I yawned. "What colour are they?"
"White," he said. "The biggest notes I've seen."
"You pass one of those and you're for the high jump," I said. "They changed the design of the fiver when they discovered that the Germans had forged God knows how many millions. Come to think of it, it's quite likely that those are of German manufacture."
He seemed disappointed at that, and I said, "Get some sleep; you'll be glad of it later."
He gathered his blankets and settled himself down. I lay awake, fighting off sleep, until I heard the slow, regular breathing of deep slumber, then I got up and softly made my way down the tunnel. I retrieved the Schmeisser and the clips and brought them back. I didn't know where to put them at first, then I found that the cushion I was using as a .pillow was torn and leaking stuffing. I tore out some more of the stuffing and put the gun and the clips inside. It made a hard pillow, but I didn't mind that -- if people were going to wave guns at me, I wanted one to wave back.
IV
Neither of us slept very well -- we had too much on our minds. I lay, turning restlessly, and hearing Walker doing the same until, at last, we could stand it no longer and we abandoned the pretence of sleep. It was four in the afternoon and I reckoned that the others should be starting for Varsi just about then.
We went up to the front of the tunnel and checked everything again, then settled to wait for nightfall. It could have been night then, if my watch hadn't told us otherwise, because there was no light in the tunnel except for the bright circle cast by the lamp, which quickly faded into darkness.
Walker was nervous. Twice he asked me if I heard a noise, not from the entrance but from back in the tunnel. The bodies of the men he had killed were worrying him. I told him to go back and look at them, thinking the shock treatment might do him good, but he refused to go.
At last I heard a faint noise from the entrance. I took the hammer in my hand and waited -- this might not be Coertze at all. A rock clattered and a voice said, "Halloran?"
I relaxed and blew my cheeks out. It was Coertze, Another rock clattered and I said, "Is everything all right?"
"No trouble at all," he said, furiously pulling down the screen of rocks. "The trucks are here."
Walker and I helped to push down the wall from the inside and Coertze shone a torch in my face. "Man," he said. "But you need a clean-up, ay."
I could imagine what I looked like. We had no water for washing and the dust lay heavily upon us. Francesca stood next to Coertze. "Are you all right, Mr. Halloran?"
"I'm O.K. Where are the trucks?"
She moved, barely distinguishable in the darkness. "They are back there."
"There are four Italians," said Coertze.
"Do they know what they are doing here?" I asked swiftly.
Piero loomed up. "They know that this is secret, and therefore certainly illegal," he said. "But otherwise they know nothing."
I thought about that. "Tell two of them to go down to the caravan, strike camp, and then wait there. Tell them to keep a watch on the road and to warn us if anyone comes up. The other two must go into the hills overlooking the mine, one to the left, the other to the right. They must watch for anyone coming across country. This is the tricky part and we don't want anyone surprising us when the gold is in the open."
Piero moved away and I heard him giving quick instructions. I said, "The rest of us will start work inside. Bring the timber from the trucks."
The trucks were all right, bigger than we needed. One of them was loaded with lengths of rough boxwood and there were also some crude crates that would do for putting the loose stuff in. We hauled out the wood and took it into the tunnel, together with the tools -- a couple of saws, four hammers and several packets of nails -- and we started to nail covers on to the bullion boxes, changing their shape and character.
With four of us it went quickly and, as we worked, we developed an assembly-line technique. Walker sawed the wood into the correct lengths, Coertze nailed on the bottoms and the tops, I put on the sides and Piero put on the ends. Francesca was busy transferring the jewels and the gold trivia from the original boxes into the crates.
Within three hours we had finished and all there was left to do was to take the boxes outside and load them into the trucks.
I rolled my blankets and took my pillow outside and thrust them behind the driving-seat of one of the trucks -- that disposed of the Schmeisser very nicely.
