Death in the Andamans (39 page)

Nick stopped speaking, but he did not look at Copper.

‘Um,'
said Charles thoughtfully. ‘A bit tricky for you all round.'

‘Damnably,' agreed Nick. ‘I hope now you appreciate my reasons for suppressing that information.'

‘Like hell I do! I wouldn't like it to be widely known that I'd been recently threatened with a particularly nasty form of blackmail and had soundly beaten up the blackmailer, who was later discovered murdered. People might begin putting two and two together and making the answer thirteen.'

‘Exactly,' agreed Nick. ‘And after all, except for Dan I was the only stranger in your midst and, as Copper kindly pointed out, no one really knew anything about me. In addition to that, there appeared to be no motive for the thing.
“Cui bono?”
is apt to be shouted a bit after a murder, and I imagine
“the victim of blackmail”
is as good an answer as any. So I kept my mouth shut and hoped for the best; both for my own sake and
____
'

He stopped abruptly and frowned.

‘You mean Copper,' said Charles, ‘— it's no good kicking me, Val, my sweet. We all know what he means. It's quite obvious to one and all that half the reason he kept his mouth shut was because he was afraid Copper would give him the bird on receipt of said information. Isn't that right, old man?'

Nick remained silent, and after a moment or two Copper said: ‘Were you in love with her?'

He did not reply for so long that Valerie began to think that he had either not heard the question, or did not intend answering it. But Nick had both heard it and realized that it must be answered. Only he dared not answer it quickly or thoughtlessly. Instinct warned him that if he said ‘No,' he would lose Copper. Only the truth would serve him now. But what exactly was the truth?
Had
he been in love with that electric, red-haired lady? Certainly she had been very fascinating, and he had been quite willing to be fascinated. Even more certainly, she had ended by falling in love with him. But for himself the attachment had never gone very deep, and despite her obvious wish for something more serious, had remained no more than a surface affair of froth and sparkle.

Even that fatal four a.m. visit had been no more than a mild indiscretion. They had been to a dance at the Saturday Club, and afterwards had driven to Tollygunge to bathe. Judith had offered to drive him home, and on dropping him at the hotel had invited herself in for a drink. It was late and he had been sleepy. Too sleepy to be sensible, and not sleepy enough to appear ungallant. Judith had stayed for fifteen minutes, during which time he had yawned at least fifteen separate times. She had laughed, and told him that his manners were abominable, kissed him in the middle of the fifteenth yawn, sighed, and left him — to walk straight into Ferrers Shilto who was returning after an equally late night.

But would Copper believe that? Nick had never cared before what anyone believed of him, but now … Copper's question was still waiting.

He said slowly: ‘I was very fond of her. She was beautiful and intelligent and amusing; and a good companion. Perhaps if you'd asked me that question a week or so ago, I might have said “Yes”, because I didn't know then what being in love meant.'

Copper said: ‘What does it mean?'

‘I'll answer that one,' said Charles firmly. ‘Shut up, Nick! I arrived at the same fence a few months ago, and so I knew the answer before you did. He means, Coppy, that even though he had no intention of getting engaged or married, or otherwise entangled, and had firmly intended to dodge it or die in the attempt, he has discovered — probably with disgust — that the light of Reason has been put out and that he has been forced, against every prompting of intelligence, common sense and willpower, to chuck himself and his future at your feet, because he knows that unless you can be persuaded to pick them up, neither the one nor the other will ever be of any value to him again.'

Charles paused for a brief moment, and lifting Valerie's hand, touched it lightly to his check and continued more slowly: ‘He knows, too, that even if you won't pick them up, the fact that you once touched them will be the only really worth-while thing that ever happened to them.'

Copper said: ‘Is that what it means, Nick?'

‘Yes,' said Nick. ‘It means, too, that even if you turn me down and I never see you again, I shall still go on loving you.'

‘The whole thing in a nutshell!' said Charles. ‘A masterly summing up, combining sentiment, sincerity and a touch of pathos with a manly independence of spirit. Come on, Caroline Olivia, the court awaits your verdict. Make it snappy!'

Copper sighed and looked up at the moon. ‘But Charles darling, I can't rush into this. How do I know that I should like spending half my life in places like Malta and Gibraltar and Jamaica and Java and Plymouth and
____
'

‘Listen!' interrupted Charles firmly. ‘Arithmetic, and not Geography, should be the key-note when selecting a suitable mate. My client possesses large quantities of cash, cleanliness and charm, so let us have no more of this waffling. Do you or do you not take this man for better or for worse? My advice is a hurried affirmative before the offer is withdrawn.'

