The Sun Is God (24 page)

“I think you know what he found,” Will said.

Engelhardt shook his head and looked Will square in the face. “I assure you that I do not,” he said, his voice as steady as a Color Sergeant on parade. It was a nice act, Will thought. A very nice act. You could get a run at the Theatre Royal with an act like that.

“Lutzow did not die of malaria,” Will said.

“Oh?”

“Our doctor found water in Lutzow's lungs. He was drowned.”

Will let that sink in.

“Drowned?”

“Drowned. That is peculiar, is it not? How does a man drown in his own bed in the middle of the night, by himself?”

Engelhardt's smile had faded, but he was not bereft. “I have no idea,” he said.

“Think on it,” Will prodded.

“I have no explanation.”

“Think of one.”

Engelhardt rubbed his inky fingers through his beard. “Perhaps I, too, should approach it like a policeman,” he said.

“Be my guest.”

“You have four witnesses who say that Lutzow died in his bed of malaria, but your doctor in Herbertshöhe says that someone drowned him. That does not make any sense, does it?”

“No,” Will agreed.

“Obviously your doctor has made an error.”

“And what about Fräulein Herzen? Why was she so insistent that Lutzow be taken to Herbertshöhe? Why did she wish to go there herself? What do you think she is telling the governor right now?”

“Nothing. I assure you of that.”

“Why?”

“Because there is nothing to tell. Lutzow died in his bed . . . of malaria. Your doctor has made a mistake, doubtless. He will gain notoriety if this becomes a
cause célèbre
, rather than what it transparently is—a simple case of a man in the tropics dying of a common tropical disease.”

Will nodded to himself. He was cool as a cucumber, but perhaps his eye had twitched just a little at the mention of Fräulein Herzen . . .

“Of course we will interview her thoroughly when we return.”

“I am sure you will do your job with consummate professionalism,” Engelhardt said cooly.

Will felt the ice and it unnerved him. He took a step back. Literally and figuratively. He did not want to push the thing just now. Engelhardt was a rum cove and no mistake. It was perhaps better to let the bones rattle around in the soup for some more hours.

“Of course,” Will said. “If the doctor has made a mistake then this whole investigation has been an utter folly.”

“I am amazed that someone of your perspicacity could be taken in. Let our own doctor, the esteemed Bethman, conduct your “autopsy” and I assure you he will find no drowning mark upon Lutzow.”

Will nodded slowly. “You may be right, sir.”

Engelhardt began a reply but a coughing fit from Will stopped his flow.

The smile returned to Engelhardt's face and he put his arm about Will's shoulders. He was a tall man, taller than Will by two inches, but so
very
thin and the overall seemed to extenuate his thinness. A moderate wind could blow him over.

“I like you, Herr Prior, and I trust you. I am certain that you are not going to let a little middling Jew doctor come between us,” Engelhardt said.

Will nodded. “Do you have a glass of water by any chance? As I said earlier, I am really not feeling myself today.”

Engelhardt poured him water from a covered pewter carafe.

“Here,” he said.

Will thanked him and drank.

“
Also
,” Engelhardt said.

“
Also
,” Will agreed. “I must go.”

“To Herbertshöhe?”

Will set down the cup. “We have missed our chance today, but perhaps we shall go back tomorrow.”

“And what will you tell Governor Hahl?”

Will's head was thick. He took a minute to gather his wits. “I have uncovered no actual evidence of foul play. As you say, Doctor Bremmer has likely made some sort of error.”

“I am happy to hear it!” Engelhardt said delightedly. “But if this is your last night we must have a feast in your honor.”

Will shook his head. “That is not necessary. Neither Hauptman Kessler nor I wish to put you to any trouble.”

“Nonsense. It will be the ceremony of the new moon tomorrow. It is an occasion for a feast on Kabakon.”

Will swayed a little on the stool. He touched his forehead. His fingertip came back hot and clammy.

“If you will excuse me, Herr Engelhardt, I think I will lie down. As I say, I am rather . . .”

“I will send for Bethman.”

