The Blue Ice

by Innes, Hammond;

  ‘Perhaps there was another boat there,’ Curtis suggested. ‘He may have rowed down to Bovaagen.’

  ‘Possible,’ I said.

  ‘Or he may have walked,’ Curtis added, gazing towards the little wooden church on the distant hill. ‘It can’t be so very far if the men walk it every day.’

  ‘Far enough,’ I said. ‘Anyway, their houses are probably this side of the village. Come on. We’ll take Diviner down there.’

  We turned back then and walked towards the sun. As we crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the cutting, we met some of the men starting home. They were a small, dark lot with dirty clothes and almost every one of them carried a dripping hunk of red meat. They smiled at us in a quiet, friendly way and said, ‘God dag,’ as they passed. Curtis spoke with one or two. Most of them had houses much nearer than Bovaagen. Bovaagen, they said, was over an hour’s hard walking.

  We got back to the Kiellands’ in time for tea and a drink. Immediately afterwards we excused ourselves and went down to the ship. As we walked through the almost deserted station, Jill said to me, ‘If we don’t find Mr Sunde at Bovaagen, we might try Nordhanger.’

  ‘Einar Sandven’s cottage?’ I asked.

  She nodded. ‘There’s a road to Nordhanger from Bovaagen.’

  As we passed through the dark cavern of the packing sheds, a ship’s siren reverberated through the low island hills. I stopped, listening to the sound of it dying away. Then it came again, a deep, hollow sound. Curtis, who was ahead, ran out on to the quay. Then he turned and called to us. ‘It’s Lovaas,’ he shouted. ‘He’s coming in.’

  The slanting sunlight sprawled the shadow of Hval To across the quay. Curtis was pointing across the catcher’s bow with its deadly harpoon gun. Through the gap between the islands, steamed another catcher. Its siren-puff of steam still hung like a white wreath astern of it. Across the still water came the sound of the engine-room telegraph. The catcher began to swing as it manoeuvred in to the quay. The golden sunlight caught the side of the bridge. HVAL 10. ‘Come on,’ I said to the others. ‘We mustn’t appear too interested.’

  We went on along the quay, past the pile of fifty-kilo cases of whale meat awaiting dispatch, past Hval To, whose men were all on deck watching Lovaas come in, until we came to Diviner. Her deck was deserted. The varnish of her bare masts shone warm in the slanting sun. We climbed aboard and went below. Dahler was sitting alone in the saloon. ‘Where’s Carter and Wilson?’ I asked him.

  ‘They have gone to look over Hval To, and to have a little drink, I think.’ He smiled. A bottle of whisky and a half full tumbler stood at his elbow. ‘I am glad you have returned. It is very dull down below here. But I do not wish to look at the factory.’ He reached for the bottle. ‘Have a drink,’ he said. ‘Everybody come an’ have a drink.’ He suddenly crashed the bottle down on to the table top. ‘I do not wish to look at the factory, I tell you.’ He pushed the bottle quickly away and raised his withered arm. ‘Why you bring me here, eh?’ he demanded of me. ‘Why did you bring me here? Was it to torture me? Do you think I like to be here – marooned in your damned yacht – knowing that if I go up on deck I shall be face to face with the factory – my factory. Ever since you went to lunch with Kielland I have been down here. And I have been thinking. I have been thinking about the ships I owned and the tankers – and Knut Jorgensen.’ He slammed his claw-like hand down on to the table top with a violence that shook the room. ‘I do not like to think about such things,’ he cried. His voice was slurred and hysterical. ‘It is not good to think about them.’ He stopped and his eyes narrowed cunningly. He leaned towards me. ‘What would you do in my position, eh?’ And suddenly violent again, he shouted, ‘You’d do what I’m going to do. There is no justice – no God. I have lived through two wars. I have seen evil flourish and the good have been mown down. I tell you – there – is – no – justice.’ Then, speaking faster, so that the saliva was visible at the corners of his mouth: ‘But I will make my own justice. I will fight them with their own weapons, do you understand?’

  Jill went forward and took his hand. ‘Yes, we understand, Mr Dahler,’ she said. Her voice was quiet and soothing. ‘Sit down now. We’re all going to have a drink with you.’ She picked up the bottle and smiled at him. ‘You haven’t left us very much, Mr Dahler.’

