West of Guam (19 page)

Jo Gar said quietly: “Someone knew. Someone besides your wife, you—and myself. Almost always someone knows. You feared that, or you would not have come to me, asked me to accompany you on this trip.”

Randonn said savagely: “That German, Bacherman—he made money on the pearls. He bought them up, one by one, matching them. It took years. When he lost his money he had to sell them. He knew I’d pay the best price, but he hated to sell them to me. And I knew that. That’s why I came to you. Now—they’re gone.”

The Island detective leaned down and inspected the camera box carefully. He did not touch it.

“There will be no fingerprints,” he said. “But I’ll use powder on it. The camera is an old make—and a cheap thing. You would not use such a camera. You were very foolish.”

Randonn said slowly: “The pearls are gone—but they are aboard the yacht. I thought the camera would be a good hiding place. If I had made elaborate plans there might have been a leak.”

Jo Gar reached for his handkerchief, smiled. He said slowly:

“You do not trust Vandeer. You do not trust me. You have been foolish. Such an old camera. But the thief is clever. When did you see them last—the pearls?”

Randonn frowned. “I had my
siesta
—rose at four-thirty. The blinds were down—the cabin door closed and locked. I took the camera into my shower room. There is no window. I looked at the pearls. They were beautiful. Then I returned the camera to the desk. That was the last I saw of them. The cabin is always locked when I am not here.”

Jo Gar narrowed his eyes and rubbed stubby, browned fingers across his lips. He said:

“Does your wife know the pearls are gone?”

Randonn shook his head. “I was afraid of it,” he muttered. “I was afraid—something would happen. The German, Bacherman—he hated me to have them.”

Jo Gar said: “I will take the camera to my cabin. But I do not think there will be anything learned from it. You have told Vandeer?”

Randonn shook his head. “I just discovered they were gone,” he muttered.

The Island detective looked at his wristwatch. It was twenty minutes after nine. He stood with his feet apart, bracing himself against the roll of the yacht. The millionaire dropped heavily into a wicker chair. He swore bitterly.

Jo Gar said slowly: “The pearls are of much value. As you say, they are aboard. They were taken from this cabin between four-thirty and—”

He looked questioningly at Randonn. The Englishman said: “—and ten minutes ago.”

Jo nodded. “Only you and I—and the person or persons who took them know that they are gone. We will not reach Nagasaki for three days.”

Randonn said: “I think—Vandeer should know. That is what he is aboard for—to know such a thing.”

The Island detective said slowly: “Perhaps he—already knows.”

Randonn stared at him. He spoke in a hard voice, his eyes narrowed on Jo’s.

“You are accusing Vandeer of—” Jo shook his head. “I said perhaps he already knows,” he stated. “You did not have the greatest confidence in him, or you would not have included me on this journey.”

Randonn said grimly: “I was afraid—from the beginning.”

“Why—were you afraid?” Jo Gar asked the question quietly, very quietly.

The millionaire fumbled in a pocket of his suiting, got a cigarette between his thin lips. He spoke sharply:

“I’ve told you—the German hated me. He loved the pearls. He’d never have sold them if he hadn’t needed money to pay his Filipinos, out on the plantations. He knew I had them, and he must have known I was taking them away—when he learned I was making the trip. I should have left secretly.”

Jo Gar shook his head. “He would have known, in any case,” he said, “Why did you come to me?”

Randonn kept his eyes narrowed on the eyes of the Island detective. He spoke in a low, hard tone.

“I’d heard you were an expert on pearls. I wanted your opinion on this Toyen. Vandeer doesn’t know pearls. Once I’d told you about them, I wanted you to come along.”

The Island detective smiled. “Very well,” he said. “Do not inform Vandeer of the loss. I will see about the camera. Later I will meet you on deck. Be cheerful, and say nothing about what has happened.”

Randonn looked uncertain. Jo Gar said:

“You should not have brought both Vandeer and Señor Gar aboard the ship. You see how difficult it now becomes. You trust neither of us.”

