Harry & the Bikini Bandits Read online

  I had to cross the open road to get back to where I had left the raft. If I made a dash for it I would probably be spotted and the chase would be on. My only hope was to be as casual as possible. I straightened up and set one foot out on the road, half expecting that at any moment that crazy guard would loose off a shot at me. But he was too busy jumping up and down and yelling about Burger to pay any attention to me.

  Somewhere on the far shore a searchlight had gone on. It caught me full in the eyes and I felt like a bug on a pin. But then it moved off down the harbor, and in its vivid beam I saw the Whaler skimming across the surface with a great rooster tail behind and Hamilton Burger at the wheel grinning like a kid at a circus.

  By that time I was across the road and making my way through the brush to the place where I had left the raft. So far so good. Except that the raft was no longer there. I sniffed back and forth like a dog on a hot scent thinking I might somehow have gotten twisted around but there was no doubt about the place. The point and the little open beach. Then I thought I might have misjudged the tide and it had come up higher than I expected and taken the raft out to sea. But the tide had been falling; I had made sure of that before leaving the beach. And if anything, it was a good bit lower now than when I had left it. There was only one explanation. If the raft was gone someone had taken it.

  Then I saw him, vaguely outlined against the blackness and well below the level of the searchlight beam. He was rowing furiously putting his back into every stroke. Even in the blackness I could see that he had ripped off the mask and the Nehru jacket. With a half dozen tremendous strokes he shot up under Jezebel’s counter and made the raft fast and heaved himself and the canvas bag up on deck.

  “Harry!” I yelled, but if he heard me he paid no attention. He had leaped down through the companionway hatch, and I knew he must be starting the engine. That was when I took a running dive out into the shallows and began swimming for the ketch.

  Any other time that crummy old Palmer would have been stubborn as a mule, but now it had to go off with the first touch of the crank. I was still only half way there and already being swept far down by the current when I saw him up on the foredeck sheeting the anchor cable home and already moving. He had no lights and the boat itself was lost in the black shape of the warehouses along the waterfront, but I could still barely make out the dim black fingers of the masts moving against the sky. Then even those were gone. I let myself drift.

  He had gone behind the island but then he must have reversed course, because suddenly he was coming back in my direction. Had he decided to go through The Narrows between Paradise Island and Atholl Island, or was he coming back to pick me up? Since he was showing no lights it was hard to tell. With the tide behind him, he was moving along at a good clip, and when he was abeam of me I shouted again.

  “Harry! Harry! Ahoy Jezebel!”

  I could swear he heard me and I am almost sure I heard his voice.

  “Happy landings, kid.”

  And a ghostly wave of his hand.

  CHAPTER 22

  I NEVER SAW MISS WONG AGAIN. SHE JUST seemed to melt away after the shooting, and I can only guess that she caught the first plane out. At first I thought that maybe she and Harry had set it up this way all along and they were together somewhere with all that money, but the more I thought about it the less likely that seemed. Especially in the light of what Charity told me.

  She was in a room at Princess Margaret Hospital with about a ten-foot-tall black policeman outside the door. I hesitated for quite a while because I figured the minute I walked in they would arrest me, but then I decided to hell with it—I would have to take that chance. So, I just walked in trying to look like any other tourist. That wasn’t too hard to do because I was still wearing Burger’s clothes. They were the only clothes I had now that the Jezebel was gone. My swimming around in the harbor in them while I was chasing after Harry hadn’t done them much good, but I had found a little old lady in a shop off Dogflea Lane who had gone over them with an iron. That of course was the day following the robbery.

  What happened was I just floated there and watched Harry sail out. For a while I couldn’t believe he was really gone and had left us all in the lurch that way. I thought maybe he would hide the boat somewhere and then come back to look for us. It took me quite a while to realize that I would not bump into him strolling down Bay Street.

  When I was convinced that he was really gone and not just freaking around the harbor somewhere, I swam slowly toward shore. I was very tired by that time and the tide had carried me a long way down. A ferry boat went by and I almost called out for help, but I knew I would have an awfully hard time explaining what I was doing out there in the water in the middle of the night.

  The flashing red lights of the Fort Fincastle water tower loomed ahead and I moved slowly toward them. I was trying to save my strength and not attract too much attention, so I just did a sort of weary breast stroke. Now and then I turned over on my back to rest and each time the tide carried me further down. If I did not make the beach soon I would be swept right out to sea past the Hog Island Light.

  Then I was in among some barges and an anchored tug, and I hung on until my heart stopped pounding and a little strength came back to my arms. The searchlight was still flicking all over the sky, and I heard the thunder of a helicopter. The chopper came low over the harbor with flashing lights. It went back and forth like a hound dog trying to pick up a scent. Once it passed right over me and I ducked my head. When it had gone I made it the rest of the way into the beach.

