Jack Higgins (7 page)

“She was one of the great original stars of the silent screen. Made her first picture before the first world war. She dropped out when talkies came in. It sounds crazy now, but she thought the whole thing was just a flash in the pan.”

“I think I remember her now,” I said. “Wasn't there some scandal concerning her death? Drugs or something?”

He flared up instantly. “That's a damned lie. There were always people who hated her—hated her for what she was—a lady. A real lady in a world of phonies.”

He beckoned to the waiter and ordered whisky. “Strange, but the older you get, the more you start looking back and the harder you look, the more you realise what a game of chance the whole thing is. The right street corner at the right time.”

“I'm with you there,” I said. “What was yours?”

“The end of the pier in Santa Barbara in 1930—a fine rainy night with the fog rolling in. That's when I met Lilian. She'd gone out for a walk in the rain—one of her weaknesses as I discovered when I got to know her better. Some bum tried to get fresh with her.”

“And you intervened?”

“That's it.” He stared back into the past, a slight smile on his mouth. “I was just sixteen—a raw kid fresh from Wisconsin who wanted to act. She did everything for me. Clothes, grooming—even sent me to drama school for a while and, most important of all, she got me my first part in pictures.”

“And what did you have to do in return?” I said. “Sit up and beg?”

It was a cruel and senseless remark that I regretted at once, but I got no chance to apologise. I wasn't even aware of his hand moving, but he had me by the throat with a strength I never knew he possessed and there was a fire in his eyes like hot coals as I started to choke.

“Not a thing—not a solitary damned thing. She treated me like a son. She was a lady, do you hear me? The last time I heard a man say a wrong word about her I broke his jaw.”

He released me suddenly and I sucked in air. “I get the message. Sarah Kelso's the first lady you've met since?”

“She's got quality, that's for sure and it's a scarce commodity in the world we live in.” He emptied his glass and shook his head. “What's it all about, Joe? Life, living, the whole bit. Ever ask yourself?”

“At a rough average I'd say around twenty-seven times a day.”

“You can always see the funny side,” he said, “I wish to hell I could.” He stared sombrely into space. “I've been living on Stage 6 at Horizon Studios for so long that nothing seems real any more.”

“Except Sarah Kelso?”

There was a cutting edge to my voice that I was unable to conceal and he was immediately aware of it and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“And the good Mr. Hans Vogel and his associate—the claims surveyor who can afford to wear eighty-guinea Savile Row suits. Salary scales in insurance offices must
have risen considerably since I worked in the City.”

“What are you getting at?” he demanded.

“I can smell fish as well as the next man and in this case you don't need to stand too close.” He stared at me blankly. “It's shot full of holes, Jack, the whole tale. There are so many loose ends I wouldn't know where to start.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Vogel's some kind of crook?”

Is anything ever that simple? I shook my head. “Maybe you're right, Jack. Perhaps you've been acting one part after another for so long that you've lost all touch with reality. Do you think the villain of the piece always has to look like Sidney Greenstreet or his bully boy like Bogart or Cagney?”

“Stratton?” he said incredulously. “You're trying to tell me that two-by-four is some kind of tough guy?”

“At a rough guess I'd say he'd slice your throat for a packet of cigarettes in the right circumstances.”

He stared up at me, eyes wide. “Brother, do you need a good night's sleep.”

“Which is just what I intend to get,” I said sweetly and stood up. “See you around, Jack.” And I turned and pushed my way through the crowd to the hall.

 

I didn't go to bed straight away, there was too much to think about. Outside the wind drove hail like lead bullets against the window and I lit a cigarette and lay on the bed with the radio playing.

When I first heard the knock I thought I was mistaken, it was so gentle, but it came again, a little louder this
time and I crossed to the door and opened it.

Sarah Kelso smiled diffidently. “Could you spare me a minute?”

“My pleasure.”

As I closed the door she moved to the window and looked out into the darkness. “Is it always as rough as this?”

I crossed to the bed and turned down the radio. “I don't get the impression you came here to discuss the weather, Mrs. Kelso.”

She turned, a wan smile on her face. “You're very direct, aren't you, Mr. Martin? In a way that makes it easier. You're quite right, of course. I didn't come here to discuss the weather. To tell you the truth I was hoping you might put me in touch with this pilot you mentioned—Arnie Fassberg I think you said his name was.”

“You mean tonight?” I shook my head. “I thought I made it clear that he was otherwise engaged.”

“Yes, I know,” she said, a touch of impatience in her voice. “He's with some girl. Surely that doesn't mean I can't talk to him.”

“What's Vogel think of this?”

