 Log entry, the Ketch Scarlet Queen. Position 158 degrees west, 22 degrees 21 minutes north. Gyro compass course 290. Wind fresh, sky fair. Remarks, cleared port of Honolulu at 3.30 a.m. without lights to avoid harbor and police officials. Reason for secrecy, the report from the White Jade Buddha. On the 13th day out of San Francisco with the constant trade still flowing in over the starboard quarter, the Scarlet Queen stood in through Kaewi Channel, past Coco and Diamond Head, and eased into Honolulu Harbor. I planned on finding Dockajaw Fourth Street near the shopping district where I could take on water and food stores in a hurry, pick up my payroll and instructions from Kang's Honolulu contact, and head out. But the section was jammed with merchant men, so we nosed past Sand Island under power and into Kapalama Basin, where we tied up under the stern of an aging but busy victory ship. We'd noticed the big diesel yacht that had entered the basin in our wake, but we didn't pay any attention to it until it anchored just off our port beam and a dinghy left her, pulled up alongside. My chief mate, Rhett Gallagher, caught the hail. Boy, the Scarlet Queen. Boy, the boat. What's your business? Cross one preparer, master of the Ruckahunga. Do I have your permission aboard? Not mine. How about yours, keeper? Here's where we are. Ah, what's that? Oh, a stolen quarantine? I didn't say so, but it'll do. Well then, if Mohammed cannot come to the mountain, sir, let the mountain come to Mohammed. Talk English or cast off. What do you want? The pleasure of your company is tea aboard the Ruckahunga. Your self and your first officer, sir. No need for a formal acceptance. I never take no for an answer. I shall expect you promptly applied. What kind of bilge was that? I say let's take him up on that invitation, skipper. I say that tea smells like poison. Well, you expect a trouble in Honolulu, so it's better to have poison, hail you from a dinghy, than run into a knife in the dark shoreside alley. What do you say? A poison on a yacht where you can see it, or a knife in the dark alley? OK, Red, break out your white linen jacket. We'll try the poison. And so mutual continues the voyage of the Scarlet Queen, written by Gildowd and Bob Tollman, and starring Elliot Lewis. The Scarlet Queen, proudest ship to plow the seas, bound for uncharted adventure, every week a complete entry in the log, and every week a league further in the strange voyage of the Scarlet Queen. My instinct was to turn down Bradbury's invitation, because I knew that Konstantino's machine was out to stop the voyage of the Scarlet Queen. He was every trick in the business to keep me from the $10 million prize Kang was sending me after. They'd killed once in San Francisco when Gallagher was on their payroll. And now after Red had switched his loyalties to my side, the Bradbury hail would be another move. But a few minutes before 5, Gallagher and I dropped into our small boat and sculled the 50 yards to the good ship, Rokahunga. A Kanaka crewman took our painter and made as fast as a ladder. We hunched our shoulder holsters in the easy positions when aboard. We walked across immaculate teakwood toward the main house. Just before we reached it, something under a deck clique caught my eye. I picked it up. It was a small opal earring in a gold setting. Welcome aboard, gentlemen. Come in out of the sun. Tea's getting cold. We'll make formalities brief. I'd like to introduce my nephew. Your name, please. I'm Carney. This is my first officer, Mr. Gallagher. Splendid, splendid. Pleased to meet you. Why don't you park your hardware outside? This is a tea party. Now, now, settle. Certainly the gentlemen have come armed, old manner of danger in these latitudes, sharks, foreigners, natives. All right, clam, blubber clam. Tell them what you want and send them back to the rowboat. You're boring, the gentlemen. Yes, yes, of course. It just so happens that I do have a proposition to place before you. In spite of the apparent grandeur with which you find me surrounded, gentlemen, I find myself temporarily embarrassed financially. He means he's broke. That's tough. I've been there myself. Yes. Well, naturally, you were thinking that I can sell this yacht for more than enough to carry me, but I can't in Honolulu for reasons which I won't go into. As a matter of fact, I am taking great risks and even anchoring here, but I had no choice. What are you handing me? You picked us up off Sand Island and followed us into the basin. Why us? Why, the very impression you make your ship's well loaded. A craft that will handle well under Jeb and Mison for intricate island sailing. Yeah, along with 50 other catchers in this harbor. Yes. Now, Mr. Carney, the point is this. I am, shall we say, persona non grata in this city. He means he's hot in Honolulu. Last time he was