Алистер Маклин: The Last Frontier

The man looked at him unbelievingly, looked wildly around to see what the trap was, saw none and scuttled round the corner of the house and up on to the road without a word. Within half a minute, his legs going like pistons, he was lost to sight round a corner of the road.

‘Putting the fear of death in one’s fellow-man becomes, as a pastime, increasingly distasteful with the passing of the days,’ the Count murmured. ‘I must put an end to it. Bring Jansci inside, will you, Sandor?’ The Count led the way through the little lobby and into the ferryman’s living-room, paused at the door, expelled his breath gustily and turned round.

‘On second thoughts, leave him in the lobby. It’s like a damn’ furnace in this room – It’ll only send him off again.’ He looked closely at Jansci as Sandor propped him in a corner with coats and some cushions taken from the living-room. ‘See, his eyes open already, but he is still dazed. Stay with him, Sandor, and let him come out of it by himself … Yes, my boy?’ He raised an eyebrow as the Cossack came rushing into the lobby. ‘You are perturbed about something?’

‘Colonel Hidas and his men,’ the Cossack gasped. ‘They have arrived. Their two trucks have just pulled up at the water’s edge.’

‘Even so.’ The Count screwed one of his Russian cigarettes into his holder, lit it and sent the match spinning out through the dark oblong of the open doorway. ‘They are punctual to a degree. Come, let us go and pass the time of day with them.’

The Count walked the length of the lobby, stopped abruptly, and barred the doorway with his arm.

‘Remain inside, Professor Jennings, if you please.’

‘I?’ Jennings looked at him in surprise. ‘Remain inside? My dear fellow, I’m the only person who is not remaining here.’

‘Quite. Nevertheless, remain here for the present. Sandor, see that he does.’ The Count wheeled and walked quickly away, without giving the professor opportunity for reply. Reynolds was at his heels, and his voice, when he spoke, was low and bitter.

‘What you mean is that it requires only one single, well-directed bullet into the professor’s heart and Colonel Hidas can retire, complete with prisoners, well satisfied with his night’s work.’

‘Something of the kind had occurred to me,’ the Count admitted. His feet ground on the shifting shingle, then he halted by the boat and looked about the dark, cold waters of the sluggish river. The truck and each individual figure, each man, were easily seen against the white background of snow, but it had already grown so dark that it was nearly impossible to distinguish features or uniforms, just black, empty silhouettes. Only Coco was recognizable, and that by virtue of his great height: but one man stood in advance of the others, his toes by the water’s edge, and it was to this man that the Count addressed himself.

‘Colonel Hidas?’

‘I am here, Major Howarth.’

‘Good, let us not waste time. I propose to effect this exchange as quickly as possible. Night, Colonel Hidas, is almost upon us, and while you’re treacherous enough in the daylight, God only knows what you’re like when darkness falls. I don’t propose to stay long enough to find out.’

‘I shall honour my promise.’

‘You shouldn’t use words you don’t understand … Tell your drivers to reverse till they come to the wood. You and your men are also to fall back as far as that. At that distance – two hundred metres – it should be quite impossible for you to distinguish any of us in any way. From time to time guns are accidentally discharged, but not to-night.’

‘It shall be exactly as you say.’ Hidas turned, gave some orders, waited till the two trucks and his men had started to move back from the river bank, then turned to face the Count. ‘And now what, Major Howarth?’

‘This. When I call you, you will release the general’s wife and daughter, and they will start walking towards the ferry. At the same moment, Dr Jennings will get into the boat here and cross over to the other side. Once there, he will climb up to the bank, wait there till the women are close, pass by them as they approach the river, then walk slowly towards you. By the time he’s there, the women should be safely across and it should be, by then, too dark for anyone, on either side, to achieve anything by indiscriminate shooting. The plan, I think, is foolproof.’

‘It shall be exactly as you say,’ Hidas repeated. He wheeled, scrambled up the shelving bank and started to walk back towards the dark line of trees in the distance, leaving the Count gazing after him and thoughtfully rubbing his chin.

‘Just that little bit too compliant, just that little bit too eager to please,’ he murmured. ‘Just a little … Tchah! My endlessly suspicious nature. What can he do? The time has come.’ He raised his voice. ‘Sandor! Cossack!’

He waited till the two men had come out from the cottage, then spoke to Sandor. ‘How is Jansci?’

‘Sitting up, still swaying a bit. His head hurts very badly.’

‘Inevitably.’ The Count turned to Reynolds. ‘I want to say a few words to Jennings, alone – Jansci and I. Perhaps you understand. I won’t keep him a minute, I promise you.’

‘Be as long as you like,’ Reynolds said dully. ‘There’s no hurry for me.’

‘I know, I know.’ The Count hesitated, made to say something, then changed his mind. ‘You might launch the boat, will you?’

Reynolds nodded, watched the Count disappear into the house, and turned to give the others a hand to pull the boat down the shingled beach into the water. The boat was heavier than it looked, they had to pull it gratingly across the pebbles, but with Sandor’s help it was in the water in a matter of a few seconds, tugging gently on its rope as the sluggish current caught it. Sandor and the Cossack walked back up to the top of the bank, but Reynolds remained at the water’s edge. He stood there for a few moments, pulled out his gun, checked that the safety-catch was on, and thrust it in his coat pocket, his hand still round it.

It seemed that only moments had elapsed, but already Dr Jennings was at the door. He said something that Reynolds couldn’t distinguish, then came Jansci’s deep voice, and then the Count’s.

‘You – you will forgive me if I remain here, Dr Jennings.’ The Count was hesitant and unsure for the first time that Reynolds had ever known. ‘It’s just – I would rather–’

‘I quite understand.’ Jennings’ voice was steady and composed. ‘Do not distress yourself, my friend – and thank you for all you have done for me.’

Jennings turned away abruptly, took Sandor’s arm to help him down from the high bank, then stumbled awkwardly down the shingle, a stooped figure – until this moment Reynolds had never quite realized how stooped the old man really was – with his collar turned high against the bitter chill of the evening and the skirts of his thin raglan coat flapping out pathetically about his legs. Reynolds felt his heart go out to the defenceless, gallant old man.

‘The end of the road, my boy.’ Jennings was still calm, but just a little husky. ‘I am sorry, I’m terribly sorry to have given you so much trouble, and all for nothing. You came a long way, a long way – and now this. This must be a bitter blow for you.’

Reynolds said nothing, he couldn’t trust himself to say anything: but the gun was coming clear of his pocket.

‘One thing I forgot to say to Jansci,’ Jennings murmured.

‘ Dowidzenia tell him I said that. Just “ dowidzenia !” He will understand.’

‘I don’t understand, and it doesn’t matter.’ Jennings moving towards the boat, gasped as he walked into the barrel of the gun held rigidly in Reynolds’ hand. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Professor Jennings. You can deliver your own messages.’