“As far as I know he's in bed.” She moved closer and said with a sort of quiet desperation that was very convincing, “I just want to talk to him, Mr. Martin. I want to know now, tonight, if he can help us. I can't stand much more of this uncertainty.”

I frowned down at her, trying to work out what was going on behind that clear, pure mask she called a face, but she held my gaze unwaveringly.

“All right,” I said. “Wait here and I'll see what I can do.”

 

It was quiet at the end of the corridor and there was no sound from inside Gudrid's room. I glanced at my watch. It was just coming up to midnight and according to Arnie she was on duty till one a.m. When I tried the door it was locked, but as I started to turn away, Gudrid came down the service stairs holding a pile of blankets.

There was a glow to her skin and her eyes were shining, giving her the sort of look you find on the face of the cat that's had the cream. Whatever else you could say about him Arnie always seemed to give satisfaction.

“And what can I do for you?” she demanded brightly.

“I thought Arnie might be here.”

“He left about an hour ago. He told me he wanted a good night's sleep for once. He's flying down to Itvak first thing in the morning. Was it something important?”

I shook my head. “It can wait. I'll see him tomorrow.”

 

Sarah Kelso was standing at the window smoking one of my cigarettes when I went in and she turned sharply.

“Too late,” I said. “He's gone home.”

“Is it far?”

“Five or ten minutes walk.”

“Would you take me?” She moved in close enough to fill my nostrils with her perfume and fixed me with those dark eyes of hers.

“No need to go overboard, Mrs. Kelso,” I said. “You'll need boots and the warmest coat you've got. I'll meet you in the hall in five minutes.”

She put a hand on my arm and said hesitatingly, “I was wondering—is there another way out?”

I nodded. “The service stairs take you right down to the basement. There's a door that opens into the backyard. Would you rather go that way?”

“It's just that Mr. Stratton went back down to the bar. If he saw me going out, he might wonder what was going on.”

“It's certainly a thought,” I said.

Just for a moment I'd caught her off balance and the eager smile slipped fractionally, but she obviously decided to let it go.

“I'll only be a moment,” she said and went out.

 

There was a force eight gale blowing outside that drove the rain straight into our faces like rusty nails and Sarah Kelso held my arm tightly and huddled against me as we made our way along the main streets.

We didn't talk because it took everything we had just to make progress, but when we turned into the narrow street that contained Arnie's place the tall wooden houses on our right broke the force of the wind and the going was a little easier.

Arnie's house was at the far end and backed by rising ground that rose into the foothills, a single-storey wooden building with a veranda at the front. There was a light at the window and a loose shutter swung to and fro in the wind.

I knocked at the door and after a while Arnie opened it and peered out. A scarf was knotted around his neck
and he was wearing a dressing gown, but he didn't look as if he'd been roused from his bed.

In that first moment he only saw me and grinned. “Hey, Joe, you old devil. What can I do for you?”

I pulled Sarah Kelso out of the shadows and pushed her forward. “Mind if we come in, Arnie? It's damned cold out here.”

His astonishment was plain, but he stood back at once so that we could enter. It was warm and inviting inside with a fire roaring in the stove so that the iron plate on top glowed cherry red.

Sarah Kelso took off her gloves and spread her hands to the warmth. “This is nice—this is very nice.”

“Arnie Fassberg—Mrs. Sarah Kelso. We'd like to see you on a little matter of business, Arnie, if you can spare five minutes.”

“Business?” he said and dragged his eyes away from her reluctantly. “I don't understand.”

“Mrs. Kelso can do all the explaining necessary.”

She turned and looked at me coolly. “You've been very kind, Mr. Martin, but I don't think there's any need for you to stay and go through all this again. I'm sure Mr. Fassberg can see me back to the hotel.”

“Think you can manage that?” I asked Arnie who looked as if he'd been hit by a rather light truck.

“Oh, sure—sure I can, Joe,” he said hurriedly. “You don't need to worry about Mrs. Kelso. I'll see she gets back to the hotel all right.”

I'd reached the door when she called to me. When I turned, Arnie was helping her off with her coat. It was then that I noticed she'd changed into a peacock blue
dress in jersey wool that buttoned down the front and finished just above the knee. The black leather cossack boots provided just the right final touch.

She crossed to me quickly and put a hand on my sleeve. “You won't mention this to Mr. Vogel if you see him, will you? I wouldn't like him to get the wrong idea.”

“We must avoid that at all costs,” I assured her solemnly. “You can rely on me.”

Again that smile of hers slipped, but I turned and went out before she could say anything further.

The wind changed direction, roaring up the funnel of the narrow street, smacking me in the face with the force of a stiff right hand. I was bitterly cold and soaked to the skin as I turned the corner, but it didn't seem to matter one little bit. I wondered how Arnie was doing and laughed out loud. Whether he knew it nor not, he was going to have to pay through the nose for whatever he got that night.