here, he got a skin full and asked his dame on the ship. So? That will be an absolute. To continue, I must raise enough money to fuel my voyage back to the States. Neither I, nor if I may say so, Cyril can go sure. Yeah, but it was no dame. In my travels, I have collected a number of valuable object art. Among them, this rare white jade representation of the Arakanese Buddha. One of the most sacred objects of the Orient. Stolen from the Boingan Temple. Look, look, what Blumber's trying to tell you, he's hot, the statue's hot. But there's a certain character in Honolulu who pay off good for it. He wants your chance to deliver it for a third of the proceeds. He trusts you. Well, ask me why. Nicely put, Cyril. Well, gentlemen, how about it? Do you agree to assist me? Who's your buyer? A gentleman of the Oriental persuasion, Luci Shen by name. You will present the object to him, and if he does not instantly recognize its worth, as I believe he will, then kindly direct his attention to the cylindrical marking at his base. This identifies it beyond the shadow of the doll, as the Arakanese Buddha of Boanga. Well, Mr. Karnay? Oh, the tea is all right, Skipper. The guy's in trouble. We've got to go ashore anyway. OK, Rad, pick up the doll. Oh, I almost forgot. I found this out on deck. It's an earring. Oh, no, Paul. I don't know where could that have come from. Yeah, well, a cheap little thing. Take it along, Mr. Karnay, for luck. It was dusk when we left the Scarlet Queen to go ashore. By the time we'd reached King Street in the center of town, the tropic night had settled in around the city. Kang and company's office was closed, so I phoned the home of the manager, Neil Gregson. He told us to meet him there in an hour. We decided to unload Bradbury's hunk of jade and kill the rest of the time the nearest bar. We found the shop on Canton Street a few blocks east of King. The sign on the window is in Chinese, but down in the corner in English was the name Lu Zhixian. It was a typical cluttered Chinese curio shop, dim, smelling of sandalwood. A thin, wrinkled little man looking out of character in occidental clothes and green eye shade was waiting for us behind the counter. Yes, you wish to buy a Chinese wear? You, Lu Zhixian? Yes. Who told you come here? Bradbury. Bradbury? Maybe mistake, you come here. We got something for you. What do you think of that, for white jade? You try to sell it to me? That's not jade. What do you mean it isn't jade? That's Japanese work, very cheap. No good for me. Wait a minute, this is a great thing. Where do you say it came from, Skipper? A temple somewhere, Boanga. Boanga? No, cannot be Boanga Buddha. He says look on the bottom, Lu. He says mark there proves. Oh, wait. I turn on light. This very strange mark. Very small. He turned the base of the Buddha toward the light and squinted nearsightedly at a spot of shining metal that was set in the center. He put a jeweler's glass into his left eye and looked again. Then he picked up a pen knife and started scraping the tarnish off the metal disc. He didn't finish the job. Didn't make any more noise than a firecracker. There was a little tinkle of broken glass. His body went rigid for a split second and then relaxed. The eyepiece hadn't even shattered. There was a clean hole through it about the size of a 25-caliber slug. The bullet that had killed Lujie Shen had entered his left eye from close range. And the shattered pieces of Bradbury's phony Buddha I found the weapon. It was a simple gadget, a rifle cartridge with a spring mechanism and a firing cap. I'd seen plenty of them on Pacific beachheads during the war. We called them finger mines. It looked like Constantino's work, but I couldn't figure why. Any way you looked at it, it was murder, and we were in too deep to stand still. 20 minutes later, a cab dropped us in front of Neil Gregson's Spanish-style mansion out on the other side of Diamond Head. The air was heavy with the smell of jasmine as we went up the walk to the front entrance. But the perfume that hit us when the door opened was more expensive. Well, Neil told me a couple of men were coming, but he didn't say it like he should have. Thanks. Where do we find him? He had to go out for a while, but he said I could entertain you until he got back. It won't be long. I'm sorry to hear that. Come in, won't you? Follow me. She was easy to follow. She swayed down a few steps and into a sunken living room. From the door, I could see that we weren't the only men she was entertaining. I counted five lounging around the room, four of them, including a young Oriental with a scarred face wore a well-filled shoulder holster. The other sat with a carbine across his knees. He was the only one I recognized. It was Bradbury's nephew, Cyril. Come in, suckers. This could be a friendly get-together. Sure, what else? Maybe a little