Hydrofoil Mystery (20 page)

I heard thundering feet climbing the steps to the upstairs rooms. Then I saw a light come on under the door to the dining room. I had only seconds before they'd come into the room. After kicking off my shoes, I unbuttoned my blood-stained shirt, threw it down, and with my foot I pushed it under the table until it was hidden by the long tablecloth.

I grabbed the handle to the refrigerator and flung it open. I snatched a chicken leg and took a big bite just as the door to the kitchen was kicked in. A man dressed in
black, holding a rifle, burst into the room. I stifled a scream and flung my hands up into the air.

“What do you want?” I yelled.

He ran across the room, his rifle leading the way, and shoved the barrel into my stomach.

“
Schnell, schnell!
” he yelled.

He grabbed me by the arm and I dropped the piece of chicken to the floor. He flung me toward the door to the dining room. I staggered, regained my balance and then was almost knocked down again as he thrust the barrel of the rifle into my back. A second man appeared, also dressed in black and carrying a rifle. He held the door open and I was pushed through the dining room and into the main entranceway. There were two men standing there, and I could hear others running around the house. I was gripped with fear, and the only thing keeping me together at all was the firm belief that none of this could be real. I closed my eyes and prayed the others had gotten away … and that I'd live to find out.

A hand gripped my face and my eyes popped open. I was staring into the eyes of a tall, imposing man standing only inches in front of me.

“Hello, William,” he said, and I recognized the voice. He was the man from the arbour. The man who had killed Simon. He let go of my face. He was smiling. I looked down and saw his boots. They weren't as shiny as before. They were covered with dust from the path.

“You must be wondering how I know who you are,” he told me.

I nodded my head. I was so afraid I didn't know if I could talk.

“I know many things. Many things indeed. You have caused me great trouble and inconvenience.”

I wanted to say something, but my tongue felt so thick and swollen I didn't know if any words could be forced out of my throat.

Within thirty seconds a half dozen men showed up, coming from all different parts of the house. A few words were exchanged in German. There were now ten of them. It was clear that the man standing before me, the man who had killed Simon, was the leader.

He turned his attention back to me. “Where is Mr. Bell?” he demanded loudly.

“He's … he's not here … he's gone away for the night … nobody's here … but me,” I stammered.

“Which room is his?” he yelled.

“It's at the … at the top of the stairs,” I answered, directing him to the special guest room, the fanciest bedroom in the house.

He barked out a few words and two of the men ran up the stairs. They kicked in the door, but of course, reappeared almost instantly. They yelled something that I didn't understand.

He sneered and then withdrew a pistol from his holster. He raised it to my head.

“I do not believe you,” he said quietly. “Tell me where he is or you shall die.”

My head froze.

I heard the hammer of the gun cock. “Tell me now.” He said the words softly, almost in a whisper. There was a wild look in his eyes, and I wondered if he wanted me to talk or just an excuse to kill me too.

“I … I told you … he's gone … they went away for the weekend … please believe me. Can't you tell his bed hasn't even been slept in?” I pleaded.

“Not been slept in?” He turned around and yelled out something.

“
Nein, nein
,” came the response from one of the men at the top of the steps.

He chuckled, the way he'd chuckled before sticking the knife into Simon. I wanted to yell out or run or fight or something, but I knew it was pointless. I was going to die, but at least I wouldn't die without a reason.

“Now I believe you. Few people lie with a gun to their heads. How old are you, William?”

“What?” I croaked.

“How old are you?”

“I'm fifteen.”

“Fifteen? And in what month is your birthday?

When do you become sixteen?” he asked in his stilted English.

“March, March the third.”

“One of my favourite months. The winter is receding and the flowers are just starting to emerge. March is a beautiful month in Germany. I don't imagine you've ever been to Germany, have you, William?”

“No.”

“Too many of your countrymen are trying to see more of Germany than we would like. You know, William, for all the trouble you have caused me, you deserve a bullet in the head.”

