The Blue Ice (17 page)

There were shouts from the wharf. I heard Dick's voice giving orders to the hands. Then footsteps moved on the deck over our heads. A moment later the engine started. I dived up the companionway. The sun had set. In the cold, dead light of aproaching darkness the factory buildings loomed very black above the packing sheds. ‘Lovaas heard all right,' Dick said. ‘He's up there on the bridge, watching us.'

I looked up at the tall bow of
Hval Ti.
I could just see the outline of the bridge. Lovaas was standing with legs straddled on the catwalk. Dick tapped my arm. ‘Here's Curtis,' he said.

I turned. ‘Well?' I asked as he came aft to the cockpit.

‘You're gambling on a pretty safe bet,' he said. ‘I had a word with an electrician who lives in the steward's quarters. He says there are normally two boats in that inlet. They belong to the station. This afternoon, just after
middag
, he saw Sunde rowing one of them down the cut. He hasn't returned yet.'

‘Is he expected back?' I asked.

‘Yes. All his things are here. Besides, he's a stranger in Bovaagen. The electrician johnny says there'd be no reason for him to stay there the night.'

‘Good.' I turned to Wilson. ‘Let go fore and aft,' I ordered him. ‘Dick. You and Curtis clear the mains'l cover. Up on peak and throat as soon as you're ready.' I picked up the speaking tube. ‘Half ahead,' I told Carter as the last of the warps thudded on to the deck.

As we slid past
Hval Ti
, Lovaas leaned over the rail of the catwalk and hailed me. ‘Where do you go, Mr Gansert?' he asked.

‘Fjaerland,' I replied. ‘You'll find me there if you have anything to tell me.'

‘Okay.
Pa gjensyn!
' He raised his hand.

The mains'l cover was off now and they were at the halyards. As the grey shadow of the catcher merged into the darkness astern of us, the gaff rose through the topping lifts. A moment later the mains'l was a great splash of white, catching the navigation lights and fading into the blackness above us. Behind us, the lights of the two catchers shone like a village against the dark shape of the factory. As we went out through the islands, we set jib and mizzen. Then I put the wheel over and we swung away to starb'd. The lights of the catchers vanished behind the islands. By the time we reached the inlet leading to the cutting, all the sails were stowed again.

The tide was slackening as we glided slowly into the cut. At the first convenient spot I got a rope ashore and moored up, for I was scared of submerged rocks.
Diviner
swung slowly with the in-running tide until she lay snug against sheer rocks, chafing gently at her fenders. We found a way ashore and explored a route along the edge of the cutting to the bridge. My plan was to catch Sunde at the bridge after he had moored his boat.

It was very dark and silent among the rocks. We reached the bridge and stood there listening to the gurgle of the water as it ran through the cut to some basin further inland.

‘Suppose he lands at the quay?' Jill said.

‘I don't think he'll do that,' Curtis answered.

‘No,' I agreed. ‘He'll want to steer clear of Lovaas.'

‘For that reason he may stay in Bovaagen,' Dick suggested.

‘It's possible,' I replied. ‘But he's no reason to suspect Lovaas would go to such lengths.'

Curtis laughed. ‘It'd be funny if Lovaas had the same idea as us.'

‘If so,' I said, ‘he'd be more likely to pick him up on the station.'

‘Maybe,' Curtis acknowledged. ‘Still—' He caught my arm. ‘What's that?'

I listened. But I could hear nothing beyond the gurgle of the water under the bridge.

‘I thought I heard somebody call – up towards the factory.'

‘Probably one of the staff,' I said. ‘It's early yet.'

We stood there for some time, listening to the sound of the tide among the rocks. But we heard nothing more. We returned to the ship then and had food whilst Wilson and Carter kept watch.

Shortly after eleven, Dick, Curtis and I went ashore. We were wearing rubber shoes and dark clothes. The moon was beginning to rise and a faint light illuminated the sky. We settled ourselves behind a broken jumble of rocks near the bridge. There was no sound from the cutting now. The tide was at the high and the water slack. It began to get cold. The light in the sky steadily whitened. Soon we could see the bridge and the dark shadow of the cut.

Suddenly, away to my left, I caught the creak of oars. ‘Did you hear it?' Dick whispered. ‘He's coming up the cut.'

I nodded.