  ‘No,’ he said. He swallowed awkwardly and sat down again. He was suddenly a tired and rather pathetic old man. He passed his hand wearily over his face. ‘I have drunk too much,’ he whispered. Then, with sudden renewal of his violence, ‘But I will not sit here doing nothing while Knut Jorgensen fills my place. I enlarged it. At my father’s death we had five ships, that was all. When the Germans invaded Norway, I had a fleet of fourteen coasters and four tankers. Twenty-three thousand tons.’ He seized the tumbler and drank, spilling the whisky down his chin. ‘All gone,’ he murmured. ‘Nothing left. Nothing left, damn them – do you hear? God!’ He buried his head in his hands. He was crying openly.

  ‘Go up and get some more glasses, Dick,’ I said. ‘There are several lying about in the chartroom.’

  As he slid open the door, we could hear orders being shouted in Norwegian and the sound of the catcher’s engines going astern. Jill looked across at me. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked. ‘Are you going to Bovaagen?’

  I hesitated. Dahler lifted his tear-stained face. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. ‘Have a drink,’ he said, seizing the bottle and pushing it across the table towards me. He rose unsteadily to his feet. ‘I want you all to have a drink with me,’ he said raising his glass. ‘I want you to drink with me to the – to the damnation of Jorgensen.’ He drained his glass and sat down. He looked dazed.

  Dick came tumbling down the gangway. ‘Bill,’ he called. ‘Lovaas is coming on board.’

  ‘On board Diviner?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I turned to Jill. ‘Get Dahler into his cabin. Curtis, shut him in. He mustn’t meet Lovaas.’

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the deck over our heads. ‘Mr Gansert!’ It was Lovaas’s deep voice. ‘Mr Gansert! Anyone below?’

  Jill and Curtis between them had got Dahler out from behind the table. ‘Yes?’ I called. ‘Who wants me?’

  ‘Kaptein Lovaas,’ came the reply. ‘May I come down please?’

  I went to the companionway. ‘What do you want, Captain Lovaas?’ I asked.

  ‘I wish to speak with you,’ was the reply.

  I glanced back into the saloon. Curtis was just shutting the door of Dahler’s cabin. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Come on down.’

  A moment later Lovaas’s squat bulk filled the companionway. ‘It is a party, eh?’ he said, smiling as he saw the glasses on the table. ‘That is god. I will never refuse a little drink.’ His face beamed. He was positively genial.

  ‘Whisky?’ I asked, picking up the bottle and one of the glasses.

  ‘Whisky. Yes, that will do very well.’ His thick, powerful fingers engulfed the glass I handed him. He waited till all our glasses were filled. Then he said, ‘Skaal!’

  ‘Skaal!’ I replied.

  He drained his glass at one gulp and breathed with satisfaction. ‘That is good whisky, Mr Gansert.’

  I refilled his glass. ‘And why have you come to see me?’ I asked. My tone was not particularly welcoming.

  He laughed. ‘You think I should be angry, eh? I have a quick temper, Mr Gansert. It comes easily. It goes easily. I do not think about what happens at middag. There are more important things.’ He glanced at the others. ‘Shall we speak alone, Mr Gansert?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s not necessary,’ I replied sharply.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘As you wish.’ He pulled up a chair and sat himself down. His heavy body in its bottle green jacket seemed to engulf the chair. ‘I have been to Bovaagen. From there I took a drosje to Nordhanger.’ He pulled a short cigar from his pocket and lit it. ‘Einar Sandven was not at Nordhanger. Nor was he at Bovaagen. Peer Storjohann was also not at Bovaagen. Both of them have
not been to Bovaagen today. Mr Sunde is a liar.’ He smiled. It was a fat, roguish smile. But his blue eyes were narrowed and watchful. ‘But I think you knew that, Mr Gansert, eh?’

  ‘Well?’ I said.

