Bahama Crisis. Desmond Bagley

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      Four days later I took Karen to Abaco, and Debbie came with us. It was then, in the presence of Peggy and Bob, that I told Karen that her mother and sister were dead and that she would be staying with her aunt and uncle for a while. She looked at me, wide-eyed, and said, ‘They won’t be coming home? Ever?’

      ‘I’m afraid not. You remember when Timmy died?’ Timmy was a pet kitten who had been run over by a car, and Karen nodded. ‘Well, it’s something like that.’

      Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. ‘Timmy didn’t come back,’ she agreed. ‘Does that mean I won’t see Mommy and Susie – not ever?’ Suddenly she bust loose. She burst into tears and tore herself away. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she cried, and began to wail, ‘I want my Mommy. I want my Mommy.’

      Peggy caught her up in her arms and comforted her, then said over her shoulder to me, ‘I think a mild sedative and bed is the best thing now.’ She took Karen away.

      Bob said awkwardly, ‘It’s hard to know what to say.’

      ‘I know – but the world goes round as usual. It’ll take me a bit of time to get used to this, but I’ll pull through. Where’s Debbie?’

      ‘On the patio.’

      I looked at my watch. ‘We’ll have to get back; the plane is needed. I’ll come across as often as I can – at least once a week.’

      Debbie and I did not talk much at first on the flight back to Grand Bahama; both of us were immersed in our private thoughts. It was a long time before I said, ‘I suppose you’ll be going back to Houston.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said colourlessly. Presently she said, ‘And I thought I had troubles.’

      ‘What happened?’

      She laughed shortly. ‘Would you want to know?’

      ‘Why not? We can cry on each other’s shoulder.’

      ‘A man happened – or I thought he was a man. I thought he loved me, but he really loved my money. I happened to pick up a telephone at the wrong time and I heard a really interesting conversation about the big deals he was going to make and the life he was going to lead as soon as he’d married me. The trouble was that he was talking to another woman, and she was included in his plans.’

      ‘That’s bad,’ I said.

      ‘I was a damned fool,’ she said. ‘You see, I’d been warned. Billy was against it all along because he didn’t trust the guy and he made that very clear. But would I listen? Not me. I was grown up – a woman of the world – and I knew it all.’

      ‘How old are you, Debbie?’

      ‘The ripe old age of twenty-five.’

      ‘I had my fingers burned, too, when I was your age,’ I said. ‘That was before I met Julie. You’ll get over it.’

      ‘You think so? But, God, it’s taught me something and I don’t think I like what it’s taught me. Here I am – a poor little rich girl – and from now to eternity I’ll be looking at every guy I meet and wondering if he wants me or all that lovely dough. That’s no way to have to go through life.’

      ‘Other rich people cope,’ I said.

      ‘Yes?’ she said challengingly. ‘Examined the divorce statistics lately?’

      Her voice was bitter and I could see that she had been badly hurt. And coming to Grand Bahama and seeing how happily Julie and I were married could not have helped much. Presently she said quietly, ‘But you don’t want to be burdened with my problems even though you do seem to have got over the worst of your blues. Was it the talk you had with Mike Pascoe the other day?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He dutch-uncled me, and it helped. It could help you.’

      ‘All right, Tom,’ she said. ‘What would you do if you were me? I know you can’t possibly put yourself in my position, but I’ve told you enough to know about me. I’d like your advice. You know, Billy thinks a lot of you and I respect Billy’s judgement – now.’

      I scratched the angle of my jaw and thought about it. ‘Well, I wouldn’t get rid of your money, if that’s what you’re thinking about. It’s too useful; you can do a lot of good if you have enough dollars.’

      ‘Buying my way out?’

      ‘Not exactly. Are you thinking of being a missionary in Calcutta or something like that?’

      Her laugh was rueful. ‘You know more about me than I thought.’

      ‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t work. Besides, charity begins at home. Now, you’re a Texan. I’ll bet there are poor black kids in Texas who have never even seen the sea.’

      ‘That’s a thought. What are you getting at?’

      ‘I’m working it out,’ I said slowly. ‘Starting from the fact that we’re in the Bahamas with plenty of black faces around. Your black Texan kids wouldn’t stand out if you brought them here, and we’ve no colour bar to speak of. Teach them to swim, scuba-dive, sail a boat – things they’ve only been able to dream about back home. If you brought them out of season I could give you cheap rates in the hotels. They could go to Abaco and Eleuthera; real desert island stuff.’

      ‘My God!’ she said. ‘What a marvellous idea. And there are poor white kids, too.’

      ‘All right, mix ’em up.’ I saw she was caught up in enthusiasm, and warned, ‘But you’ll have to do more than pay for it, Deb, if it’s going to work – I mean for you personally. You’ll have to participate and bring the kids yourself, with perhaps a couple of assistants. It’s something to think about.’

      ‘It surely is.’

      My eye was caught by Bill Pinder, the pilot, who was waving at me. I leaned forward and took the piece of paper he held. It was a message that had been radioed through Freeport air control and told me that Perigord wanted to see me urgently in his office.

      I took Debbie along to the police station which was on the corner of Pioneer’s Way and East Mall. I suppose I could have driven her to the Royal Palm and then gone back, but there was something about Perigord’s message which made me want to see him fast, so I asked Debbie if she minded stopping off. It was a hot day and I did not want to leave her sitting in the car so I took her inside with me.

      I happened to catch Perigord walking through the entrance hall so I introduced them, and added, ‘Miss Cunningham and her brother were present when Lucayan Girl left for Miami.’

      Perigord looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You’d better come into my office – both of you,’ he said abruptly, and led the way. In his office he turned to Debbie and asked without preamble, ‘Are you a good friend of Mr Mangan?’

      She was startled and shot me a swift look. ‘I would say so.

      I said, ‘I haven’t known Miss Cunningham long but I would certainly consider her my friend. Her cousin and I have been friends for many years.’

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