The millionaire smiled. It was a hard, bitter smile.

“Very well, Gar,” he said sullenly. “I will not tell Vandeer. You will handle the thing. I am aware of your reputation. I will do just as you say.”

The Island detective got the camera wrapped inside his handkerchief. He placed it carefully under his left arm.

“That is very good,” he said. “I will be near the smoking room in a short while.”

He went outside and towards the stern of the yacht, walking carefully in the darkness. Several times he was forced to stop and brace himself. The swell was a heavy one. When he reached his cabin he closed and locked the door, pulled the blinds shut. He placed the camera on a small table, fixing it securely. The handkerchief he returned to his pocket.

Getting into his berth he lay on his back and smiled. He murmured softly:

“This Randonn—he is a shrewd gentleman. He says that he will not tell Vandeer of his loss. So many shrewd men—are liars.”

The four guests of the Randonns were assembled in the smoking room of the yacht. It was not quite ten o’clock. Captain Howker, of the yacht, stood beside Mrs. Lealand, the wife of Harvey Lealand. The captain was a short, thick-set man, with brown-gray eyes. His white uniform was spotless. Mr. Lealand and John Carris sat together, their eyes on Randonn. Mrs. Carris talked in low tones with Sara Randonn, a fine-looking woman in her late forties. Randonn was talking with Jo Gar and Vandeer; he was saying that the captain thought they would run out of the swell very soon. It was a condition usually encountered off the coast line of Formosa.

There was a puzzled expression in the Hollander’s eyes. As the yacht owner moved away from them and went to one end of the smoking room he said quietly to Jo:

“We are gathered here—for a reason?”

Jo Gar shrugged. Randonn raised a hand for silence, said in a low voice:

“There are aboard two dozen finely matched pearls. They are probably the finest I have seen. I am taking them to a man in Nagasaki, who can reproduce the jewels in excellent fashion. The crew has been carefully picked—many of the men have been with me for years. The captain has great faith in them. You are all my friends. Señor Gar is a man with a splendid Island reputation as a detective. Vandeer has handled my affairs in England for a long time.”

Randonn paused. He said, frowning: “The pearls disappeared from my cabin this evening. They are gone.”

There were exclamations from those present. Sara Randonn cried out in a low voice. The captain’s face was set in a grim line. At Jo Gar’s side, breathing heavily, Vandeer stared at Randonn. He said:

“But I didn’t know—I wasn’t informed that the pearls—” Randonn interrupted, smiling apologetically. He said:

“I regret that, Vandeer. It was Señor Gar’s wish that you should not know. As I said—the pearls are gone from my cabin.” He smiled more broadly. “Fortunately—they were not the real jewels.”

There was silence, then exclamations of relief. Sara Randonn laughed in her rather high-pitched manner. The captain swore softly. John Carris said:

“Good! You already have had them imitated.”

Randonn nodded. “It was not a satisfactory job,” he replied. “But perhaps it has been good enough. I doubt that.”

Jo Gar said quietly: “This being the case, what is your object in betraying the fact that the thief has not obtained the real pearls, Mr. Randonn?”

The millionaire nodded, kept the smile on his lean face. He said in a steady voice:

“I am sure none of the crew did this thing. I am exempting them from suspicion. I feel very certain that the real jewels are quite safe. They are not resting in a chamois bag, in another camera. I regret very much that one among you—”

He stopped, shrugged. Captain Howker was letting his eyes move from one face to another. There was a grim expression in them. Harvey Lealand said in a protesting tone:

“That’s pretty thick, isn’t it, Randonn? You’re accusing one of us of being a thief.”

Randonn said in a hard voice: “Yes—that’s what I’m doing. I’d like to know who took the imitation pearls. You see, I’ve got to know. This trip will take several weeks. We will return together. I am making an offer. If the one who took the jewels will come to me and confess—that person may simply depart—at Nagasaki. There will be no prosecution, no further talk.”

The captain was frowning. John Carris spoke in an amused tone. “And if there is no confession?”