The boxes were heavy but Coertze and Piero had the muscle to hoist them vertically into the trucks and to stow them neatly. Walker and I used the chain again to pull the boxes through the narrow entrance. Francesca produced some flasks of coffee and a pile of cut sandwiches and we ate and drank while we worked. She certainly believed in feeding the inner man.
At last we were finished. I said, "Now we must take away from the tunnel everything we have brought here. We mustn't leave a scrap of evidence that we have been here, not a thing that can be traced back to us."
So we all went back into the tunnel and collected everything -- blankets, cushions, tools, torches, flasks, even the discarded bent nails and the fragments of stuffing from the torn cushions. All this went outside to be stowed in the trucks and I stayed behind to take one last look round. I picked up a length of wood that had been forgotten and turned to leave.
Then it happened.
Coertze must have been hasty in shoring up the last bit of the entrance -- he had seen the gold and his mind wasn't on his job. As I turned to leave, the piece of timber I was carrying struck the side of the entrance and dislodged a rock. There was a warning creak and I started to run -- but it was too late.
I felt a heavy blow on my shoulder which drove me to my knees. There was a rumble of falling rock and then I knew no more.
V
I came round fuzzily, hearing a voice, "Halloran, are you all right? Halloran!"
Something soft touched my cheek and then something cold and wet. I groaned and opened my eyes but everything was hazy. The back of my head throbbed and waves of pain washed forward into my eyes.
I must have passed out again, but the next time I opened my eyes things were clearer. I heard Coertze saying, "Can you move your legs, man; can you move your legs?"
I tried. I didn't understand why I should move my legs but I tried. They seemed to move all right so, dizzily, I tried to get up. I couldn't! There was a weight on my back holding me down.
Coertze said, "Man, now, take it easy. We'll get you out of there, ay."
He seemed to move away and then I heard Francesca's voice. "Halloran, you must stay quiet and not move. Can you hear me?"
"I can hear you," I mumbled. "What happened?" I found it difficult to speak because the right side of my face was lying on something rough and hard.
"You are pinned down by a lot of rock," she said. "Can you move your legs?"
"Yes, I can move my legs."
She went away and I could hear her talking to someone. My wits were coming back and I realised that I was lying prone with a heavy weight on my back and my head turned so that my right cheek was lying on rock. My right arm was by my side and I couldn't move it; my left arm was raised, but it seemed to be wedged tight.
Francesca came back and said, "Now, you must listen carefully. Coertze says that if your legs are free then you are only held in your middle. He is going to get you out, but it will be very slow and you mustn't move. Do you understand?"
"I understand," I said.
"How do you feel? Is there pain?" Her voice was low and gentle.
"I feel sort of numb," I said, "All I feel is a lot of pressure on my back."
"I've got some brandy. Would you like some?"
I tried to shake my head and found it impossible. "No," I said. "Tell Coertze to get cracking."
She went away and Coertze came back. "Man," he said. "You're in a spot, ay. But not to worry, I've done this sort of thing before. All you have to do is keep still."
He moved and then I heard the scrape
of rock and there was a scattering of dust on my face.
It took a long time. Coertze worked slowly and carefully, removing rocks one at a time, testing each one before he took it away. Sometimes he would go away and I would hear a low-voiced conversation, but he always came back to work again with a slow patience.
At last he said, "It won't be long now."
He suddenly started to shovel away rocks with more energy and the weight on my back eased. It was a wonderful feeling. He said, "I'm going to pull you out now. It might hurt a bit."
"Pull away," I said.
He grasped my left arm and tugged. I moved. Within two minutes I was in the open air looking at the fading stars. I tried to get up, but Francesca said, "Lie still."
Dawn was breaking and there was enough light to see her face as she bent over me. The winged eyebrows were drawn down in a frown as her hands pressed gently on my body testing for broken bones. "Can you turn over?" she asked.
It hurt, but I turned on to my stomach and heard the rip as she cut away my shirt. Then I heard the sudden hiss of her breath. "Your back is lacerated badly," she said.
