Get Charlie Noah

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Ben opened the ground with an old pick he had found in a rusty steel locker in a corner of the laundry. The earth was soft but he had to use the jungle knife to remove some of the larger tree roots. His estimation as to the location of the body of Captain Lewis Hampton was governed by the location of two huge overhanging branches of the banyan tree which were closer to the ground by far than any of the others. The first excavation site was under the branch closest to the house. The ground also seemed a little softer there than on the other side of the huge tree.

Less than a metre down Ben uncovered a leather boot. The foot bones were still inside the boot and attached to the tibia and fibula. He slowly unearthed the second leg and then the rest of the bones.

He knew the storm was getting closer. It swept in from the ocean way behind the time predicted by Peter. Lightning flashed and thunder gave its deep throated roar from high above. The sun was almost totally obliterated from view. By the time Ben had placed every bone and the rotted remains of two boots and a leather belt into a canvas bag, he was soaked with heavy blinding rain.

Charlie had watched him from the upstairs window from time to time. She wanted nothing to do with the exhumation of Hampton's body and she still wasn't sure that Ben knew exactly what he was doing.

The storm passed as quickly as it had swept in. This was often a usual pattern for weather in the south pacific. Water continued to pour off the metal roof of the house and into the lush gardens below. Gutters on houses were fairly useless in the tropics. The water from the roof slowed to steady drips and ten minutes later the sun was shining. Ben filled in the empty grave and rather unceremoniously dragged the bag of bones down to the front gate leading into the property. Ben sat down on the grass beside the bag.

'Do you want to tell me what you did with the two women Lewis?' he asked, nudging the bag of bones with his foot.

Other than a stiff breeze from the ocean, there was only silence.

'I've tucked rosemary and other herbs into that bag with your bones,' said Ben. 'You won't be coming back. You can't frighten them anymore. I'll find them you know.'

Charlie walked down the lawn and stood beside him. 'You're starting to scare me Ben.'

He looked up at her. 'I know what I'm doing. Do you want to terminate my employment?'

'You don't have employment with me. You're just with me.'

'Christine's cousin is coming to pick me up.' Ben got to his feet. 'I'll change into dry clothes.'

'Where are you going?'

'Million Dollar Point first. Christine has arranged for another relative with a boat to take me there. Then I'm going to Luganville to get some diesel and a couple of car batteries and other supplies and I'll be back by dark.'

She glanced at the large canvas bag. 'Do you have to bury his bones at Million Dollar Point?'

'It's a long way from here. I need to create some distance. He was American so the least I can do is put his bones amongst American war wreckage.'

'Why? He was a murderer.'

Ben started to walk towards the house. She caught up with him and slipped her arm through his. 'I don't know why,' he said. 'I've got to put him somewhere well away from here and that seemed like as good a place as any.'

'What's in the bag?' asked Bong as his jeep rattled down the mountain with the engine coughing and spluttering and what was left of the brake linings screeching against what was left of the brake drums.

'Bones.'

'Yeah...right.' Bong grinned. 'You keep tumas use my taxi like this and I'll have cash for a new one.'

'What's wrong with this one?' asked Ben.

'Bugger all eh? Ha Ha!'

Ben looked back at the house up on the side of the mountain. He hoped that Charlie would listen to his advice and keep the rifle handy.

The boat owner spoke very little English but with a rather animated commentary from Bong, assisted where possible by Ben, he understood that he was being paid very well to have his vessel available for Ben's use for the remainder of the day. He knew the shortest way to Million Dollar Point and had been previously instructed, had an aqualung, fins and mask on board. The owner of the half cabin boat rejoiced in the name of Foo. Ben assumed it was short for something but Foo would do for the afternoon activities and it was likely that Ben would ever see Foo again from that time. Foo didn't say one word of either English or Bislama between Malo and Million Dollar Point and that suited Ben just fine.

They anchored in ten metres of water quite a way off land at Million Dollar Point and Ben went over the side with his large canvas bag. He reached the sandy bottom, checked his U-boat watch and moved towards the wreckage of hundreds of US trucks, cars, jeeps, tractors, road graders and a variety of other machines which the US military had dumped in the ocean at the end of World War Two rather than just hand it over to the French government who had refused to pay even a small offered price for millions of dollars worth of extremely valuable equipment.

Ben found a huge table top truck lying on its side amongst the twisted metal debris. It was laden with huge metal pipes each about 30 cm (1 foot) in diameter. Moray eels swam in and out the coral encrusted metal pipes. He had no idea how the American soldiers had driven this truck so far out into the ocean where it now rested in over 6 metres of water, but one of the long pipes would be a perfect tomb. He pushed the bag of bones through the opening to one of the pipes and used a long metal rod which was lying amongst the debris to push the bag well down the barrel of the pipe. Ben turned and swam slowly back towards the waiting boat. Next stop, Luganville harbour and shopping for supplies.

'You like Foo?'

'He's alright,' said Ben as the jeep bounced through potholes deep enough to cripple a cow. 'He doesn't speak.'

'No English,' said Bong. 'He learned it at school but when he left school he forgot it. You got some stuff back there in my taxi eh?'

'Just a few things,' said Ben.

'Might not get up the mountain with all that shit.'

'You'll get up alright,' said Ben. 'It's a jeep.'

'It's a bloody buggered up old jeep,' said Bong, laughing.

'What happened to the seats?'

'Rats ate them,' said Bong.

'You'll have to drive me right up to the house this time,' said Ben. 'I'm not carting this stuff up from the front gate.'

'I don't go to the house.'

'Two thousand Vatu extra to go up to the house.'

'Okay.'

'How odd that your fear of the spirits diminishes with increased remuneration,' said Ben.

'Mi sori,' said Bong, shrugging his shoulders. 'Skiusmi...'

'Excuse me my arse,' said Ben, smiling.

The main gate was wide open. Bong urged the struggling jeep through. Ben's heart rate automatically increased. The jeep crawled towards the house. A small dark green Toyota vehicle was parked on the lawn in front of the house.

'Hire car,' said Bong. 'Only four on the island and the Mormon who run away has one of them.'

'Shit!' said Ben as he leapt out of the jeep before it had stopped. He rushed up the stairs.

Charlie opened the front door and stepped out. 'I didn't expect you till after dark.' She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. 'Now you can work your magic cooking on me and my friend as well.'

'What friend?'

A tall, stunningly good looking woman walked from the doorway and stood next to Charlie. She had long black hair which fell down below her shoulders. Her eyes were blue. She wore an oversize white shirt unbuttoned down to the top of her black lace bra. The long sleeves were rolled up. Her tight jeans were black as were her sandals. 'I'm Tara,' she said. 'You must be Ben.'

"****"