The Mystery of Yamashita's Map (31 page)

Patting Winthrope on the back, Joe made his way back to his hut, opened the door and flopped down the bed. Every time he closed his eyes all he saw was the face of the woman staring at him as if she were imploring him to realise something, as if she were asking him one final question. He told himself that he had heard her, had understood what she was saying. The night was going to be long now and the morning seemed far off.
 

Chapter Seventeen

Dawn came fast in the jungle and life began early in the day. Joe was awoken by the sound of the village waking up and going about its everyday business, preparing bread, feeding children, watering animals and seeing to the myriad daily chores. His last ‘wife’ had left some hours before and Joe lay on his bed smiling to himself, thinking about the few brief moments he had spent alone with Lisa. There was a knock on the door and it burst open revealing Winthrope, smiling and holding a jug of water. ‘How’s my fine bull this morning?’ he shouted, to which Joe smiled, saying nothing.

Winthrope acted as if the night before had not happened. In fact, as he woke up and felt the sunlight on his face, Joe wondered if it had.

‘Here, have some water. The sun is up and breakfast is being prepared. We can go as soon as we’re ready.’

Joe took the water and poured himself some into a cup as Winthrope exited. Through the muffled noises of the village Joe heard Winthrope knocking on the door of a hut he assumed to be either Fraser’s or the professor’s, for he heard the same jaunty greeting being given to another ‘fine bull’. There was something about Winthrope that Joe did not like. It wasn’t the threats or the sudden changes of mood that disturbed him or even the strange look that came over his face whenever he talked about his plan for a new Eden in the jungles of the island – it was something subtler, a hunch that just would not go away. He had met men like Winthrope before, men who had been given too much power, who had taken more than they were due and did not realise that, eventually, everything has to be paid for. Men like Winthrope always had one more card to play, always one more surprise to give.

He drank more of the water – it felt good and cold against the back of his throat – and, then, Lisa appeared at the door. The sunlight caused a halo of gold to be formed around her. She smiled a knowing smile that seemed half regretful.

‘Thanks for last night,’ Joe said. Lisa hung her head demurely.

‘It’s nothing,’ she replied. ‘Did you have a good time?’

Joe shrugged his shoulders. He hadn’t. He felt lower than the bed he sat on but he wasn’t going to bleat about it now; why change the habit of a lifetime and, after all, Lisa would never believe him anyway.

‘What was all the noise about?’ Lisa asked.

‘I don’t know, I stayed in the hut,’ Joe lied. ‘I guess there was some animal loose in the village or something. What time are we going?’

Lisa shrugged. ‘Don’t know, when everyone is ready, I guess. I just saw Winthrope going into my uncle’s hut.’ Lisa let out a sudden giggle. ‘I think he may be in need of more than water this morning.’

Joe liked to see Lisa laugh. It made him feel good inside, as if the world was how it should be. He put an arm around her and she nestled her head on his shoulder. Just the feel of her allowed him to forget the events of the night before. As he closed his eyes and breathed in her smell he realised that he was not thinking about the face of the poor woman who lay in the hut but Lisa, in a better place than this, in Hong Kong or one of the other islands, laughing and smiling.

‘I think . . .’ he began, but Lisa put a finger to his lips. ‘Let’s just sit for a while,’ she said.

In his hut Fraser was getting himself ready while his third ‘wife’ sat on the bed combing her hair. He looked around for his belt and could find it nowhere. He searched under the bed, in the small wooden box by the door, under his shirt, but it was missing. When he had almost given up, the girl on the bed shifted her thigh and produced it from beneath her leg, smiling. Fraser laughed and took it. It was still warm. He realised how comfortable he felt here, how he liked the women’s sense of easy pleasure and fun. He had been pretty straight-laced most of life but here – here was different. There was nothing to hold you back, no conventions, no discernible regulations; nothing to stop you from doing what you felt was right, intrinsically, inside.

He took the comb from the girl, sat behind her and began to comb her hair. She was a little surprised at first; this was the first time any male had combed her hair, but after a while she seemed to get used to it. She leaned back into Fraser’s lap and lay there for what seemed like hours although it was in reality only a matter of minutes.

For his part, in his hut, the professor was grilling Winthrope as to the whereabouts of the gold. ‘You say you know this place?’ he asked, to which Winthrope nodded and said that he did but he could not be sure until he got there.

The professor nodded sagely. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I see, I am like that in Hong Kong. I know it so well and yet only by sight. Once I get my bearings I am fine. You say we can go this morning.’

‘Yes, when everyone is ready.’

There was an awkward silence for a moment.

‘So how was your night?’ Winthrope asked, whereupon the professor’s face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet and he began to mumble and stutter.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I think . . . er . . . I think it was . . . oh dear . . . well, nice.’

Winthrope laughed a loud and hearty laugh, then slapped the professor on the back.

‘Well, a few more nights of this and you’ll get the hang of it, professor.’

The professor looked at Winthrope. ‘A few more nights?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought, I thought that was it.’

‘Oh no, professor – you think our bargain was that one-sided? I need you here for at least – what do you think? Six months? Eden was not started in a day.’

Winthrope flung open the door of the hut and stormed outside in an ebullient mood; the sunlight streamed into the hut, causing tiny flecks of dust to be illuminated. The professor saw Lisa walking towards him. He quickly drank the water left for him and joined her in the open air.

‘We need to speak, Lisa,’ he said in a hurry, and pulled her into the closest hut. ‘I have just been talking to Winthrope. He insists that we stay here for months. He is determined to carry out his crazy plan to restock the village. Lisa, we can’t stay here for months. We need to find the gold and then go.’

