Desmond Bagley - The Freedom Trap

Slade wearily lifted up his head. ‘I know you,’ he said, ‘we’ve met before.’

‘Yes — in happier circumstances,’ said Wheeler. ‘Once at an EFTA conference and again, if my memory is correct, at a dinner given by some industrial organization or other — I forget which.’

‘Your name is Wheeler, you’re a member of Parliament. Why should you want to help me?‘

‘A good question,’ I said. ‘Answer him, Wheeler. Tell Slade why you are willing to commit treason.’ I rubbed my sore stomach tentatively. ‘As far as I know treason still carries the death penalty — it isn’t covered by the Act of Parliament which abolished hanging for murder.’ I grinned at him. ‘But who should know that better than you?’

Wheeler didn’t rile easily. He smiled, and said coolly, ‘I am helping you because I don’t recognize British law; because, like you, I’m fighting for a better world.’ He put his hand on Slade’s shoulder. ‘Because, also like you, I’m a good communist.’

‘Then why didn’t I know about you?’ asked Slade. ‘I should have known.’

‘Why should you have known? You didn’t need to know, and therefore you weren’t told. It was safer that way.’ Wheeler smiled. ‘You might have been important, Slade, but you were never as important as I am.’

I corrected him. ‘As important as you were. You’re finished, Wheeler.’

Apart from gently shaking his head he ignored me. With his eyes fixed on Slade, he said, ‘What nonsense has Stannard been filling you up with? You’re a fool if you believe the enemy.’

Slade said, ‘What are we doing here in Malta?’

Wheeler straightened and laughed. ‘So that’s the maggot he’s put in your mind. I’m taking you home, of course. I spend my annual holiday in the Mediterranean; it would have looked damned suspicious if I’d gone to the Baltic this year. Even for you I wouldn’t risk that.’

I said to Slade, ‘Ask him if he’s read any good thoughts lately — from the Little Red Book.’

‘You’re an Albanian,’ said Slade flatly. ‘I don’t trust you.’

‘So that’s it,’ said Wheeler softly. ‘Does it make any difference?’

Slade nodded towards the silent Chinese who stood behind Wheeler. ‘He does.’

I chipped in again. ‘He makes a hell of a difference. Wheeler says he’s taking you home. Home is where the heart is, and his heart is in Peking.’

That got to Wheeler. He said venomously, ‘I think I’ll have to shut you up — permanently.’ He relaxed again and struck his hands lightly together. ‘Not that it makes much difference whether you know or not, Slade. It made things easier as long as you believed you were going to Moscow — a willing prisoner is easier to handle. But we’ve got you and you’ll still get to your destination intact.’

From the look in Slade’s eyes I doubted it. It wouldn’t be beyond his capabilities to commit suicide somewhere along the way, and death would be far preferable to the information-extracting process awaiting him in China. Besides, under the circumstances it was his duty to commit suicide. Any man in his position knew that when it came to this sort of crunch he was expendable.

But Wheeler was ahead of us on that one. ‘Your confinement will be more rigorous, of course. We can’t have you hanging yourself by your braces.’

‘Do I get to go along?’ I asked.

Wheeler looked at me reflectively. ‘You?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think my friends would be interested in you. You’ve been out of the game too long to know much about recent developments in British Intelligence. A South African sleeper is of no consequence.’ He half turned his head and said over his shoulder. ‘What do you think?’

The Chinese spoke for the first time. ‘He is of no use, but he is dangerous because of what he knows,’ he said dispassionately. ‘Kill him.’

I said something indescribably rude in Mandarin, and he opened his mouth in surprise. Orientals aren’t all that inscrutable.

‘Yes, Stannard; we must kill you. But how to do it?’ Wheeler asked himself pensively. ‘I have it. We discover a stowaway on board — an armed stowaway. There is a scuffle on his discovery and a shot is fired — the stowaway is killed with his own gun. We notify the police here and he turns out to be none other than Rearden, the British gaol-breaker.’ He smiled. ‘That would do a lot for my image; think of the headlines in the British press. What do you think of it?’

‘Not much,’ I said. ‘If you turn me in to the police they’ll want to know about Slade, too. He’s a hell of a sight more important than I am. They’ll want to search this ship, and they’ll take it apart. You wouldn’t want them to do that with Slade still aboard.’

Wheeler nodded. ‘True. I’m afraid I must forgo that charming theatricality; my image must do without it. Besides, before you die there are some questions to be answered, such as what accomplices you have. That reminds me.’ He turned to the skipper. ‘What result of the search for his boat?’

‘I’ll find out,’ said the skipper, and left the lounge.

I sighed. ‘I came aboard alone.’

Wheeler nodded. ‘You were alone at the beginning — I know that. But you might have picked up someone along the way. You realize that I must be certain.’ He indicated the Chinese. ‘My friend has ways of making sure, but you won’t want to hear about that.’

I looked about the lounge casually. The departure of the skipper had reduced the odds against me, but not by much. There were two seamen behind me, one covering me with my own gun, and Wheeler and the Chinese were in front. The Chinese held his hand in his pocket and I was certain he also had a gun. I looked at Slade and wondered if he’d join me if it came to putting up a fight.

I said, ‘I’d like to know how you got on to Mackintosh and me so fast. You seem to know all about me — including my South African history.’

Wheeler chuckled. ‘You British are a nation of amateurs — and that goes for your intelligence services. I was told about you, of course.’

I was genuinely bewildered. ‘Who could have told you? There was only Mackintosh and me.’

‘Precisely. And you didn’t tell me.’

My jaw dropped and I stared at Wheeler incredulously. ‘Mackintosh?’

‘Who else could — as you point out. He was a little drunk and very indiscreet. I had no difficulty in flattering the fool. Towards the end he realized he was saying too much and shut up, but I got enough out of him.’ He laughed. ‘We were having a discussion on prison reform at the time.’

I was bewildered. Wheeler’s description didn’t fit the Mackintosh I knew, who was not a fool and certainly not susceptible to flattery. What in hell had Mackintosh been doing to blow things like that?

‘He’s dead, of course,’ said Wheeler casually. ‘I saw to that immediately as soon as I was certain we had you safe in Ireland. But we didn’t have you safe, did we? Those IRA clowns are also amateurs. Never mind; here you are and all is well, after all.’

I felt chilled to my bones. Whether Mackintosh was dead or not — and that was a moot point because I had told Alison to spread the word of his impending demise — I felt betrayed and utterly alone. Like a man who treads on a stair that isn’t there. I felt jolted. I had to believe Wheeler because nothing else made sense, and yet Mackintosh’s betrayal didn’t make sense, either. Unless...

The skipper returned, breaking my chain of thought. ‘No boat found,’ he said.

Wheeler was fitting another cigarette into his holder. ‘You may have been telling the truth, after all,’ he said. He turned his head to the skipper. ‘I want safe places for these two separately. What do you suggest?’