by W E Johns
Tommy thought for a moment. ‘I’ll talk under certain conditions,’ he decided.
‘What conditions have you in mind?’
‘That I’m left alone afterwards.’
‘I can’t give you any guarantee of that at the moment. I’ve already said, I’ll do what I can. That’s the only reason why I’m here. We’ll talk about that later. If we catch Raulstein, are you prepared to give evidence against him? In other words, turn Queen’s Evidence?’
‘Yes. I’ll do that. I’d see him hanged, the dirty murderer.’
‘Fair enough. Now you’re talking sense. When did you last see him?’
‘The morning I left Rankinton. That’s the village where Campbell took us. I’ve just remembered the name of the place. I was only there for one night. In the morning I walked out and I didn’t see either Raulstein or Campbell again. I’d had all I wanted of that swine Raulstein. Besides—’ Tommy smiled faintly— ‘I thought he might remember I’d still got that ring Lew Darris dropped. He’d have made me hand it over — or else. He’d still got his gun.’
‘And you haven’t seen or heard of him since?’
‘No.’
‘Did you get the impression that he intended to stay on at Rankinton?’
‘Of course. He said so. His idea, he told me, was to pinch a boat and go back to the island to collect the swag. If necessary we’d tell Campbell about it, get him to take us across, then bump him off and take his boat. I wasn’t standing for that, but of course I didn’t tell him so.’
‘But Raulstein didn’t know where the swag was.’
‘He reckoned he’d be able to find it. It couldn’t be far from the cabin.’
‘Could he find it?’
‘Without me he hadn’t a hope.’ Tommy, having started, was talking more freely.
‘I see,’ continued Biggles. ‘Now about this island — Marten Island.’
‘That’s what Campbell called it. We didn’t know.’
‘What sort of place is it? Can you give me a description? What I’m really trying to get at is, since someone may have to go there, is there any place where a plane might land?’
‘Are you thinking of flying there?’ asked Tommy, looking surprised.
‘If I was sent I would prefer to fly provided there was a place to get down.’
‘Well, in a way it’s a bit unusual. Most islands I’ve seen are flat round the coast and rise up to a hill in the middle. Marten Island goes the other way. Round the outside it’s rocky and hilly, mostly cliffs, but the middle seems to be a sort of basin, like a big crater. I didn’t see much of it, but from what I remember it’s mostly flat, with the ground soft and boggy, with rushes in places as if there was a lake there sometime. There still may be one in the spring or early summer when the snow melts. We were there in the autumn, but Campbell did say something about his most difficult time being the winter because of the snow. That was one of the reasons why he’d built the log cabin, in case he got stuck.’
‘Why did he go to the island at all in winter if the weather could be as bad as that?’
‘He had to go to put down food for his foxes so they didn’t starve to death, which they might as there wasn’t much natural food there for ‘em except dead fish washed up on the beaches. They get a certain amount of protection from the weather in the woods, which are nearly all fir trees, growing pretty close together.’
Dusty put in a word. ‘You said something to me about fog.’
‘That’s right. It was foggy on and off most of the time we were there. Campbell said the whole coast was foggy.’
‘It would be,’ murmured Biggles. ‘This flat area in the middle of the island you spoke about. Would it be possible to land a plane on it?’
‘I don’t know much about flying, but I reckon it should be possible if the plane was a small one. I couldn’t imagine a big jet landing there; the ground wouldn’t be long enough for that. But why bother with the island? What’s wrong with landing at Rankinton on the mainland? It’s only just across the water. There’s an aerodrome there.’
Biggles’ eyebrows went up. ‘An aerodrome!’
‘Yes, I saw it. But I don’t know if it’s a public one.’
‘How does that happen?’
‘It’s a local post for the Mounties — you know, the Canadian Mounted Police — when they’re working in the district. They use more planes now than horses, so Campbell told us. There’s a radio station there, too. No doubt they’d let you use the place, you being a copper, even if it’s only for official use. I saw a plane land when I was there. A small one. A Mountie got out. Smart feller. I asked him to give me a lift to some place, but he said he wasn’t allowed to do that.’
