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Authors: Hammond; Innes

The Blue Ice (18 page)

BOOK: The Blue Ice
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‘Nah look 'ere, miss. Oi don't know nuffink aba't it, see. Oi'm just a diver, Oi am. Oi don't want no trouble.'

‘You had trouble tonight, didn't you?' Jill said slowly. ‘Major Wright told me all about it. If it hadn't been for Mr Gansert you might be dead now. You'd have told Captain Lovaas what you know then he might have disposed of you. You owe your life to Mr Gansert and the two others who were with him – Major Wright and Mr Everard. Isn't that so?'

‘Oi 'xpects you're roight, miss,' Sunde answered. His voice sounded hoarse and uncertain. ‘But Oi don't want no trouble, see. There's me partner, too. 'E an' Oi were in it tergevver durin' the war an' Oi ain't never done anyone dirt, see.'

Jill sighed. ‘Listen, Mr Sunde. Nobody will get into trouble. All we want to know is where Schreuder has been taken. We want to find him and talk to him. We want the truth about Farnell's death. That's all. We don't want to turn him over to the authorities. We just want to know what happened. Please – won't you help us?' She took hold of his other hand. ‘Mr Sunde,' she said, and her voice was hardly audible, ‘I loved George Farnell. I want to know how he died. I've a right to know. This man Schreuder could help. Now please – where is he?'

The diver hesitated. His dark face was white with exhaustion. He passed his sound hand across his eyes. ‘Oi dunno. It's all like a ruddy dream, that's wot it is. But Oi ain't tellin' nobody nuffink, see. Not wiva't Oi talk ter me partner first. 'E's the brains of the outfit. Oi'm just a diver. The best ruddy diver in the 'ole of Norway. But it's 'im wot's got the brains. 'E manages the business side, see. I bin wiv 'im ever since 'forty. We was in Oslo when the Germans come in, doin' a bit of salvage work da'n in Pipervika. We went up inter the mountings and joined an army unit wot was farming. But we got smashed up by the Jerries and finds ourselves across the border in Sweden. Well, we starts the great trek – 'cross Sweden and Finland, down into Russia, 'cross Siberia inter China. The British Consul in Hong Kong sent us ter Singapore and from there we went to India where they put us in a ship ba'nd for Clydeside. Me partner – 'e organises the 'ole ruddy trip.' He shook his head and sighed. ‘We bin through a lot, Peer and Oi. And Oi don't do nuffink wiva't Oi consult 'im first. 'E's always tellin' me – Alf, 'e sez, you ain't got the brains of a louse. Only 'e sez it in Norwegian, see.' He grinned. ‘Peer's a great thinker. Reads books like
Altid Amber
– wot 'e calls the classics.'

Jill was leaning forward now and a sudden excitement showed on her face. ‘Alf,' she said. ‘What happened after you and your partner got to England?'

‘Oh, we didn't stay there long, miss. We does a bit o' training up in Scotland and then we're parachuted back inter Norway. Makes yer laugh, don't it – all that trouble ter get a't o' the country – all the way ra'nd the world we goes ter get ter England – an' they goes an' drops us back inter Norway.' He passed his hand across his face again. He was dead beat with weariness. But he couldn't stop talking. He'd reached the stage where he had to talk. ‘But we comes back wiv more than the rucksack we goes a't wiv. They drops a case o' bren guns an' nitroglycerine an' grenades wiv us. Oh, we 'as a fine ol' time. We comes da'n ter Bergen an' starts sabotaging ships. To this ruddy day they thinks the ammoonition ship wot blows up by the ol' Walkendorff Tower is due to carelessness o' German welders.' He giggled. ‘Well, it weren't, see. It was me an' Peer. Blimey, Oi'm a ruddy good diver. Ask anyone in the shippin' business in Bergen. They'll say Alf Sunde – his loaf's all wood, but 'e's the best diver in Norway.'

‘When you were dropped in Norway,' Jill interrupted, trying to conceal her excitement, ‘what unit were you with?'

‘Why, the Norwegian Army, miss.'

‘Yes – but what unit?'

‘Oh, I see – Kompani Linge.'

Jill's eyes lit up. ‘Put it there,' she said holding out her hand. ‘We both worked for the same people.'

‘Wot you, miss – in the Kompani Linge?' Sunde's whole face had lit up too, infected by her enthusiasm.

‘Yes,' she nodded. ‘I was one of their radio operators.'