A loose stone rattled down against the rocks away to our right. I barely noticed it. I was listening to the creak of the oars, peering through the opaque uncertainty of the light to where I knew the inlet was. But I could see nothing – only the vague shape of rock and water. The creaking of the oars ceased. Silence for a moment; then the jar of a boat against rock. There was the clatter of oars being shipped and then, after a pause, the sound of boots coming towards us across the rock on the other side of the cutting.

‘There he is,' Dick whispered in my ear. As he spoke I caught sight of a human figure moving towards the bridge. His boots slithered on the rock. The hard sound of his footsteps became hollow as he stepped on to the plankings of the bridge. It was Sunde all right. I could recognise him now. ‘Soon as he's across the bridge,' I whispered to the other two. I tensed, ready to dart forward and grab the man.

And in that instant, a sharp command was given in Norwegian. Sunde stopped. He hesitated, as though meditating flight. The voice spoke again. It was a strong, commanding voice. Then two figures emerged from the shadow of some rocks away to our right. In the pale light of the still unrisen moon I recognised the squat bulk of Lovaas. He held a gun in his hand. With him was his mate, Halvorsen.

Sunde began to reason with him. Lovaas cut him short. I heard a name that sounded like Max Baker mentioned, and Lovaas laughed. The two men closed in on the diver. And then, one on either side, they marched him away to the whaling station.

I waited till their shadowy forms had vanished over a crest of rock. ‘Quick!' I said. ‘We must get between them and the ship.'

‘The factory,' Curtis whispered. ‘It's the only place where we can surprise them.'

We struck away to the right then, making a wide detour and running hard. As far as possible we kept to gullies in the rock. Our rubber shoes made no sound. We reached the wire surround that kept the starving island sheep from getting into the factory and entered by one of the gates. I paused in the shadow of the office block and looked back. The sky was getting lighter. The moon's tip was edging up over the black outline of the hills. I could just make out three shadowy figures moving towards us across the bare rock.

We went down the cinder track towards the flensing deck. By the boiler house we stopped. The path was narrow here with buildings on either side. Dick and I slipped into the warm darkness of the boiler-room. Curtis stationed himself in a doorway opposite. We agreed a signal for action and waited.

We could hear the sound of their feet on the rock. But they didn't enter by the gate we had used. They kept outside the wire, moving along behind the factory. Curtis slipped out from his hiding-place. ‘There's another gate,' he whispered. ‘I saw it this afternoon when Kielland was showing us round. It's at the back of the factory. And there's a door leading into the place where the oil vats are.'

‘Then we'll have to get them inside the factory,' I said. ‘We must stop them getting to the catcher.'

We ran down the cinder track and across the greasy surface of the flensing deck. The moonlight was quite bright now. By comparison the inside of the factory was very dark. One solitary light glowed at the far end. It showed the shadowy shapes of oil vats rising to the roof. I moved cautiously forward and almost immediately stumbled into a thick, evil-smelling mass. It was a pile of waste from the vats, still warm like a dung hill. The place was silent, yet full of the sound of escaping steam. The steady hiss of it seemed as much a part of the building as the heavy warmth and the smell. The sound of the steam was all round us like a singing in the ears. And through it came a faint bubbling sound. It was boiling oil trickling down the gutterings between the vats.

Curtis gripped my arm. On the other side of the building a rectangle of pale moonlight showed the doorway that he had remembered. For a moment it was blocked by shadows. Then it was clear again. Something fell with a crash of iron and there was a muttered curse in Norwegian. Then a torch was shone on the floor. ‘You take Lovaas,' I told Curtis. ‘Dick. You get the other fellow. I'll look after Sunde.'

We closed on them from behind. It would have been easy if Dick hadn't stumbled against something. There was a clatter. Then the torch swung on to us. I saw Curtis go forward in a diving tackle. The torch spun across the floor. There was a thud of bone on bone as Dick hit out. And then everything was a wild jumble of curses and blows. ‘Sunde,' I called. ‘Quick. The yacht is down in the cutting.' He must have heard me, for I saw his small figure dive for the doorway. Curtis and Dick called to each other. Then we were all through the door and running for all we were worth across the open rock. Sunde was ahead of us, clearly visible in the moonlight. His boots slithered on the smooth rock. We quickly overhauled him.

Behind us came a shout. I glanced over my shoulder. The corrugated iron of the factory was quite white in the moonlight. Lovaas was following us. A stab of orange flame was followed by the whine of a bullet. He was firing as he ran.

