There was a lot to think about, and talk fell away. Presently Geordie spoke up. 'All right, let's get on to Papeete and see what we can decide on the way,' he said with finality.* 4*

We sailed for Tahiti, first heading south to skirt the Tuamotus, and then on a direct course. Geordie didn't want to sail through the Tuamotus unless he had to; the name, he told us, meant 'The Dangerous Isles' and they were every bit as dangerous as the name implied, a vast area of coral atolls and sharp-toothed reefs, not all of them charted.

I judged we should arrive in Papeete just about the same time as the Eastern Sun, if she kept to her published schedule. I certainly hoped we would arrive first – I didn't relish leaving Paula there without protection.

Campbell perked up on this leg of the voyage, gradually returning to his old aggressive self, abetted by Clare. We had talked further about the possibilities ahead of us and I had tried to persuade him that I wasn't taking him on any wild-goose chases, but in fact I had nothing much to go on myself, and was feeling very bothered by this. Clare was back to poring over Mark's diary, trying to unravel a few more mysteries. I almost hoped she wouldn't – we'd had enough trouble over the Recife de Minerve. She had hidden the transcript and the photostatted drawings, but had first made copies of these into her own notebook, and studied them covertly from time to time.

It was pleasant enough sailing but not as invigorating as the first part of the trip out from Panama. In spite of the decision to make a new beginning we were all a little depressed, and had all been at sea for a long time. We felt the urge to tread firm ground again.

So it was with relief that everyone heard Geordie's announcement that Tahiti was within easy reach and would be sighted at any time. We were having lunch on deck and conversation was relaxed and easy. Clare sat a little way from the rest of us, still studying those damned drawings.

'Land – dead ahead!' Taffy Morgan hailed, and we all scrambled to our feet to get our first sight of Tahiti. There was only a small smudge on the horizon and we had a long while to go before we would see any more detail. We praised Geordie's navigation and then stood lounging at the rails watching the smudge gain sharpness when Kane came over to Clare.

'You left this on deck, Miss Campbell. It could blow over the side.'

And he held out her open notebook, with many of Mark's drawings in full view. We were all very still, looking at it.

Clare said coolly, 'Thank you, Mr Kane.'

'I didn't know you could draw, Miss.'

'I can't, not very well.'

Kane grinned and flicked at the open pages. 'Doesn't look like it,' he agreed. That's a pretty cow, mind you, but it's a pretty scraggy-looking falcon.'

Clare managed a smile as she took the book from him. 'Yes, I'll never be an artist,' she said.

Geordie said harshly, 'Kane, have you spliced that new halliard yet?'

'Just going to, skipper, no sweat.' He walked away briskly and I let my breath out. Clare said in a soft voice, 'God, I'm sorry.'

Campbell watched Kane out of sight and made sure we were out of anyone else's hearing. 'Clare, of all the damn silly things to do.'

'I said I was sorry.'

'I don't think it matters,' I said calmly. 'It's not the actual diary – none of Mark's handwriting shows. And for all we know Kane isn't aware that the diary ever existed.'

'Somebody might,' said Clare. 'That man Ramirez, he sent people to steal Mark's things – he may have known about it.'

'If Kane is a low man on the totem pole then he wouldn't know everything. I don't think it makes a bit of difference what Kane saw. Forget it.'

Clare looked at the drawings again, and suddenly a smile displaced her air of tension. 'Now that he's mentioned the cow, I think I may have one of Mark's awful puns figured out. Don't get excited though, Pop – it's only a wild guess.'

She pointed to the cow and its companion, the squashed semi-circle.

'I've been reading things, and I read somewhere that another name for the Tuomotus is the Low Islands. That's what this flatfish object is, a low island on the sea. Then he's put OR – and drawn the cow. It's two drawings for the same place – the Tuamotus.'

'For God's sake, why?' Campbell demanded.

'Cows go moo – they low.' And she burst out laughing. I had to join her and even her father started to smile as he saw the joke. If true, it was a good one. We put the incident with Kane out of our minds.

As Esmerelda drew nearer to Tahiti the sea gave place to mountains, hazy green, and then we began to see the surf breaking on the beaches as we sailed along the coast. We all turned our thoughts to cold beer ashore.

Papeete, the Pearl of the Pacific, is a pleasant town with all the usual offices – banks, a hospital, shops and so forth, but it is also a collection of tin huts set down on a tropical island and therefore a trifle squalid; but the setting is magnificent. Arriving there we tied up almost in the main street and there are not many ports in the world where you can do that. Looking over the harbour you can see the island of Moorea nine miles away, a volcano which exploded in the far past leaving a jumble of spires and peaks leaning at impossible angles, one of the most splendid sights in the world, and one which must go a long way to compensate for any inconveniences occasioned by living in Papeete.

I looked around the harbour for the Eastern Sun but there was no sign of her, so I tried to relax as we waited for customs clearance. Campbell was fretful, anxious to go ashore and see if there was anything for him at the post office. He was too much in the dark concerning the Suarez-Navarro expedition. I wasn't any too patient myself. I had questions to ask and I wanted to try and see the Governor. I believe in starting at the top.

At last a customs officer arrived, gave us a leisurely scrutiny and departed, leaving us free to go ashore. I had asked him when the Eastern Sun was due, and one of life's rare miracles occurred.

The cruise boat, m'sieur? She come any time, I 'ave 'eard on ze radio. She is due tomorrow.'

I spoke to Geordie before everyone vanished. 'Who are the two toughest chaps you have?'

'Ian Lewis for one,' he said promptly. Then it's a toss-up between Taffy and Jim Taylor.'

'Whoever it is must be good at unarmed combat.'

Then it's Ian and Jim. Taffy's the knife expert. Who do you want laid out?'

'Paula Nelson will be in tomorrow, on the Eastern Sun. And this place is unhealthy for her. When it comes in I want you to go and meet her, because she'll recognize you, and I want you to take the others along, collect her and bring her back here – unhurt. Anyone who tries anything is to be stepped on hard.'

He listened carefully and then nodded. I knew she'd be in good hands.

'Right. I'll leave you to your own filthy devices, Geordie. We'll want to get refitted so that we could leave almost any time, so warn the crew not to stray. Anyone who ends up in gaol stays there. I'm going to try for an interview with the Governor.'

There was a lot of mail for Campbell at the main post office. He was back even before I went ashore, clutching a sheaf of papers and disappearing below with Clare. I hoped he'd let her out some time, and it occurred to me to ask her to dine with me that night. It would be nice not to eat surrounded by the others, but nicer still with Clare along. I collected a file from my cabin and set out for Government House, and discovered it to be a rambling edifice in Late Tropical Victorian set in a large garden.

I had, as I expected to have, a royal tussle with batteries of underlings, secretaries and so forth, but I was persistent and was at long last shown to a room to await a summons for a brief meeting with the Governor. He was a tall, cadaverous man with a thin hairline moustache, sitting behind an imposing desk cluttered with papers. He did not rise but stretched his hand out to me across the table.