A Cleft Of Stars

by Geoffrey Jenkins

  'Don't you carry a gun?' I asked. 'I don't want that brute to get out of hand once it comes close to blood.'

  I handed the rifle to Nadine to have my hands free for Talbot but I was a fool to part with it. Immediately Praeger stepped forward and took the weapon from her. 'It is not necessary, I assure you. My words to Dika are stronger than bullets.'

  The way he slipped the shell out of the breech showed he knew all about guns. He went on to take out the magazine and made play of returning the spare cartridge to the clip. The gun he laid aside. It was a smart piece of opportunism which increased my misgivings.

  I still hesitated but there was nothing I could do about it. I turned, went inside, and dragged Talbot's bed out into the open. Von Praeger disregarded my instructions to stay out. He was close to the cave entrance with Nadine when I reappeared, staring about him inquisitively. I deliberately held the torch at his eyes to prevent his seeing the interior, and brought Talbot well away for the same reason.

  'Here he is.'

  In the flashlight's beam the pilot looked far worse than before. His face was deadly pale and blood had spread through his bandages. Praeger undid the dressings with short, competent fingers. I began to wonder how I would explain Rankin's injury when his turn came..

  'Gunshot, yes?'

  I didn't like the way Praeger regarded me.

  'Yes, gunshot. That Mauser you unloaded just now.'

  'He's lost a lot of blood. No wonder Dika picked up his trail so strongly. You must have brought him across the rocks here?'

  Inwardly I cursed the hyena for revealing our hideaway. '

  Yes. I carried him. His plane crashed on the hill slope where you saw the marks of fire.'

  'Before or after the shot?'

  'The result of.

  'I see.'

  'I was with him,' added Nadine. 'It happened this way . . 'The story can wait,' I broke in. The first thing is to establish what must be done for him.'

  Von Praeger left off for a moment and eyed us both. I could not help feeling there was some hidden triumph behind his scrutiny.

  'A doctor is called upon to perform many strange tasks,' he said in a neutral, professional voice.

  He sounded Talbot's heart perfunctorily by putting his ear against his chest. He turned him over, as I had done, to find where the bullet had emerged. Finally he rolled the pilot on to his back again.

  'He is bad, very bad. Dying, in fact.'

  Nadine caught her breath. 'Please - is there nothing you can do, Doctor? He did me a great service.'

  'How did it happen?'

  I resented his continued probing and said shortly, 'Is the history of how he was wounded of any importance in treating it, Doctor?'

  'It might be,' he fenced. 'It's a very strange set-up here.'

  'No stranger than a man having a hyena for a pet,' I retorted. 'No stranger than . . I bit back my annoyance. I wasn't going to play into his hands by giving away what I knew about the dead guard and the suspicion I nursed about the impossibility of his aircraft having landed near The Hill. We glared at one another but now it wasn't the same as having a stranger at the wrong end of my gun. He was calling the shots; I was on the defensive.

  Then a deep groan came from the interior of the cave. Von Praeger swung round, startled. What's that–more casualties?'

  'Yes,' I replied without elaborating. 'One more'

  He was about to make for the cave when I stopped him.

  'Stay here. I'll bring him out to you. It's a different sort of injury, as you'll see. It was he who fired that bullet.' I indicated Talbot's wound.

  I grew unhappier still about Praeger. It was nothing concrete but a matter of undercurrents, of straws in the wind. So far he'd been medically correct, if not enthusiastic, in his examination. If it had not been for the hyena sitting like an indictment at the command-post's entrance I would have had little firm ground for apprehension.

  I brought out Rankin on the stretcher, he was beginning to stir. Nadine held the light for von Praeger. He gave a low whistle.

  'This is a hideous blow. He's lucky still to be alive.' '

  He ran into something?

  'The chest cavity is smashed.' He explored cautiously round the wound. He pointed. 'A little pressure here and his heart would stop. One could do it easily with one's fingers'

  Nadine shivered. 'We wanted to move them both to Messina hospital but we haven't a vehicle.'

