After dinner, when Pauline had gone upstairs, and Sarah and Tyee had retired to the kitchen with the dishes, Harold sat by candlelight with Colin Knight in his library. He showed him book after book, document after document, until the table was heaped high with them. Each related to Supay, and the demon's terrible powers. By the time midnight struck, he was quite convinced that they were up against a force so cold and malevolent that by comparison it made Satan seem positively cozy.309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvfqqV5w2S8
Harold said to him, "Bringing Supay up to the surface seems quite urgent now, doesn't it?"
The old man sniffed, and shrugged. "It's hard to say. This present activity may be caused by nothing more than exceptionally warm currents, flowing over the wreck. Supay responds to warmth, remember, and is rendered immobile by intense cold. Maybe when winter comes, the manifestations will die down again. But personally I would rather not take the risk; quite apart from the desire that I have to free my ancestor from Machukuna. The interest that you and your friends have shown in locating the George Badger will prove to be a Godsend, I believe."
"Mr. Knight," Harold said uncomfortably, "I'm afraid to say that my friends and I have had a falling out."
"Oh dear! Will this adversely affect the salvage?"
"I'm sorry to say that it might. You see, my friends, being professional museum archivists, are anxious to preserve the wreck itself in the exact condition in which it has been found. I know that's understandable, and likely admirable, too; or at least it would be if we were dealing with nothing more than an ordinary wreck. The trouble is that if the wreck is going to be properly preserved, the process of bringing up the copper vessel is going to take considerably longer than I first believed. It might not even be brought up this diving season."
"You mean Supay may be left lying down there for another year?"
"More than likely. I argued against it, but the rest of them wouldn't budge. None of them have been haunted by dead wives, or ghostly brothers. They believe in Supay, for sure, but they don't really understand what they're up against. Their attitude is too academic. They can't see the urgency."
Old man Knight looked down at the heaps of books and papers. "Maybe they ought to come see these," he said. "Maybe then they'd understand."
"There's no time for that, Mr. Knight. Miss Champion told me this evening that Mr. Trotter proposes to register ownership of the wreck tomorrow, which would make it an offense for anyone else to damage it or exploit it; and that the coastguard are likely to start patrolling. Remember that Mr. Trotter works for the Peabody, which is a powerful Salem establishment; and that the Salem authorities will give him all the protection and encouragement he needs. After all, the George Badger is going to be a big tourist attraction, once she's raised."
"Not if they don't make every effort to control Supay," said Mr. Knight, darkly.
"That's another point. Mr. Trotter isn't going to deliver Supay to you right away, like he promised. He's decided to take a good look at it first, to see what it is that you want so badly."
"He's insane!" said Mr. Knight. "He'll be torn to pieces! Doesn't he know what Supay is, even now? You must stop him! Mr. Winstanley, you must do anything you can to stop him!"
Harold shook his head. "I can't do anything, Mr. Knight. He's made up his mind. Wreck first, Supay second, open the copper vessel third. Pauline---that's Miss Champion---Pauline says he won't be swayed."
Colin Knight was extremely agitated. He walked around the table, and then back again, and then he closed all the books he had opened, one after the other, in a succession of snaps. At last he looked up at Harold and said, "You must dive on the George Badger the very first thing tomorrow morning. You must bring up that copper vessel whatever the cost. Otherwise, my God, the world will see such havoc as has never been seen in nine lifetimes."
"That's what I was going to propose," Harold told him. "A quick dive, first thing tomorrow, with two crowbars and a winch."
"Crowbars will not be adequate," Colin Knight told him. "Look here."
He shuffled through his heaps of papers until he found a sketch-map of the Mary Rose which had been studying in an effort to understand the problems that faced them with the George Badger. "The copper vessel is in the hole," he said. "That means, even if the ship is lying at an angle of 30 degrees, you will still have to penetrate your way through three decks and God knows how many tons of silt before you reach it. I can see why Mr. Trotter is so reluctant to bring it up in a hurry. The only way to reach it in a reasonable length of time is to tear the decks wide apart. The copper vessel in fact is so long that it is quite possible that part of each deck was lifted at the time to accommodate it, and then fastened down again once it was securely stowed."
"Then how the hell am I going to get it out of there in one morning's diving?" Harold wanted to know.
"Simple," said old man Knight. "I have an old friend that has a demolition business at Lexington. Tyee will drive over there now and collect two cases of dynamite, and some underwater fuses."
"Dynamite? I've never used dynamite in my life. You mean you want me to blow the George Badger to pieces?"
"Can you think of any other way to reach Supay before the wreck is registered, and the coastguard prevents anyone from getting near?"
"I...." Harold began, and then raised his hands in resignation.
