcasts from the accursed radio would almost certainly lead to their identities being discovered and, even if that did not happen, what were they to do then? At length they came to the conclusion that their only hope now was to remain where they were and pray that the aircraft might come over again that afternoon, spot them on the point and drop them a message giving them a new rendezvous further along the coast.

That such a happening would mean at least another day, or perhaps several, tracking through jungle without a guide, no food other than such fruit as they could find, and further exposure to such dangers as snakes, tarantulas, poisonous centipedes and leopards at night, was an unnerving prospect; but they took comfort from one thing. The more they thought about it the more certain they felt that if Rex had returned from Manila to Colombo in his aircraft he would, having seen the Duke, find some way of getting in touch with them at the agreed rendezvous.

Until they had reached the Point they had been protected from the blazing sun by the shade from the jungle trees, and out there in mid-afternoon it was no more than pleasantly hot owing to a gentle breeze blowing from the sea; so Fleur, who was beginning to recover from the worst effects that watching Douglas die had had upon her, suggested that they should bathe.

Going down to the little beach they found on it many lovely crustaceans, nautilus, cowries, conches, fan-shells and corals. Then they stripped and went in hand in hand. Truss as usual kept in the shallows and Fleur went only a little way further out for fear of sharks and barracudas. The dip revived their spirits considerably and afterwards, lying embraced on the warm sand, for a time they managed to forget the further perils they felt sure they would have to face.

Nevertheless, subconsciously they continued to listen hopefully for the drone of an approaching aircraft, and when they had dressed they climbed the rock again so as to be able to scan the sky in all directions. Time moved on and the sun gradually got lower behind them until the afternoon merged into early evening, and with it their hopes sank again. Yet there was nothing they could do. Having eaten the last of the food with which the Moorman had provided them, they took such poor comfort as they could from the fact that by passing the night out there on the headland they would not be exposed to leeches and other horrors of the jungle.

It was just on six o'clock when Truss first noticed a low vessel coming up from the south. During the course of the afternoon they had seen several native dhows and other small sailing craft leave and enter Kalkudah harbour. Some had come fairly close, which had led them to speculate on the possibility, in the last event, of attempting to steal one from the harbour at night, and trying to reach India in her. They had also seen a small tramp some way out and, on the horizon, a ship that looked like an oil tanker. But this, they saw as it rapidly approached, was a large, sea-going motor launch. When she was almost level with the point, and still about a third of a mile out, turning in a graceful sweep, she headed for the little beach from which they had bathed.

Suddenly they were seized with apprehension. The crew of one of the fishing boats that had passed close in might have reported seeing two unusual-looking figures up on the headland, and the authorities in Kalkudah sent the launch to find out who they were. Then, just as they were about to run for cover in the jungle, a flag was run up on the single mast of the
launch. There, fluttering in the breeze, was the Stars and Stripes.

‘God be praised; she's flying “Old Glory”!' Truss cried, tears starting to his eyes. ‘It's them! We're saved, sweetie! We're saved! Look! I can see my old man standing in the stern, and there's Uncle Simon with him.' Snatching off their red headscarves they waved them wildly.

Ten minutes later, a dinghy having been put out to take them off, they were being hauled on board. Forgetting for once to be undemonstrative, father and son fell into a clinch, Simon embraced the half-crying, half-laughing Fleur, and the crew of four Sinhalese looked on with happy grins.

The dinghy was hauled in, the launch's engine started up and she sped out to sea, while the rescuers and rescued all tried to talk at once in their endeavours to tell each other of their experiences and anxieties during the past three days—days that now seemed like weeks.

After a while Rex said, ‘But you must need a drink. Come into the cabin.' As he spoke he had turned and glanced aft. Pausing, he remarked to Simon, ‘There's that little ship again that we sighted not far behind us early this morning. I expect she's on her way up to Trincomalee. But she's put on speed. Just look at her bow wave.'

For some minutes, forgetful of their drink, they continued to watch her. She was overhauling them fast and now less than a quarter of a mile away. Then, pointing to her, one of the sailors cried:

‘Ceylonese Navy. Gunboat.'

Rex snatched up a pair of powerful binoculars and focussed them on her. ‘That's what she is,' he agreed. Then suddenly he added, ‘That fellow standing in the bow? God help us; it's Lalita!'

At half past eight on the previous Thursday evening, when the Duke had waved Truss and Fleur away from the Galle Face, although he had not shown it he was a very worried old man. As he turned away from the entrance and went up to his sitting room he wondered if age was at last impairing his judgment and sense of values; for he had the honesty to admit to himself that he, and no-one else, was responsible for Douglas being in danger of losing his life, and for Truss and Fleur now being about to risk their freedom.

From the beginning the Plackoff inheritance had meant nothing to him financially. It could not buy him a better bottle of wine or a better cigar than those he bought already, or anything else that might conceivably have added to the comfort or the quiet pleasures of old age. He realised now that he should have left it to the lawyers to handle and then, when Fleur had decided to marry Douglas Rajapakse, made her a wedding present of it.

But it had tempted him to see beautiful Ceylon again and, once there, it had led to his becoming personally involved with the d'Azavedos. Their attempt to murder him and his friends had aroused in him the old iron-willed determination to get the better of an enemy; yet when he had left Ceylon after his first visit that had been anything but satisfied, and he had had to resort to sending the most respected handwriting experts out from Europe to secure a verdict that deprived them of Olenevka.

Even then, it had proved a Pyrrhic victory; for they had partly sabotaged the mine before giving it up, and robbed him of its major asset—the very valuable stock of gems held in reserve to sell at times when the market was most favourable.

Then, when Simon had spoken of his intention to meet Rex in Ceylon, he had again been tempted to pay a visit to the island. At the time he had told himself that it was to enjoy warm sunshine in winter with his two old friends, but he admitted to himself now that, partly at least, he had been influenced by the thought that, somehow or other, he might find an opportunity to make the d'Azavedos pay for having sabotaged the mine and, if they still had the reserve of jewels, take them from them.

The d'Azavedos had themselves reopened the game, by proposing a settlement that would have restored Olenevka to them yet have been of advantage to him; but it had proved to be a trap in which he had very nearly lost his life. After that he had gone into the battle with, in his view, no holds barred. He had killed the father, robbed the son of the jewels then, by two clever tricks, wiped out the expectations Lalita had had of getting back the estate.

All this, in spite of the warnings of his friends that ill would come of it, had made de Richleau as happy as a sand boy. But his friends had proved right. Had he not tricked Lalita out of both the estate and the jewels, his enemy would have had no cause to seize on the chance to retrieve a part of his losses when he had had the good luck to catch Fleur in bed with Truss. That had brought Mirabelle into the game, and led directly to her being murdered.

Her death had been the first fruit of the Duke's obstinate and, to his mind, justified determination to let Lalita retain no part of the Plackoff inheritance. And her death had saddened him because, although she had been planning to betray her lover, he felt that, intrinsically, she was a decent woman who, as an orphan and deserted wife, had been the victim of circumstances, so deserved a happier future.