  'No vehicle! It all grows curiouser and curiouser, as your English classic says,' he remarked sardonically, 'I am the doctor and am therefore automatically implicated. That doesn't mean to say I intend to be incriminated. Either of these men could die – soon.'

  By inferring that it was a police matter he'd managed to put moral right on his side too. My objective narrowed down to one thing: to have Rankin talk, and as soon as possible. And for that I needed Praeger's help.

  My gorge rose at the sight of his smug little smile.

  'Do what you can for them, leave the explanations to me,' I said shortly.

  'Very well. The flier first. His wound is very similar to that which killed your English hero Lord Nelson. The bullet is lodged against the spine. Already he is paralysed and if he lives he will never walk again. The bullet must be removed.

  First, however, I must find out exactly how deep it is and whether there are any splinters. The proper instrument would be a surgical probe.

  'Would a knife do?'

  'No. The blade is too broad. I need something long and thin and sharp. He won't feel a thing – he's too deeply unconscious.' I felt in my pocket and held out the diamond pencil. I looked back into the mouth of a pistol.

  The barrel was unsteady and von Praeger looked as if he had seen a ghost. I should have jumped him before he brought up his other hand to steady his aim. I think, however, that what I had already been through with Rankin had punished my reflexes. Afterwards, too, I realized that the pistol must have been harmless because the quick draw from his pocket had probably snugged home to 'safe' the awkward catch of the heavy Russian war-time Tula Tokarev.

  'Where,' he asked in a strained, high voice, 'Where is the hyena's blanket?'

  I simply couldn't credit what was happening. If it hadn't been for the reality of the blue-black mouth of the automatic I might have been tempted to flippancy at the way-out question.

  I remained silent; Nadine was also stunned speechless. Von Praeger got to his feet and moved behind Talbot's bed to use it as a barrier against attack. The pistol became rocksteady and he blinked his eyes rapidly; there was a glassiness about them and he stumbled over his order to Nadine.

  'Put that torch on the bed. Facing your friend. Out of my eyes.'

  Nadine remained rooted still, staring incredulously at the gun.

  'Get on with it!' he snapped hoarsely. 'Schnell!'

  'Do as he says, Nadine,' I said quietly, 'and then come here.' '

  No! Keep away from him!' He waved the gun at the

  diamond pencil which I still held extended in my hand. Don't come close with that thing, do you hear? Throw it at my feet. No tricks!'

  There was no alternative so I lobbed it carefully on to-the end of Talbot's bed. Von Praeger bent to pick it up and I missed another chance. He seemed spellbound by the ancient tool and for a second took his eyes from me, but before I awoke to my opportunity he had straightened up and rammed it into his pocket.

  His eyes had their same blank, frightened look when he repeated his earlier gibberish, 'Where is the hyena's blanket?' His own hyena gave a shrill little cry like a kitten in pain. It underwrote the dream-like quality of the scene, and it was the most frightening sound I have ever heard. Nadine ignored the pistol and ran to my side.

  'Quick! Answer! Answer me!'

  'Listen, von Praeger,' I said harshly. 'I don't like being pushed around, by anyone; especially at the point of a pistol. Nor do I like people raising their voices and shouting at me –I had enough of it in one of your precious POW camps. You'

  ve thrown e
nough bloody nonsense and crazy threats around. Now put that gun away and say quietly what you have to say, and say it plainly.'

  Neither his smile nor its implication was pleasant.

  'Ah, the tough approach! You were also too tough, or too guilty, earlier to do me the courtesy of telling me your name. Allow me to remedy your omission. It is William Guybon Atherstone Bowker – yes?'

  'What has my name got to do with it?'

  His eyes blazed. 'Yes or no?' he shouted. I thought he was about to fire.

  'Yes.'

  He cringed as if a bullet had seared him and gave two or three quick intakes of breath, more like gasps than sighs. Then the steam and tension seemed to go out of him all at once. His voice was strangely flat when he spoke again and he licked his leathery lips.

  'Bowker. It had to be,' he muttered almost to himself. 'But I wasn't quite sure. Bowker . . . it's been a long, long chase.'

  He held the pistol on me while he called the hyena to him. It shambled up and he said something in German and indicated us. The brute took up guard.