"You mustn't worry," said Colin Knight. "Tyee is an expert diver, and he will swim with you. He knows Mr. Patterson of the Salem Salvage Company; years ago they used to dive together. Mr. Patterson will let us use his boat and all his equipment. I will ask Tyee to call him as soon as he returns from Lexington."
"Do you think Tyee is up to it?" Harold asked. "He must be at least 60 years old."
"Tyee has been here at Summerworth ever since I was a child," said Colin Knight. "My father used to talk about the rides that Tyee gave him on his back when he was a child."
"You can't be serious! That'd make him..."
"Well over a hundred years old," Colin Knight nodded. "Yes. I have often thought about it myself. But it is not a question which one can put to Tyee. He would never answer; and it is quite likely that he would walk out and I would never see him again. But it is interesting to note that there is a Tyee mentioned in Herbert Knight's diary of 1689."
Harold stayed silent. In Colin Knight's house, he felt himself to be on strange and almost magical territory. It wasn't altogether a frightening sensation, but he felt that he had to conduct himself with caution. There was great influence here that couldn't be explained scientifically, and as long as he behaved wisely, he would probably be able to use it for his own benefit.
"It would be sensible for you to get some sleep now," said Colin Knight. "I will have Tyee wake you at 6:00. Over breakfast, I shall explain how you will use the dynamite on the George Badger."
Harold god up. "Goodnight, then," he said. "And thanks again for putting me up here."
"It's a question of mutual interests," said old man Knight, and went back to reading one of his books before he could say anything else. It was only when he was halfway up the dark staircase, on the way to bed, that he realized what he had actually let himself in for. An illegal underwater demolition job, despite the fact that he had barely any experience of diving, and no experience at all with dynamite.
Pauline was sitting up in bed when he came in; and there was a warm fragrance of perfume around. She was reading A History of Oceanic Geology. He sat down on the end of the bed, and stripped off his necktie. "Good?" Harold asked her, nodding towards the book.
"Riveting," she said. "What kept you so long."
"Old man Knight and his musty old documents. No, I shouldn't say that. He's fascinating, especially when it comes to the occult history of Salem and Ol' Spithead. Do you know what he told me about Tyee?"
"Tyee gives me the creeps."
"Tyee gives you the creeps? I found out tonight that Tyee is possibly three hundred years old!"
"How much of that brandy did you have?"
"Not enough."
Harold undressed, brushed his teeth, and then climbed into bed. He had already showered once that evening, and the noise of the pipework had been enough to frighten him off showers forever. Rattling, and groaning, and letting out echoing shrieks.
Pauline lay back, and reached out for him, gently parting her thighs. Harold climbed astride her, kissing her forehead and her eyes and her neck, and then her shoulders, and her soft pink nipples. They made love silently, as if it were a midnight ritual; prolonging each moment until it was impossible to prolong it any further. He looked down, and saw his hardness enclosed by her tight and succulent lips, and fear and anxiety and gruesome manifestations seemed very far away, like an offkey orchestra playing in another part of the house.
"Maybe I should talk to Michael again," Harold said, when the lights were turned off, and they lay in the unfamiliar darkness. "Maybe he won't be so pigheaded after all."
"You could try. Do you want me to mention it to him?"
Harold was quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking about it. The truth was, he was trying to allay any possible fears that Michael might have that he would dive on the wreck before he registered it, and if Pauline were to go back to him and suggest that he and Harold should have a friendly discussion about the raising of the copper vessel, say in a day or so, then he would hardly be likely to suspect that Harold would try to sneak down there tomorrow.
Tyee woke Harold at 5:55, when Pauline was still asleep. She lay with her hair spread out on the pillow, one breast bare, and Harold discreetly covered her up before he tiptoed out. Harold's clothes were already laid out for him in the drawing-room, and Tyee whispered, "Breakfast right away, Mr. Winstanley."
When Harold went downstairs to the oak-paneled dining-room, the sunlight was already penetrating the French doors at the far end, and sparkling on the silverware and the Spode plates. There were muffins and coffee. Mr. Knight had ordered that Harold should not be served the full breakfast today because he was swimming.
Harold ate on his own for five or ten minutes, until Colin Knight came into the room in a bronze quilted dressing-down, smoking a small cigar. He sat down opposite him and watched as Harold buttered his muffin, and then he waved the blue cigar smoke away, and said, "I hope this doesn't bother you. It's a repulsive old habit of mine; 6:00 every morning. How do you feel?"
"Nervous."