“I have already seen Bethman. He has prescribed aspirin.”

“You must take it!”

“I will. Good day, sir.”

“Good day to you.”

Will left but instead of going to his hut he walked with his stick as fast as he was able to the beach. The journey was not far but he had to stop several times to catch his breath.

Kessler was standing on the sand gazing out to sea.

“Good morning, Will,” he said.

“Has he come yet?”

“He has been and gone.”

“Damn it.”

“What is it?”

“We should have gone with him.”

“What is the matter?” Kessler asked with concern.

“I fear I may have overplayed my hand.”

“With Engelhardt?”

“He may want to do us a mischief.”

Kessler shook his head. “Engelhardt will not harm us.”

Will sighed. “I suppose we could not have gone anyway, could we? Not without Miss Pullen-Burry.”

“She may not go with us.”

“Indeed not?”

“She is quite enamored with the place. And I believe she has formed an attachment with the American.”

“Schreckengost? You astound me. I would not have thought it. He is as dumb as a post. As dumb as a baseball club I should say,” Will said.

“Miss Pullen-Burry is no beauty.”

“For shame, Klaus, I wonder that you can speak so of a lady!”

“You are quite right. It was ungallant.” Kessler examined his friend. “You look pale, Will.”

“I feel awful.”

“Come, let us return to the ‘Augustburg' and prepare our sea bags. That young pilot will be here tomorrow with the flood, whenever that is. But oh, my goodness, here comes a vessel now!”

It was, however, only the dugout canoe Will had seen on the north shore. It was being paddled by Schreckengost, Miss Pullen-Burry, Christian, and Harry. All were naked though Miss Pullen-Burry had taken the precaution of carrying a parasol.

The sky was darkening in the east—a prelude to yet another storm. The Germans and Miss Pullen-Burry paddled into the little bay. The canoe landed and Miss Pullen-Burry stepped from it radiant with pleasure. “Two sharks and a ray, Mr. Prior!” she said.

Will was almost used to her nakedness now, but he couldn't resist. “You could put them in your book if you had a place to put your book.”

“Saltwater crocodiles also. Thirty feet long, Herr Schreckengost says,” Miss Pullen-Burry exclaimed.

“I shiver in horror, Miss Pullen-Burry,” Kessler said.

While they were standing there next to the canoe on the glittering sand Bradtke wandered in from the plantations with his box camera and asked to take a photograph of them. Will smiled and wondered when he'd last had his photograph taken. Years ago, probably on campaign.

Click went the action and the light bouncing off him was preserved on film.

Half way back to the Augustburg Will stopped to take a breather.

“My dear fellow, you are quite unwell. You must return to bed at once,” Kessler insisted.

“Where do you think I'm going?” Will replied, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“We shall carry you!” Harry said.

“You shall do nothing of the sort,” Will protested, but carry him they did. Schreckengost, Harry, and Klaus making a chair between them.

Thunder was rolling across the strait and it was raining again.

“We must go faster,” Kessler said.

When they made it back to the hut Kessler and Harry helped Will lie down in Kessler's bed.

“I shall take the hammock tonight,” Klaus said.

“Pour me some whisky, please,” Will asked.

Harry poured him a measure of the Johnnie Walker.

“How is your investigation going?” Harry asked, handing him the glass.

Will took a sip of the agreeable spirit. “Our main problem, Harry, is that Lutzow did not die in his sleep.”

“Oh?”

“He was drowned. Someone drowned him here on Kabakon. Who do you think would do a thing like that?”

“No one!” Harry said.

“I think Fräulein Herzen knew who did it. I think that's why she wanted off this island.”

“Stuff! Fräulein Herzen was weary of the countess—that is why she wished to leave. Especially after Bethman was such a bully to her. Drowned? How could anyone tell if Lutzow had drowned? It is absurd,” Harry insisted.

“Doctor Bremmer found water in his lungs,” Kessler said.

“Lutzow died in his sleep. I was there!” Harry said.

“I thought no one was there.”

