Biggles Takes it Rough

by W E Johns

  ‘I still don’t see how it’s financially worth while, considering the risks.’

  ‘Mental arithmetic isn’t my strong point, but look at it like this,’ replied Biggles. ‘The stuff they’re brewing here probably costs not more than five or six shillings a gallon to produce. Retailed at, say five bob a nip in a night club, it must bring in something in the order of thirty pounds a gallon — practically all profit — and that’s without watering it down. Done on a big enough scale there’s nothing wrong with that for a get-rich-quick concern. Apparently it pays, never mind how, or they wouldn’t go on with it. There are not as many illicit stills in Scotland and Ireland as there used to be, but no doubt it goes on. Peat and water cost nothing, barley is cheap and the apparatus is simple. But here we are. I’ll do the talking — not that I’ve much to say.’

  The two parties had met. Both stopped, but neither attempted to bar the progress of the other.

  Biggles was the first to speak. ‘You’re all under arrest,’ he said stiffly. ‘Get up to the castle and stay there.’

  The leader of the other side looked, or pretended to look, incredulous. ‘Would you by any chance be talking to me?’ he inquired, in a ridiculous, affected voice.

  ‘Cut out the baby prattle,’ snapped back Biggles caustically. ‘That won’t help you. If you’re Norton, yes, I’m talking to you. And that goes for the rest.’

  Norton scowled. ‘Who are you to give orders to us?’ he asked, in a different tone.

  ‘You should know by now, but I’ll remind you in case you’ve forgotten,’ returned Biggles frostily. ‘We’re police detectives from Scotland Yard.’

  ‘And just what have you detected, may I ask?’

  ‘Everything that’s been going on here, and that should be enough to keep you out of mischief for quite a while. It’s all washed up, and so are you. A boat is on its way here to take you off. If you’re as smart as you think you are you’ll take your medicine without making things any worse for yourselves.’

  One of the men had put a hand in his pocket and Biggles had not failed to notice it. ‘Leave that gun where it is, or before long you’ll wish you had,’ he said sternly. ‘Don’t try anything like that with me. That’s all I have to say. Think it over. You can stay in the castle for the time being.’

  So saying Biggles strode on, Bertie and Ginger with him. For some time none of them looked back. When Ginger did so he saw the gang still standing in the same place, apparently having an argument. He told Biggles.

  ‘They’ve plenty to talk about, and being what they are they’re not likely to agree,’ stated Biggles evenly.

  Rod had come out to meet them. He was smiling. ‘Well, how did it go?’

  Biggles answered. ‘Fine. Couldn’t have worked out better. Now we know it all. As I supposed, the answer was the other side of that door.’

  ‘What’s the racket?’

  ‘There appears to be two, although how far they’re tied up with each other is not yet clear. The first is a whisky distillation plant in your enchanting baronial mansion, which explains the persistent aroma of smouldering peat in the vicinity. That alone in such a place would have told an excise official what was going on.’

  ‘It so happens, old boy, that we’re not excise sleuths,’ protested Bertie. ‘We’re ordinary cops.’

  Biggles ignored the interruption. Speaking to Rod he went on: ‘The still is behind that door they kept locked. It leads to quite a lot of accommodation which I imagine you know nothing about. The booze is being produced in the cellars, which originally must have been quarters for the garrison or, as you said, dungeons for prisoners. Anyway, there seems to be plenty of room in them. When we’re able to search the place properly we may find the gang has been living down there. They may not have intended to when they first came here. It may have been your arrival on the scene that sent ‘em underground. They may have got the tip-off on the mainland that you were on your way, which would explain why you found nothing on your first visit.’

  Rod looked astonished. ‘What do you know about that! What else are they up to?’

  ‘Running a country club, a hide-out in fact, for crooks on the run, escapists, and what have you.’

  ‘How did you get to know about that?’