  I crawled up and lay on the sand. I was a couple of hundred yards below the British Colonial Hotel, and I could hear music and see people dancing on the terrace just as though nothing had happened. Seeing them sipping their drinks and milling around calmed me, because for the first time I realized that not everybody in the world was out firing guns or screaming around in helicopters looking for me. There were some college kids further up the beach with a guitar and a mound of beer cans. A lot of others were sprawled around necking and at least half a dozen other guys were just flaked out sleeping. I decided it was as good a place as any and just lay down with my head on my arms. In about a minute and a half I was gone.

  But my sleep was restless. I kept waking up every few minutes thinking the cops were after me. And when I did sleep I had nightmares. Charity was in my dreams and Grogan. Why had he turned back? Where was he now? How much were they both telling?

  I dozed on and off until the sky began to get light and just before dawn I got up and headed into town. I felt awful and looked worse, but I figured I was safe enough because the town was full of scruffy-looking kids, and people would take me for just another college kid with a hangover.

  I went down a back alley lined with little wooden shacks and a big mutt came out at me as though he meant to tear my head off. I stood still while he raved around me and that was when a little old lady came to the door and called him off. I asked her where I could get a cup of coffee at that hour and she gave me a kind of pitying look and said, “You sleepin’ on the beach, son?” When I acknowledged that I had been, she told me to wait and then she brought me out a mug of strong black coffee and a handful of some kind of ship’s biscuits. She was a real nice woman, although a little too curious. I gave her a line about having come down from college on spring vacation and getting separated from my friends and being busted. She shook her head and said she didn’t know what kids were coming to these days. In the end she got out an old iron that she heated up on a wood-burning stove. While I sat wrapped up in a blanket, she pressed my clothes. I tried to give her a dollar but she refused to take it.

  When I had my clothes back on, I left the house and walked aimlessly around the town. I felt lost and lonely and more frightened than I had ever been in my life. What money I owned had been on board Jezebel and was now gone with her. I was a wanted criminal with a few dollars in my pocket and no way to get off an island where I might be picked up at any moment. And I had n
o way of knowing what Grogan and Charity might have already told the police.

  The morning paper came out and practically the whole thing was devoted to the robbery. I bought one and mingled with the crowds of tourists in Rawson Square and read every word. It went on about how the patrons of the casino had been gassed through the air-conditioning system, and the thieves had made off in a speed boat. One, however (I supposed they must mean Grogan) had already been captured, and helicopters and police vessels were searching the sea in all directions for the others. A girl had been shot and seriously wounded when one of the casino guards had opened fire on the gangsters. She had been taken to Princess Margaret Hospital where her condition was listed as critical.

  It was, they said, the biggest story to hit the Bahamas since the murder of Sir Harry Oakes, and further bulletins would be forthcoming.

  Later in the morning I sat next to a bunch of kids who had a transistor radio and got some more dope. The speedboat had turned out to be nothing more than an outboard-powered Boston Whaler which belonged to a wealthy American yachtsman who had been out joyriding at the time of the holdup. The thieves were probably still on the island, unless they had gotten away in a private plane. So far there was no report of any plane having taken off that night, but then of course they might have been using a seaplane or amphibian. It was also possible that they had escaped by boat and been picked up by a plane at sea. Clearly they had been part of a well-organized professional gang with (it was rumored) Cosa Nostra connections.

  So it went throughout the day. There were bulletins from the Commissioner of Police, the Premier, the head of Scotland Yard, the FBI in Miami, and some character at Cat Cay who claimed to have seen a flying saucer taking off from the lagoon in front of his house.

  I could see Charisma still tied up at the Yacht Haven, and I could even see Burger and Carole at their ease on her afterdeck. I was tempted to approach, but I was afraid that the police might be watching the yacht and so I kept away. On the other hand, if they had accepted Burger’s version of his wild ride out to sea at midnight why would they be keeping an eye on him? It was too chancy. I no longer trusted anyone.

  Then I thought of wiring my father for the plane fare home. But that was an admission of defeat that I was not yet ready to make. Instead I sent him a card saying that all was well and I was having a very good time.

  In the afternoon I walked by the hospital to see what was going on. I kept to the far side of the street and skulked past. The scene looked ordinary enough; a lot of people coming and going, but I assumed that was to be expected at a hospital. No cops. I wanted in the worst way to check on Charity’s condition, but I did not dare. So I went on past and bought a big bunch of bananas for twenty-five cents and sat under a tree eating them.

  That night I slept on the beach again with a bunch of kids and tried to pretend to be as carefree as the rest. But I couldn’t make it. By two in the morning (I was still wearing Burger’s watch) I was walking restlessly around the town again and had made up my mind that, no matter what, I would go to see Charity.