“Your doctor is mistaken,” Harry insisted.

Pain wracked through Will's chest and he coughed and groaned. Kessler hurried Harry from the room. Will rolled over on his side and dozed for a while. When he came to, Kessler was sitting next to the bed with a look of infinite concern on his face.

“They were lying, Klaus,” Will said.

“Are you sure?”

“Somewhere in this camp there's proof of it,” Will said.

“I doubt that.”

“Why?”

Kessler smiled. “When you all went sun bathing I searched the entire compound. There was nothing.”

“Nothing at all? Nothing suspicious?”

“Nothing at all that I could find.”

“Did you search Bradtke's hut?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

“What about among his photographs?”

“Ahh, well.”

“Yes?”

“A locked album of photographs, which I took to be . . . um, in­decent in nature.”

“A castrato looking at dirty pictures?”

“I have heard of stranger things.”

“Me, too, but still . . .”

Will groaned.

“You must sleep, Will. Here, open your mouth. Take these pills,” Kessler said.

“Yes.”

When Will opened his eyes again it was dark. The hut was empty but he could hear the Cocovores at their dinner. He was cold. He put on a shirt, found his shoes, and walked unsteadily into the piazza.

He joined the table in mid conversation. Klaus looked at him with concern

“Please continue,” Will said, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

“I was asking the Countess how she is related to the Kaiser. I have been consulting my charts of the Royal lineage and I am at a loss to know,” Kessler said.

“He is a third cousin, twice removed. From the inferior Prussian branch of the family I am sorry to say,” Helena replied. “You, I take it, sir, are a subject of the mad princeling in Bavaria?”

Klaus did not take the bait and merely nodded.

“How are you feeling now, Will?” Miss Pullen-Burry asked, touching his forehead after he had sat down.

He was touched that she had used his first name. “I'm not sure,” he told her.

It was raining heavily and between his feet Will saw that the little scarlet crabs were back. He was offered food but he couldn't eat.
But it was a special food to celebrate the new moon
, he was told. He tried a little but it was no good. His head was on fire again. He got to his feet.

“You must excuse me, I'm afraid. I should have remained in bed.”

“Shall I assist you back?” Klaus asked.

“Sit there! I'll be all right.”

As he was walking back to his hut he caught sight of Fräulein Schwab on her knees before the Malagan totem. She looked pale and lovely in the moonlight. It was an arresting scene.

The truly astonishing thing happened next.

One of the black servants came out of the jungle, grabbed Fräulein Schwab by the hair, and with a little screech from her, he dragged her way.

“Ye Gods!” Will said and followed them as quickly as he was able.

He found them two hundred yards away under the trees deep in the plantations. Both Kanaks were there and Miss Schwab was kneeling before a white man wearing a hideous wooden mask that concealed his eyes and face.

Will crouched low behind a wild patch of river orchids.

“Do you still object?” the man asked.

“I cannot say,” Fräulein Schwab said.

One of the Kanaks slapped her face and Anna burst into tears.

“Do you still object?” the man asked again. Will edged closer and recognized Engelhardt's ink-stained beard peeking out at the bottom of the mask.

“No, I do not object,” Anna said between sobs.

Engelhardt muttered something to one of the blacks and he lifted Fräulein Schwab onto his shoulder and carried her bodily back to the camp.

Will shambled as fast as he could back through the plantations. When he made it back to the hut Kessler was waiting for him anxiously.

“Ah, there you are—” he began but stopped when he saw Will's face. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

Will began rummaging in the German's trunk.

“What are you doing, Will? Those are my things!”

“The game's up, Klaus. They mean to do us in. Where's your pistol? Ah, there it is! Now we're talking!”

Will grabbed the gun but as he stood up suddenly his head began to reel.

“Give me that!” Klaus said.

Harry was in the doorway. Behind him the rain was pouring down in great sheets.

The hut was spinning. Klaus's face was spinning.

What was a gun doing in his hand?

Harry was coming toward him. Will heard Helena's voice: “My God he has a gun, he will kill someone!”