  ‘The man they left on guard, when he saw the game was up, squealed. In the hope of saving his own skin he’ll turn Queen’s Evidence should we need him. I know the type. There’s usually one like him in a gang. But what about you? How did you get on?’ Walking while they had been talking, they had now reached the croft. ‘You might lay on a meal, Ginger. This place gives one an appetite if nothing else.’

  ‘How did I get on?’ repeated Rod, grinning broadly. ‘No trouble worth mentioning. They had the brass impudence to try to do a deal with me.’

  ‘What sort of a deal?’

  ‘They tried to buy me out.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘First they offered to take the place from me on a five year lease. Money no object, and all that. When I turned the proposition down they wanted to buy the island, lock stock and barrel, on hire purchase terms. I told ‘em of course the place wasn’t mine to sell. Then they said for a lump sum they’d take over the balance of my lease, never mind how long it had to run. I said nothing doing. They asked me why I was so anxious to live on such a lousy island; to which, naturally, I replied, if it was as lousy as all that why were they so mad to have it? Not being able to find an answer to that one, they invited me up to the castle to have a drink with them and talk it over. As you can imagine, I declined without thanks, reminding them of what happened the last time I was there.’

  ‘Had they anything to say about that — I mean, the way we got out?’

  ‘They said we’d been to a lot of unnecessary trouble. No harm was meant. They had no intention of keeping us there. They even tried to make me believe the latch had been broken by accident. I asked them what sort of a mug they thought I was? So the argument went on, which suited me, knowing you wanted me to keep ‘em here for as long as possible. Eventually, when they saw there was absolutely nothing doing, they dropped the old pal line and began to get nasty, threatening to starve me out.’

  ‘What did you say to that?’

  ‘I told ‘em to go ahead, pointing out that as I had enough grub to last me a month that was likely to be a long job. At that they really showed their teeth, going so far as to hint that if I disappeared nobody would know how or where. From that I gathered your scheme for leading them to think I’d been left alone on the island had worked. They really believed that. When the man who’d been doing most of the talking pulled a gun I thought it time to enlighten him. They were standing with their backs to the castle, so I suggested they turned round and had a look at it; which they did. By that time you were all standing outside. Brother, you should have seen their faces when they realized how they’d been tricked. For a minute they really looked like murder, but with a twelve-bore pointing at ‘em at short range nobody seemed anxious to make the first move. That’s how it ended. Moving off, they went into a huddle to talk it over, and after a minute or two set off back up the hill.’

  ‘Great work,’ commended Biggles, smiling. ‘What a disappointing day they must have had.’

  ‘What happens now?’

  ‘First let’s get inside out of this confounded rain and recharge our batteries with some overdue food. After that — well, I don’t know. It needs thinking about. Actually, I don’t see how we can do much until Algy gets back or the Air Commodore sends over a relief party, so if they’re content to call a halt in hostilities so am I. Now we know everything, while they’re boxed up time isn’t all that important.’

  ‘If their boat arrives first it’s going to be awkward,’ Ginger pointed out as they sat on the floor round the variety of canned food he had opened. ‘They’d be able to get away to the mainland, anyway, and I don’t see how we could stop ‘em if they were prepared to shoot it out. Knowing what will happen if they’re caught, they’ll be des
perate, and desperate men take chances.’

  ‘I was trying to get this business buttoned up without any musketry, so we can only hope it doesn’t come to that,’ replied Biggles seriously. ‘Their boat shouldn’t be here before Algy gets back, and I’m reckoning on him being able to tell us the Chief has everything under control. At a pinch I could send him back into the air to put out a call for help on the radio. He should be here some time tomorrow. When we hear him coming we’ll go down to the beach to meet him. I don’t see what else we can do for the moment.’

  They continued with their meal, making the most of it. Outside, with the unbroken cloud practically on the ground and the drizzle falling from it thickening, visibility was down to a few yards. A sea mist did nothing to improve it.

