Desmond Bagley - The Tightrope Men

‘Five,’ said McCready. ‘There’s the gang that substituted Denison for Meyrick. They wouldn’t have come chasing after us to Kevo and Sompio. They knew better.’

Carey grunted. ‘I have my own ideas about who did the dirty on Denison and Meyrick — and I don’t think the Russians came into it.’

‘You said Thornton was here. What did he want?’

‘I didn’t find out,’ said Carey. ‘I wouldn’t let him speak to me except in front of a witness and he turned chicken. He’s too fly to be caught that way. But he knew about Sir Charles Hastings, and he knew about Denison.’

‘Did he, by God? We’ll have to seal that leak when we get back to London. What did Hastings say?’

‘Oh, we’ve got the goods all right. He’s taken photocopies back to London. Now we can prepare for the next stage of the operation. I hope nothing happens tonight because I’d like to get Denison and the girl out of it. They’re leaving tomorrow on the ten o’clock flight from Helsinki.’

‘Where are the original papers now?’

‘In the safe in the library.’

‘In that antique? I could open it with my grandmother’s hat-pin.’

Carey smiled blandly. ‘Does it matter — under the circumstances?’

‘No, I don’t suppose it does,’ said McCready.

Denison went to bed early that night because he had a lot of sleep to catch up on and because he had to get up fairly early to catch the flight to London. He said good night to Lyn and then went into his bedroom where he undressed slowly. Before getting into bed he drew the curtains to darken the room. Even though he was now below the Arctic Circle there was still enough light in the sky to make falling asleep annoyingly difficult. It would get darker towards midnight but never more than a deep twilight.

He woke up because someone was prodding him, and came swimming up to the surface out of a deep sleep. ‘Giles; wake up!’

‘Mmmm. Who’s that?’

The room was in darkness but someone looked over him. ‘Lyn,’ she whispered.

He elbowed himself up. ‘What’s the matter? Turn on the light.’

‘No!’ she said. ‘There’s something funny going on.’

Denison sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘What sort of funny?’

‘I don’t really know. There are some people in the house — down in the library. Americans. You know the man you introduced me to — the man you said was a bore.’

‘Kidder?’

‘Yes. I think he’s down there. I heard his voice.’

Kidder! The man who had interrogated him in the hotel in Helsinki after he had been kidnapped from the sauna. The man who had led the American party at Kevo. The over-jovial and deadly boring Jack Kidder.

‘Christ!’ said Denison. ‘Hand me my trousers — they’re on a chair somewhere.’ He heard a noise in the darkness and the trousers were thrust into his groping hand. ‘What were you doing prowling in the middle of the night?’

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ said Lyn. ‘I was standing at my bedroom window when I saw these men in the grounds — there’s still just enough light to see. They didn’t seem to be up to any good — they were dodging about a bit. Then they all disappeared and I wondered what to do. I wanted to find Carey or McCready but I don’t know where their rooms are. Anyway, I looked down the stairs and there was a light in the library, and when I got to the door I heard Kidder’s voice.’

‘What was he saying?’

‘I don’t know. It was just a rumble — but I recognized the voice. I didn’t know what to do so I came and woke you.’

Denison thrust his bare feet into shoes. ‘There’s a sweater on the back of the chair.’ Lyn found it and he put it on. ‘I don’t know where Carey’s room is, either. I think I’ll just nip downstairs.’

‘Be careful,’ said Lyn. ‘I’ve heard enough shooting already.’

‘I’ll just listen,’ he said. ‘But you be ready to scream the place down.’

He opened the bedroom door gently and went into the dimness of the corridor. He trod carefully on his way to the stairs to avoid creaking boards, and tiptoed down, his hand running along the balustrade. The door to the library was closed but illumination leaked out from under the door. He paused by the door and listened and heard the deep sound of male voices.

He could make nothing of it until he bent and put his ear to the keyhole and then he immediately recognized the gravelly voice of Kidder. He could not distinguish the words but he recognized the voice. Another man spoke in lighter tones and Denison knew it was Carey.

He straightened up and wondered what to do. Lyn had spoken of men in the plural which would mean there were others about besides Kidder. He could cause a disturbance and arouse the house but if Kidder was holding up Carey at gunpoint that might not be good for Carey. He thought he had better find out what was really going on before doing anything drastic. He turned and saw Lyn standing by the staircase and he put his finger to his lips. Then he took hold of the door knob and eased it around very gently.

The door opened a crack and the voices immediately became clearer. Carey was speaking. ‘...and you ran into trouble again at Sompio?’

‘Jesus!’ said Kidder. ‘I thought we’d run into the Finnish army but it turned out they were goddamn Czechs — we wounded one and he was cussing fit to bust. Who the hell would expect to find Czechs in the middle of Finland? Especially carrying automatic rifles and some sort of crazy flame-thrower. That’s why I’m bandaged up like this.’

Carey laughed. ‘That was our crowd.’

Denison swung the door open half an inch and put his eye to the crack. He saw Carey standing by the safe in the corner but Kidder was not in sight. Carey said, ‘It wasn’t a flame-thrower — it was a bloody big shotgun operated by no less than the eminent Dr Meyrick.’

‘Now, there’s a slippery guy,’ said Kidder.

‘You shouldn’t have snatched him from the hotel in Helsinki,’ said Carey. ‘I thought you trusted me.’

‘I trust nobody,’ said Kidder. ‘I still wasn’t sure you weren’t going to cross me up. You were playing your cards close to your chest — I still didn’t know where the papers were. Anyway, I got nothing out of Meyrick; he gave me a lot of bull which I nearly fell for, then he neatly busted my larynx. You breed athletic physicists in Britain, Carey.’

‘He’s a remarkable man,’ Carey agreed.

Kidder’s voice changed and took on a more incisive quality. ‘I reckon that’s enough of the light conversation. Where are Merikken’s papers?’

‘In the safe.’ Carey’s voice sharpened. ‘And I wish you’d put that gun away.’

‘It’s just window dressing in case anyone snoops in,’ said Kidder. ‘It’s for your protection. You wouldn’t want it getting around that you’re... shall we say... co-operating with us, would you? What’s with you, Carey? When the word came that you were willing to do a deal no one would believe it. Not such an upright guy like the respected Mr Carey.’

Carey shrugged. ‘I’m coming up to retirement and what have I got? All my life I’ve lived on a thin edge and my nerves are so tight I’ve got a flaming big ulcer. I’ve shot men and I’ve been shot at; during the war the Gestapo did things to me I don’t care to remember. And all for what? When I retire I get a pension that’ll do little more than keep me in tobacco and whisky.’

‘Cast away like an old glove,’ said Kidder mockingly.

‘You can laugh,’ said Carey with asperity. ‘But wait until you’re my age.’

‘Okay, okay!’ said Kidder soothingly. ‘I believe you. You’re an old guy and you deserve a break. I know your British Treasury is penny-pinching. You should have worked our side of the fence — do you know what the CIA appropriation is?’