seven-card stud just to break the ice. I'll take you up on that, Cyril. We always get a square deal from you. I like you, too, Gallagher. How much money you got? That's the only one. How would you like to spend your time, Mr. Carney? Kicking myself from here to the equator, thanks. Come on over to the bar. My name's Claire, and I'll make you a drink. We'll put the kick in that. That's probably the truth. You're so suspicious. Relax. Do something manly like making a pass at me. With all your husbands in the room? Well, that's better anyway, but I'm not married. Just well supplied with chaperones, huh? Do you think I need them? Oh, get off it, will you? You don't need them with me. What is the setup anyway? Bunch of fellas just happened to drop in. Did you come with them, or are you part of the furniture? I'm engaged to Neil Gregson. You won't like him either. Uh-huh. That makes as much sense as anything else. Isn't that a fact? Did you drink all right? Yeah. Can't remember when I've enjoyed one more. I could say the same about you if I were the sarcastic type, but I'm... That must be Neil. Excuse me. The doorbell did something to the atmosphere in the room. I wasn't quite sure what. Nobody changed their positions. Ciro glanced up and then glanced back at his whole card. Claire walked through the room and up the steps. She looked through the open grill, turned back to the room, and held up one finger. Then she opened the door. The figure of a man stood silhouetted in the doorway for just an instant, and then... BANG! BANG! BANG! Every gun in the room opened up on him. The shock knocked him half off the porch and he lay there. Some people never learn, do they? You really take chances, don't you? You've got real guts, so... Well, it's Kipper, it's their pocket. He never got his hands out of his pockets. I'll ask your advice next time, Connie, but for now, come up and stay alive, huh? You Gallagher on your feet. You're going with us. Good idea. We can finish that game of stuff. Wait a minute. What's the deal? It's a payoff, Connie, for Gallagher's double cross and Frisco. You know what I mean? Okay, let's clear out. I felt like a man on a yard square island. From where I stood, there was no place to turn. Cyril's talk about Red's double cross added up to Constantino. I was sure of that. And it wasn't hard to figure how they'd pay off Gallagher for signing on with me. So far, Honolulu wasn't living up to the travel folders. It was all blind alleys. And in each one, there was a dead man. I went to the door, dragged the body inside and locked myself in with him. I pulled out his wallet. It was Gregson all right, but any information he was to give me was as dead as he was. That still held even after I found an envelope in his inside coat pocket that had my name on it. Two hours ago, it would have led to Kang's instructions. Now it didn't lead any place. It said, Lujie Shen is Kang's man. You're to meet him at 11.45 tonight. I walked a few blocks over to Coa Avenue and hailed a cab that dropped me on Canton Street. It was about 10, and I hoped that the police were through with Lou's Curio Shum. The dim light was on and no one was in sight. I went in. It was not only open, it was open for business. There wasn't a sign that a murder had been committed there. And another age of Chinese face rose up out of the shadows behind the counter. You wish by Chinese where? Who are you? I am Zhou Cheng. You do business now, tonight? You wish by? I help you. No, I mean Lujie Shen. Lujie Shen, not here. I know it. That's what I mean. You do business after what happened tonight? Lujie Shen, not here. Well the police here? Many police. Many men all want Lujie Shen. He's not here. He goes two, three days. I got an idea you're talking my language, Zhou. Did you see him get killed? Lujie Shen, not here. Look Zhou. You know Kang and Son, Shanghai? No, I don't know. You know named Scarlet Queen? No, I don't know. Other man, I don't know. What other man? Fat man in white suit, maybe come with police? Look, Zhou, I'm captain on Scarlet Queen. I work for Kang and Son. No, I don't know. Fat man, I don't know. He was lying. Look, look here. Look, look, look at this paper. It's a Philip Carney Master Catch Scarlet Queen. You read English? No, I read. And look here, this letter from Kang and Son, in Chinese. I was supposed to give it to Lujie Shen, but I didn't know it until it was too late. You come along with me. He patted down the other side of the counter and I followed him. We went through a door at the back of the shop and into the living quarters. Zhou bent over a carved camper wood chest. A bamboo tube and a thick envelope in his hand. Both of them were from Kang. The envelope held a beautiful thick bundle of $500 bills and a piece of rice paper in the tube carried my instructions for finding the contact in