High Water (1959) (9 page)

‘Now, just a minute, Mason,’ began Vivian, his face set in a grim frown. ‘She’s just a bit done up, there’s no need for you——’

‘Shut your mouth!’ Mason’s eyes glinted wildly. ‘And if I catch you messing about with her again, I’ll fix you too!’

A tight feeling clamped Vivian’s skull as, without effort, he reached out and gripped the front of the other man’s jacket, and pulled him easily towards him. When he spoke, his voice was strange, and flat.

‘Don’t threaten me, Mason! Or you’ll get the treatment you deserve!’

He gave a twist to the jacket, and a sharp thrust, and Mason reeled against the wall, his face white, and his small eyes popping with fright and hatred.

‘All right, you two, I think that’ll be enough for now!’ Jensen’s soft voice had a sharp ring of authority, as he limped out of the lighted room, followed by Lang, his round face anxious.

‘Sorry about that, but I don’t like people around me hitting women!’ Vivian’s arms fell to his sides.

‘All right, all right,’ snapped Jensen. ‘Now you’ve had your say, get into the study, and Lang, give him a drink.’

He turned to Mason, his hooded eyes cold. ‘And you, Andrew, I think you’d better take Janice home.’ He raised his hand, as Mason began to speak. ‘No, Andrew, I think
it’s
better this way. We’ve a lot to do, and we’ve no time for personal bitterness.’

Mason shook himself, his chest still heaving. ‘Very well,’ he croaked. ‘But keep that—that gentleman away from me!’

‘I think I’d better keep you away from
him
,’ answered Jensen dryly, then with a quick glance round, he stepped into the brightly lit study, and closed the windows.

He sank wearily into his chair, and watched Vivian’s taut face, as he took the drink from Lang, and tossed it back without apparently noticing it.

‘The lout!’ muttered Vivian eventually, surprised to find that he was still shaking with rage.

‘Finished?’ Jensen’s voice was brittle, like a small bell.

Vivian snorted, and banged down the glass. ‘Yes,’ he snapped, ‘except that I don’t like your friend very much!’

‘So we have gathered, my boy! And from what I’ve seen and heard this evening, I have had to revise my opinion a little also.’

He tapped slowly on his chair, the hands working, while his body lay back, still and restful.

‘Go and pay my respects to the guests, Felix, they’ll be wondering where everybody has got to, and no doubt they’ll be ready to go anyway.’

Lang hurried away, shooting a curious glance at Vivian as he did so. Jensen sat silently listening to the sounds coming from the other room, then with a little sigh, he turned his attention to the other man.

‘I gather from Felix, that apart from being a very hot-tempered young man,’ he chuckled slightly, ‘you are also completely trustworthy. I also know that you are fully aware of what is going on around you at the present moment. Well?’ He leaned forward, his eyes compelling in their sudden brightness.

‘I know enough,’ said Vivian carefully.

‘Enough! What is enough?’ snapped Jensen, his hands tapping their impatient rhythm.

As Vivian lowered his eyes, he hurried on, his tone impulsive.

‘Very well, Mr. Vivian, I will tell you! You know about the money, and where it comes from, eh? And you proved your loyalty to me by finding out that handsome, but foolish, young man David Muir. That, in my opinion, is enough!’ He paused for breath, the deformed corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.

‘Now, just a minute,’ said Vivian awkwardly, ‘I was mainly concerned in my own safety, for one thing, and for another, I didn’t much like the idea of your niece being led up the garden by Muir.’

‘Any more than you like the idea of her being deceived by me, and by this whole unlawful affair, is that not so?’

Vivian winced, it was like talking to a mind-reader.

‘You do not have to explain, my boy, it is quite clear to me,’ he smiled briefly, ‘as is the most obvious fact, that you are in love with my little Karen.’

He leaned back, satisfied with the effect of this bombshell on Vivian’s defences.

‘My feeling for Karen,’ he spoke her name carefully, as if he was handling a precious jewel, ‘is
my
business!’ he said coldly.

Jensen’s squat figure shook with silent laughter, but he stopped, as Vivian frowned angrily.