‘Do I, Val?' asked Copper.

‘I think so, dear,' said Valerie tranquilly.

‘The casting vote,' sighed Copper. ‘The Ayes have it.'

‘Val,' said Nick, ‘would you mind removing your property further up the beach? In about ten seconds I propose to kiss this girl with considerable fervour, and I should prefer to do so without helpful instructions from Charles.'

‘Darling,' said Charles, ‘the man is an ungrateful polyp, and I deeply regret having tendered him my valuable advice during the recent crisis. However, there is an excellent clump of palms on our left, where, under the cover of darkness, I can get engaged to you all over again. Let us withdraw the hem of our garment.'

They drifted away down the moonlit beach.

*   *   *

Mr Hurridge, Deputy Commissioner and confirmed bachelor, had driven out to Corbyn's Cove to smoke an after-dinner cigar and meditate upon the recent dark happenings on Ross.

He would have to write a report. Several reports in fact. It was all very terrible — dreadful! A shocking affair. His deepest sympathy went out to all on Ross who had endured those days and nights of terror: in particular the young people, over whose youthful lives this dark affair would cast an ineradicable shadow. He pictured them sitting in the Commissioner's house, silent and subdued; awed by their recent contact with swift and violent death. Graver, older … I wonder, thought Mr Hurridge, if it would be considered indelicate if I were to arrange a picnic — say next week? A little soon after these recent bereavements perhaps, but I feel that they should not be allowed to mope.

He had been somewhat taken aback, on arrival at the Cove, to find the Ford parked among the palm trunks, but had decided that it must be Mrs Stock — come to be alone with her shame and sorrow.

Mr Hurridge could observe no lonely figure walking by the sad seashore, but on approaching the bathing-huts with the intention of seating himself on one of the wooden benches that stood outside, he became aware of voices and paused involuntarily. The conversation was hardly edifying:

‘It was all my fault, darling!'

‘No it wasn't; it was mine, darling!'

‘Oh no, darling! I was horrid!'

‘You weren't horrid, darling!'

‘Anyway, it was really all that horrid Rosamund's fault — it just goes to show, doesn't it?'

‘Then you do forgive me?'

‘Oh George!'

‘Oh Amabel!'

Mr Hurridge averted his head and hurried past. He was profoundly shocked. It seemed — under the circumstances — little short of indelicate that young Amabel Withers and George Beamish should drive out to Corbyn's Cove with no better object than to indulge in sentimental reconciliations, when after all …

He slowed his steps and made for a patch of shadow where a fallen palm trunk, victim of the recent storm, offered an inviting seat.

It was, alas, already occupied.

‘We'll be married as soon as I can get home. That'll be about April. Oh Val, darling — only four months!'

‘Oh Charles! Oh bliss!'

Mr Hurridge felt like an elderly maiden-lady who has discovered a burglar under the bed.

It was indecent! It was outrageous! Was
Murder
— three murders no less, not to mention one accidental though well-deserved death! — a matter of so little moment that the young people of Ross could thus ebulliently discuss love up and down the Islands?

‘Disgusting!' said Mr Hurridge, and coughed with loud disapproval.

He decided to pause for meditation and a quick cigar upon the sandbank at the far end of the beach. But it was not to be. Mr Hurridge's luck was out and Romance was definitely in.

‘There's still one thing I forgot to ask you. Do you love me, Coppy?'

‘Oh Nick!'

‘Oh
damn!
' said Mr Hurridge.

He wheeled about, tripped over a piece of driftwood, dropped his unlighted cigar upon the sand, stooped to retrieve it and was sharply bitten by a crab, and abandoning it, departed blasphemously down the beach — a misogynist for life.

As Amabel would doubtless have said, ‘It just goes to show, doesn't it?'

A
LSO BY
M. M. K
AYE

F
ICTION

The Far Pavilions

Shadow of the Moon

Trade Wind

Death in Kenya

Death in Zanzibar

Death in Cyprus

Death in Kashmir

Death in Berlin

The Ordinary Princess
(for children)

A
UTOBIOGRAPHY

The Sun in the Morning

Golden Afternoon

DEATH IN THE ANDAMANS
. Copyright © 1960, 1985 by M. M. Kaye. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].

First published in Great Britain under the title
Night on the Island
by Longman

eISBN 9781250089267

First eBook edition: May 2015