The Sun Is God (18 page)

Will nodded. “And then what happened?”

“Anna ran into Lutzow's hut and took the poor man's hand but it was too late. She may have convinced herself that there was still life in him but he was already dead,” he said.

“That's all of it? That's the truth?”

“I assure you that that is everything,” Harry confirmed.

Will considered this. If he had caught Anna in a lie, it was not an extravagant one. And perhaps, as Harry said, she sincerely believed that she had held Lutzow's hand while he breathed his last.

“How much time elapsed between Anna leaving Lutzow's side and the moment when you and August found him dead?” Will asked.

“Five minutes, not much more than that,” he said.

They had come through the plantations and had now reached the outskirts of the Augustburg again. The settlement looked empty. Empty except for one of the Kanaks who was anointing the hideous Malagan totem with grease.

“Five minutes? Are you sure?” Will asked.

“I did not start my stopwatch, but I do not think it was a very long time. Perhaps ten minutes at the most,” Harry said.

“If I may be excused? There is little I can contribute to this discussion and our walk has quite tired me out,” Christian said. And he did look rather peaky.

“Of course, Herr Weber,” Will replied with professional gravitas.

Christian gave him a bow and scurried to his hut.

“Shall we continue this conversation under the gazebo?” Will asked.

“If you wish,” Harry replied unenthusiastically.

Will and Harry sat at the table where Ms. Schwab's chess game was still lying undisturbed.

“Do you play?” Harry asked.

Will shook his head. “May I see your remarkable glasses?” Will asked to relax the young man.

“Yes!” Harry said, pleased.

Will put on the glasses and examined Harry through them. Like all the Sonnenorden he was a little too self-satisfied, a little too confident about himself and his decision to abandon the modern world. Fleeing civilization for this small island of theirs could never be an answer to the problems of the twentieth century and you would have to be a bit mad to think that August Engelhardt could be any kind of a prophet or guide for the masses. A man who had done that to himself . . .

“There you are!” Miss Pullen-Burry said, coming upon them from another trail through the jungle.

“Here we are,” Will agreed.

“I have been looking for you, Mr. Prior. I am in need of your assistance.”

“What exactly—”

“It is most urgent, you must come at once.”

Miss Pullen-Burry's enormous breasts were swaying from side to side in an alarming manner as she advanced toward him.

“If you would explain—” Will began, but Miss Pullen-Burry gave him a look that he could not read and then, quite suddenly, she reached across the dead air and grabbed his wrist.

“Come, come, there's a good fellow,” she said as if he were a child or an amiable lunatic. Will was too astonished to object and allowed himself to be led across the piazza.

“My glasses!” Harry protested.

Will returned the specs.

“Come, we must hurry,” Miss Pullen-Burry insisted.

“What's going on?” Will asked.

“Fräulein Herzen requires our help,” she answered.

“How so?” Will asked.

“Fräulein Herzen desires to leave Kabakon on the
Delfin
and she is being held here against her will!” Miss Pullen-Burry said, her face scarlet with emotion.

“Is Klaus down there?” Will asked Miss Pullen-Burry.

“He is.”

Miss Pullen-Burry led him along the short path that led to the south beach. When they arrived there was a scene of some confusion. Fräulein Herzen and August Bethman were in the middle of what in Yorkshire would be described as a “fair old do.”

Bethman was naked but Fräulein Herzen had dressed herself.

She was crying, he was yelling.

Contributing to the confusion were Engelhardt, Bradtke, Helena, and Anna. Neither Jürgen nor Misha, the big Russian, were present, but Will had a feeling that they weren't too far off and could be summoned if needed.

Unhappily Kessler and the German naval pilot were talking together on the beached
Delfin
and doing nothing whatsoever to help the lady.

“What is the meaning of this?” Will asked Miss Pullen-Burry as they advanced on the party.

“It is as I explained, Mr. Prior. Fräulein Herzen has expressed a desire to quit the society of the Sonnenorden and leave Kabakon with her baggage. Herr Bethman claims that she is under his authority because of an engagement. Furthermore, the Countess Höhenzollern demands that Fräulein Herzen remain here until the end of her employment contract, which runs until December 1907!” Miss Pullen-Burry said despairingly.

