The Betrayers - 10 by Hamilton Donald

Author:Hamilton, Donald [Hamilton, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

LATER, WE HAD ANOTHER drink out on the hotel terrace-well, on one of the several terraces jutting from the seaward hillside like random bookshelves from a wall. It was getting dark and the bathers had deserted the beach below. An attendant in swim trunks was putting half a dozen small boats to bed. That is, he was taking down the colorfully striped, triangular little sails and hauling the tiny vessels out on the sand. They looked like the same kind of sailing planks, twelve or fourteen feet long, that I’d seen used by kids in the surf off Waikiki. Where we were, on the western shore of the island, the trade winds couldn’t hit us directly, but far out beyond the lee of the land the ocean looked rough and choppy in the growing dusk. There was a low island out there in line with the sunset: that would be Lanai. To the north was the brooding, cloud-wrapped mass of Molokai. Between here and there, according to the chart I’d studied, was something called the Pablo Channel, ten miles wide and some hundred and thirty fathoms deep. I’d once, long ago, been exposed to a bit of rudimentary seamanship in the line of duty. A course in basic boat-handling had been required at the time, since we were operating along the coasts of Europe, and reliable nautical help wasn’t always to be had. I still remembered that one fathom was equal to six feet. Not that it mattered. You can drown in six inches of water if you put your mind to it. “Is it permitted to disturb the Master at his meditations?” Isobel asked respectfully. I looked up. “Only for matters of the utmost importance.” “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

I grinned. “Now there’s a way to make a man feel he’s given real satisfaction. The dame regrets, yet.” “I didn’t mean that.” Isobel didn’t smile. “I was merely apologizing for being a perverse bitch. I know you were being nice and trying to protect me as much as possible, and I do appreciate it.” “Sure,” I said. “Well, let’s figure how much damage has been done. We’ll have to assume that they overheard what we said, but even if they didn’t, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a wench who’s in bed with the guy before the bellboy’s even made it back to the desk obviously isn’t a wench who’s reluctantly keeping her part of a distasteful bargain. So that story’s out. What’s the matter?” “Nothing,” she said. “I didn’t say anything.” There was a certain coolness in her voice. I laughed at her. “I know, you’d rather I put it in a more dignified way, Duchess. Well, I’m sorry, but I’m trying to look at it through the eyes of the opposition. You’ll never make them believe you’re an unwilling patsy now, not after our little high-temperature interlude. Whether or not they heard you say it, they’ll assume that you know what I am, as you do.

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