met Bryce at that time. They had become friends, and so Billy Bryce naturally came to Jimmy. Between them they had not sufficient capital for the expedition they needed to mount, so they had to find financial backers. It isn’t the kind of thing you can advertise in The Tftm, and they were working on it when Billy Bryce was killed in his Thunderbird on the M4 near the Heathrow turn-off.”
“There seems to be some sort of curse on this thing,” I said.
“Are you superstitious, Harry?” she asked, looking at me through those slanted tiger eyes.
“I don’t knock it,” I admitted, and she nodded, seeming to file the information away before she went on.
“After Billy was dead, Jimmy went on with the project. He found backers. He wouldn’t tell me who, but I guessed they were unsavoury. He came out here with them - and you know the rest.”
“I know the rest,” I agreed, and instinctively massaged the thickened scar tissue through the silk of my shirt. “Except of course the site of the crash.”
We stared at each other.
“Did he tell you?” I asked, and she shook her head.
“Well, it was an interesting story.” I grinned at her. “It’s a pity we can’t check out the truth of it.”
She stood up abruptly and went to the veranda rail. She hugged her arms and she was so angry that if she’d had a tail she would have switched it like a lioness.
I waited for her to recover, and the moment came when she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to me. Her smile was light.
“well, that’s that! I thought I was entitled to some of the rewards. Jimmy was my brother - and I came a long way to find you because he liked and trusted you-I thought we could work together - but I guess if you want it all, there’s not much I can do about it.”
She shook out her hair, and it rippled and shone in the lamplight. I stood up.
“I’ll take you home now,” I said, and touched her arm. She reached up with both arms, and her fingers locked in the thick curly hair at the back of my neck.
“It’s a long way home,” she whispered, and pulled my head down, standing on her tiptoes.
Her lips were very soft and moist, and her tongue was thrusting and restless. After a while she drew back and smiled up at me, her eyes were unfocused and her breath was short and fast.
“Perhaps it wasn’t a wasted journey, after all?”
I picked her up, and she was light as a child, hugging my neck, pressing her cheek to mine as I carried her into the shack. I learned long ago to eat hearty whenever there was food, because you never know when the famine is going to hit.
Even the soft light of dawn was cruel to her as she lay sprawled in sleep beneath the mosquito net on the big double bed. Her make-up had smeared and caked, and she slept with her mouth open. The mane of blonde hair was a tangled bush and it did not match the triangle of thick dark curls at the base of her belly. I felt repelled by her this morning, for I had learned during the night that Miss. Sherry was a raving sadist.
I slipped out of the bed and stood over her a few moments, searching her sleeping face in vain for a resemblance to Jimmy North. I left her, and, still naked, walked out of the shack and down to the beach.
The tide was in and I plunged into the cool clear water and swam out to the entrance to the bay. I swam fast, driving hard in an Australian crawl, and the salt water stung the deep scratches in my back.
It was one of my lucky mornings, old friends were waiting for me beyond the reef, a school of big bottle- nosed porpoise, who came flashing to meet me, their tall fins cutting the dark surface as they steeplechased over the swells. They circled me, whistling and snorting, the blow, holes in the tops of their heads gulping like tiny mouths and their own huge mouths fixed in idiotic grim of pleasure.
They teased me for ten minutes before one of the big old bulls allowed me to get a grip on his dorsal fin and gave me a tow. It was a thrilling sleigh ride that had the water creaming wildly about my chest and head. He took me half a mile offshore before the force of water tore me from his back.
It was a long swim back, with the bull dolphin circling me and giving me an occasional friendly prod in the backside, inviting me aboard for another ride. At the reef they whistled farewell and slid gracefully away, and I was happy when I waded ashore. The arm ached a little, but it was the healthy ache of healing and growing strength.
The bed was empty, and the bathroom door was locked. She was probably shaving her armpits with my razor, I thought. I felt a flare of annoyance, an, old dog like me doesn’t like his routine disturbed. I used the guest shower to sluice off the salt and my annoyance receded under the rush of hot water. Then fresh but unshaven and hungry as a python, I went through to the kitchen. I was frying gammon with pineapple and. buttering thick cuts of toast when Sherry came into the kitchen.
She was once more immaculate. She must have carried a complete cosmetic counter in the Gucci handbag, and her hair was dressed and lacquered into its mane and fall.
Her smile was brilliant. “Good morning, lover,” she said and came to kiss me lingenngly. I was now well disposed towards the world and all its creatures. I no longer felt repelled by this glittering woman. The fine mood of the dolphins had -returned and my gaiety must have been infectious. We laughed a lot over the meal and afterwards I took the coffee pot out on to the veranda.
“When are we going to find the pogo stick?” she asked suddenly, and I poured another mug of strong black coffee without answering. Sherry North had evidently decided that a night of her company had made me her slave for life. Now I may not be a connoisseur of women, but on the other hand I have had some little experience - I mean I’m not exactly a virgin - and I didn’t rate Sherry North’s charms as worth four killer whale missiles and the flight recorder of a secret strike aircraft.
“Just as soon as you show me the way,” I answered carefully. It is an old-fashioned feminine conceit that if a man pleasures them with skill and aplomb, then he must be made to pay for it. I have long believed that it should be the other way around.
She reached across and held my wrist, the tiger’s eyes were suddenly big and soulful.
“After last night,” she whispered huskily, “I know that there is a lot ahead of us, Harry. You and I, together!
I had lain awake for hours during the night and reached my decision. Whatever lay in the package was not an entire aircraft, but probably some small part of it - something that identified it clearly. It was almost certainly not either the flight recorder or one of the missiles. Jimmy North would not have had sufficient time -to remove the recorder from the fuselage, even if he had known where it was situated and had the proper tools. On the other hand the package was the wrong shape and size for a missile, it was a squat round object, not aerodynamically designed.
It was almost certainly some fairly innocuous object. If I took Sherry North with me to recover it, I would be playing only a minor card from my hand - although it would look like a major trump.
I would be giving nothing away, not the site of the crash at Gunfire Reef, nor any of the valuable objects associated with it.
On the other hand, I would be beating the tall grass for tigers.
It would be very instructive to see exactly how Mademoiselle North reacted, once she thought she knew the site of the crash.
“Harry,” she whispered again. “Please,” and she leaned closer.
“You must believe me. I have never felt like this before. From the first moment I saw you - I just knew-” I roused myself from my calculations and leaned towards her, assuming an expression of simple-minded passion and lust.
“Darling, I began but my voice choked up, and I enfolded her in a bear hug, feeling her stiffen irritably as I smeared her lipstick and ruffled the meticulously dressed hairstyle. I could sense the effort it required for her to respond with equal passion.
“Do you feel the same way?” she asked from the depths of my embrace, smothered against my chest, and for the fun of watching her play the role she had assigned herself, I picked her up again and carried her through to the frowsy rumpled bed.
“I will show you how I feel for you,” I muttered hoarsely.
“Darling,” she protested desperately, “not now.”
“Why not? “We have so much to do. There will be time later - all the time in the world! With a show of reluctance I set her down, although truthfully I was thankful for I knew that on top of a huge breakfast of gammon