‘Blimey,' he said, seizing her hand. ‘Oi thought there was somefink familiar aba't your voice. You was one o' the girls wot used ter give us our instructions on the radio.' Again she nodded. ‘Well, knock me fer a row o' little green apples! An' I never met you. Ever meet my mate – Peer Storjohann? Corporal, 'e was.'

Jill shook her head. Then she leaned towards him. ‘Did you know most of the Kompani?'

‘We was trainin' wiv 'em for nearly a year – that was 1941. We knew most of 'em who was in Scotland then.'

‘Did you know Korporal Bernt Olsen?'

‘Bernt Olsen?' Sunde's face froze. ‘Yus – Oi knew Bernt Olsen. Why?'

‘Beret Olsen's real name was George Farnell. It was Bernt Olsen who was killed on the Jostedal. And Schreuder was with him at the time. Now please – please tell me where you have taken Schreuder. You did pick him up this morning, didn't you?'

I shrank back farther into the shadows by the companionway, praying that he would tell her all he knew.

‘Well – yus, miss.' His voice sounded puzzled and uncertain. ‘That is ter say – Look miss – we picks a man up this morning. All roight. But I dunno who 'e is or what 'e is. If yer wants to know more aba't 'im – well, you go an' talk ter Peer. 'E's the one ter tell yer. If Olsen's yer boy friend – well, you go an' talk ter me partner.'

‘Yes, but where will we find your partner?'

‘A-ah.' He rubbed his dark chin. ‘Oi dunno as Oi roightly oughter tell yer that. 'Cos if I told yer that it'd be tellin' where – this man is, wouldn't it now?'

‘But you must,' Jill whispered.

‘Who must?' Sunde banged his hand on the table. ‘Nah look 'ere, miss. Oi ain't never told nobody nuffink, see. I bin in the 'ands of the Gestapo once an' Oi never said nuffink. An' Oi ain't goin' ter talk now, not when a comrade's life may be at stake.'

‘Comrade? How do you mean?' Jill asked.

‘Well, 'e's a comrade, ain't 'e? We was in it tergether.'

‘The man you picked up this morning?' Jill seized hold of Sunde's arm and shook it. ‘I've already told you – he's an Austrian Jew who became a naturalised Norwegian and then worked for the Germans.'

Sunde passed his hand wearily over his face again. ‘You're gettin' me all mixed up,' he said. ‘Oi don't know rightly wot Oi'm sayin'. Fair droppin' wiv tiredness, Oi am. Why don't you let up, miss? Proper third-degree. Let me get some sleep. Then Oi'll be able ter fink clearer.'

‘All right,' Jill said wearily.

I went in then. ‘Hello, Sunde,' I said. ‘How are you feeling? Hand all right?'

‘Not so bad,' he answered. ‘Thanks fer wot you done, Mr Gansert. Proper bastard Lovaas is.'

‘You went to Nordhanger this afternoon?' I said.

He hesitated. ‘
Ja
,' he answered.

‘Had Lovaas been there before you?'

‘Yep. I saw 'im at Bovaagen when 'e come back in the
drosje.
'

‘And then you went out to Nordhanger yourself?'

‘That's roight.'

‘Did Lovaas get anything out of Einar Sandven?'

‘Einar wasn't there.'

‘Where was he?'

‘I ain't sayin' where 'e is.'

‘What about his wife?'

‘She won't say nuffink.'

‘Does she know where Schreuder is being taken?'

‘She might guess. But she wouldn't talk.' He got up and staggered as the table on which he had leaned his weight tilted.

I pushed him back again into his seat. ‘Sit down,' I said. ‘There are still one or two things I want to ask you. What happened this morning – yesterday morning, rather? You heard the catcher go by in the mist. You probably saw it. Then you heard shouts and a few minutes later a man was swimming towards your boats. Were you down below then?'

‘No. I'd come fer a breaver an' a pipe. I'd still got me things on. I was just takin' a little rest.'

‘And what happened? You pulled him on board. But what made you up anchor and clear out so quickly? You must have known the catcher would be searching for the man.'

‘Well, we knew all aba't 'im, see. So as soon as 'e says—' And then he stopped.

‘How do you mean, you knew all about him?' I asked.

‘'Ere, you'll be gettin' me sayin' things.' He got to his feet again. ‘Lumme, give a bloke a chance, can't yer? Oi'm fagged a't an' that's the truth.'

I said, ‘Sit down.'

‘But look 'ere, guvner – just let me—'

‘Shut up,' I said. ‘And listen to me. I want to know where this man Schreuder is. Miss Somers wants to know because she was a friend of Bernt Olsen, otherwise Farnell. She wants to know what happened up there on the Jostedal Glacier. And I want to know – for other reasons. What's more, Sunde, I intend to find out.'