I
t was a fine bright morning as I walked up to the air-strip to check on the weather. Behind the town the mountains seemed very close in the crystal air like cutouts pasted on a blue backdrop and sheep drifted across the green foothills in a white cloud pushed by a shepherd and two barking dogs. On such a morning it was easy to understand how the country had got its name and for a moment I thought of those early Viking ships nosing into the fjords in search of the promised land.

Arnie's Aermacchi was already on the runway, a mechanic priming the engine while the young Icelander watched, white hair glinting in the sun. When he saw me he waved and crossed the tarmac, a big smile on his face.

“You look pleased with yourself,” I said.

His smile widened. “She's quite a woman, Joe, believe
me. Not as good as she thinks she is, but I certainly wouldn't kick her out of bed.”

“I couldn't imagine you doing that to a seventy-five-year-old Eskimo woman. I suppose she found time to tell you the tale? Have you met Vogel yet?”

“As a matter of fact I had breakfast with him.”

“Did you mention your night out with Mrs. Kelso?”

He spread his arms wide, an injured look on his face. “When did I ever open my mouth about a lady?”

“Don't make me answer that,” I said. “What did she want to see you about anyway?”

He put a hand on my shoulder, his face serious.

“It's love, Joe, from that first wonderful moment when she bumped into me in the corridor outside her room. She just knew she had to come to me.”

“I get the picture,” I said. “It's bigger than both of you.”

“That's it—that's it exactly.”

“You lying bastard—how about the truth for a change?”

“That's just what I've given you. Oh, she wanted to know if I could help them with this other thing as well. The poor girl's obviously had a very bad time of it lately, but it was me she'd come to see.”

“Then why all the mystery? Why did she ask me to shut up about it to Vogel?”

“I should have thought that was obvious. He's fallen in love with her and like most older men in that position, he's jealous and possessive. She doesn't want to get him stirred up, that's all.”

“He never even loved his mother that one,” I said.
“Still, have it your own way. You're hiring out to Vogel then?”

“I can't afford not to at the prices he's offering. I'll be surprised if I earn my fee though. It's rough country up there. I can't think of anywhere offhand where I could put down.”

“There's always Lake Sule. Maybe you could land on the ice.”

He nodded. “I thought of that, but I shouldn't imagine it would be firm enough. At this time of the year it's usually at the halfway stage. I hear you're going to Intusk this morning?”

“That's right.”

“I was wondering whether you'd be interested in taking on an extra trip while you're in that region. I was supposed to fly a supply of drugs to the Portuguese fishing fleet's hospital ship. She's lying offshore at Itvak. It's only another fifty miles.”

“Suits me,” I said, “as long as I get paid. What are you going to do?”

“I've got some supplies to deliver to the Royal Greenland Trading Company's store at Sandvig. I thought I could fly on from there and have a look at this plane wreck. It's the only way I can fit it in today. I've got a flight scheduled to Malamusk this afternoon and I can't afford to miss that.”

I could understand how he felt. His connection with the Americans at Malamusk was too important to mess about with just for the sake of squeezing in a charter flight for someone he'd never heard of before. He had a seasonal contract. One trip a week with supplies and
technical equipment that paid his expenses for the whole summer. Everything else was gravy.

“Are you taking Vogel and company along?”

He shook his head. “I'm carrying too much weight on the Sandvig run as it is with those stores. Anyway this is only in the nature of a preliminary survey just to see if there is a snowfield in the vicinity. I don't think I'll have time to land even if I do find somewhere.”

“All right,” I said. “You'd better arrange for those drugs to be transferred to the Otter. I don't want to be late in getting off. I've a lot on today.”

“They're already on board.” He grinned. “You're always so reliable, Joe. See you tonight at the Fredericsmut.”

I watched him run across to the Aermacchi and clamber in. He'd hardly got the door closed before the engine fired and he was away, lifting her far too soon. His nose dropped, but he'd enough sense not to pull back on the stick until he had the power.

He roared across the harbour no more than twenty feet above the water and then his engine note deepened and he started to climb at just the right moment, banking into the sun, all for my benefit of course, nice and fast and showy and one of these days he was going to kill himself doing it.

 

I had a clear run down to Intusk and Itvak and was back in Frederiksborg before noon to pick up three passengers for Godthaab. From there I flew on to Søndre Strømfjord to meet the afternoon jet from Copenhagen. By
four-thirty, I was on my way back with four young Danes who'd come to join the construction crew.

