Dennis Wheatley - The White Witch of the South Seas

For a week they enjoyed themselves immensely. To reach Tujoa, Gregory intended to charter a small, private aircraft; and if he was to be there by the time the salvaging machinery was expected he would have to leave Manon within the next two days. Until he raised the subject she had wisely held her fire. At the time they were sunbathing on the beach. Rolling over so that she could lie upon him, she looked down into his eyes and said:

`My love be sensible. As you are so rich, why in the name of God should you risk your life just for the chance of bringing up treasure? If you continue to thwart Lacost and his gang you will be risking your life; make no mistake about it. I'm not suggesting that you should let James down. By all means provide him with the money to go ahead. But let him do it on his own.'

Gregory was greatly tempted to agree. Their long, happy days in the sunshine, swimming lazily in the warm sea, where an infinity of new sights could be seen among the rocks below: the starlit nights and love in the arms of a woman who was always willing but never pressed him beyond his own desires was as near Paradise as anything he had known since he had lost Erika. After all, he could easily send money to James; and why should he chance getting himself killed on Tujoa when he could continue this blissful existence with Manon? Smiling up at her, he said:

`I'll make no promises; still, I'll think about it.'

But next morning a small, chuffing steamer dropped anchor off the main island. Shortly afterwards a native in a canoe arrived with Manon's mail, a week old copy of the

Fiji Times and a cable for Gregory. It was from James and read:

French Resident here insists permit required to salvage from wreck and ten per cent findings payable to Government stop proceeding Noumea but application cannot be made in company's name without producing articles stop suggest you meet me Noumea eleventh.

It was then the 8th and from Fiji too long a flight to be risked in a small, chartered aircraft. Even if Gregory left at once it might be several days before he could catch a connection. He had the Articles of Association with him but they had not yet been signed. Without them, James could get no further. Reluctantly he told Manon that he now had no option but to leave her. She begged him to take her with him. He pointed out that to get to New Caledonia he might first have to fly down to Australia, and said that it was pointless for her to make such a journey simply to be with him when he signed a few documents; but he promised to send for her as soon as he got to Tujoa. With that she had to be content.

That afternoon he left in the motor cruiser for Lautoka. There, as he had thought probable, to get to Noumea he would first have to fly down to Sydney, but, fortunately, the weekly QANTAS flight was due in next morning, and Hunt's got him a seat on it.

By Wednesday evening he was in Sydney. The heat there was even more sweltering than in Fiji, as the city lacked the cool breezes that made winter in the islands pleasant, provided one did not go out during the hottest hours of the day.

He had to wait two days there, but on the 12th an aircraft landed him at Toutouta airport on the south coast of New Caledonia. The airport was forty kilometres from the capital so, during the drive, he had ample time to form an impression of the eastern end of the island. The scenery could not have been more unlike that of Fiji. There was no lush vegetation, no riot of colourful flowering shrubs, no neat villages of thatched bures. Only an occasional palm was to be seen and, had it not been for the heat, no one would have taken it for an island in the tropics.

The road, which was excellent, curved away from the sea through sparsely populated valleys between high, rolling hills that, in the distance, merged into mountains. It was no doubt this resemblance to the wilder parts of Scotland that had caused Captain Cook, when in the 1770s he had discovered the 250 mile long, cigar shaped island, to christen it New Caledonia.

The lower slopes were sparsely wooded by one variety of nearly leafless tree, which made the scene monotonous. Here and there, higher up, there were large patches of what looked like copper coloured sand. These, Gregory's driver told him, were the nickel mines, the deposits of which were the richest in the world, and made New Caledonia a wealthy country.

On entering Noumea, the greater part of which stood on high land overlooking five large and one small bay, Gregory saw the huge factory that smelted the mineral. The chimneys belched clouds of reddish smoke, the deposit from which had coloured the roofs of the nearby buildings and the ships at the adjacent wharf in the first bay. The driver said the smoke was poisonous, but the Societe de Nickel contributed ninety per cent of the country's revenue and its position was so powerful that it could ignore all appeals to spend the large sum necessary to purify the surrounding atmosphere, and paid such high wages that it never lacked for labour. But, fortunately, the great plant was on the down wind side of the town; so only the people living in its immediate vicinity were affected.

A mile further on they entered the town centre and Gregory bade his driver pull up in the big, tree shaded main square, at the Tourist Office. There he telephoned several of the best hotels and located James at the Nouvata. Returning to his car, he was driven past the Baie de la Moselle, on the north side of which lies the port, then uphill across the base of a sizeable peninsula, along the shore of the even larger Baie d'Orphelinat. The southern side of the bay was indented by quite a small one that his driver told him was called Fisherman's Bay. In it there lay at anchor many privately owned vessels of various sizes and, beyond them, a battleship. The driver added that the Yacht Club was situated there and that the big building high up on the point was the Naval Headquarters.

Again the road left the sea front but, half a mile further on returned to it, skirting the Baie des Citrons a pleasant suburb where a number of typically French villas looked out across the road to long bathing beaches. Turning inland, they crossed the base of yet another peninsula, to come out on the last great bay, Ansa Vata. About half way along it they passed a two storey building set in an attractive garden, in which the flags of half a dozen nations fluttered from flag poles. The driver said it was the headquarters of the South Pacific Commission. Two minutes later, the car at last pulled up before the Hotel Nouvata.

Entering, Gregory found that most of the ground floor consisted of a restaurant and a large, circular bar. Beyond them lay a garden and swimming pool, round which fifty or more people, mostly in bikinis or bathing trunks, were enjoying drinks at tables under big, striped umbrellas. James was among them. On catching sight of Gregory, he jumped to his feet to greet him with delight.

Over dinner they discussed the situation. So far there had been no sign in Tujoa of Lacost and his friends; but, James having informed his Council of Elders that definite plans for the exploration of the wreck had been made, evidently Commandant Elboeuf, the elderly French Resident, had come to hear of it and had then proved obstructive. To start with, he had asserted that any treasure trove was the property of the French Government, but later, when James had insisted on seeing the text of this law, it had transpired that if a licence to search was obtained and the licensee paid all expenses, only ten per cent of the value of any treasure found would have to go to the Government. As Elboeuf was an old, and normally indolent, man, James was of the opinion that he had been gingered into this activity by Roboumo, the witchdoctor, who was most averse to any modernisation being introduced into the island.