  He looked around the silent room. ‘You and your friends are all interested in this man – Schreuder? You think, as I think, that he is rescued by the divers. He is still alive. In that case he can be traced.’ He paused and drew on his cigar. ‘Mr Gansert – you are here for a big English metals company. You do not come all this way just to find out about the death of a man who is not even employed by your company. This man, Farnell; he was an expert on metals. Perhaps Schreuder kill him.’ He smiled as though at some secret joke. ‘Perhaps he kill himself. But the man who escape from my boat, he leaves me with those little grey pieces of rock I mention. When I show them to herr direktör Jorgensen, he seize them and is away to Bergen at once. Now I am not a stupid man. I know when a thing is important. When I give them to herr Jorgensen, his eyes light up like my searchlight. Like my searchlight. He is excited, you understand. So I know that this is the clue.’ He leaned quickly forward, stabbing his cigar at me. ‘These pieces of rock – they are samples of metal, I think. Is that not so?’

  I said, ‘You’ve a right to your own conclusions, Captain Lovaas.’

  ‘My own conclusions!’ He laughed and slapped his knee. ‘That is god. Very careful. Most diplomatic.’ Then his voice suddenly hardened. ‘Please, I do not like long words. Am I right or wrong?’

  ‘You can think what you like,’ I answered.

  ‘So.’ He smiled. ‘I understand. Now, Mr Gansert. The position is this. You know what this metal is. Herr Jorgensen does not – not yet. By tomorrow he know. But now – at this moment – he does not. You have the advantage of one day. I have thought of this very carefully. This is what I have thought. You know what the metal is. But you do not know where it is. That is why you are here. Now I know something that you do not know.’

  ‘What is that?’ I asked.

  He laughed. ‘That I keep a secret. Just as you keep secret the metal. But now, perhaps, we talk about business, eh? We can help each other. You are a smart man. Jorgensen is a fool. He take my pieces of metal. But he does not pay me. He only threatens. I could have help him. But no! He is the great herr direktör. And I am just the best skytter in Norway. Now, you are clever. We can work together and when we find this man—’

  ‘How will you find him?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, I have ways of doing things. I will find him all right. Now, what do you say?’

  I hesitated. The man was no fool. But what was it he knew that I didn’t? And as I hesitated I heard the door of Dahler’s cabin open behind me.

  ‘So you will double-cross your master?’ Dahler’s voice was no longer slurred. It purred.

  Lovaas jumped to his feet. ‘Herr Dahler?’ His voice was startled. Then angrily: ‘Why are you here? What is the little game, eh?’

  ‘You are surprised to see me?’ Dahler gripped the table for support. ‘Why are you so surprised? Am I not permitted to visit my own country?’ His voice was suddenly violent. ‘Who are you to decide whether I shall come here to Bovaagen Hval or not? Answer me! What did you do in the war, eh? I will tell you. You were a collaborator. You went where there was money. You worked for the Germans. You captained one of their—’

  ‘This is enough, herr Dahler,’ Lovaas roared. ‘Everyone in Norway knows how you sell the secret of the new marine engine – how you arrange the guard up at Finse. Whilst you flee to England, I was working for my country – underground.’ Lovaas suddenly sat down. He was breathing heavily. ‘But I did not come here to throw words at you, herr Dahler. I come here to talk to Mr Gansert.’

  I glanced up at Dahler. His face was white. He looked utterly exhausted. But there was a strange gleam in his eyes. ‘Yes, I am sorry.’ His voice was quieter, almost apologetic. ‘I talk too quickly; I am upset.’ He sank down on to the settee beside me. ‘So Jorgensen has not paid you, eh?’ He laughed softly. The sound was cold, almost gleeful. ‘And you like money, do you not, Lovaas?’ He leaned quickly forward. ‘I wonder if you realise what there is in this for the man who knows where the metals are to be found? I will tell you, Lovaas. There is a fortune. Jorgensen has gone to Bergen with your samples of ore. From there he will fly to Oslo. By tomorrow his experts will be examining those samples. In a day, two days perhaps, he will know. You have realised that. And so you are here to discover what there is in this for you. Is not that right?’

  Lovaas nodded. His eyes were fixed on Dahler. There was a cold, avaricious gleam in them.

  ‘Mr Dahler,’ I said. ‘Will you please leave this to me?’

  He cocked his head on one side as he peered into my face. ‘You need not be afraid,’ he said softly. ‘I am finding an ally for you – an ally – for – us – both.’ He switched to Lovaas. ‘Find the man who escapes from your ship this morning, Kaptein Lovaas. That is all you have to do. But you will have to be quick. Jorgensen will not stop at anything once he knows about those metals.’

  Lovaas smiled. ‘You do not like direktör Jorgensen, eh, herr Dahler?’