‘Well, yer won't find out from me,' he answered sullenly.

‘Look,' I said angrily, ‘who got you away from Lovaas, eh?'

‘You did,' he responded. ‘Oi already said 'ow grateful—'

‘I don't want your thanks,' I interrupted him. ‘I want information. Can't you see we're your friends? We're not going to hurt Schreuder. We just want to know what happened, that's all.'

Curtis poked his head round the galley door and said, ‘Soup up.'

‘Okay,' I said. ‘Let's have it. Maybe it'll help him to talk.'

But it didn't. For two solid hours I sat there like an intelligence officer examining an enemy prisoner. I tried every approach I knew short of hitting him – and I almost did that once, I got so exasperated. But it had no effect. Every time I came up against a brick wall of – ‘You ask my partner.'

At last I said, ‘Well, where is your partner?'

He gave a wan smile. ‘If I tol' yer that, yer'd know where the other fellow was nah, wouldn't yer?'

‘Then what's the use of telling me to ask your partner?' I demanded irritably.

‘Tell yer what Oi'll do,' he said suddenly. ‘Next place we touch at, you put me ashore an' Oi'll telephone a message ter Peer ter meet you some place. Where you makin' fer?'

‘Fjaerland,' I said.

‘In Sognefjord?'

I nodded.

‘That's easy then,' he said. ‘You'll be off Leirvik in the morning. Put me ashore there an' Oi'll phone me partner an' 'e can meet yer at Fjaerland on ‘is way back.'

‘Back from where?' I asked.

But he smiled and shook his head. ‘Yer won't catch me like that, Mr Gansert. Back from where 'e's been, that's where.'

‘He's taken Schreuder right up to Sognefjord, has he?'

‘Yes. No 'arm in yer knowing that. You put me ashore at Leirvik an' Oi'll phone Peer to meet yer at Fjaerland.'

‘And you'll come on to Fjaerland with us?'

‘Okay,' he said. ‘Then me an' me outfit can come back together.'

With that I had to be content. At least I had some idea where Schreuder had gone. I let him go to his bunk. He had all the obstinacy of the Cockney driven into a corner. Maybe we could have handled him better. Perhaps if I'd left it to Jill. ‘There can't be so many places right up the Sognefjord,' I said to her. ‘If this damned partner of his doesn't turn up, we'll make inquiries at every quay in the fjord.'

‘That'll take us some time,' she said.

‘Anyway, they probably didn't touch at any of the landing stages,' Curtis said. ‘They probably slipped him in at night on a deserted stretch of the shore.'

‘Probably,' I said. ‘If only we could make the little diver fellow tell us what he knows.'

Jill pressed my hand. ‘Don't worry about it,' she said. ‘I'll have another session with him in the morning.'

Curtis got to his feet and stretched. ‘By God, I'm sleepy,' he said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Think I'll make some coffee.'

At that moment Dick's voice hailed us. ‘There's a breeze springing up, skipper,' he called down. ‘What about setting some sail?'

I remembered then that I had forgotten all about relieving him. ‘Coming,' I called back. ‘Curtis. Give Wilson a shout, will you. We'll be getting sail on her.'

Jill caught my arm as I turned towards the companionway. ‘Thanks for what you did today,' she said. She was smiling. Her lips were very red against the pallor of her skin. ‘It made me feel I wasn't alone any more – that I had good friends.'

‘I didn't do anything,' I said and turned away from her quickly. But as I climbed the ladder to the deck I realised again how much more important this was to her than to me – how much more important emotion was than the hard financial gain of the thing.

I felt the breeze as soon as I poked my head out through the hatch. It was icy cold and refreshing. ‘Sorry, Dick,' I said. ‘Losing my grip. Completely forgot you hadn't been relieved.'

‘It's all right,' he answered. The moon had disappeared behind cloud and he was just a dark bundle of duffel coat humped over the wheel and outlined against the slight phosphorescence of our wake. ‘I came to remind you once, but I could hear you grilling the poor devil, so I left you to it. What luck?'

‘He won't talk without his partner's there,' I answered angrily. ‘He's phoning him in the morning.'

The others came up then and we hoisted sail. Hellesöy light was already astern, the black bulk of Fedje Island standing in silhouette against the swinging beam. On the starb'd bow another light winked. ‘Utvaer Fyr?' Jill asked.

BOOK: The Blue Ice
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