Chap. 2: Survivors and the Shipwreckers Found!

 “Jenny, Ida Lewis acknowledges our message,” Ben said as he turned around in his seat.  “They’re notifying the Naval Syndicate of what’s happened and asking for help.  Also, we’re to watch out for the wrecker’s return.  And they want the name off of the cruiser to pass onto the Syndicate”

 There came a minute’s silence before the young rabbit fem would answer.

 “Okay, Ben,” she muttered in a faraway voice.  Slowly she stood up on the seat and leaned against the windscreen.  “Karl, could you climb back up there and get the boat’s name and home port off the transom?”  Then as an afterthought Jenny added, “Bitte?”

 Vacant yellow eyes turned to her, regarding the young pilot.  Then Karl Mueller nodded wordlessly before crawling out of the bow tub of the amphibian and back over the gunwale.  Jenny Monroe could hear his slow crunching walk across the glass-strewn deck to the stern and back.

 “She’s the Bountiful, Yenny, from Bosun’s Bay.” 

 Rabbit ears lifted up off her head.  “Bosun’s Bay?  We just left there early this morning.  What the hell are they doing way over here?”

 Karl could only shrug.  The port in question was a half-hour flying time to the northwest and over open water.  It would take two, maybe three hours for this vessel to cross that distance at cruising speed.

 “Could be they came down to have zum fun, ya?  A private party, far from prying eyes?”

 A wry smile brightened the girl’s cream colored face.  She knew about those kinds of parties.  A most private beach party where the couples spent some time together on the sand, enjoying each other’s company, and something to drink, before pairing off for a more secluded bout of intimate fun.  The smile faded, to be replaced by sadness again.  Jenny gave a deep sigh.

 “And they had to show up after the wreckers blew up the light tower, running aground in the darkness.”

 “But, Jenny,” started Ben as he rejoined her in the open canopy, “we can’t really be certain that it was the shipwreckers who destroyed #34.  It could have been a faulty fuel valve that allowed enough acetylene to collect in the lantern before the sun valve touched it off.”

 “Nein, mein freund, nein,” Karl countered with a shake of the head.  “If such had happened, as you suppose, we would most likely have seen the detonation while in flight.  And this boat would have been damaged, if not destroyed, by that explosion.” The feline sighed deeply.  “No, this boat probably ran aground not long after the light tower was destroyed.  And curiosity would have drawn these unfortunate souls to investigate, and were thereby trapped by these same shipwreckers and gunned down in cold blood.”

 Jenny’s chin was resting on her crossed arms when she spoke.

 “You know, we should be looking for survivors, if there are any.”

 The Cairn crewman looked at her.  “You’re right, we should.  There might be someone who’s hurt and probably made it to the trees.”

 That seemed to arouse Jenny Monroe from her stupor.

 “Cast off, Karl, and we’ll try to work our way around this wreck.”

 The German did so, heaving against the hull of the cabin cruiser with the boat hook, putting as much distance between them as possible while rabbit pilot cranked over the engine.  The four bladed propeller turned until the engine caught.  Keeping the throttle set to idle Jenny kicked the rudder hard left and maneuvered the amphibian further away from the ‘unlucky boat’ before heading toward the open beach.

 Sand grated against the wooden hull as the Seagull nosed up onto the beach.  Killing the engine again the rabbit fem then slid over the side and landed on the sand, pistol ready.  Karl and Ben soon followed, their weapons held up and covering the ground before them.

 “Should one of us go take a look?” whispered Jenny, a slight quaver in her voice.

 Ben shook his head.  “I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

 Figures could be seen coming out of the shadows of the undergrowth.  A handful of natives stepped out into the open, some holding fishing spears, a couple with rifles.  They warily watched the three in khaki flying wear.  But what caught the trio’s attention were the four that followed.  A tiger couple in white blouses and pantaloons stepped forward, the male sporting a blue turban while its mate’s head was draped with a blue scarf.  Both wore a blue sash wrapped around their waists that contained a sheathed dagger.  They were followed by a rather disheveled rat fem wrapped in a blanket and guided by . . . The three flyers stared in disbelief as they watched the bundled rodent woman come towards them with a human woman!

