Hammond Innes - Blue Ice

I glanced at Jorgensen. He was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on Curtis. Opposite him, across the cabin, the cripple sat back in his chair and smiled softly. ‘What about you, Mr Dahler?’ I said. ‘Why have you come to see me?’

‘Because I also wish to know more about Farnell’s death,’ he said.

Then why do you want to be put ashore?’ I asked. ‘The answer surely is to come with us to Fjaerland?’

‘I should like to,’ he replied. ‘But unfortunately-’ he shrugged his shoulders.

‘You say you’d like to?’ I was puzzled.

His fingers plucked at the cloth of the half-empty sleeve. ‘There are difficulties, you see.’ His face was working. His whole body looked taut.

‘What difficulties?’ I inquired.

‘Ask Jorgensen.’ His voice was violent.

I turned. Jorgensen’s face was white. The rather leathery skin remained an impassive mask, but his blue eyes were narrow and watchful. ‘Suppose you tell them yourself,’ he said.

Dahler jumped to his feet. ‘Tell them myself!’ he cried. ‘No. Why should I tell them that I can no longer enter my own country?’ He thrust back his chair and took a step towards Jorgensen. Then he turned abruptly about. A few agitated paces and he was brought up by the door to the galley. He swung round and faced us. ‘Never will I tell them that,’ he said. His brown eyes fastened themselves on me with a strange intentness. ‘I’ll come, Mr Gansert. I owe Farnell a debt.’ He glanced at Jorgensen. ‘And I believe in paying my debts,’ he added.

‘What sort of a debt?’ I asked.

‘He saved my life,’ he answered.

‘You are making a mistake, Mr Dahler,’ Jorgensen said quietly. ‘In Norway you will be liable to arrest.’

‘And which one of your employees will you get to inform against me this time, eh?’ Dahler asked with a sneer. ‘Or will you do your own dirty work?’ He moved slowly across the room, his head thrust out towards Jorgensen and twisted slightly to one side. ‘Haven’t you done enough already?’

‘Sit down, Mr Dahler please,’ I said and put my hand on his shoulder.

He spun round on me and for a moment I thought he was going to bite my hand, there was such a look of venom on his face. Then suddenly he relaxed and sat down. ‘Excuse me,’ he said.

I looked towards Jorgensen. ‘Finally there is you, Mr Jorgensen. You came here, you say, to discuss the possibilities of a B.M. amp; I. tie-up with your own organisation.’ I leaned already told you, I don’t believe you. You came here because you’re as interested in Farnell as we are. You talked to Sir Clinton about nickel and uranium deposits. You were just guessing. You don’t know what metal has been discovered in Norway.’ I paused and then said very deliberately, ‘But I do — and it isn’t either nickel or uranium. As for knowing where the deposits are located, you haven’t the faintest idea. Your visit over here is nothing but bluff.’

‘So you know what metal it is that has been discovered, eh?’ His eyes were without expression. It was impossible to read his thoughts. ‘Was it Farnell who told you that?’

‘Yes,’ I answered.

‘When did you hear from him?’

‘The message was received after his death,’ I said.

The girl started forward with a little cry. Dahler was watching Jorgensen.

‘I’ll set you ashore if you like,’ I said. ‘But remember — here in this cabin, I am convinced, is collected all the truth about Farnell — or as much as we require to know. And whilst you’re in the States — I shall be in Norway.’ I paused, watching him. Then I crossed over to the door. ‘Think it over,’ I said. ‘If you like, I’ll put you ashore at Greenwich. Only make up your mind quickly. We’ll be passing the landing stage in about five minutes.’

I closed the door on them then and went up on deck. It was very dark after the glare of the cabin. All about us was a glitter of lights. The air was cold on my face. The deck throbbed under my feet. The swish-swish of water slipping past us was exhilarating. We were on our way.

I went aft to where Dick sat, a still, dark figure behind the wheel, the slender mizzen mast outlined like a spear against the glow of London. ‘I’ll take her now,’ I said. ‘You go down and get our passengers sorted out. Allocate cabins, issue blankets, sheets, clothes, anything they need. Keep them occupied, Dick, and separate Jorgensen from Dahler. Introduce the Somers girl to the galley and have her get a meal together. Don’t give any of them time to think. I don’t want anyone, least of all Jorgensen, coming up to me and asking to be put ashore.’

‘Okay, skipper,’ he said. ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Oh, and tell them to write down any messages they want sent,’ I added as he moved off. ‘Explain we’ve got transmitting as well as receiving sets.’

‘Right,’ he said and disappeared down the companionway.

I slipped into a duffle coat and took my place behind the wheel. Wilson was coiling down the warps. I called to him and he came aft. He was a Cornishman, not young, but a fine seaman. ‘Get Number One jib and stays’! from the sail locker,’ I said. ‘And the jib-headed tops’l. If the wind doesn’t increase we’ll be able to carry them.’

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ he said. His seamed, weather-beaten face showed ruddy in the glow of the port navigation light. He paused. ‘Is there any truth in what Mr Everard was saying, sir, that we’re bound for Norway?’

‘Quite true,’ I said. ‘Make any difference to you?’

His rugged features spread into a grin. ‘There’s better fishing in Norway than in the Mediterranean.’ He spat over the lee rail as though to emphasise the uselessness of the Mediterranean and went for’ard. My gaze wandered to the masthead. The light, signifying that we were a sailing vessel under power, shone on the bare rigging. I settled myself down to the long vigil of conning the ship down to the mouth of the estuary. I didn’t need the chart. I’d been up and down the Thames under sail so often. I knew every turn and twist, the buoy lights and the landmarks. Going down under power was comparatively straightforward. The only thing that worried me was whether Jorgensen would stay aboard.

It was with a sigh of relief, therefore, that I watched the Royal Naval College at Greenwich slide past in the darkness. He was not the sort of man who couldn’t make up his mind. I’d said I’d set him ashore at Greenwich if he wanted me to. Since he hadn’t requested me to, the odds were he had decided to stay. But I wouldn’t be happy till I picked up the Nore. After that there’d be no turning back.

Half an hour passed and then Dick came up. ‘Well, I’ve got them all sorted out,’ he said. He glanced over his shoulder and in a mock whisper said, ‘Believe it or not, Jorgensen, the great Norwegian industrialist, is helping Jill get grub.’

‘Jill I take it is Miss Somers?’

‘That’s right. She’s a pippin. Got stuck into it right away. Knows her way around already.’

‘Where’s Dahler?’ I asked.

‘In his cabin. I’ve given him the single one for’ard of the saloon on the starb’d side. The girl’s got the port one. Jorgensen’s in with you and Curtis Wright’s sharing with me.’ He produced a sheaf of papers. ‘Shall I send these off right away?’

‘What are they?’

‘Messages for transmission.’

‘Leave ‘em in the chartroom,’ I told him.

They’re quite straightforward,’ he said. ‘Three from Jorgensen, one from Dahler and one from the girl.’

‘I’d still like to look them over,’ I replied. ‘And get below again, will you, Dick. I don’t want them left on their own till we’re at sea.’

‘Okay,’ he said, and went below.