  ‘This weather isn’t going to make things easier for anybody,’ observed Bertie lugubriously. ‘I’d like to see what I’m doing, if you get my meaning.’

  ‘I’d rather have the castle in sight,’ admitted Biggles. ‘But as the weather is beyond our control, as I’ve learned from experience, we shall have to put up with it.’

  ‘There is this about it,’ put in Rod, optimistically. ‘This rain will keep the heather so wet that it wouldn’t be easy to set fire to it. Without any wind to help it, I doubt if a fire could be kept going even if one was started.’

  ‘That’s one comforting thought, anyhow,’ conceded Biggles. ‘To have to spend the night on the open moor, if we were burnt out, would be no joke.’

  ‘The devil of it is, we wouldn’t be able to see ‘em if they decided to creep up on us,’ said Ginger.

  ‘We shall just have to see that doesn’t happen.’

  ‘Which means mounting a guard?’

  ‘Of course. We’ve got ears. Throw those empty cans around outside. If anyone kicks one we shall hear it. ’

  The day wore on and came to a close without further incident. The weather showed no signs of lifting. Night fell from a sky as black as a moonless night can be, but in the living-room of the little house, with a small fire burning, it was snug enough.

  Bertie, who had drawn the first guard, sat on an empty carton just inside the door with Rod’s gun across his knees. In such conditions, with its spread of small shot, it was of course a far more effective weapon than a single bullet automatic pistol.

  CHAPTER 15

  BUTTONED UP

  THE night passed without trouble except for one minor disturbance when Ginger happened to be on duty. It came some time after midnight. The fire had been allowed to go out and he was squatting on the carton close to the open door when he was brought to the alert by the rattle of an empty can. Rattle is perhaps too definite a word. The sound was soft, but it had unquestionably been caused by the movement of a metal object. In the silence of the night it was clear.

  Ginger was on his feet in a moment, peering into the darkness. Seeing nothing, he took a pace forward, instantly to be greeted with a spit and a scurry as if something had made off in a hurry. That told him all he wanted to know so he relaxed, recognizing a noise which could only have been made by a cat. Satisfied that it was a false alarm, he resumed his vigil.

  The explanation came in the morning when he asked Rod if there were any wildcats on the island. Rod said he didn’t know if there were any true wildcats, but he had noticed one or two common cats prowling about and concluded some must have been left behind when the place was evacuated. Left to fend for themselves they would of course go wild, or their progeny would.

  ‘One was prowling round the house during the night,’ explained Ginger. ‘It must have tried to lick out an empty can. Gave me a fright.’

  Daybreak brought an improvement in the weather in that the rain had stopped, although the sky was still overcast. The castle could not be seen as the high ground was enveloped in grey mist. The ridge between the house and the beach was a vague shape that might have been anything had they not known what it was. For the rest, what could be seen of the surrounding moor presented a miserable, rain-soaked spectacle, as depressing as a landscape could be.

  ‘I’m afraid Algy won’t be happy trying to get down in this,’ said Biggles, looking worried as he relit the fire for morning tea and breakfast. ‘What a climate.’

  ‘It’s early yet, old boy,’ consoled Bertie. ‘It may brighten up a bit later.’

  ‘You might take a stroll as far as the beach to check how the tide goes,’ requested Biggles. ‘As he’s landed here before, he might try to put the machine down close to the croft; but if I were in his position I’d make for the beach where there’s more room. It may take him all his time to get down even there without bumping his undercart on the rocks.’

  ‘Don’t empty the teapot before I get back,’ said Bertie, as he went out.

  In a matter of seconds there was a gunshot and he returned with alacrity.

  Biggles had jumped up from the fire. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Some dirty dog had a crack at me.’

  ‘Are you sure the shot was fired at you?’

  ‘Too true it was. I heard it whistle.’

  ‘What direction did it come from?’