“And Klaus and the German sea officer?”

“Neither Karl nor Hauptman Kessler will interfere. They say it is a private matter and not their concern. Oh, Mr. Prior, this is a clear and obvious case of a young lady being kept against her will. This would not be permissible in England.”

We're not in England you old bat
, Will thought, and said: “Madam, rest assured that I will take care of it!”

“Good! Come now, Mr. Prior, keep up with me.”

When they reached the party on the beach the contretemps had reached some kind of emotional climax. Fräulein Herzen was sobbing, Bethman yelling, Helena and Anna remonstrating with Fräulein Herzen in fast incomprehensible German while the idiot Bradtke was taking photographs of the whole thing with his blasted camera. Engelhardt was stroking his beard as if this were a play being put on for his amusement.

“You must tell Hauptman Kessler to put an end to this. He will listen to you,” Miss Pullen-Burry said and she dragged Will over to Klaus who, it had to be said, was letting the side down rather badly.

“Good morning, Will,” Kessler said.

Karl, the young pilot, finished his cigarette. “Shall I cast off ?”

“You are near your tide?” Kessler asked.

“I am,” the pilot assented.

“Then you might as well—” Klaus began.

“You will do no such thing!” Miss Pullen-Burry said in a voice dripping with cold authority and even colder fury. Miss Pullen-Burry poked the young man in the chest. “You, sir, will remain here until I tell you that you may go, and you, Hauptman Kessler, will assist Mr. Prior!”

“My dear Miss Pullen-Burry, it is not my place to interfere in the private affairs of German citizens.”

“A German subject's rights are being violated and you, Herr Hauptman, are the representative of Governor Hahl!” Miss Pullen-Burry said.

“Bethman and Fräulein Herzen are engaged. This is a lover's quarrel. It is not within my purview.”

Will was beginning to have doubts now too. “Perhaps we should let this play out, Miss Pullen-Burry; often women say one thing but mean quite another.”

Miss Pullen-Burry had turned white with rage now. “You are cowards!” she said.

“I am not overly fond of violence,” Kessler said. “And getting betwixt lovers is a fool's game.”

“Mr. Prior, you must intervene!” Miss Pullen-Burry insisted.

Just then Fräulein Herzen screamed. Bethman had seized the young lady by the hand and was attempting to drag her back to the settlement.

Will took off his straw boater and handed it to Miss Pullen-Burry. He marched across the sand, tapped Bethman on the shoulder, and when the man turned, Will shoved him backward with two hands. “That's quite enough out of you, my lad,” Will said in English.

Bethman swung a clumsy haymaker at Will's face, which he easily dodged before cleaning Bethman's clock with an upper cut to the point of his prominent chin. The German fell backward, poleaxed by the blow.

“I say!” Miss Pullen-Burry cried delightedly.

“What do you think you are doing, sir?” Engelhardt yelled.

“This is not your concern, Herr Prior!” Helena added.

Will walked to Fräulein Herzen, took her hand, and marched her across the beach to the
Delfin
.

“You have one passenger for the journey to Herbertshöhe,” he said and handed her to the pilot, who helped her on board.

“Come on, Klaus, let's get the lady's trunk,” Will said.

Kessler shrugged and approached the little band of Cocovores guarding the trunk. None of them, Will noted with amusement, had rushed to help their prone colleague.

Will picked up one handle of the trunk and Kessler the other.

“You are not to touch that trunk. The ungrateful little thief has taken some of my things!” the Countess said.

Will looked at her grimly. “That's enough out of you, too, lassie,” he said.

“This is a question of theft!” Engelhardt insisted.

“Funny that, I thought all your property was held in common,” Will said.

“Theft is theft!”

“Another word out of you and you'll be eating your coconuts with no bloody teeth. Savvy?” Will said and shook his fist an inch from Engelhardt's long, acquiline, sun-blistered nose. Engelhardt nodded and slunk back.

“Do not trouble yourself, August. We are better off without people of such low character,” Helena bristled.