I could guess how badly. Her hands were soft and gentle as they moved over my back. "You haven't broken anything," she said in wonderment.
I grinned. To me it felt as though my back was broken and someone had built a fire on it, but to hear that there were no broken bones was good. She tore some cloth and began to bind the wounds and when she had finished I sat up.
Coertze held out a baulk of six-by-six. "You were damned lucky, man. This was across your back and kept the full weight of the rock off you."
I said, "Thanks, Kobus."
He coloured self-consciously and looked away. "That's all right -- Hal," he said. It was the first time he had ever called me Hal.
He looked at the sky. "We had better move now." He appealed to Francesca. "Can he move?"
I got to my feet slowly. "Of course I can move," I said. Francesca made a sudden gesture which I ignored. "We've got to get out of here."
I looked at the tunnel. "You'd better bring down the rest of that little lot and make a good job of it. Then we'll leave."
Coertze went off towards the tunnel, and I said, "Where's Walker?"
Piero said, "He is sitting in a truck."
"Send him down to the caravan, and whistle up your other two boys -- they can go with him. They can all leave now for Rapallo."
Piero nodded and went away. Francesca said, "Hadn't you better rest a little?"
"I can rest in Rapallo. Can you drive one of those?" I nodded towards a truck. "Of course."
"Good. Coertze and Piero can take one; we'll take the other. I might not be able to manage the driving part, though."
I didn't want Piero and Francesca alone, and I wanted Walker to keep a watch on the other Italians. Of course, I could have gone as passenger with Piero, but if he tried anything rough I was no match for him in my beat-up condition. Coertze could cope with him -- so that left me with Francesca.
"I can manage," she said.
There was a rumble from the tunnel as Coertze pulled in the entrance, sealing it for ever, I hoped. He came back and I said, "You go with Piero in that truck; he'll be back in a minute. And don't tail me too close; we don't want to look like a convoy."
He said, "Think you'll be all right?"
"I'll be O.K." I said, and walked stiffly towards the truck in which I had left my gear. It was a painful business getting into the cab, but I managed in the end and rested gingerly in the seat, not daring to lean back. Francesca swung easily into the driving seat and slammed the door. She looked at me and I waved my hand. "Off we go."
She started the engine and got off badly by grinding the gears, and we went bouncing down the road from the mine, the rising sun shining through the windscreen.
The journey back to Rapallo was no joy-ride for me. The truck was uncomfortable as only trucks can be at the best of times, and for me it was purgatory because I was unable to lean back in the seat. I was very tired, my limbs were sore and aching, and my back was raw. Altogether I was not feeling too bright.
Although Francesca had said that she could drive the truck, she was not doing too well. She was used to the synchromesh gears of a private car and had a lot of trouble in changing the gears of the truck. To take my mind off my troubles we slowed down and I taught her how to double-declutch and after that things went easier and we began to talk.
She said, "You will need a doctor, Mr. Halloran."
"My friends call me Hal," I said.
She glanced at me and raised her eyebrows. "Am I a friend now?"
"You didn't kick me in the teeth when I was stuck in the tunnel," I said. "So you're my friend."
She slanted her eyes at me. "Neither did Coertze."
"He still needs me. He can't get the gold out of Italy without me."
"He was very perturbed," she agreed. "But I don't think he had the gold on his mind." She paused while she negotiated a bend. "Walker had the gold on his mind, though. He sat in a truck all the time, ready to drive away quickly. A contemptible little man."
I was too bemused by my tiredness to take in the implications of all this. I sat watching the ribbon of road unroll and I lapsed into an almost hypnotic condition. One of the things which fleetingly passed through my mind was that I hadn't seen the cigarette case which Walker had spoken of many years previously -- the cigarette case which Hitler was supposed to have presented to Mussolini at the Brenner Pass in 1940.
I thought of the cigarette case once and then it passed from my mind, not to return until it was too late to do anything about it.
VI. METCALFE
The next day I felt better.