The weather had stayed perfect all day so that there had been no problems to speak of and yet I was tired—really tired. My arms ached and there was a gritty feeling beneath my eyelids as if I hadn't been getting enough sleep. What I really needed was a day off, not that there was any great hope of that.

When we reached Frederiksborg I circled the harbour a couple of times, just to check that I had a clear run, and noticed that the
Stella
had arrived safely. She was tied up at the main jetty and as I came in for my landing someone came out on deck and stood at the rail watching me. I was pretty sure it was Ilana Eytan, but at that distance I couldn't be certain.

I dropped the wheels and ran the Otter up the slipway out of the water. The young Danes gave me a hand to lash her down for the night and as we finished, a Land-Rover appeared to a take them up to the construction camp headquarters. They offered me a lift, but I had business with the harbourmaster and let them go on without me.

When I came out of the harbourmaster's office, Arnie was down at the slipway sitting on a bollard beside the Otter smoking a cigarette and waving vigorously in the direction of the
Stella.
It was Ilana Eytan all right, standing there at the stern rail in her sheepskin coat and a red headscarf.

“I got the impression that your spare time was fully occupied at the moment,” I said.

“I'd toss the whole damned lot of them out of the window for that one. What a woman.”

“I seem to have heard that before somewhere.”

He waved again and she turned and went below. “The story of my life.”

“Don't give me that,” I said. “Anyway, how did you get on?”

“At the scene of the crash?” He shook his head. “Not very well, I'm afraid. To start with I'd some difficulty in locating the plane. From what I could see it's lying at the bottom of a deep gully.”

“And you couldn't land?”

“Out of the question. It's very rough country between there and Sule, Joe. There were one or two places that looked like vague possibilities, but I wouldn't dream of trying them without a ground check and that just isn't practical. I could break a ski or maybe my neck or lose the plane. Even the kind of money Vogel is offering isn't worth the risk.”

“What about Lake Sule?”

He shrugged. “There was a hell of a lot of mist in that area, so I didn't get down very low. From what I could see there was open water, but still plenty of ice about.”

“So neither of us could land?”

“That's certainly the way it looked to me. You could maybe manage it in the Otter later in September, but I wouldn't give much for your chances at the moment.”

“Have you told Vogel yet?”

“This afternoon. He was pretty upset about it, but as I told him, there just isn't anything more I can do.” He glanced at his watch. “I'll have to go. I've got an evening
flight to Malamusk—a special trip with spares for a drilling rig that's broken down. I should be back within a couple of hours. Will you be at the Fredericsmut tonight?”

“Very probably.”

“I'll see you later then.”

I started to refuel the Otter by hand from the stacked jerrycans at the top of the slipway and was still there when he took off ten minutes later. I watched him dwindle into the distance, a hand shading my eyes from the evening sun and when I turned, Ilana Eytan was at the top of the slipway.

“How's the intrepid aviator?”

I emptied the last jerrycan into the tank, screwed the cap home and climbed down. “Did you have a pleasant trip?”

“I've known better. We hit some ice on the way in this morning.”

“Any damage?”

“The decks aren't awash if that's what you mean. Sørensen's taking her into dry-dock tomorrow.”

“Have you seen Jack?”

She shook her head. “I think he's keeping out of the way.”

There was a question I'd wanted to put to her, something that had been niggling away at the back of my mind. God knows why. She sat on the bollard Arnie had used and I gave her a cigarette.

“Will you tell me something if I ask it politely enough?”

“Try me.”

“Why did you come. Why did you really come?”

She didn't seem particularly surprised. “Have you tried asking Jack?”

“As a matter of fact I have.”

“And what was the verdict?”

“He says you're here to make sure of the female lead in his new picture.”

“Well, now, that would seem to make a whole lot of sense to me.” Was there a touch of irony in her voice? It was impossible to be sure and she turned up the collar of her sheepskin coat. “I can't really think of anything else that would bring me to a Godforsaken hole like this, can you?”

“Not offhand, but I could give it some thought.”

“You do that and in the meantime you can give me a hand to transfer my stuff from the
Stella.
Sørensen thinks I'd be better off in the hotel at the moment.”

She turned without a word and started across the foreshore to the jetty. I stood there watching her go. She climbed to the concrete causeway, turned and looked down at me.

“Are you coming?”

“Are you sure you want me?” I said. “I've a feeling this could easily become a habit.”

I caught her right off guard and for a moment, she was as tongue-tied as any young girl on a first date. Her recovery, when it came, was way below her usual acid standard.

“Don't be an idiot,” she said uncertainly, turned and walked away.

But she knew when I started after her, I could tell by
the tilt of her head and the way her shoulders straightened and for some totally inexplicable reason—or at least that's what I tried to tell myself—my stomach went hollow with excitement.