‘Please, do not misunderstand my rudeness,’ he explained, ‘it was just that your feeling for Karen is the one reason for my having you here tonight.’ He paused, allowing his words to sink in. ‘To me, also, she is everything,’ he said softly. ‘As you know, I believe, I was a prisoner of the Germans for some time, when they discovered that I might
be
of some use to them. During the time I was in Sachsenhausen concentration camp,’ he smiled wryly, ‘ah, I see by your face that you have heard of it! Well, while I was there, I lost everything, my family, which nearly killed me, and but for my desire to escape, and to take my revenge against those swine, I would have died too! As you can see, they left very little of my own body intact too! But when I got away to England with Karen, I rebuilt my life around her. I was determined that she, at least, would never know the meaning of fear and want, and that she would one day be able to enjoy the type of life I once knew!’

‘I think I can understand all that,’ Vivian said quietly.

‘Yes, I thought I had you figured correctly. Anyway, to cut short this miserable story, when I found the means to make money, literally, I did not hesitate. Why should I? After the war, I could get nothing back. My home had gone, everything was different. I was a stranger in my own country. While all around us we see today our former enemies strong and powerful, snakes in a different guise!’ He spat out the words. ‘Oh no, Mr. Vivian, I do not hesitate! Because if I must transact business with these sort of people, I will do it the way they taught me!’

‘What do you want me to do?’ Vivian asked quickly.

‘I want you to sail for France, at once. To make one last trip for me. Then I will finish with the whole business. I will be satisfied.’

‘Where to, this time?’

‘It’s only a little beach, I could show you on a chart, but it will not be difficult for you to find. But it may be dangerous, I will be quite frank about that.’

‘How so?’ Vivian was amazed to find himself so calm.

‘I feel the authorities will be suspicious, so you must be very careful.’ He nodded abstractedly. ‘Very careful. Mason knows about this, but he doesn’t know it’s the last time I
shall
produce any money. I think it better to tell him later. He is, I’m afraid, a very greedy man, and that may well be his undoing, but it is not to be ours.’ Then, with no apparent connexion, ‘Can you drive a car?’

Vivian nodded.

‘Good, then you must take me now to your boat, and we will look at the charts together. I will drive back slowly myself.’

‘Will I have any passengers on the trip over?’

‘I’m afraid it will be necessary to have Cooper, and another man.’ His voice was apologetic. ‘I want you to pick them up off Ramsgate, just in case you are seen sailing from London. You are not likely to be suspected of going on a difficult trip, if you start out alone,’ he explained.

‘I always seem to be sticking my neck out,’ grinned Vivian. ‘At least I know what I’m supposed to be doing this time.’

The old man grasped his wrist in a strong grip. ‘Make no mistake, it may be dangerous, so be careful.’ He smiled in his quaint manner. ‘For her sake, if not for your own!’

Vivian flushed. ‘I’ll not stand a chance,’ he muttered.

‘We have a saying in Denmark,’ he smiled sadly, as if at a memory. ‘Love is like a beautiful flower. It is not enough to admire it, you must also cherish and protect it, and be prepared to devote your life to it.’ He chuckled. ‘At least, I think that’s how it goes.’

Lang hurried back to the room. ‘I’ve got the car in the drive,’ he said quickly, ‘and nearly all the guests have gone.’

‘What about Karen?’ asked Jensen, his eyes at the window.

‘She’s slipped off too. She said she was going for a quick drive with our friend Muir.’

‘Good, let us be on our way then.’ He swung his body
awkwardly,
as he turned towards the door. ‘I will join you outside.’

Lang and Vivian crunched down the driveway, to where the car was parked.

‘Good luck, old boy,’ murmured Lang. ‘It looks as if things will be working out all right after all.’ He thrust out his hand in the dark, and Vivian saw the dull gleam of metal. ‘Here, stow this away somewhere.’

Vivian’s hand closed on to the butt of a heavy, automatic pistol, and he tried to push it away.

‘I don’t want that, Felix. I’m not going to use a gun, whatever happens.’

‘Is your yacht insured?’ asked Lang suddenly.

‘Of course, but what the hell has that got to do with it?’

‘How many times have you had to claim on the insurance?’ persisted Lang.

‘Never. But I still don’t see——’

Lang cut him short. ‘No, but you keep it, just in case of accidents, don’t you?’

He thrust the gun suddenly into Vivian’s coat pocket. ‘Well take this, old boy. Just in case of accidents,’ he added meaningly.

They both straightened up as Jensen limped out of the gloom.

‘Come, we must be off!’

And as the car began to move, he called softly to Lang, ‘Stop worrying about Janice Mason, Felix, something will work out in the end.’