Will and Kessler carried the trunk across the beach and loaded it onto the
Delfin
.

“Until tomorrow then,” the pilot said dubiously.

Kessler looked at Will. “Do you think our business will be concluded by tomorrow?”

“I bloody hope so,” Will said.

Fräulein Herzen was bawling now. She leaned over the deck rail, took Miss Pullen-Burry's hand, and kissed it. “Thank you so much, Frau Burry, I am forever in your debt,” she said in her singsong Plattdeutsch.

“You are quite safe now,” Miss Pullen-Burry said.

“Excuse me, madam, we must away,” the pilot said and pushed the
Delfin
into the surf.

In just a minute he had tacked the skiff three times and was a hundred yards from the shore.

The remaining Sonnenorden were quite confounded, the ladies and Engelhardt already retreating sullenly up the beach, Bradtke and a now-sitting Bethman staring after
Delfin
as if they could bring it back by the power of thought alone.

Miss Pullen-Burry was satisfied. “Thank you Mr. Prior,” she said.

Will gave her a curt bow. “Your servant, ma'am,” he said.

“You will still be in the book of photographs!” Bradtke shouted after the boat as it cleared the bay.

Will wondered if the man had gone quite mad.

“I must go and make my peace with the ladies, if I can,” Miss Pullen-Burry said. “Thank you again, gentlemen.”

Klaus bowed and Will nodded. When she had gone the two men were left alone on the beach. “Could someone have made off with my hat?” Will asked.

Kessler shook his head. “No, there it is,” he said, picking it up from the sand.

Will plunked it on his head and sat on a large tree trunk that had been cast up upon the shore. He lit a cigarillo. “Maybe this will actually help us,” he said, blowing a line of smoke in the direction of New Britain.

“How so?”

“Their existence here is one of stasis. Breakfast, dinner, sleep, reading, worshipping the sun. Their life is frozen in a routine. At the very least this will shake up the jar full of bluebottles a bit, won't it?”

Kessler shook his head. “I do not know.”

“I
do
know. Why do you think there are no children here?”

Kessler hadn't considered it before and the question surprised him.

“If you're going to build a civilization wouldn't you want children?” Will asked.

“Go on,” Kessler said.

“It's because they add too much randomness. They're unpredictable. The Sonnenorden like things to stay the same. Fräulein Herzen's departure will rattle their nerves.”

They stared after the
Delfin
until it was indistinguishable from the white caps on the sea.

“And I have found out one thing,” Will said.

Kessler looked at him eagerly. “What?”

“Anna Schwab says that she held Lutzow's hand at the very moment of his passing. She was quite adamant about it and I was tempted to believe her.”

“But you did
not
believe her?”

“She was very convincing. Indeed, if it wasn't for Doctor Bremmer's evidence I think perhaps we would be on the
Delfin
with Fräulein Herzen. But Harry told me that Anna did not exactly tell me the whole truth. Lutzow was raving and abusing her and she stepped away from his bedside for a time, and it was during that period that the crisis reached its climax and he died.”

“Of drowning,” Kessler said.

“Of drowning.”

“Most interesting,” Kessler muttered.

“Tell me Klaus, why did you order the autopsy on Lutzow in the first place?”

Kessler shrugged. “This was the second death on Kabakon in a year. Malaria is not uncommon, but two deaths in so small a group and neither of them thought to take advantage of the hospital . . .”

“No that's not it. What was the real reason?”

Kessler said nothing.

“It was Engelhardt wasn't it? What's in the Abteilung III files about Engelhardt?”

“There is no Abteilung III, Will. The Abteilung III is a myth invented by English novelists. But you are right in a way. There was something about Engelhardt that I did not like. The one time I met him at the Governor's residence, I was disturbed by his manner.”

“What about his manner?”

Kessler smiled. “I cannot, as you English say, ‘put my finger on it.'”

“Neither can he.”

“What do you mean?”

“The man's a eunuch. Him and Bradtke. Had their balls cut off in Hong Kong so they could live forever.”

“My God!”

“They're raving mad, Klaus, all of them.”