 She wasn’t as tall as the tigers, maybe five and a half feet in height, and she wore the white dress and apron of a nurse.  Her face was a bit round but not unpleasant to look at, for a human, with a cap of loose blond curls crowning her head and brushing her shoulders.

 The male tiger stepped forward, pressed palm to palm and bowed.

 “Greetings, I am Raman Singh, the doctor assigned to this native village.  And this is my mate, Chondra Kaur.”

 The tiger fem bowed in greeting.  “You are the keepers of the light, yes?”

 “Well, yes,” answered Jenny, still eyeing the armed natives.  “Can you tell us what had happened to the light tower that used to stand over there?”  She made a wave in the direction of the grounded boat.

 Both felines’ features became of mix of sorrow and anger.

 “It had happened just after moon set, and the natives of the village were using the light of your tower to continue their fishing when the black boat appeared out of the darkness.”

 “Black boat?” queried Ben.

 “Yes, the fishermen say that it had been made black, probably by painting.  This boat pulled up to the others and began to fire guns into the air.  The fishermen panicked and quickly rowed away to hide.”

 “Moon set?” asked Jenny, frowning.  “About what time was that?”

 “Just after two o’clock in the morning,” answered the woman.  She stepped forward, still guiding the rat fem with her.  “I’m Beverly Plumb, a nurse working with Doctor Singh here on the island.”  Her blue eyes went from one flyer to another.  “You act like you’ve never seen a human before.”

 “Well, . . .” began the rabbit fem when Karl cut in.

 “Forgive us our staring, fraulein, aber it is not that ve have not seen vun of your kind before, it is because our Kapitan is human himself, ya.”

 Beverly’s eyes widened.  “Your captain is a human?”

 “Yes, he is,” continued Ben.  “He may be a little older than yourself, ma’am, but still one of your kind.  Seeing as there are no other human women in this region you’re the first one we’ve seen in these parts.”

 A slight smile touched the woman’s lips.  “I would very much like to meet him, if that is all possible.”

 Having recovered herself Jenny said, “I think that can be arranged.  Seeing as how the light tower’s been destroyed and we’re going to have to put up another one.  And the Ida Lewis – that’s our ship – will have to do the installation, as these islands hereabout are within our district.”

 “And you are?” prompted Beverly.

 “Wha . . ?” Jenny looked puzzled for a moment, then sheepishly grinned, “Oh, I’m very sorry.  Forgive my manners, Miss Plumb, I’m Pilot Officer Jenny Monroe.  This is Ben Frasier, my flight engineer and wireless operator, and Karl Mueller, observer and lighting equipment inspector.  We’re with the Spontoon Island Navigational Aid Service.”

 Ben smiled and nodded while Karl gave a stiff bow and thumped his heels together.

 The sun was now up above the trees and bathing the sand with warmth.  The fliers finally holstered their pistols while Ben and Jenny pulled off their leather helmets.  A rough shock of tawny hair covered the Cairn’s head.  Jenny took her time in extracting her long ears free.  When she had done so she shook her head, setting the short cap of tight blond curls to bouncing.

 “And you, fraulein, what is your name?”  Karl directed the question to Beverly’s young charge.

 “Frances Carlisle, sir,” the rodent fem answered softly.

 “Where there any other survivors of this attack?” asked Jenny while working the fingers of her free hand through the curls.

 “Well, there were some others who made a jump for the shore when I did, but I didn’t see them again afterwards.  I didn’t know them very well; they were friends of Mr. Davenport who owned the boat.”

 The German feline recalled the two figures floating beside the boat but didn’t say a word.

 Ben’s brows furrowed.  “Davenport?  You mean, Jerome Davenport, who owns the Ruptured Duck bar and the Surf Side hotel?”

 The young rat woman merely nodded.