With all my strength I fought the urge to call out or break into tears or crumple to the floor. Then, with the
little bit of power left in my body, I raised my eyes from the ground and looked him square in the eyes. I wanted to see the man who was going to kill me.

“And if this was March the third instead of August, I would kill you. We Germans are civilized people. We do not kill innocent women and children.” He removed his pistol from my head and held it at his side.

Without my realizing it, a snicker fell from my lips. “Something I said was funny?” he asked. “Perhaps you do not think we are civilized. Do not believe all the things you read in the newspapers. We are not butchers of innocents.”

“Unless they're aboard ships!” I suddenly blurted out. I couldn't understand where these words were coming from. I'd won the bluff, and my life with it, and now I was on the verge of throwing it all away.

“What did you say?” he asked angrily.

“Sneaking up on ships with submarines and killing innocent men and women and children with torpedoes! My father is a sailor!”

“Ah, so that is why this is so personal for you. Now I understand,” he said, nodding his head.

“And I hope you understand that I was able to help with the
HD
-4! Once it gets out there it'll blow your U-boats right out of the water!”

He snarled at me and then barked out an order.

Instantly my arms were grabbed by two of the men.

“I do not know whether you are brave or a fool. But I do know one thing for certain. While we failed to get Bell, the hydrofoil will be destroyed, tonight, in the next few minutes.”

“Hah!” I snapped. I knew my speech had cost me my life, so what did I have to lose? “The guards will cut you down the instant you try to get anywhere near the boathouse!”

“You are correct, and that is why we are not going to get close to the boathouse.”

A chair was thrust under me and I was pushed down into in. Rope was coiled around my hands and legs. A gag was forced into my mouth and tied behind my head. I willingly accepted the ropes because I knew what it meant: I was going to be left to live. You don't tie up a dead man.

“Do you know much about submarines, William?”

I shook my head. Even if I'd tried, the gag would have prevented me from talking. I was almost grateful because being gagged would stop me from saying anything else to ignite his temper.

“I thought not. My submarine, yes, I am one of those cowardly submarine captains you speak of, has a cannon mounted on the front deck. When the craft surfaces, that gun is surprisingly accurate to a range of one mile. I will bring my boat to a point just off the shore of the boathouse and open fire. I will fire until all that remains is a crater where the hydrofoil now rests. I preferred a simpler approach, but now I am left with no choice. I will not fail in my mission.”

He yelled out another order and all of the men filed out of the room, leaving just the two of us alone. He bent down close to my ear.

“You will live and probably have a very long life. What I want you to remember, remember always, is that
it was
you
who failed. You failed to protect the hydrofoil and even more, you stood before a man who might very well be the captain of the vessel that will kill your father some day, and you were unable to stop him. You failed. Goodbye.”

He tapped my cheek with his hand, smiled wickedly and then left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Maybe I'd failed in some things, but I'd succeeded in keeping them from getting to Mr. Bell. Even if they destroyed the
HD
-4, we could always build another one, and …

My thoughts were cut off by a blood-curdling scream punctuated by rapid gunshots. I strained against the ropes and a cry tried to force its way past the gag. Had they got Mr. and Mrs. Bell and Mrs. McCauley-Brown? I surged forward, pushing my toes against the floor. The chair tipped and I toppled over, crashing heavily, face first into the floor. I heard rapid footfalls, like those made by military boots hitting the wooden floors, the sound of the door slamming and then nothing.

Chapter Nineteen

T
HOSE SCREAMS—THEY
had to have come from the Bells and Mrs. McCauley-Brown! If they weren't already dead, they'd be bleeding to death, and I was helpless. I struggled and thrashed but the ropes held firm and dug painfully into my skin. I started to cry. They were the first tears I'd shed in a long time.

“William!” cried out a voice.

My eyes popped open. It was Mr. Bell! He was alive! “William, where are you, lad? Where are you?” he screamed.

I called out, but my muffled voice didn't reach beyond the entranceway.

