Partisans (27 page)

‘I am not a mountaineer, Major Petersen. I take your point.'

‘Another request, if I may. Let Giacomo and myself walk alongside the young ladies' ponies. I'm afraid the young ladies don't care too much for heights.'

‘I don't want you!' Even the prospect of the descent had brought a note of hysteria into Sarina's voice. ‘I don't want you!'

‘She doesn't want you,' Crni said drily.

‘She doesn't know what she's saying. It's just a personal opinion of mine. She suffers severely from vertigo. What have I to gain by saying so?'

‘Nothing that I can see.'

As they lined up by the cliff-top, Giacomo, leading a pony, brushed by Petersen and said, sotto voce: ‘That, Major, was quite a performance.' He vanished into the snow with Petersen looking thoughtfully after him.

A steep descent, in treacherous conditions, is always more difficult and dangerous than a steep ascent and so it was to prove in this case. It is also slower and it took them all of forty minutes to reach the valley floor but reach it they did without incident. Sarina spoke for the first time since they had left the plateau.

‘We are down?'

‘Safe and sound as ever was.'

She gave a long quavering sigh. ‘Thank you. You don't need to hold my horse any more.'

‘Pony. Whatever you say. I was getting quite attached to the old lady.'

‘I'm sorry,' she said quickly. ‘I didn't mean it that way. It's just that you're so – so awful and so kind. No,
I'm
the person who is awful.
You're
the person they're after.'

‘As is only fitting. My rank.'

‘They're going to kill you, aren't they?'

‘Kill me? What a thought. Why should they? A little discreet questioning perhaps.'

‘You said yourself that General Granelli is an evil man.'

‘General Granelli is in Rome. Haven't you given any thought as to what is going to happen to you?'

‘No, I haven't.' Her voice was dull. ‘I don't think I care what's going to happen to me.'

‘That,' said Petersen, ‘is what is known as a conversation stopper.' They moved on in silence, the still heavily falling snow now at their backs, until Crni called a halt. He had the beam of his torch directed at the Italian army truck Petersen had stolen two days previously.

‘It was thoughtful of you, Major, to leave transport so conveniently at hand.'

‘If we can help our allies – you didn't arrive by this.'

‘It was thoughtful, but not necessary.' Crni moved the beam of the torch. Another, even larger Italian truck, was parked close by. ‘All of you, into that truck. Edvard, come with me.'

The eight prisoners were ushered into the larger truck and made to sit on the floor crowded up against the cab. Five soldiers followed them and sat on side benches towards the rear. Five torch beams were directed forwards and in the light of the beams it was possible to see that an equal number of machine-pistol barrels were pointed in the same direction. The engine started up and the truck jolted off. Five minutes later they turned right on to the main Neretva road.

‘Ah!' Harrison said. ‘Bound for the bright lights of Jablanica, I see.'

‘On this road, where else?' Petersen said. ‘After that the road divides. We could be going anywhere. I would guess that Jablanica is as far as we go. It's getting late. Even Crni and his men have to sleep.'

Shortly afterwards the driver stopped both the truck and the engine.

‘I don't see any bright lights around here,' Harrison said. ‘What are those devils up to now?'

‘Nothing that concerns us,' Petersen said. ‘Our driver is just waiting for Crni and his friend Edvard to join him up front.'

‘Why? They have their own transport.'

‘Had. It's in the Neretva now. That lad who met us yesterday – you remember, Dominic, the driver with the sunglasses – would not have failed to note the make and number of the truck. When and if Rankovi
are discovered and freed – which may not be for hours yet – the proverbial hue and cry may be raised. “May”, I say. I doubt it. The Colonel is not a man to publicize the security gaps in his forces. But Crni doesn't strike me as a man to take the slightest chance.'

‘Objection,' Giacomo said. ‘If your friend Cipriano is the man behind this, he already knows the description of the truck. So what's the point in destroying the truck?'

‘Giacomo, you sadden me. We don't
know
that Cipriano is the man behind this but if he is he wouldn't want to leave any clue that would point a finger at him in connection with the abduction. Remember that, officially, he and the Colonel are sworn allies, faithful unto death.'

Voices came from up front, a door banged, the engine started again and the truck moved off. ‘That must be the way of it,' Giacomo said to no-one in particular. ‘Pity about the truck, though.'

They jolted on through the snow-filled night, torch beams and barrels still pointed at them, until suddenly Harrison said: ‘At last. Civilization. It's a long time since I've seen city lights.'

Harrison, as was his custom, was exaggerating to a considerable extent. A few dim lights appeared occasionally through the opened back of the truck but hardly enough to lend the impression that they were driving through a metropolis. By and by the truck pulled off on to a side road, climbed briefly, then stopped. The guards apparently knew where they were and did not wait for orders. They jumped down, lined up torches and guns as before and were joined by Crni.

‘Down,' he said. ‘This is as far as we go tonight.'

They lowered themselves to the ground and looked around them. As far as could be judged from the light of the beams, the building before them appeared to be standing alone and seemed, vaguely, to be shaped like a chalet. But, in the darkness and the snow it could have been just any building.