 The lepine pilot cocked her head at her canid crewmember.  “We stayed at the Surf Side last night.  Didn’t we meet with Davenport briefly before he left for some ‘important business meeting?’”

 The Cairn terrier nodded.  “Right, something about showing some investors ‘beachfront property.’”

 “Zo,” interjected Karl, “now ve have to determine whether this murder was planned, or a hasty cover-up to eliminate vitnesses to the tower’s destruction.”

 Jenny shook her head.  “Not our job, Karl.  We’ll leave that to the Syndicate investigators.  Our job is to get the new tower up and working.  And with the Ida Lewis about a half day’s travel from here, we had just as well take the time to look into what we’re going to need in setting up the new tower.”

 Cocking her head Beverly asked, “Why so long?  In getting here, that is?”

 “Captain Stanbridge had to replace another tower that was destroyed down around Albert Island,” said Ben.  “If #34 here was still intact, we would have given it a close inspection to determine if any work was to have been done to it.  If it checked out okay, then we would have gone onto to Spontoon Island and rendezvoused with the ship there.  Otherwise, we would have met them halfway here on their way up for the repairs.”

 Raman Singh stepped forward.  “Where would you have stayed should the light needed repairs?”

 With a shrug Karl answered, “Ve vould have camped on the beach until the Ida Lewis arrived.”

 The tiger smiled.  “Then let us extend our hospitality in sharing our facilities with you.  We are not more than a quarter mile from here.”

 “We hate to intrude, sir,” countered Jenny, “besides, we need to look into how we’re going to mount the tower on the coral.  The original site was mounded up out of the water, making it easier to screw the pilings into.”  She then shrugged, scratching her head.  “But that’s gone now so we’re going to have to try something else.”

 But any further conversation was halted by the excited appearance of a native.  He stumbled up to the doctor and began a stammering message filled with deep breaths and jerky hand motions in the direction he came from.  The tiger interrupted with questions, eliciting headbobbings and renewed pantomime.

 The rabbit fem gave her Cairn companion a sidelong glance.  “You understand anything of his jabbering?”

 Rubbing his jaw Ben nodded.  “The boy’s saying he was sent to find Doctor Singh.  The camp got word from some other natives that the black boat was seen not more that five, six miles from here.”

 The tiger confirmed the report when he rejoined the flyers.  “There is a portion of the island that is composed of islets amidst mangrove swamps and twisting waterways.  It is very easy to hide a sizable boat there.”

 “And if that’s the shipwreckers then we need to flush the bastards out and deal with them,” stated the rabbit pilot, ignoring the shocked expressions on the countenances of the tigers, the rat, and Miss Plumb.

 As one the pilot and crew turned and sprinted for their plane.  Jenny clambered up the side of the cockpit and dropped into her seat while Ben and Karl began pushing the amphibian into the water.

 “We can use a hand here,” shouted the Cairn male over his shoulder.

 With a quick word from the doctor the natives dropped their weapons and ran to lend a hand.  Soon the Seagull was floating free as Jenny began cranking the radial over.  It coughed and caught as the other two crewmen dropped through the bow opening.  Ben quickly pulled the canopy closed before taking his seat as Karl pulled his helmet back on. 

 The flying boat turned about and began to taxi away, picking up speed as it headed for open water.  A quick look out the sidewindow gave Jenny a parting glimpse of the cabin cruiser with its cargo of death before turning her attention back to getting into the air.

 The biplane smacked it way across the whitecaps, speed increasing as lift brought it up onto its step before breaking free.

 “Ben!” Jenny shouted over the roar of the engine.  She hadn’t got her helmet back on and plugged in.  “Call Ida Lewis and let them know we found the shipwreckers and are going to pay them a call!”

 “You think that’s wise?” the Cairn called back, tightening his chinstrap.

 “Maybe not, but they destroyed government property so we need to issue them a citation for it,” she barked with laughter.