‘Did you say anything to him about Raulstein, or how you happened to be there?’
‘Not me,’ stated Tommy cogently. ‘I didn’t fancy being thrown into quod in Canada; it’s bad enough here.’
‘As far as you know Raulstein stayed on in Rankinton with the object of going back to the island for the swag?’
‘I reckon he wouldn’t leave without it.’
‘But you don’t think he’s got much chance of finding it?’
‘Not an earthly. Even if he knew the stuff had been pushed down a hole, it’d take him the rest of his life to dig out all the holes on that perishing island, and still he might not find it.’
‘But you could go straight to the spot?’
‘I put it where it is, didn’t I? No one else knows.’
‘That brings me to what is perhaps the most important question of all,’ Biggles said seriously. ‘If I was ordered to fly out to bring the stuff home, would you come with me and show me the place?’
‘That needs thinking about,’ replied Tommy, reverting to his earlier attitude of suspicion and mistrust. ‘As I see it, knowing what I know is the only trump card I hold against being nicked.’
‘Don’t fool yourself, Tommy,’ advised Biggles sternly. ‘You hang on to that trump too long and you may find yourself in the nick anyway. Remember, there’s been a witness to this conversation. You’re in no position to dictate terms to the police.’
‘The jewels were insured, weren’t they?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the insurance company have offered the usual reward for their recovery. What’s wrong with me going to the insurance people and letting ‘em know I could tell ‘em where the jewels are?’
‘You say what’s wrong? There’s quite a lot wrong. I think you’ve forgotten something,’ Biggles said. ‘You’ll find the reward is offered for the return of the stolen property and the conviction of the guilty party. No conviction, no reward. That’s a very different cup of tea. The money wouldn’t be much use to you if you found yourself inside doing a ten-year stretch. What are you going to do about that?’
Tommy’s face fell. ‘I should have known there’d be a trick in it,’ he muttered bitterly.
Dusty came in again. ‘You might as well come clean, lad. It’ll pay you in the long run. Trust the police to give you a square deal. You’ve gone too far, anyhow, to back out now. That’s right, sir, isn’t it?’ Dusty looked at Biggles.
‘That’s about the size of it,’ Biggles answered. ‘How about it, Tommy?’
‘I’m not really thinking of any reward,’ declared Tommy. ‘All I want is to be left alone.’
Biggles shrugged. ‘Well, it’s in your own hands. Please yourself. I’ll leave you to think it over. There’s no great hurry.’ He got up. ‘That’s all for now. I’ll come back later to see what you’ve decided to do. One final word of advice. Don’t try to run away. You wouldn’t get far. If you did you’d take your problem with you and you’d have to carry it for the rest of your life.’
‘That’s what I keep telling him,’ said Dusty as he saw Biggles and Ginger to the door.
Outside, as they got into the car, Ginger observed: ‘A hard nut to crack.’
‘All nuts can be cracked if you squeeze ‘em hard enough,’ returned Biggles. ‘Don�
��t worry. He isn’t a fool. Unless I’m mistaken he’s got enough common sense to see which way the wind blows and not try to go against it. Dusty will do his best to see he does that.’
‘I could see at once he’d made up his mind to be awkward.’
‘Not so much awkward as obstinate. We can all be that on occasion. I had to take a chance and be firm with him, knowing he’d either come round and be co-operative, or dig his toes in still harder, in which case we’d have got nothing out of him. As it happened it worked. Having broken the ice, he’ll be all right with me from now on. The rest depends on how the Home Office decides to deal with him. That will either make or break him. He’s not a bad lad. You might call him a victim of circumstances. We shall see.’ Biggles drove on.
CHAPTER 5
BIGGLES SPEAKS HIS MIND
BIGGLES did not see his Chief again that day, but the following morning he was called to his office.
‘Well, how did you get on?’ inquired the Air Commodore. ‘Did you see young Miller?’