Crni led the way inside. The hallway presented a pleasant contrast to the swirling cold of the wintry night outside. The furnishings were sparse enough, just a table, a few chairs and a dresser, but it was warm – a small log fire burned in a low hearth – and warmly if not brightly lit: electric power had not yet reached this part of Jablanica and suspended oil lamps were the norm.

‘Door to the left is a bathroom,' Crni said. ‘Can be used anytime. There will, of course,' he added unnecessarily, ‘be a guard in the hall all the time. The other door to the left leads to the main quarters of the house and does not concern you. Neither do those stairs.' He led the way to an opened door on the far right and ushered them inside. ‘Your quarters for the night.'

The room was unmistakably such as one would only find in a chalet. It was long, wide and low, with beamed ceiling, knotted pine walls and an oak parquet floor. Cushioned benches ran both sides of the room, there was a table, several armchairs, a very commodious dresser, some cupboards and shelves and, best of all, a rather splendid log fire several times the size of the one in the hallway. The only immediately incongruous note was struck by some canvas cots, blankets and pillows stacked neatly in one corner. It was George, inevitably, who discovered the second and not so immediately incongruous note. He pulled back the curtains covering one of the two windows and examined with interest the massive bars on the outside.

‘It is part of the general malaise of our times,' he said sadly. ‘With the onset of war, the deterioration of standards is as immediate as it is inevitable. The rules of honour, decency and common law go by default and moral degeneracy rears its ugly head.' He let fall the curtains. ‘A wise precaution, very wise. One feels sure that the streets of Jablanica are infested by burglars, house-breakers, footpads and other criminals of that ilk.'

Crni ignored him and looked at Petersen who was inspecting the bedding. ‘Yes, Major, I can count, too. Only six cots. We have a room upstairs for the two young ladies.'

‘Considerate. You were very sure of yourself, weren't you, Captain Crni?'

‘Oh, no, he wasn't,' George said disgustedly. ‘A blind man could drive a coach and four with bells on through Mihajlovi
's perimeter.' For a second time Crni ignored him. He had probably come to the conclusion that this was the only way to treat him.

‘We may or may not move on tomorrow. It certainly won't be early. Depends entirely on the weather. From now on our travel will be mainly on foot. Should you be hungry, there's food in that cupboard there. The contents of that high dresser will be of more interest to the professor.'

‘Ah!' George opened the doors and looked appreciatively at what was, in effect, a comprehensively stocked miniature bar. ‘The window bars are superfluous, Captain Crni. I shall not be moving on tonight.'

‘Even if you could, where would you go? When you ladies want to sleep, let the guard know and I'll show you your room. I may or may not wish to interrogate you later, it depends on a call I have to make.'

‘You surprise me,' Petersen said. ‘I thought the phone system had ceased to work.'

‘Radio, of course. We do have one. In fact, we have four, the other three being yours and those two very modern sets belonging to the von Karajans. I expect the code books will also prove to be useful.'

He left behind him a profound and fairly lengthy silence interrupted only by the sound of a cork being extracted from a bottle. Michael was the first to speak.

‘Radios,' he said bitterly. ‘Code books.' He looked accusingly at Petersen. ‘You know what this means, don't you?'

‘Yes. Nothing. Crni was amusing himself. All it means is that we will be put to the trouble of getting ourselves a new code. What else do you think they'll do after they discover the books are missing? They will do this, of course, not to protect themselves against their enemies but against their friends. The Germans have twice broken the code that we use among ourselves.' He looked at Harrison, who had seated himself, cross-legged, in an arm-chair before the fire and was contemplating a glass of wine that George had just handed him. ‘For a man who has just been driven from house and home, Jamie, or snatched from it, which comes to the same thing, you don't look all that downcast to me.'

‘I'm not,' Harrison said comfortably. ‘No reason to be. I never thought I'd find quarters better than my last one but I was wrong, I mean, look, a real log fire. Carpe diem, as the man says. What, Peter, do you think the future holds for us?'

‘I wouldn't know how to use a crystal ball.'

‘Pity. It would have been nice to think that I might see the white cliffs of Dover again.'

‘I don't see why not. No one's after your blood. I mean, you haven't been up to anything, have you, Jamie? Such as sending clandestine radio messages, in codes unknown to us, to parties also unknown to us?'

‘Certainly not.' Harrison was unruffled. ‘I'm not that kind of person, I don't have any secrets and I'm useless with a radio anyway. So you think I might see the white cliffs again. Do you think I'll be seeing the old homestead on Mount Prenj again?'

‘I should think it highly unlikely.'

‘Well now. A fairly confident prediction
and
without a crystal ball.'

‘For that, I don't need a crystal ball. A person who has occupied the – ah – delicate position you have done will never again be employed in that capacity after he's been captured by the enemy. Torturing, brain-washing, reconversion to a double-agent, that sort of thing. Standard practice. You'd never be trusted again.'

‘I say, that's a bit thick, isn't it? A blameless, stainless reputation. It's hardly my fault that I've been captured. It wouldn't have happened if you people had looked after me a bit better. Thank you, George, I will have a little more. Now that I'm happily out of that place, I've no intention of ever returning to it, not unless I'm dragged forcibly back to it, kicking and screaming in the accepted fashion.' He raised his glass. ‘Your health, Peter.'