* * * * * *

 Radio Operator Simon Prescott copied the message from Seagull, acknowledged, then dashed up to the bridge.  First Officer Clements had returned to his post by the helm when the tod entered.  Captain Silas Stanbridge had resumed his place on the flying bridge.  It wasn’t long before the simian stepped outside with the latest word from the flying boat.

 “Sir, Pilot Officer Monroe indicates they may have found those responsible for the destruction of Tower #34.”

 The man continued to stare ahead at the horizon, a thin streamer of smoke issuing from his pipe.  Presently he removed it from his mouth before turn to his First Officer.

 “Did she say whether there were any survivors from the boat?” Stanbridge asked.

 Glancing at the message again Clements looked up into the expectant face of his captain.

 “Yes, sir, there was only one survivor and that she was being cared for at a nearby doctor’s camp.  And, sir . . . ?”

 “Yes?”

 “There appears to be an addendum to the original transmission, apparently tacked on by Frasier when he sent it.”

 The captain cocked his head.  “And that is?”

 With thick brows furrowed the chimpanzee stated, “There’s a human woman working as a nurse at the camp.”

* * * * * *

 The seaplane swung south and east, following the curvature of the island.  The crew noted how the vegetation soon changed from palms to a thick copse of mangroves, with the intertwining of tidal pools and channels among the black roots.

 Holding the control column between her knees, Jenny Monroe was struggling to get her long ears through the leather helmet when she felt hands take the tips and guide them in.  Ben was helping to work them in while the rabbit pilot pulled the cover down over her curls.

 “Thanks,” she finally said after getting the cables plugged into the intercom.

 “What are we supposed to do after finding the black boat?” the plane’s engineer asked.

 Jenny shrugged.  “Depends on them.  If they’re smart, they’ll sit tight and let us get tired of hunting for them, then slip away this evening.  I’m hoping they’d get stupid and want to have a fight.”

 Ben shook his head.  “That I don’t like.  I mean, I’ve had my share of fighting, so has Karl.  But you’ve never been through that maelstrom so you don’t know what could or might happen.  The worse is getting the plane shot up and us wounded, or killed.  The Seagull can be patched up and ready to go again.  For us it would be time in the hospital followed by a discharge from the service, should we survive.  No, Jenny, if we spot them, we let Captain Stanbridge know.”

 “And what about those poor people on that cruiser, are we going to let them die for nothing?”  Jenny spat back.  She hadn’t see the carnage on the Bountiful, but the thought of those who did die for being at the wrong place at the wrong time was making her blood boil.  However, Karl’s frantic waving from the forward position disrupted further discussion.  Pilot and engineer craned their necks for a better look out the side windows.

 There was a break in the leafy canopy where water glinted in the light of the rising sun.  And nestled under the overhanging branches was a long dark shape.  It appeared to be a barge at first sight.  Jenny eased the control yoke and rudder for a left bank, circling over the suspicious craft below.  When they came around again she noticed how long and slender it was, with a tapered bow and stern.

 “Looks like a runabout,” said Karl over the intercom.  “Maybe a Chris Craft, perhaps?”

 “Sorta,” replied Ben, looking out the sidewindow.  “Kinda long for one, though.  Maybe a Phelps or a Lockhart, judging by its slenderness.”

 “Doesn’t matter what kind it is,” snapped the rabbit fem, “if it’s the wreckers we need to know for sure.”

 There was a long pause before the Cairn terrier answered, “ Maybe if we come in over the tops of the trees, just over their heads, and see what they do.”

 Not waiting to reply Jenny kicked the rudder again while easing the yoke down, losing altitude.  They came over the boat, barely skimming the tops of the trees when they got their answer.  A string of green tracers began fingering the air behind the amphibian.

 “Bingo!” shouted the rabbit, kicking the rubber bar quickly to spoil the wrecker’s aim.  “Ben, call Ida Lewis, and let ‘em know we found the wreckers!  Also advise them that we’re in hot pursuit!  And when you’re finished with that, get the other gun ready!”

  With a heartfelt sigh the canid turned back to his key and began tapping out the message.