When eight bells toll (29 page)

"You will come aboard our boat one at a time,"  I said. "In this situation, Captain Imrie, you are without question the most dangerous man. After you, Lavorski, then-----"

"Please keep very still. Terribly still."  The voice behind me was totally lacking in inflection, hut the gun pressed hard against my spine carried its own message, one not easily misunderstood. "Good. Take a pace forward and take your right hand away from the gun."

I took a pace forward and removed my right hand. This left me holding the machine-pistol by the barrel.

"Lay the gun on the deck."

It obviously wasn't going to be much use to me as a club, so I laid it on the deck, I'd been caught like this before, once or twice, and just to show that I was a true professional I raised my hands high and turned slowly round.

"Why, Charlotte Skouras!"  I said. Again I knew what to do, how to act, the correct .tone for die circumvented agent, bantering but bitter. "Fancy meeting you here. Thank you very much my dear. "She was still dressed in the dark sweater and slacks, only they weren't quite as spruce as thelast time I'd seen them. They were soaking wet. Her face was dead white and without expression. The brown eyes were very still. "And how in God's name did you get here?"

"I escaped through the bedroom window and swam out. I hid in the after cabin."

"Did you indeed? Why don't you change out of those wet clothes?"

She ignored me. She said to Hutchinson:
"Turn off .that searchlight."

"Do as the lady says,"  I advised.

He did as the lady said. The light went out and we were all now in full view of the men ashore. Imrie said; "Throw that gun over the side, Admiral."

"Do as the gentleman says, "I advised.

Uncle Arthur threw the gun over the side. Captain Imrie and Lavorski came walking confidently towards us. They could afford to walk confidently, the .three men in the hold, the two men who had suddenly appeared from behind the diving-boat's wheelhouse and the winch-driver - a nice round total of six — had suddenly sprouted guns. I looked over this show of armed strength and said slowly: "You were waiting for us."

"Certainly we were waking for you,"  Lavorski said jovially. "Our dear Charlotte announced the exact rime of your arrival. Haven't you guessed that yet, Calvert?"

"How do you know my name?"

"Charlotte, you fool. By heavens, I believe we have been grievously guilty of over-estimating you."

"Mrs. Skouras was a plant,"  I said.

"A bait,"  Lavorski said cheerfully. I wasn't fooled by his cheerfulness, he'd have gone into hysterics of laughter when I came apart on the rack. "Swallowed hook, line, and sinker. A bait with a highly effective if tiny transmitter and a gun in a polythene bag. We found the transmitter in your starboard engine."  He laughed again until he seemed in danger of going into convulsions. "We've known of every move you've made since you left Torbay. And how do you like that, Mr, Secret Agent Calvert?"

"I don't like it at all.  What are you going to do with us?"

"Don't be childish. What are you going to do with us, asks he naively. I'm afraid you know all too well. How did you locate this place?"

"I don't talk to executioners."

"I think we'll shoot .the admiral through the foot, to begin with,"  Lavorski beamed. "A minute afterwards through the aim, then the thigh——"

"Ail right. We had a radio-transmitter aboard the
Nantesville."

"
We know that.   How did you pin-point Dubh Sgeir?"

"The boat belonging to the Oxford geological expedition. It is moored fore and aft in a little natural harbour south of here. It's well clear of any rock yet it's badly holed. It's impossible that it would be holed naturally where it lay. It was holed unnaturally, shall we say. Any other boat you could have seen coming from a long way off, but that boat had only to move out to be in full sight of the boathouse - and the anchored diving-boat. It was very clumsy."

Lavorski looked at Imrie, who nodded. "He would notice that. I advised against it at the time. Was there more, Calvert?"

"Donald MacEachern on Eilean Oran. You should have taken him, not his wife. Susan Kirkside - you shouldn't have allowed her out and about, when did you. last see a fit young .twenty-one-year-old with blue shadows that size under her eyes? A fit young twenty-one-year-old with nothing in the world to worry about, that is? And you should have disguised that mark made by the tail fuselage of the Beechcraft belonging to Lord Kirkside's elder son when you ran it over the edge of the north cliff. I saw it from the helicopter."

"That's all?"  Lavorski asked. I nodded, and he looked again at Imrie.

"I believe him,"  Imrie said. "No one talked. That's all we need to know. Calvert first, Mr. Lavorski?"  They were certainly a brisk and business-like outfit.

I said quickly: "Two questions. The courtesy of two answers. I'm a professional. I'd like to know. I don't know if you understand."