Kobe, Japan, and a list of numbers that could have been soundings or elevations. They would have been memorized if the paper destroyed. You're savvy. I'm savvy. Kang, he's the most wise man. You aren't so bad yourself, Zhou. You work good trick on Bradbury. Yes, good trick, all right. The police don't know Lou was killed? No person know. I clean up very fast. No person see him, only you, along with the one with red hair, and me. To all other person, Lujie Shen, go away. Believe me, I hope he has a good trip. Zhou, you help me more? Bradbury took the one with red hair away unless I find maybe he goes same place Lujie Shen. You know where in Honolulu those men go? Honolulu, very big. Look, one of them was Chinese boy. Knife scar across here. No all Chinese boys? I know the one. You know what place he go, any house saloon? What place he meet friend? No friend. American, very bad for that Chinese boy. I know it. I'll try and take care of it for you. Maybe beat American's heads together, huh? That place named Tom House. Street name, Canal Street. Very bad. Very good. Zhou, you're a beautiful guy. You're the first thing I've seen in Honolulu that I'd like to take home with me. The Palm House on Canal Street was the kind of a place the police find at the end of a vice drive. It was a two-story building that covered its windows with bamboo screens to hide its activities from those lucky enough to be outside and a lousy view from those stupid enough to be inside. The only healthy thing about the place was the two fat palm trees that gave it its name. It took a final breath of fresh night air and went in. It was a big place and crowded. The atmosphere was thick with smoke and the band was loud. The hula dancers that were on stage were doing the same thing 40 years too long and it improved their act with a few tricks from Minsky's. I got three feet inside the door and got a typical welcome. Hello, big boy. You're meeting a friend? I did. Later, gorgeous, later. Later, my back. I'm not the kind that goes the ways. I kicked and shouldered my ways through every complexion in the color chart navigating a course toward the bar by dead reckoning and the sense of smell. There was some space opening at the end of the bar. I stopped ordering a drink with the bartender without a sight. I turned around and that's when I saw them. The first one I spotted was Gallagher. He was at a table relaxed and nursing a glass. Sitting across from him was the woman, Claire. Cyril and the rest were spread out and they were getting to their feet. Then I realized why that crowd was so hard to fight through. I was the only one heading in. The rest of them smelled trouble and were fighting their way out. I put my back to the bar and leaned on my elbows. Gallagher looked at me once. Then he grinned and moved his chair so his back was to me. That made it complete. The trap and a sell-out from him. Funny thing about double crosses, Connie. Not so funny. You're the only one that isn't laughing. You want to talk sense or fall down? The gun's in your hand, not mine. Ah, well, let's try sense. We went back to Lujie Shen's. You stayed there for a while. You talked to Lujie Shen. Lujie Shen, not here. Shut up. All we want is what he gave you or told you. That makes it simple. Lujie Shen, not here. I said shut up! Four years ago, he was in that booby track. He said to him birthday greetings. He's dead. Quit it, Connie. The cops say he's alive. Argue with them, then, not me. If you like this, go ahead. Be stupid. That ain't hurting me. Well, that's cause you got gut-serial grade. Just as I hit him, somebody threw two shots and like it a signal, the place went pitch-dark. I dropped flat on the floor and stayed there. Automatic splashed out of the blackness and splinters from the bar rained down on me. Then the place went silent. I lay there quietly waiting. Afraid to give them my position by firing back. I heard the scrape of someone sliding my way and snapped a safety catch on my automatic. Then I smelled a perfume. Claire put both hands on my face to show me she didn't have a gun and breathed something about getting out into my ear. I grabbed one of her hands with my left, reached up to the bar and found a glass. I took a breath and threw it to the other end of the room. Then we got up and ran. I didn't try to figure the twist. All I saw was a chance to get out of there and I took it. She led me through a back door into a car parked in an alley. And the last I saw of the palm house was its reflection in the rear view mirror. She drove to Mauna Loa Bay on the eastern end of the island and led me into a cottage on the beach. The lights were shaded, the drinks were handy and the motif was pagan. I'd expected her to toss me some curves but I was a little wrong as to type. The events so far hadn't pointed to the kind that go with whispering surf and