“William are you …?” Mr. Bell rushed in and saw me. “He's here, he's here!”

He grabbed the chair and effortlessly lifted it onto its feet. Mrs. Bell and Mrs. McCauley-Brown came running from two different directions. They both threw their arms around me.

“Ladies, give me some space so we can untie the lad.” They backed away as he struggled with the gag.

“Mabel, go to the front door and make sure those men are still moving away. Mrs. McCauley-Brown, please go and telephone the authorities.”
The two ladies leapt into action while Mr. Bell pulled the gag from my mouth. Small pieces of fibre stuck to my tongue.

“I thought you were dead … the gunshots,” I stammered. He quickly started to work on freeing my hands. “We thought it was you who was dead. I couldn't have lived with that. I never should have put you at risk. I wanted to come out of hiding and give myself up but the women convinced me to stay. They said to have faith … faith that you could play poker with them and bluff your way. And you did it, William, you did it! I need to untie you so I can shake your hand!”

Mrs. McCauley-Brown reappeared. “The telephone is dead!”

“The lines were probably cut. That would never happen with messages transmitted through a beam of light. I have to begin work on that immediately after—”

“We have to get to the
HD
-4!” I blurted out. “Certainly they won't attack the fortifications, and even if they do, what good would the four of us be?” Mr. Bell asked.

“They're going to attack it from the water. They're going to use the cannon on the submarine.”

“Submarine? They have a submarine! We have to get down there and warn the soldiers. Maybe they have some weaponry to fight against it!” Mr. Bell announced. “Mrs. McCauley-Brown, help free William's legs.”

Mrs. Bell reappeared in the doorway. In her hands was a mass of black. At first I couldn't make it out, and then the shape came into focus. It was Bruno's head!

“I think the sounds you all heard were made by one of those men accidentally stumbling into Bruno. His head has been cut off by gunfire … the wall behind him is pocked with bullet holes.”

I pictured that evil man bumping into Bruno and for just an instant feeling the same fear I'd felt that dark night when I'd first been “introduced” to the bear, that same fear I'd felt tonight facing him. I started snickering, and the snicker became a laugh, and the laugh grew until I felt tears of a different kind leaking out of the corners of my eyes. I hoped Bruno had scared him so good he'd wet
his
pants too, and the pee had run down into his shining boots!

“Are you all right, lad?” Mr. Bell asked in alarm. I nodded. “We have to get going.”

T
HE CAR SKIDDED AND SWERVED
along the path leading up to the boathouse. We'd narrowly missed a tree and flattened down some bushes as we hurtled down the narrow downhill stretch. The engine roared and the gears ground noisily as Mr. Bell worked to gather more speed. I'd never driven with him before, and I was beginning to think his driving was a greater threat to my life than anything I'd faced tonight. Of course, it didn't help that he was driving with the lights out to avoid alerting any observers on the lake.

“We can't help if we die in a car crash!” I yelled out. “Hah! Don't be afraid of a little speed, William,” he replied, turning to me.

“Look out!” I screamed as we veered slightly off the path and through a series of bushes. The decapitated tops
bounced off the windscreen and over the top of the car before we hit the path again.

“Maybe I could ease up just a little,” Mr. Bell said quietly.

The path levelled out and opened into the meadow. We crossed the opening in seconds and were there at the boathouse. Mr. Bell slammed on the brakes, sending the car in a side spin toward the building. I clutched the seat with both hands, hanging on for dear life. It looked as though we weren't going to drive
to
the boathouse, we were going
through
it! Maybe we'd save the Germans the work of destroying the
HD
-4 by doing it ourselves!

We came to a hard stop and were overtaken by a cloud of dust and dirt that swirled in through the open windows. Out the driver's side of the vehicle I could see what had stopped us—the sandbag barricade of the building! Just as I'd regained my senses, a rifle punched through the cloud of dust. They hadn't gone back to the submarine like he'd said! He'd tricked me, and now they were here and we were their prisoners! I'd led Mr. Bell into a trap!