  ‘I couldn’t be sure but I think it came from the ridge — somewhere in that direction, anyhow.’

  ‘Now what are they up to?’ muttered Biggles, going to the door and looking out.

  Rod spoke. ‘If you want my opinion I’d say their play is to keep us cooped up in here.’

  ‘Hm.’ Biggles frowned. ‘I didn’t consider that possibility. If they could keep us here until their boat comes they might get away with it after all. A few men placed along the ridge would make getting to the beach an uncomfortable business. But whether we like it or not we shall have to do it. Algy, suspecting nothing, will probably land on the beach. That’s where he’d expect to find us. I can’t believe they’d deliberately murder him, but it wouldn’t be hard to put the machine out of action. A few holes in the right place would be enough. That would put us on a spot. We’d be stuck here while they got away in the boat when it comes.’

  ‘So what do we do about it?’ asked Rod calmly.

  Biggles considered the problem. ‘For the moment I don’t see that we need do anything. It’ll be when we hear the machine coming that we shall have to get cracking. Between now and then the weather may clear, in which case, not seeing us on the beach, Algy would scout round for us. But it’s no use relying on the weather. It seldom does the right thing.’

  ‘If Algy doesn’t see us on the beach he’ll come here,’ asserted Ginger confidently.

  ‘Even so that wouldn’t prevent ‘em from shooting up the machine. We’re too close to the ridge. It’d be like shooting at a sitting duck. This needs thinking about. We’re in no hurry.’

  ‘What’s to stop us making a sortie and outflanking them?’ suggested Rod.

  ‘What good would that do?’

  ‘We could dislodge ‘em.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We’ve got guns.’

  Biggles shook his head. ‘I’m not starting any pitched battle to make my name headline news. If they attacked us it would be a different matter. We’d be justified in defending ourselves.’

  ‘What are they doing now if they aren’t attacking us?’ argued Rod.

  ‘That’s open to question. We couldn’t prove they’d been shooting at us.’

  ‘All right, if that’s how you feel. Would you like me to go out and try to locate ‘em? My scatter-gun would give them something to think about. I could sting ‘em without killing anyone.’

  ‘No, thanks all the same. I’m not letting you go out to offer yourself as an easy target. This is no time or place to have casualties on our hands.’

  ‘They’re probably thinking the same thing.’

  ‘Meaning on their side or ours?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘I guess that was only a warning shot they fired at Bertie, to send him back in here. It wasn’t intended to hit him. Had that been what they wanted, unless
they’re rotten shots they must have got him.’

  ‘Hold hard a minute,’ protested Bertie. ‘That bullet whispered in my ear.’

  ‘A miss is as good as a mile. Look at it like this. Had they been serious in wanting to bump you off, all they had to do was let you walk on right into ‘em: to a range so close they couldn’t miss. As you didn’t know they were there that would have been plumb easy.’

  Biggles took a deep draw at his cigarette. ‘You know, Rod, I think you may have something there. Your argument makes sense to me. They can’t want bodies lying about any more than we do, in case our relief gets here before their boat. Illicit whisky distilling is a minor crime compared with murder.’

  ‘Supposing you’re right, what difference does it make?’ queried Ginger.

  ‘At this particular moment not much, because we’ve no reason to go outside. But if the weather should change, or Algy arrive on the scene, it would make things easier if we knew their shooting was only bluff.’

  ‘There’s only one way to find that out, old boy, and that’s by putting it to the test — if you see what I mean,’ contributed Bertie, breathing on his eyeglass and polishing it.

  ‘Don’t talk like a chump,’ Biggles told him. ‘What’s the point in knowing they’re prepared to use their guns after the damage has been done?’

  ‘I don’t mind going out.’

  ‘Stay where you are.’

  Conversation had lagged for a while when Biggles announced from the window that it was getting brighter.

  ‘This murk can clear as quickly as it comes down,’ asserted Rod. ‘I’ve seen it happen.’