‘Yes, sir. He was inclined to be difficult at first; that was to be expected. He has no reason to love us. But at the finish, with careful handling, he was as open as I could have wished.’
‘What did you make of him; his general character, as a type?’
‘I’d say inherently he’s as straight as a gun barrel. But for that unfortunate incident of the stolen car, he would never have gone off the rails. That was the cause of all the trouble that followed.’
‘In what sort of mood did you leave him?’
‘On the whole, good, although still a trifle suspicious of our intentions. Once he realized I hadn’t come to jump on him, he seemed to be glad to have the opportunity to get the whole business off his chest.’
‘Did he make demands?’
‘Not exactly demands; but in return for coming clean, be obviously expects to be treated leniently.’
‘Did he tell you where the stolen goods were hidden?’
‘I already knew that. He pushed them down a foxhole; but as apparently the whole island is a honeycomb of holes, it would be difficult for him to pin-point the actual one. He’d have to go with a recovery party to point it out, or the search might take weeks, or even months.’
‘I see,’ returned the Air Commodore thoughtfully. ‘I have a reason for asking these questions. Yesterday, after seeing you, I had a long talk with the Chief Commissioner and explained the position to him. His first reaction was to issue a warrant right away for the arrest of young Miller.’
‘That’s what I thought might happen,’ Biggles said sadly. ‘Well, you do that and you’ll have a prisoner; but you’ll never see the diamonds. Miller would close up like an oyster; which means you’d never have a case against Raulstein, even if you caught him.’
The Air Commodore raised a hand. ‘Gently. There’s no need to go off at the deep end. What I said was the Chief’s first reaction. On consideration he had second thoughts. That doesn’t mean he’s prepared to overlook what Miller has done. Nor will he bargain with him. Not for a moment. That’s out. Definitely.’
‘Then what is he prepared to do?’
‘He’s willing to go a little way. To hold his hand before making a final decision. In short, if Miller will produce the stolen property and make a full statement as to how it came into his possession, he will review the whole case in the most favourable light possible in the circumstances. How’s that?’
Biggles did not answer.
‘You could hardly expect him to do more,’ said the Air Commodore.
Biggles agreed.
‘Miller can’t expect to get off scot-free,’ persisted the Air Commodore.
‘I don’t see why not,’ argued Biggles. ‘No self-confessed criminal ever made a more determined effort to do the right thing. Put him in prison, no matter for how short a time, and where does that get you? All that would do would be to make him a criminal for the rest of his days. Oh yes, I know the law, and I realize it has to take a rigid line; but that shouldn’t mean there could never be an exception. After all, what are we trying to do — make criminals or prevent people from going crooked?’
The Air Commodore ignored the question. ‘It has been suggested that you fly out to Labrador and bring home the jewellery. In view of what you tell me, that, it seems, would mean taking Miller with you.’
‘It would, otherwise it would be a waste of time to go there,’ stated Biggles. ‘But if the idea is to let Miller fetch the stuff, and arrest him when he’s handed it over, you can get somebody else to go because I’ll have nothing to do with it. To gain his confidence and then rat on him at the finish... What sort of low-down hound would that make me?’
The Air Commodore looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m afraid it’s the best bargain he’ll get.’
Biggles’ forehead puckered in a frown. ‘Bargain! Did you say bargain? For whom? For us, perhaps. But it takes two to make a bargain, and if I’m any judge of a man, young Miller isn’t likely to jump at this one. And I can’t say I’d blame him.’
‘What don’t you like?’
‘It’s too one-sided. We’d get information we’d never otherwise have had; we collect a fortune in jewels and the evidence we need to convict a man known to be a murderer. What does Miller get out of it? Nothing, as far as I can see.’
‘He may get his liberty.’
‘I don’t like the word may. Does he get it or doesn’t he? If he does it’s only what he’s got already. By accepting our terms, which smell like an ultimatum, he’s more likely to lose it.’
