Running Blind / The Freedom Trap (49 page)

‘How did you get hold of him?’ Wheeler asked the skipper.

‘Mehmet found a hook on the stern rail and a rope leading to the water. He removed it and told me. I set up a watch.’

Wheeler nodded. ‘You didn’t know whether someone was going to come on board or leave,’ he commented.

The skipper waved his hand at me and Slade. ‘We caught these two leaving. This idiot…’ He stabbed his finger at Lynch.…let them go.’

Wheeler regarded Lynch frostily. ‘I’ll talk to you later. Now get below.’

Lynch looked as though he was about to expostulate but he caught the cold glare from Wheeler’s eye and promptly turned on his heel and went away, giving me a look of dislike as he went. I was beginning to improve physically; my shoulders no longer felt totally dislocated and although my belly was one massive ache I could now breathe more or less normally.

Wheeler said, ‘Well, Mr Stannard; how did you expect to take Slade ashore? By boat? Where is it?’

‘I swam out,’ I said.

‘And you were going to swim back,’ he said incredulously. With Slade a cripple? I don’t believe you.’ He swung around to the skipper. ‘Make a search for the boat.’

The skipper didn’t move. ‘It’s being done.’

Wheeler nodded approvingly and crossed to Slade who had now sagged into a chair. ‘My dear chap,’ he said anxiously. ‘What possessed you to leave with this man? Do you know who he is? If you had left the ship he would have put you in the hands of the police. And you know what that would mean—forty years in a British gaol. What sort of tale could he have told you?’

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?’

‘Slade can go back to the cabin,’ said the skipper.

‘After what has just happened?’ Wheeler lifted his eyebrows.

The Chinese said, ‘He must be manacled to the bed, and a man must stay
in
the cabin all the time. He must not be permitted to make noise.’

Wheeler thought about it. ‘All right; what about Stannard?’

‘The forepeak; there’s a steel bulkhead with a watertight door. He won’t get out of there.’

Wheeler nodded curtly, then said to me, ‘I’m afraid your interrogation will have to be postponed until we’re away from land. The sound of a man screaming travels a long way.’ He waved his hand and I found my arm held. ‘By the way, were you responsible for what happened to our screws?’

‘What’s happened to your screws?’ I managed to grin. ‘Are they loose?’

‘Very stiff-upper-lipped,’ commented Wheeler. ‘A quip in the face of death—very British. Take him away.’

I was hustled out of the lounge, a man on each side of me. I passed Slade whose face was yellowy-grey and who looked absolutely defeated and then I was thrust out on to the stern deck. There were now lights aboard
Artina
and, as we went forward along the side-deck, I saw that the man on my right still carried my gun. I didn’t like the sound of that forepeak; from what I had seen of it on the plans of
Artina’s
sister ship it was only four feet high—a hermetically-sealed steel box. The odds were I’d die of heat-stroke or suffocation.

But relish the prospect or not, the man next to me had a gun. The fact that he wasn’t pointing it directly at me made not a ha’porth of difference—not while he gripped my arm and the man on the other side held me in a hammer-lock.

They pushed me along the deck until we were amidships and then there was a noise like a dud firecracker and the man with a gun gave a yelp and dropped it on to the deck. He stopped and looked at the blood oozing from the hole in the back of his hand, and let go of me. I’d heard that dud firecracker go off before.

I heard it go off again and saw a brief flash of light from the top of the deckhouse. The seaman who had me in the hammer-lock stumbled slightly and his grip loosened. He went down in apparent slow motion and I saw there was a dark red spot in the middle of his forehead.

‘Jump, you damned fool,’ yelled Alison, and I went over the side in an inelegant dive, arms and legs going every which way. I landed in the water with a hell of a splash and heard, two seconds later, another neater and more ladylike splash as Alison joined me.

I wasted no time in getting under the surface and swam in a circle searching for her. My hand touched her leg and she twisted in the water and grabbed my wrist. I pulled, leading her, and we swam deep and under
Artina.
It would be natural for anyone to look for us from the side of the ship
from which we had jumped and I wanted to get away from there.

Matters were complicated by the fact that I was running out of air. Things had happened so fast that I hadn’t had time to prepare myself by taking a good lungful of air, and that wasn’t so good. I didn’t want to come up within shooting distance of the ship. I compromised by coming up for air under
Artina’s
stern, hanging on to her rudder with just my nose and mouth above water. Alison joined me.

I took a few deep breaths and then allowed an ear out of the water. Things were going pop on deck; men ran along the deck in a seemingly confused way and the deep rumble of the skipper’s voice held a note of menace. I prodded Alison under the chin so that her head came out of the water and whispered into her ear. ‘Swim to Ta’Xbiex—under water as far as possible. I’ll meet you at the place we left.’

She wasted no time in answering but sank under water and vanished. I took a last breath and followed her. Normally I like swimming but this was getting to be a bit too much; I like to swim in water I know to be clean. I took it easy, letting the air dribble from my mouth as the strain grew intolerable. When it finally became impossible to stay under any longer I surfaced face upwards, letting only my nose and mouth break the surface.

I cleared my lungs in four breaths and then risked a glance back at
Artina. A
searchlight was probing the water again but not in my direction. As I was about to go under again I heard a roar and ducked under just in time as a fast launch came hurtling in my direction. I struck out strongly to gain depth and the launch passed directly overhead, the disturbance of the wake buffeting me in the water.

Three times I had to surface before I came to the shore or, rather to the long line of yachts moored stern on to the wharf of the Lazzaretto Creek Marina. I came up under the bows of a floating gin palace, puffing and panting in an
attempt to get my breath back, but I soon stopped that when I heard the pad of naked feet on the deck above.

Whoever it was seemed irritable. ‘More uproar—everyone rushin’ about in the middle of the night. What the hell do they think they’re doin’?’

A woman said, ‘I thought I heard fireworks earlier.’

‘Fireworks be damned—they’re tomorrow night. And who the hell lets off fireworks at this time in the mornin’?’