We topped a rise and saw
Diviner
's masts. I shouted for them to get the engine started. My breath was coming in great sobs. I was badly out of training. The engine burst into life as we scrambled down the rocks into the cutting. Jill waved to us from the cockpit. Wilson was holding the boat against the outgoing tide on the after warp. ‘Let go,' I told him as we reached the deck. Instantly the tide dragged her clear of the rocks.

Jill caught my arm. ‘Thank God you're all right, Bill,' she said. ‘Was there shooting?'

‘Yes. Lovaas.' I called to Carter for full speed and took the wheel. Sunde looked all in. His face was pale. ‘Get him below,' I told Curtis. ‘And have Jill see to that hand of his.' Sunde had a nasty cut across the knuckles. ‘You all right, Dick?'

‘Fine,' he replied.

I looked back. Two lines of ripples stretched diagonally across the inlet, marking our progress. A figure appeared on the rock under which we had moored. It was Lovaas. He stood watching us for a moment, quite still and silent. Then he turned and went back towards the factory.

‘Take over, will you, Dick,' I said. ‘I want to have a talk with Sunde.'

‘Where shall I head for, skipper?'

‘Sognefjord,' I answered. ‘We're going to Fjaerland.'

CHAPTER SIX

HERE LIES THE BODY

Before going below to interview Sunde, I went into the chartroom and worked out our course. There was a good deal of cloud about and I wanted to avoid any islands until we opened the entrance to Sognefjord. ‘Is the log out?' I called to Dick.

‘No,' he answered. ‘Shall I stream it?'

‘Please.' I had little tidal information and it was difficult to work out any allowances for drift. But the course we were sailing was marked by two lights and we should have to work on these. I drew in the lines of our course and then went into the cockpit. Dick had left the wheel and was fitting the log line to its bracket. I held the wheel as he dropped the heavy, finned spinner overboard. The thin line trailed aft in our wake and as he let the last loop drop overboard the log wheel began to turn. He came back and took the wheel. ‘What's the course?' he asked.

‘North thirty west,' I answered.

The Nordhordland coast by Bovaagen was already no more than a low line of rock, shining white in the moonlight. It straggled out in a series of hummocks along our starb'd bean until it thinned to a narrow line and vanished. To the west lay open sea. Ahead of us a light winked steadily. ‘That's Hellesöy light,' I said. ‘It's on the island of Fedje. Leave that to port, but keep as close to the island as possible. Utvaer light should then be on the starb'd bow. Hold your course for ten miles and then turn to bring Utvaer fine on the port bow. I've marked it on the chart. Okay?'

‘Fine,' he said. ‘What about watches?'

‘I'll see about that when I've had a talk with Sunde,' I replied. His face looked pale and very young in the moonlight. A livid bruise was darkening round his eye.

‘You got a nasty clip,' I said.

‘Oh, that,' he said, feeling his eye. ‘It's nothing. It was his head that did that.'

‘Feeling all right?'

‘Fine, thanks. Bit chilly, that's all. Could you pass me a duffel coat?'

I opened the cockpit clothing locker and flung him one of the coats. ‘I'll send Wilson up to relieve you,' I said and went for'ard to the main hatch.

As I descended the ladder I heard Sunde's voice through the open door of the saloon. ‘Oi tell yer, Oi don't know nuffink, miss,' he was saying. He gave a quick gasp of pain.

‘Sorry – am I hurting you?' Jill's voice was soft and coaxing. ‘There, that's fine. I'll have that hand right in no time. Mr Sunde. I want you to help me.'

‘Oi'll do anyfink I can, miss.'

I stopped at the bottom of the companionway. They had not heard me coming down in my rubber shoes. Through the open doorway I could see Jill's face, very intense, very determined. She was sitting facing the diver across the saloon table and she held his bandaged hand in hers. ‘It means a lot to me,' she said. Her voice was quiet. ‘A man called George Farnell was killed about a month ago on the Jostedal. He was—' She hesitated. ‘I was very fond of him, Mr Sunde. Until the other day I thought it was an accident. I thought he had been alone. Then I discovered that someone had been with him. His name was Schreuder – an Austrian Jew who worked for the Nazis. Instead of going to the authorities and telling what he knew about Farnell's death, he came to Bovaagen Hval, shipped as a hand with Captain Lovaas and tried to escape to the Shetlands. That was the man who jumped overboard from
Hval Ti
yesterday morning – the man you picked up.'