moonlight through palm groves. There they were. You've got the shakes, haven't you? The shakes are different on this end of the island. Your eyes aren't as soft as you talk. How would they look if they were? Wish I knew what you were up to. Couldn't I just like you? Nothing. Couldn't I try? Couldn't I be sick of the whole mess and everyone in it? Couldn't I be honest with myself for just a little while? I don't know. Could you? Maybe I was wrong about you being alive. Are you numb? Uh-uh. Just scared. I'm scared to death. I am too, Phil. Maybe... maybe it's... Oh, darling. Your face, he hurt you, didn't he? He hurt you. I don't remember. I don't remember a thing... of being here. I never did figure out whether she was really being honest or not. But I didn't know her well enough to care. A great deal. The drink she mixed that pineapple juice in them and the atmosphere she created was quite peaceful. She made only one mistake. She looked at her wristwatch too often. If she hadn't, it might have been different because I didn't hear her car pull up or footsteps outside or anything. I just saw a change in her. And I put my glass down and got ready. I wasn't quite sure who'd come through the door. It turned out to be Bradbury, but he was more surprised than I was. Claire was pointing a small automatic at him. Claire, what's the meaning of this? I've changed my mind. You're in too deep to misuse my faith in you. You put your pretty finger on your fiancee, Gregson, for an equally pretty remuneration. Quit being fancy and stay where you are. I found somebody who pays more for faith than you do. I don't have the sense, you Claire. You wouldn't. Unless our friend Gallagher is seen to it that Cyril is no longer with us, we might bargain. That must be a meeting point. Certainly you aren't wasting your time on Carney here. Turn around, fat boy. Who drove you out here? Gallagher. Yeah, fat boy. Gallagher. Isn't it a caution skipper what we have to go through to keep our heads above water? That's when the pagan cottage exploded because that's when everybody realized who was sold out by whom. Red-colored Bradbury and I made a grab at Claire. I was close, but not close enough. She'd aimed at Gallagher, but Bradbury had been pulled in line instead. Two spots of crimson suddenly blossomed on that white linen suit. And when Red let go of him, he settled fatally on the carpet. And Claire disappeared through a side door. Where's the dame skipper? I want to get my hands on her. Let her go, Red. I can't help it, skipper. She made me mad. You know why? Sure. I don't think you're dull. You remember that opal earring you found in the rocker hunger? I wasn't mad till I found the other one on her dressing table. What were you doing at her dressing table? Making a deal, skipper. Deciding that she double-crossed Cyril and Bradbury, I'd double-cross you. And she and I were going to live happily ever after. On what Konstantino would pay us for what you got from Lou G. Shen. Yeah. Should I congratulate you? Skipper, if you knew what I went through, making Cyril think I was double-crossing you, you would congratulate me. Yeah. How about Cyril? Yeah. How about Cyril? Skipper, what do you think of Hunter Lulu as a portico? It's kind of mixed up with what I think of you as a chief mate. But I think if we try, we can get out of here before daybreak. Consider him what's happened since we got here. I think we better. Homicide won't like us in the morning. An hour later, a sleepy crew had fallen too. And the Scarlet Queen sneaked away from her dock under power, out of Kapalama Basin, and headed out toward the still-dark western horizon. At dawn, we picked up the trade winds and cut the motor. Wind, port, ship! The mainsail caught the sunrise wind, and the Scarlet Queen nodded at the morning and dipped her lee rail toward the sea. Who'd the gypsy? She answered the gyps and then the mizzen. And the wake boiled and bubbled under a stern. The clean sea air flushed the night out of me. Left a clear head to work out a balance between wind, sail, rudder, and fate. She likes her sail, Skipper. She'll take it as long as we can stand up on the deck. Let's not argue with her. She likes it as it is. So do I. I can turn my back any way I want her. No automatic. Well, that was a bad port, Skipper. What's next? I'll try and do better. This one is called Muninjima. It's an island halfway between here and Japan. All right. You'll find the island, and I'll find the woman on it. That's a deal. Wanna drink, Skipper? After you, mate. After you. Log entry. Catch Scarlet Queen. 5.30 p.m. Miles traveled 3,035. Wind brisk. Sky lowering. Sea choppy with high crosswell. Mainsail and mizzen reefed. Ship secure for night. Sign Philip Carney. Master. The voyage of the Scarlet Queen has come to you through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.