  His emphasis on the direktör was like a goad to Dahler. ‘Like him!’ he almost screamed. ‘If I had—’ He stopped abruptly, smiling secretly to himself.

  Lovaas laughed. Then he turned quickly to me. ‘Now, Mr Gansert – do we work together, or not? What is your offer?’

  ‘At the moment, there is no offer, Captain Lovaas,’ I answered. ‘But if you can produce Schreuder – then we might perhaps talk again.’

  Lovaas smiled. ‘I understand. That is what you English call C.O.D.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Very well, Mr Gansert. When I have the man, we will talk again.’ He paused in the doorway. ‘Don’t forget the diver, Mr Gansert.’

  ‘He has gone to Bovaagen,’ I said.

  ‘Ja, he was in Bovaagen. I had some speak with him.’ He smiled. ‘That was very good Scotch. It has make me warm in here.’ He slapped his huge belly. ‘Warm and friendly, Mr Gansert.’

  We watched him go in silence. His heavy footsteps sounded on the deck. He bellowed an order in Norwegian. Then all was quiet. The saloon seemed almost empty without him.

  ‘Did he really have a talk with Sunde, do you think?’ Dick asked.

  I didn’t answer. I was wondering whether I could use Lovaas or not.

  Dahler struggled to his feet. ‘I am going on deck,’ he said. ‘I must have some fresh air.’ He pushed past me. His face was deathly pale. He staggered slightly as he went through the door.

  ‘Follow him up,’ I said to Curtis. ‘Don’t let him see you. But just make certain he comes to no harm. He’s so full of liquor he’s just as likely to walk into the sea as on to the quay.’

  Jill sighed. ‘Poor Mr Dahler,’ she said. ‘Life hasn’t been very kind to him.’

  A moment later Curtis was back in the saloon. ‘Dahler all right?’ I asked.

  ‘Bit unsteady. But sober enough to get on to the quay and go on board Hval Ti.’

  ‘Hval Ti?’ I cried.

  He nodded and picked up his drink. ‘That’s right. He went straight along to see Lovaas. What do you make of that, skipper?’

  I sat back trying to think it out. ‘He might have some sort of hold on Lovaas,’ Dick suggested. ‘It’s clear Lovaas hasn’t spent all his life catching whales.’

  ‘Jorgensen is more likely than Dahler to have a hold on him,’ I answered. ‘We’ll have a little chat with our friend when he comes back.’

  It was over an hour before Dahler returned. And then we had to put him to bed. He was completely drunk. ‘Aquavit on top of whisky,’ Curtis said smelling his breath. ‘We’ll get nothing out of him for an hour or two.’

  Back in the saloon Curtis said, ‘Sunde is the man we want to see.’

  I nodded. ‘If anyone knows where Schreuder is, he does.’

  ‘Would he have told Captain Lovaas, do you think?’ Jill asked.

  ‘No,’ I replied. ‘I don�
��t think so.’ I was thinking of the scene at the midday meal with Sunde nervously trying to avoid Lovaas’s questions. ‘And if Lovaas had known then he would have adopted a different attitude when he came on board this evening. Lovaas knows something. But it isn’t the whereabouts of Schreuder.’

  Curtis refilled his glass. ‘The way I see it,’ he said, ‘Sunde could be made to talk.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ I asked.

  ‘He wouldn’t tell Lovaas anything at Bovaagen. He was safe there in the village. But if he returns here—’ He looked at me significantly and raised his glass. ‘After that little pep talk from Dahler, Lovaas will stop at nothing. He’ll get hold of Sunde and wring the truth out of him somehow.’

  I had been thinking the same thing. I suddenly made up my mind. It was a long time since I’d had to do things this way. I helped myself to a cigarette and pushed the tin across to the others. ‘It will be high tide in about an hour,’ I said. ‘That means the current will be slack in the cutting behind the whaling station. We leave our berth here and make a show of putting on sail as though we were off to Fjaerland. Once outside the islands, we double back and drift up the cut behind the factory. We wait for Sunde there.’

  Curtis nodded. ‘You’re gambling on Sunde having rowed to Bovaagen.’

  ‘I’m certain there should have been two boats in that inlet we saw this afternoon,’ I said. ‘That length of rope trailing in the water—’