Quarrel interrupted his thoughts. ‘Cap’n,’ he said apologetically, ‘beggin’ yo pardon, but kin yo tell me what yo have in mind for we? I’se bin puzzlin’ an’ Ah caint seem to figger hout yo game.’
‘I’ve hardly figured it out myself, Quarrel.’ Bond changed up into top and dawdled through the cool, beautiful glades of Castleton Gardens. ‘I told you I’m here because Commander Strangways and his secretary have disappeared. Most people think they’ve gone off together. I think they’ve been murdered.’
‘Dat so?’ said Quarrel unemotionally. ‘Who yo tink done hit?’
‘I’ve come to agree with you. I think Doctor No, that Chinaman on Crab Key, had it done. Strangways was poking his nose into this man’s affairs – something to do with the bird sanctuary. Doctor No has this mania for privacy. You were telling me so yourself. Seems he’ll do anything to stop people climbing over his wall. Mark you, it’s not more than a guess about Doctor No. But some funny things happened in the last twenty-four hours. That’s why I sent the Sunbeam over to Montego, to lay a false scent. And that’s why we’re going to hide out at the Beau Desert for a few days.’
‘Den what, cap’n?’
‘First of all I want you to get me absolutely fit – the way you trained me the last time I was here. Remember?’
‘Sho, cap’n. Ah kin do dat ting.’
‘And then I was thinking you and me might go and take a look at Crab Key.’
Quarrel whistled. The whistle ended on a downward note.
‘Just sniff around. We needn’t get too close to Doctor No’s end. I want to take a look at this bird sanctuary. See for myself what happened to the wardens’ camp. If we find anything wrong, we’ll get away again and come back by the front door – with some soldiers to help. Have a full-dress inquiry. Can’t do that until we’ve got something to go on. What do you think?’
Quarrel dug into his hip pocket for a cigarette. He made a fuss about lighting it. He blew a cloud of smoke through his nostrils and watched it whip out of the window. He said, ‘Cap’n, Ah tink yo’se plumb crazy to trespass hon dat island.’ Quarrel had wound himself up. He paused. There was no comment. He looked sideways at the quiet profile. He said more quietly, in an embarrassed voice, ‘Jess one ting, cap’n. Ah have some folks back in da Caymans. Would yo consider takin’ hout a life hinsurance hon me afore we sail?’
Bond glanced affectionately at the strong brown face. It had a deep cleft of worry between the eyes. ‘Of course, Quarrel. I’ll fix it at Port Maria tomorrow. We’ll make it big, say five thousand pounds. Now then, how shall we go? Canoe?’
‘Dat’s right, cap’n.’ Quarrel’s voice was reluctant. ‘We need a calm sea an’ a light wind. Come hin on de Nor-easterly Trades. Mus’ be a dark night. Dey startin’ right now. By end of da week we git da secon’ moon quarter. Where yo reckon to land, cap’n?’
‘South shore near the mouth of the river. Then we’ll go up the river to the lake. I’m sure that’s where the wardens’ camp was. So as to have fresh water and be able to get down to the sea to fish.’
Quarrel grunted without enthusiasm. ‘How long we stayin’, cap’n? Caint take a whole lot of food wit us. Bread, cheese, salt pork. No tobacco – caint risk da smoke an’ light. Dat’s mighty rough country, cap’n. Marsh an’ mangrove.’
Bond said: ‘Better plan for three days. Weather may break and stop us getting off for a night or two. Couple of good hunting knives. I’ll take a gun. You never can tell.’
‘No, sir,’ said Quarrel emphatically. He relapsed into a brooding silence which lasted until they got to Port Maria.
They went through the little town and on round the headland to Morgan’s Harbour. It was just as Bond remembered – the sugar-loaf of the Isle of Surprise rising out of the calm bay, the canoes drawn up beside the mounds of empty conch shells, the distant boom of the surf on the reef which had so nearly been his grave. Bond, his mind full of memories, took the car down the little side road and through the cane fields in the middle of which the gaunt ruin of the old Great House of Beau Desert Plantation stood up like a stranded galleon.
They came to the gate leading to the bungalow. Quarrel got out and opened the gate, and Bond drove through and pulled up in the yard behind the white single-storeyed house. It was very quiet. Bond walked round the house and across the lawn to the edge of the sea. Yes, there it was, the stretch of deep, silent water – the submarine path he had taken to the Isle of Surprise. It sometimes came back to him in nightmares.
Bond stood looking at it and thinking of Solitaire, the girl he had brought back, torn and bleeding, from that sea. He had carried her across the lawn to the house. What had happened to her? Where was she? Brusquely Bond turned and walked back into the house, driving the phantoms away from him.