Lang grunted with surprise. ‘No harm in hoping.’ His other words were drowned by the car’s powerful engine, as Vivian drove skilfully through the open gates.

He remembered the drive long afterwards, for during the whole journey, Jensen talked tirelessly, and yet at no time did Vivian feel anything but captivated by his companion’s
quiet,
gentle voice. Mostly the talk was of boats, and of Denmark before the occupation, and in his mind’s eye Vivian could clearly visualize the sort of carefree and happy life which Jensen had once led, and how the terrible bitterness and hatred, born of his suffering, had warped his mind away from his natural honesty.

Even when he was aboard
Seafox
, Jensen seemed unwilling to listen to Vivian’s point of view, or to ask if his reactions might have been the same. It was almost as if he was being driven by some strange, ungovernable force.

He stood watching with interest, as Vivian spread a chart of the Channel across the table, and switched on the small chart-light, then, his eyes squinting, he made a small mark on the French coastline with a pencil.

‘Here it is, now let me hear what you think.’

Vivian got busy with pencil and parallel rulers, working quickly and skilfully, stopping only to jot down notes in a small rough notebook.

He nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s a beach, isn’t it? And according to the chart, it’s completely deserted around that part of the coast.’

‘Yes, the beach is too small for much use, only about a hundred yards long, and all the rest is rocky, and too deep for holiday-makers, and that sort of thing.’

Vivian nodded again, his mind visualizing the scene that the chart, with its tiny figures and wavy lines, automatically formed in his brain.

‘H’m, I could anchor right in close, even at low water.’

‘Yes, now, can you be sure of being there tomorrow night?’

‘Well, let’s see.’ Vivian carefully consulted his tide tables, and ran off a quick course on the chart, the pencil making the only sound in the wheelhouse, as Jensen watched anxiously.

‘Yes, that’ll be all right. I shall sail tomorrow morning, about seven. That means, all being well, I shall be off Ramsgate at approximately twelve-thirty in the afternoon, or thereabouts.’ He paused. ‘What about Cooper and the other man, how will I pick them up?’

‘That’ll all be taken care of. They’ll be out in a motor-boat, on a fishing trip, if anyone wants to know! Go on,’ he added impatiently.

‘In that case, I’ll carry on round the coast, as if I was making for the Isle of Wight. Then, when I reach the Royal Sovereign Lightship,’ he tapped the chart again, ‘that’ll be about seven o’clock, and there’ll be no moon, I’ll swing south, and straight across the Channel to this beach of yours.’

‘Very good. I see you know your stuff!’

‘I had plenty of practice during the war,’ answered Vivian dryly.

Jensen straightened. ‘That’s that, then. You be there at midnight, and flash a red lamp at the shore. Make the letter V. If you get the letter G back, take the stuff ashore in the dinghy.’ He gave Vivian a piercing glance. ‘If you get at all suspicious, then don’t go ashore. Get out of it as quickly as you can.’

Vivian grinned, inwardly excited. Just like old times, he thought. It’d have to be good navigation too. One small beach, midway between the bustling town of Dieppe and St. Valery. Even without other complications, it would be quite an effort to get to the place dead on time.

As if reading his mind again, Jensen laid a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t forget, no risks, if you can help it.’

Together they looked at the bulky suitcase which Jensen had brought in the car.

‘Where shall I stow the money, I wonder?’ said Vivian, a puzzled frown on his features.

Jensen opened the case, revealing the contents, which to Vivian looked like an oilskin bag, about the size of a pillow. When he lifted it from the case, he marvelled at its weight. A great deal of money had been forced into this packet, he thought.

The other man was watching him, the hooded eyes bright, like a cat’s.

‘Can we get down into the engine room?’

As they scrambled down into the neat but cramped space below the wheelhouse, Jensen nodded approvingly at the twin engines, which lay inert, as if sleeping, and filling most of the space. Kneeling carefully and painfully on the deck, he peered down at the port engine, and eventually he pointed at the giant flywheel at the forward end, its sharp teeth shining with grease.

‘Under there, that is the place!’

Vivian understood in a flash. Between the flywheel and the bottom of the hull was about eight inches of hidden space, well sheltered by a maze of pipes and wires. While the boat was under way, no searcher, should there be one, would dare to thrust his arm anywhere near that spinning wheel, when, at an unexpected lurch of the boat, or an error of judgement, his arm would be torn from its socket by the cruel teeth.