‘They aren’t my terms,’ retorted the Air Commodore.
‘I don’t care whose terms they are. They leave a nasty taste in my mouth.’
‘Be careful what you say, Bigglesworth,’ warned the Air Commodore stiffly. ‘Which side are you on?’
‘It isn’t a matter of taking sides, sir. I believe in giving a man a fair deal.’
‘Is this what you want to tell the Chief Commissioner?’
‘That’s up to you, sir.’
‘If I repeat what you’ve said, he may send someone else to fetch the jewels.’
‘That’d suit me, sir,’ replied Biggles bluntly. ‘I’m not straining at the leash to take on a sub-polar flight. Let someone else go. I wish him joy in trying to persuade Tommy Miller to show him his foxhole if he smells a rat in it as well as a bag of swag.’
‘You’re in one of your difficult moods,’ sighed the Air Commodore.
‘I’m being myself, sir; and you’ve known me long enough to be aware that I don’t take kindly to any sort of underhand play.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ the Air Commodore said. ‘I’ll have another word with the Chief—’
‘Please don’t get unpopular with him on my account.’
‘What exactly do you want?’
‘I want his word that if I take Miller to Labrador and bring home the stolen property, he will not be arrested on his return. It’s as simple as that. Of course, should he then go to the police on his own account and ask to be taken into custody, it would be a different matter.’
‘I’ll tell the Chief what you say, although that may mean a rap on the knuckles for both of us, for threatening insubordination,’ offered the Air Commodore. ‘Meanwhile you might speak to young Miller again to see how he feels about it.’
‘I’ll do that, sir, although as he has already told me all he knows, and what he thinks, I can’t see what good that will do.’
‘At the same time I’ll get in touch with Canada to see how they feel about all this. Let’s leave it at that for the time being. I’ll let you know when I have anything definite to tell you,’ concluded the Air Commodore.
‘Fair enough, sir.’
Biggles departed.
CHAPTER 6
MIXED NEWS
‘LAND-HO!’ SO sang police pilot Bertie Lissie, sitting beside Biggles in the control cabin of the Merlin, the twin-engined 8-seater aircraft on the establishment of the Air Police for long-d
istance operations.
‘I’m relieved to see it,’ stated Biggles calmly. ‘I’m never comfortable when there’s nothing but water under me, particularly when the water is as cold as it must be here. You might go aft and let the others know we’re nearly there.’
The others, in the main cabin, consisted of Ginger and the only civilian passenger, Tommy Miller.
Bertie conveyed the message and returned.
‘All we have to do now is find Rankinton and the landing ground which Tommy says is there, near the village,’ remarked Biggles.
‘That should not be too difficult, old boy,’ replied Bertie brightly.
‘It may not be too easy,’ Biggles said seriously. ‘I’ve had some experience at this sort of caper, trying to find something you’ve never seen, so you don’t know what it looks like from topsides.’
‘You won’t have a dekko at the island in passing?’
‘Not me! That may be even more difficult to mark. Let’s get our wheels on the ground and stretch our legs before we start fiddling with islands. I doubt if we’d find Marten Island before we make a landfall. According to the map there are scores of islands, large and small, along this stretch of coast.’
‘How about Tommy? He’s been there.’
‘I doubt if he’d recognize it from the air.’
Three weeks had elapsed since Biggles, in a final interview with the Air Commodore, had agreed to undertake the mission to recover the stolen jewellery. The Atlantic, as he had suggested, had been crossed in three jumps, via Iceland and Greenland, where oil and fuel tanks had been topped up. What could only be the mainland of North America was now in sight.
There had been no trouble on the way, refuelling arrangements having been made before the start with the authorities concerned. There had been no difficulty about that. Nevertheless, as Biggles had observed, it is always comforting to see the objective after a long over-water flight, particularly a stretch of ocean from which there would be little hope of rescue in the event of engine failure. True, the Merlin would have been able to hold her height on a single engine, but the strain of flying with no reserve of power would have been disquieting, to say the least.