  Nadine and I exchanged a swift glance. We were both convinced that Praeger was out of his mind. The gun and the hyena made the possibility of a successful attack on him very dodgy. I therefore left the next move to him. The only sound was of bats radar-pinging the cliffs in the darkness. Finally he said. 'I will take this whole place apart with my bare hands to find it. But first I will take you apart if you don't tell me.'

  'I've never heard such rubbish in my life – the hyena's blanket I '

  'Perhaps if I refresh your memory on a few points it will all come back to you. We have plenty of time. You may remember that we Germans were adept at extracting information from reluctant witnesses.'

  'You sound like the Gestapo.'

  'Not quite one of them, but certainly on the fringes of their operations. Medically it is quite fascinating to dredge information from a mind whose owner is trying to hold back at all costs. Sometimes it is at all costs.'

  'If you think you can . .

  'Bluster is always the first reaction,' he retorted calmly. '

  Later, under pressure, the patient usually becomes more amenable.' He held up his hand as I was about to explode. '

  The methods are refined; no crudities like castration, which are self-defeating; for when a man finds he has nothing more to lose it increases rather than decreases his resistance. The target is the mind ...'

  'Von Praeger!' I broke in. 'The war's finished and done with. You're not operating now with your bloody Gestapo. This is a country with plenty of law and order, as you'll soon find out if you start anything. First of all, pointing a gun is an offence, in case you don't already know it.'

  I think he must have been getting his mental breath back, so to speak, for he ignored my outburst and pulled the diamond pencil from his pocket.

  'Where'd you get this from?'

  'It was my grandfather's. It came to me in his estate. From Holland.'

  He drew his face a little to the right, as if he could see us better that way.

  'I wondered many times what had happened to it. You see, he had it in his hand the night he died. Then it disappeared. The fact that you have it is the last link in a search which I started that same night. Now the end is in sight and . . (a brief rictus showed his teeth and he gestured at us with the pistol) ‘. . . I have my fish in the net.'

  'If you saw that in my grandfather's hand when he died then you killed him,' I said slowly. 'Because he didn't die naturally. The Gestapo killed him. I know that much.'

  'True,' he replied almost conversationally. 'The Gestapo was responsible. That is where the hyena's blanket comes in. Your grandfather was a spy . .

  'A patriot.'

  'What you call him depends purely upon whose side you are,' he replied levelly. 'I say he was a spy. The Gestapo intercepted a radio message from him to the Dutch government in exile. The code was amateurish as one would expect from an amateur. But the key to its meaning was a phrase which completely defeated them – "the hyena's blanket!".'

  'They probably misread it.'

  He shook his head. 'I think not. The only codebreaker in the war better than the Gestapo was the British Admiralty. It was hyena's blanket all right. The rest of the message was plain – all about providing finance for the Dutch to continue the fight in exile. Since Erasmus was a diamond dealer, it didn't require much imagination to know he was referring to diamonds. But,' and he squinted at us again, 'it would require one hell of a lot of diamonds to keep a whole government going in exile. And that's what Erasmus meant.'

  'This has nothing to do with me or with Nadine.'

  'No?' The pistol was rock-steady on us. 'It has everything, as you will realize soon. This diamond pencil proves it.'

  'I tell you . . .!' I exclaimed angrily, while a knot of fear began to form in my stomach.

  'Let me tell you,' he returned. 'The Gestapo rounded up Erasmus of course and interrogated him. Unfortunately they were too enthusiastic. The old man had a heart attack before they extracted much from him. I was called in as a doctor to try to keep him alive long enough for them to find out why he kept saying, over and over, "the hyena's blanket".'

  'You bastard!' I burst out. 'You did a harmless old man to death!'

  'Not so,' he replied. 'I used everything in my power to keep him alive. In fact, I thought at one stage I had succeeded. But he died, still moaning about the hyena's blanket.'

  I felt a cloud of greyness rise up out of the past. I had been fond of my grandfather; automatically I blamed his tragic end on diamonds.

  'I'm glad to learn the details of his death- even out of a pistol's mouth,' I said ironically. 'But I expect that when the diamonds were found the whole thing sorted itself out.'