"And two minutes,"  Lavorski smiled. "Make it quick. We have business on hand."

"Where is Sir Anthony Skouras?   He should be here."

"He is. He's up in the castle with Lord Kirkside and Lord Charnley. The
Shangri-la's
tied up at the west landing stage."

"Is it true that you and Dollnann engineered the whole plan, that you bribed Charnley to betray insurance secrets, that you - or Dollmann, rather selected Captain Imrie to pick his crew of cut-throats, and that you were responsible for the capture and sinking of the ships and the subsequent salvaging of the cargoes. And, incidentally, the deaths, directly or indirectly, of our men?"

"It's late in the day to deny the obvious."  Again Lavorski's booming laugh. "We think we did rather well, eh, John?"

"Very well indeed,"  Dollmann said coldly. "We're wasting time."

I turned to Charlotte Skouras. The gun was still pointing at me. I said: "I have to be killed, it seems. As you will be responsible for my death, you might as well finish the job. "I reached down, caught the hand with the gun in it and placed it against my chest, letting my
own hand fall away. "Please do it quickly."

There was no sound to be heard other than the soft throb of the
Firecrest's
diesel. Every pair of eyes in that boatshed was on us, my back was to them all, but I knew it beyond any question. I wanted every pair of eyes in that boatshed on us. Uncle Arthur took a step inside the starboard door and said urgently: "Are you mad, Calvert? She'll kill you! She's one of them."

The brown eyes were stricken, there was no other expression for h, the eyes of one who knows her world is coming to an end. The finger came off the trigger, the hand opened slowly and the gun fell to the deck with a clatter that seemed to echo through the boatshed and the tunnels leading off on either side. I took her left arm and said: "It seems Mrs. Skouras dosn't feel quite up to it. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to—-"

Charlotte Skouras cried out in sharp pain as her legs caught the wheelhouae sill and maybe I did shove her through that doorway with unnecessary force, but it was too late in the day to take chances now. Hutchinson had been waiting and caught her as she fell, dropping to his knees at the same time, I went through that door after her like an international rugby three-quarter diving for the line with a dozen hands reaching out for him, but even so Uncle Arthur beat me to it. Uncle Arthur had a lively sense of self-preservation. Even as I fell, my hand reached out for the loudhailer that had been placed in position on the wheelhouse deck.

"Don't fire!"  The amplified voice boomed cavernously against the rock-faces and the wooden walls of the boatshed. "If you shoot, you'll die! One shot, and you may all die.

There's a machine-gun lined up on the back of every man in this boathouse. Just turn round, very very slowly, and sec for yourselves."

I half rose to my feet, hoisted a wary eye over the lower edge of a wheelhouse window, got the rest of the way to my feet, went outside and picked up the machine-gun on the deck.

Picking up that machine-gun was the most superfluous and unnecessary action I had performed for many a long day. If there was one thing that boathouse was suffering from at the moment it was a plethora of machine-guns. There were twelve of them in all, shoulder-slung machine-pistols, in twelve of the most remarkably steady pairs of hands Pd ever seen. The twelve men were ranged in a rough semicircle round the inner end of the boathouse, big, quiet, purposeful-looking men dressed in woollen caps, grey-and-black camouflaged smocks and trousers and rubber boots. Their hands and faces were the colour of coal. Their eyes gleamed whitely, like performers in the Black and White Minstrel show, but with that every hint of light entertainment ended.

"Lower your hands to your sides and let your guns fall."  The order came from a figure in the middle of the group, a man indistinguishable from the others. "Do please be very careful. Slowly down, drop the guns, utter stillness. My men are very highly trained commandos. They have been trained to shoot on suspicion. They know only how to kill. They have not been trained to wound or cripple."

They believed him. I believed him, They dropped their guns and stood very still indeed.

"Now clasp your hands behind your necks,"

They did. All but one. Lavorski. He wasn't smiling any more and his language had little to recommend it.

That they were highly trained I could believe. No word or signal passed. The commando nearest Lavorski walked towards him on soundless soles, machine-pistol across his chest. The butt seemed to move no more than three inches. When Lavorski picked himself up the lower part of his face was covered in blood and I could see the hole where tome teeth had been. He clasped his hands behind his neck.

"Mr. Culvert?"  the officer asked.

"Me," I said.

"Captain Rawley, sir.  Royal Marine Commandos."

"The castle, Captain?"

"In our hands."