"Well, good. If you're nervous, then you'll be alert. I'll tell you what we've managed to arrange during the night. Tyee has obtained two cases of dynamite, as well as all the needed fuses; and all that has been loaded on to the station wagon ready to go. Mr. Patterson will be ready for you by the time you reach Salem Harbor, and will sail you out to the George Badger. When you dive, you will take down with you and airlift, and you will use this to excavate a narrow crevice in the silt, right beside the George Badger's hull. Into this crevice you will pack both cases of dynamite, and you will then swim back to the surface, paying out fuse as you go. The fuse is largely made of magnesium, so it'll burn underwater. You will light it, and then retreat from the area as fast as you can, while the dynamite detonates. According to the preparatory work I have done during the night, the explosion should completely shatter the hull of the George Badger, and blow most of the silt out of the area where the ship has been buried. Now comes the tough part: you will have to search the sea-bed, almost blind, for a great deal of silt will be clouding the water, and you will have to locate the copper vessel within a matter of minutes. Fortunately, Mr. Patterson has metal-detecting equipment, and that should help you find it reasonably speedily. We will be keeping the coastguard away from the area by putting out a false emergency call from further up the coast, off Bertram Beach, and we will just have to hope that nobody else gets too curious before we are able to winch the copper vessel up to the surface."309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZsZBqJXCv8
"What are we going to do with Supay; once we get him ashore?" Harold wanted to know.
"That is all arranged, too. A refrigerated truck will be waiting by the harbor, and the copper vessel will immediately be put into cold storage, and driven here. Sarah will be readying all the needed rituals to keep Supay under our control; and she should be ready by the time we get back here."
"If this doesn't work," Harold asked old man Knight, "what's the worst that can happen? A $600 fine for setting off dynamite? A couple of months in jail?"
Colin Knight pursed his lips. "Those will be nothing, compared with the fury of Supay. The worst that can happen, Mr. Winstanley, is that every grave in Salem and Ol' Spithead will open, and that the dead will rise to massacre the living."
At that moment, Pauline came into the room, blinking at the sunlight. "I woke up and you were gone," she said. "Does everybody get up this early around here?"
"I have to go to Boston to pick up some research material," Harold liked. "I thought I might as well make an early start."
Pauline sat down, and Tyee came in to pour her some fresh coffee. He looked across the table at Harold as he did so, and by the expression on his face he seemed to be asking Harold whether he was ready to go. Harold wiped his mouth, put down his napkin, and stood up. Pauline looked at him in surprise.
"You're not even going to have breakfast with me?"
Harold leaned across and kissed her. "I'm sorry. I really have to go."
"Are you all right?" she asked, glancing at old man Knight as if she suspected him of executing some menacing influence over Harold.309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXOgnxy3W2t
"I'm fine," Harold reassured her. "All you have to do is finish your breakfast and leave when you feel like it. I'll call you later in the day. Maybe I'll even drop in and see you. And don't forget to tell Michael that I'd like to talk."309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPxSapxY9GP
"I won't," said Pauline distractedly, as Harold left the dining-room, and followed Tyee across the hallway and out to the garage. In the garage's gloom, Colin Knight's LTD wagon was waiting, black and polished, with two large packing-cases stowed in the back, both of them unmarked. Tyee opened the passenger door for him, and he climbed in, turning around to stare at the crates in trepidation.309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA6253Vf52l
"How much dynamite do we have there," Harold asked him.309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡffpweKnT0E
He pressed the remote button which opened the garage door. He looked across at me and almost smiled. "Enough to blow this car to Lynnfield, no driving necessary."
"How reassuring," Harold told him.
They were circling the shingle driveway when Sarah came down the front steps of the house and waved to us. Tyee drew the wagon to a halt and put down the window. Sarah looked pale and distraught, and her hair was flying loose.
"What's wrong?" Harold asked her. "Did we forget something?"
"It's Anne," she said. "Your doctor just called. Dr. Lockwood, isn't it?"
"That's right. Dr. Lockwood. What's the matter?"
"It's terrible. I sensed that something was wrong during the night. A feeling of sudden loss. A feeling that part of us had suddenly vanished. A very cold feeling."
"What's happened?" Harold demanded. "For God's sake, tell me what's happened."
"She was found hanging in her room this morning. They had kept her in for one more day of observation. Then, when they went in this morning, they found her hanging. Her own belt, from the light."
"Oh, my God!" Harold said, feeling the coffee curdle in his stomach. Tyee touched his forehead in a sign which Harold assumed to be the Indian symbol for "bless me," or "rest in peace."309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxW7b5Fx0Wu
"She left a message," said Sarah. "I can't remember what it said exactly, but it was addressed to you, Mr. Winstanley. It said something like, 'Don't feel you have to keep your promise, just for me.' Do you know what she meant by all that?"309Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPefQNiSfzD
Harold closed his eyes and then opened them again. The day looked very gray, like a harsh black-and-white photograph. "Yes, unfortunately, I do," he said, quietly.
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