Lisa nodded in agreement. ‘But the gun, uncle. I wouldn’t trust Winthrope not to use it and Joe says the same thing. We need to be careful. We must not upset him.’

The professor thought for a while. ‘We need to – how do they say it? Play it by ear for a while. We need to see how things progress. We are looking for the gold today. He seems to think he will be able to get his bearings once he is in the jungle, and I have no reason not to believe him. So, we’ll just see how it goes. What do you think, Lisa?’

Lisa kissed her uncle’s forehead. ‘Yes, you’re right. And how was last night?’

The professor turned red again and stammered. ‘Well . . . shall we go? I think the others may be ready by now.’

As they exited the hut, they realised that Fraser was arm-in-arm with one of the women and that he had taken his boots off. He strolled through the village looking for all the world like a younger version of Winthrope. Lisa waved to him and he raised a hand lazily in greeting.

‘What’s up with him?’ the professor asked.

‘I don’t know, perhaps he likes it here,’ Lisa offered.

The expedition party was organised. There were ten in all: Joe, Lisa, the professor, Fraser and Winthrope and five of the village women. They packed water and food into baskets and carried them on their backs, ready for the trip into the jungle. Before they left, Winthrope addressed the village in his usual manner, telling of his plans to come back in a few days and that until then they should keep him in their hearts. The women and children seemed to take this all in as if Winthrope had some special power over them. Fraser, beside him, nodded every now and then and clapped when he had finished.

Eventually, the party started to make their way into the jungle, tramping over its dense undergrowth and pushing their way through the grasping arms of the trees which snatched at their faces and pulled at their hair. The light streamed through the leaves and painted everything a golden green that seemed to transform the world, making it look as if it were being viewed through stained glass. The group moved in single file, being led all the way by Winthrope, who maintained a blistering pace. Very soon, Joe and Lisa began to lag behind. Every now and then they would assert themselves and catch up to the group but after a while they would find themselves slowing down again.

After about an hour, Winthrope raised his hand and the party stopped walking. He motioned to the professor to let him look at the map. Winthrope turned the piece of paper over in his hands, looking this way and that, scratching his head, turning the paper over and looking at the other side and squinting his eyes.

‘Are we there?’ the professor asked excitedly.

‘No,’ Winthrope replied. ‘A little further.’

This happened five or six times more. Every time Winthrope would raise an arm calling for the map, then he would look at it intently, turning it over and over in his hands, then he would declare that this was not the place and begin to move off. It happened so often that Joe and Lisa began to think that Winthrope did not know where he was going at all.

The air was getting thick as it was nearing midday. Above them the sun beat through the leaves and made them perspire, draining their limbs of energy. Each step they took seemed to sap them of life as the group slowed down to a snail’s pace. Even the women from the village were struggling. Winthrope began to consult the women around him. He would point in all directions and ask them questions but they would just shake their heads or shrug their shoulders.

This continued for almost an hour and all the while the sun beat down on their heads, causing the blood to pound in their temples and the sweat to pour from their skin. Joe and Lisa remained at the back of the group, content to let the others move on ahead, but Fraser stuck behind Winthrope, remembering the way they had come, etching it into his mind in case he should need it later. As they walked, Lisa felt her head began to get lighter and lighter. The events of the past few days began to catch up with her and she felt the world begin to spin. She tripped slightly and fell onto Joe’s shoulders causing them both to stumble into the nearby trees.

Joe propped Lisa up and gave her some water from the bottle that he wore around his waist. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked and Lisa nodded faintly, but she clearly wasn’t.

‘I think it might be the heat,’ she said. ‘I could do with a rest.’

Gently Joe sat her on the ground and ran after Winthrope and the others, but by the time he caught them up they were examining the map again.

‘We need a rest,’ Joe puffed. ‘Lisa is really tired and needs to sit and rest for a while.’

‘Hmmmm,’ Winthrope murmured. ‘I don’t know, we’re almost there, I think. Perhaps just over this ridge.’

He looked around self-importantly, barely being able to disguise the fact that he had no idea of where he was going, but eventually he agreed that it was high time the party had a rest, so a fire was made in a small clearing and some water was boiled. Joe fetched Lisa and sat her near the fire, stroking her hair and making sure she drank the tea that had been freshly made; the professor studied the map. Slowly he turned it in his hands, examining the landscape as he did so. He squinted and placed a hand over his eyes so he could see, then studied the map again.

Eventually he folded up the map and deposited it back into the pocket of his shirt. ‘This may be my imagination,’ the professor said to no one, ‘but the ridge over there looks remarkably similar to the ridge on the map.’

Suddenly everyone turned. The professor was pointing to a ridge on the skyline that housed five trees.

‘I mean, I could be wrong but it does look remarkably similar.’

Fraser jumped up and covered his eyes from the sun. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I think you may be right. Those trees – it’s obviously different from the map but, looking at it, it looks so familiar it must be it.’

Fraser lunged forward only to upset the kettle into the fire to hoots of laughter from the women around his feet. The professor jumped up and picked up one of the baskets at his feet.

‘Come on,’ he said, ‘before the sun starts to go down.’

Quickly the whole group packed up their meagre possessions and followed the professor through the jungle to the ridge that he had seen from the clearing and all the while Winthrope kept saying, ‘I told you we were nearly there, I knew I had seen this place. Yes, this is the place, you can tell by the trees.’