  'On the contrary, the diamonds were not found and nothing ever sorted itself out. Until tonight.'

  I bit back a retort. Nadine stood close to me. 'Go on,' was all I said.

  'The Gestapo shrugged it off after a while just as you have done. But I wasn't satisfied. First, that diamond pencil. Why did Erasmus cling so tenaciously to it? Where did it come in? Why something so intimately associated with the Cullinan, as I later discovered? Strange to say, it vanished while I was attending him. I suspected an old servant but the Gestapo didn't consider it worth pursuing. His house and shop were searched with a fine-tooth comb, of course, but what we found was no more than what would have been expected in the normal course of business. The thing became stranger as I probed deeper. Erasmus had assisted Asscher at the cutting of the Cullinan ―that that diamond pencil again! I became more interested still when I found that Erasmus's daughter - your mother - had married the man who had actually discovered the Cullinan. What if, I asked myself, that coded message about the hyena's blanket had in fact something to do with the Cullinan?'

  'You could have checked on the Cullinan itself at any time, in the Tower of London,' I replied sarcastically. He ignored my crack. 'I became more and more interested in the Bowker family. In war-time, of course, it is difficult to follow things up and I had no way of knowing whether the famous Bowker had a son. But imagine my pleasure when I located the mother - Erasmus's own daughter - hiding in Amsterdam.'

  I felt a pinch at my heart. I guessed what might be coming.

  'We picked her up. I tried everything to persuade her to talk. But I never got a word out of her about Bowker or the Cullinan or her son, whose whereabouts she professed not to know; William Guybon Atherstone Bowker. We had to shoot her in the end.'

  'Guy! No, no!'

  Nadine grabbed me as I was about to throw myself at Praeger. I would never have got across the dozen feet which separated us. When my blind fury had subsided I started to shake with reaction. What he had related gave me the measure of his ruthlessness.

  'Thank you,' he said with a brief cynical smile at Nadine. '

  You, saved me an unpleasant task. He's worth a lot more to me sound in mind and limb than wounded. I still hope he's going to be accommodating and tell
me what the hyena's blanket means.'

  'Damn you, I don't know, I tell you!'

  'I see I'll have to help you to remember; time is, as I said before, on my side. Well, after the setback over your mother I went to work to check up exactly how Bowker and a fellow digger discovered the Cullinan.'

  'I'll let you have the press clippings,' I sneered. 'It's all been told and written about a thousand times. They thought it was a bit of broken bottle sticking out of the opencast face. Don't try to make a mystery of that.'

  'I don't have to, Bowker. The mystery was already there, built in. The Cullinan in the rough had two natural faces and a cleavage face when it was found.'

  'So what?'

  'A cleavage face, don't you understand?'

  'No.'

  He tried unsuccessfully to control the rising note in his voice.

  'If there was a cleavage face, it means that the Cullinan had been cut - before it was discovered.'

  'Even my father never dreamed that one up.'

  He edged round the bed nearer to me, the pistol held at my stomach.

  'No, he didn't dream it. He did it'

  'You're crazy!'

  He retreated to the hyena's side and fumbled with its mane, choosing his words deliberately and slowly.

  'Your father was a master-crook, Bowker. He and Rankin planted the Cullinan in the Premier Mine - salted it, to use the jargon. The cleavage face proves that the Cullinan was only part of a larger, colossal diamond' He shot out his free hand, clenching his fist. 'The Cullinan Diamond was the size of that!

  What then in the name of the Peacock Throne of the Great Moguls is the other half like?'

  His fingers went on clenching and unclenching on the animal's mane in a kind of nervous spasm but his gun hand was steady enough.

  'Where .. his words were slightly blurred like a drunk's . where is it?'

  I put an arm round Nadine's shoulders. She was trembling. but I sensed a quiver of relief at my gesture.

  'Why,' I rejoined, picking my words as carefully as he, 'don't you ask the man who found it? There he lies on the stretcher next to you. Rankin.'

  If I had thrown the Cullinan at his feet die reaction could not have been greater.