Randonn said grimly: “We will go after the imitations just as though they were real pearls. We will prosecute. And let me remind you that Señor Gar and Henrik Vandeer are aboard. They have each had much experience.”

Vandeer said: “We do not have to land at any certain hour. We can cruise for days.”

Randonn nodded. “I am very curious,” he stated grimly. “I have always played fair. We will investigate the crew also, of course. But I am reasonably certain—”

He checked himself again, shrugged. Then he smiled at those in the smoking room.

“The imitations are worth only a few hundred dollars,” he reminded. “There is a good chance that we will recover them. I will prosecute. Until midnight I shall be strolling about the deck, or in my cabin. A confession will mean absolute secrecy—no prosecution. I give my word.”

He bowed slightly, went from the smoking room. Jo Gar looked at Vandeer. The Hollander said in a low, puzzled tone:

“It’s a strange way—to go at the thing.”

Jo said lazily: “Why is it? The thief has got nothing of value. But he or she remains a thief. And consequently a threat. Mr. Random is a clever man. But you know that, of course.”

Vandeer said softly, smiling a little: “Of course.”

He turned and went from the cabin. Jo Gar listened to the varied comments of the guests for a few minutes, then he went outside and to his own cabin. He looked at his wristwatch. It was fifteen minutes past ten. The yacht was rolling badly. He went to the stern for a half hour, then moved forward. Randonn came along, moving cautiously. The Island detective gestured towards the rail. They moved to it—and stood watching the distant blur of the Formosa coastline.

Randonn said in a soft voice: “You think it worked?”

Jo shrugged. “If the thief knows pearls—it didn’t,” he said. “If the thief isn’t an expert, it may yet be successful.”

Randonn said: “It’s a fearful chance to take. Supposing the thief becomes afraid—believes that he has only fake jewels, decides not to confess—and tosses them overboard?”

Jo Gar said: “It is—a chance. But I do not think the thief will do that.”

Randonn frowned. “I would—if I believed they were not real,” he said. “I’d toss them overboard and sit tight.”

Jo Gar smiled in the darkness. “Why did you agree to make such a statement as you made, then?” he asked in a mild voice.

Randonn swore. “Perhaps I was a fool,” he breathed. “You have a reputation, you see.”

The Island detective said softly: “That is kind of you, Mr. Randonn. I think that one of two things will happen. The false jewels will be returned, or there will be a confession.”

Randonn straightened up. He said: “I hope so. I must leave you—so there will be an opportunity. But if you are wrong—”

Jo Gar tapped his fingers against the wood of the yacht rail. He said quietly:

“Then it will be more difficult, Mr. Randonn—much more difficult.”

At eleven-thirty, as Jo was smoking a brown-paper cigarette in his cabin, there was a knock on the door. The Island detective rose and opened the door—Vandeer stood outside. He smiled at Jo, who stood aside as he entered.

Vandeer touched long fingers to his shell-rimmed glasses and said: “I am inclined to think that this matter is a joke, Señor. Mr. Randonn has a peculiar sense of humor, I know that. Perhaps you are not aware of it.”

Jo shrugged. “Perhaps you are right,” he said after a little silence. “Men with much wealth often joke in strange fashion. Perhaps it is so.”

Vandeer stood near the cabin door and kept his ruddy face towards the Island detective’s.

“If imitation pearls had been stolen I do not think Mr. Randonn would have said anything,” he stated.

Jo Gar said quietly: “It is not pleasant to know a thief is aboard the yacht one owns.”

The Hollander frowned. “But such a statement informs the thief that he has not obtained the real thing. He might try again.”

Jo Gar spread his brown hands in a gesture of admission.

“He might not succeed so well—the second time,” he said simply.

Vandeer grunted. “I am sure it is a joke,” he said. “I did not want you to take it too seriously.”

Jo Gar smiled. “It is good of you—to think of me,” he returned. “Perhaps you are right.”

Vandeer opened the cabin door. He said in a cheerful tone:

“The swell isn’t so bad. It’s growing much calmer. I think that—”