  I walked in through the main door of the hospital and no one tried to stop me. There was no one at the reception desk and I walked right on by trying to look as casual as possible. A sign said INTENSIVE CARE UNIT, and I figured that was where she would be. I opened the door and peeked in. There were half a dozen very old people there with tubes sticking out of them, but Charity was not among them. I closed the door and went on down the corridor and saw the room with the policeman. He wore shorts, and each one of his big black legs was about as thick around as my middle. Even sitting down he was the biggest man I had ever seen. He was wearing dark glasses and seemed to be looking straight at me, and it took me quite a while to realize he was asleep. He was sitting straight up in his chair as if he had been stuffed and mounted, but his head did not turn as I went on by. So I went back and tried it again and he still sat the same way.

  I opened the door a crack and peeked in. There she was, her blond hair spread out on the pillow. There was a bottle of some kind hung above her with a tube going down to her skinny little arm, but aside from that she did not look too sick. Her eyes were open and they turned toward me and she gave me her funny little smile. I had supposed there would be a nurse with her, but at that moment she was alone. I put a finger to my lips and she nodded. I closed the door very softly behind me and went over to the bed.

  “Hello, Charity,” I whispered.

  Her voice was husky and kind of weak. “Hello, Clay.”

  “How are you?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.”

  “Bloody fool.”

  “I know.”

  “Sweet. Why aren’t you on the boat?”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Harry got away?”

  “It seems that way.”

  “And didn’t wait for you?”

  “He didn’t wait for anything as far as I know.”

  She nodded. “My fault.”

  “What happened?”

  “They came after you had gone.”

  “Who came?”

  “Those two from the casino.”

  “The ones we had the fight with?”

  “Mmm.”

  “What did they want?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  I shook my head.

  “Me.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Oh Clay, baby. Don’t you understand?”

  “No.”

  “They wanted me to go away with them again. When I refused they beat me and did everything else to me they could think of. Both of them.”

  “Oh.” It was all I could say. But I could feel my face getting red and my hands beginning to shake.

  “They said they had seen you going to the casino and they knew you were up to something. They said they would fix you and Harry. When they were gone all I could think of was to get to you. I wanted to warn you but I ruined everything.”

  “No. You didn’t ruin anything. It was all crazy from the start.”

  “And then on top of everything I had to get shot. That was the stupidest part of all.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore. I’m kind of all doped up.”

  “You’ll be all right.”

  “Absolutely, luv. I’m a survivor. But it was a bad day for you when you picked me up.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “If you hadn’t been kind to me and if it hadn’t been for those two bloody bastards, you would have pulled it off.”

  “I don’t think so. Something else would have gone wrong.”

  “And poor little Grogan. If he hadn’t come back for me he might have gotten away.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say. “He was in love with you,” I said at last.

  “I know. Poor little sod.”

  “I wonder what they’ll do to him.”

  “Well they won’t make him Queen of the May. Why did he have to be such a fool as to turn back?”

  “Why did you have to be such a fool as to come looking for us?”

  “Because I am a fool. Perhaps that’s what Grogan saw in me. We’re both losers.”

  “You’re no loser, Charity.”

  “Oh yes I am. I’m the real loser. I’m going to die.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re getting along fine.”

  “I know more about how I’m getting along than you, luv. Or these bleeding surgeons either, for that matter.”

  “Don’t talk that way, Charity.”

  “Well, it’s the truth. And I deserve it too for being such a ruddy arse. I don’t really mind too much though, Clay.” Then tears sprang into her eyes and she squeezed my hand. “Yes I do too. I mind most awfully. And I’m so frightened.”

  I wondered if I had better call the nurse. She was getting kind of worked up.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said.

  “You didn’t.” But she had.
r />   “I want you to know I haven’t told them anything and I won’t. I told them I didn’t even know poor Grogan, that he must have come back for me just because he saw me get hurt.” She closed her eyes. “I’m very tired, luv.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “Kiss me, Clay.”

  I bent down and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were dry and hot.

  “Take care of yourself, baby,” she said.

  “You too.”

  “Oh I’ll be fine.”

  As I straightened up she said, “If you see Grogan tell him I am superfond of him. Better go now before the nurse comes ’round.”

  I went to the door and opened it a crack. The policeman’s chair was empty and there was no one in the hall. I quickly closed the door behind me and had not taken more than two steps when I saw him coming out of the men’s room at the end of the corridor. I stopped where I was, but he never saw me. He bent over the drinking fountain, and I shot through the exit door and down the stairway.

  On the main floor the reception nurse was back at her station and she gave me a hard look and said, “What are you doing here, young man?”

  I clutched my stomach and tried to look like a man gripped by a sudden attack of appendicitis. “Emergency ward,” I croaked.

  “At the rear of the building.”

  I dashed on past. She called something after me, but I ignored it. I went down the steps three at a time and did not stop until I had reached Bay Street. There I sat on the sea wall behind a giant mound of conch shells. I was sweating freely and my heart was thumping. Going to the hospital had been a crazy thing to do, but I was glad that I had done it. She had been scared and lonely and had needed someone. I was sure she would be all right, and I hoped that when she got out she would go home to her people.