"The

"In our hands."

"The prisoners?"

"Two men are on .their way up, afr."

I said to Imrie:   "Haw
many guards?"

He spat and said nothing. The commando who had dealt with Lavorski moved forward, machine-pistol high. Imrie said: "Two."

I said to Rawley:   "Two men enough?"

"I hope, sir, that the guards will not be so foolish as to offer resistance."

Even as he finished speaking the flat rapid-fire chatter of a sub-machine-gun came echoing down the long flight of stone steps. Rawley shrugged.

"They'll never learn to be wise now. Robinson?"  This to a man with a waterproof bag over his shoulder. "Go up and open the cellar door. Sergeant Evans, line them up in two rows against the wall there, one standing, one sitting."

Sergeant Evans did. Now that there was no danger of being caught in cross-fire we landed and I introduced Uncle Arthur, full military honours and all, to Captain Rawley. Captain Rawley's salute was something to see. Uncle Arthur beamed. Uncle Arthur took over.

"Capitally done, my boy!"  he said to Rawley. "Capitally. There'll be a little something for you in this New Year's List Ah! Here come some friends."

They weren't all exactly friends, this group that appeared at the bottom of the steps. There were four tough but dispirited looking characters whom IM never seen before, but unquestionably tunic's men, closely followed by Sir Anthony Skouras and Lord Charnley. They, in their turn, were closely followed by four commandos with the very steady hands that were a hallmark of Rawley's men. Behind them came Lord Kirkside and his daughter. It was impossible to tell what the black-faced commandos were thinking, but the other eight had the same expression on
their faces, dazed and utter bewilderment.

"My dear Kirkside! My dear fellow!"  Uncle Arthur hurried forward and shook him by the hand, I'd quite forgotten that they knew one another. "Delighted to see you safe and sound, my dear chap. Absolutely delighted. It's all over now."

"What in God's name is happening?"  Lord Kirkside asked. "You - you've got them?   You have them all?  Where is my boy?   Where is Rollinson?   What-----?"

An explosive crack, curiously muffled, came down the Sight of steps. Uncle Arthur looked at Rawley, who nodded. "Plastic explosive, sir."

"Excellent, excellent,"  Uncle Arthur beamed. "You'll see them any minute, Kirkside."  He crossed over to where old Skouras was lined up against the wall, hands clasped behind his neck, reached up both his own, pulled Skouras's arms down and shook his right hand as if he were attempting to tear it off.

"You're lined up with the wrong team, Tony, my boy."  This was one of the great moments of Uncle Arthur's life. He led him across to where Lord Kirkside was standing. "It's been a frightful nightmare, my boy, a frightful nightmare, But it's all over now."

"Why did you do it?"  Skouras said dully. "Why did you do it? God, oh God, you don't know what you've done."

"Mrs. Skouras? The
reed
Mrs. Skouras?"  There is the ham actor in all of us, but more than most in Uncle Arthur, He pushed back his sleeve and studied his watch carefully. "She arrived in London by air from Nice just over three hours ago. She is in the London Clinic,"

"What in God's name do you mean? You don't know what you are saying. My wife——"

"Your wife is in London. Charlotte here is Charlotte Meiner and always was."  I looked at Charlotte. A total incomprehension and the tentative beginnings of a dazed hope. "Earlier this year, blazing the trail for many kidnappings that were to follow, your friends Lavorski and Dollmann had your wife seized and hidden away to force you to act with them, to put your resources at their disposal. I think they felt aggrieved, Tony, that you should be a millionaire while they were executives : they had it all worked out, even to having the effrontery of intending to invest the proceeds in your empire. However. Your wife managed to escape, so they seized her cousin and best friend, Charlotte - a friend upon whom, shall we say, your wife was emotionally very dependent - and threatened to kill her unless they got Mrs. Skouras back again. Mrs. Skouras surrendered immediately. This gave them the bright idea of having two swords of Damocles hanging over your head, so, being men of honour, they decided to keep Charlotte as well as your imprisoned wife. Then, they knew, you woulddo exactly as they wanted, when and as they wanted. To have a good excuse to keep both you and Charlotte under their surveillance at the same time, and to reinforce the idea that your wife was well and truly dead, they gave out that you had been secretly married."  Uncle Arthur was a kind man: no mention of the fact that h was common knowledge that, at the time of her alleged death, brain injuries sustained by Mrs, Skouras in a car crash two years previously had become steadily worse and it was known that she would never leave hospital again.