Everybody had got back to Palmerini's boatyard without untoward happenstance and we had moved into the big shed that was reserved for us. The trucks had been unloaded and returned to their owners with thanks, and the caravan stayed in a corner to provide cooking and sleeping space But I was in no shape to do much work, so Walker and Coertze went to bring Sanford from the yacht basin, after I had checked on Metcalfe and Torloni. Francesca spoke to Palmerini and soon a procession of Italians slipped into the yard to make their reports. They spoke seriously to Francesca and ducked out again, obviously delighting in their return to the role of partisans.
When she had absorbed all they could tell her, Francesca came to me with a set face. "Luigi is in hospital," she said unhappily. "They broke his skull."
Poor Luigi. Torloni's men had not bothered to bribe him, after all. The harbour police were searching for the assailants but had had no success; and they wanted to see me to find out what had been stolen. As far as they were concerned it was just another robbery.
Francesca had an icy coldness about her. "We know who they were," she said. "They will not walk out of Rapallo on their own legs."
"No," I said. "Leave them alone." I didn't want to show my hand yet because, with any luck, Metcalfe and Torloni might have fallen for the story I had planted. And for some reason, not yet clearly defined in my mind, I didn't want Franceses openly associated with us -- she would still have to live in Italy when we had gone.
"Don't touch them," I said. "We'll take care of them later What about Metcalfe and Torloni?"
They were still in Genoa and saw each other every day. When they had found out that we had disappeared from Rapallo they had rushed up another three men, making five in all. Metcalfe had pulled the Fairmile from the water and Krupke was busy repainting the bottom. The Arab, Moulay Idriss, had vanished; no one knew where he was, but he was certainly not in Rapallo.
That all seemed satisfactory -- except for the reinforcement of Torloni's men in Rapallo. I called Coertze and told him what was happening. "When you go to get Sanford tell the police that I've had a climbing accident, and that I'm indisposed. Make a hell of a fuss about the burglary, just as though you were an honest man. Go to the hospital, see Luigi and tell him that his hospital bill will be paid and that he'll get something extra for damages."
Coertze said, "Let me donner those bastards. They needn't have hit that old man."
"Don't go near them," I said. "I'll let you loose later, just before we sail."
He grumbled but held still, and he and Walker went to see what damage had been done to Sanford. After they had gone I had a talk with Piero. "You heard about Luigi?"
He pulled down his mouth. "Yes, a bad business -- but just like Torloni."
I said, "I am thinking we might need some protection here."
"That is taken care of," he said. "We are well guarded."
"Does Francesca know about this?"
He shook his head. "Women do not know how to do these things -- I will tell Madame when it is necessary. But this boatyard is well guarded; I can call on ten men within fifteen minutes."
"They'll have to be strong and tough men to fight Torloni's gangsters."
His face cracked into a grim smile. "Torloni's men know nothing," he said contemptuously. "The men I have called are fighting men; men who have killed armed Germans with their bare hands. I would feel sorry for Torloni's gang were it not for Luigi."
I felt satisfied at that. I could imagine the sort of dock rats Torloni would have working for him; they wouldn't stand a chance again disciplined men accustomed to military tactics.
I said, "Remember, we want no killing."
"There will be no killing if they do not start it first. After that . . . ?" He shrugged. "I cannot be responsible for the temper of the men."
I left him and went into the caravan to clean and oil the Schmeisser. The tunnel had been dry and the gun hadn't taken much harm. I was more dubious about the ammunition; wondering if the charges behind the bullets had suffered chemical deterioration over the past fifteen years. That was something I would find out when the shooting started.
But perhaps there would be no shooting. There was a fair chance that Metcalfe and Torloni knew nothing of our connection with the partisans -- I had worked hard enough to cover it. If Torloni attacked he would get the surprise of his life, but I hoped he wouldn't -- I didn't want the Italians involved too much.
Bagley, Desmond - The Golden Keel Page 16