The Enemy

by Desmond Bagley

  If what I thought was correct it was well named. 'Do the people on Cladach Duillich ever come ashore here?'

  'Not at all. I haven't seen a one of them. They fly south in the helicopter and no one knows where it goes or where it comes from. Not a penny piece do they spend in Ullapool. Very secret folk they are. There's just one landing place on Cladach Duillich and they've put up a big notice about trespassers and what will be done to them.'

  I noticed that his glass was empty and wondered when he'd sunk the whisky. He must have done it when I blinked. I said, 'Have another, Mr… er…'

  'You'll have one with me.' He signalled to the barman, then said, 'My name is Archie Ferguson and it's my brother who'll be taking you out to Cladach Duillich tomorrow morn,' He smiled sardonically at my evident discomfiture, and added, 'But I doubt if you'll set foot there.'

  'I'm Malcolm Jaggard,' I said. 'And I think I will.'

  'Malcolm's a good Scots name,' said Ferguson. 'I'll drink to your success, anyway, whatever it may be."

  'There's certainly something odd about the place,' I said, 'Do you think it's another Gruinard?'

  Ferguson's face altered and for a moment he looked like the wrath of Almighty God. 'It had better not be so," he said sternly. 'If we thought it was we would take the fire to it.'

  I chewed that over together with my dinner, then made a telephone call-to Cladach Duillich. A voice said, 'How can I help you?'

  'I'd like to speak to Dr. Ashton. My name is Malcolm Jaggard.'

  'Just a moment. I'll see if she's available.'

  There was a four minute silence, then another voice said, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Jaggard, but I'm told Dr. Ashton went to the mainland and is not yet back.'

  'Where on the mainland?'

  There was a pause. 'Where are you speaking from, Mr. Jaggard?'

  'From London. Why?'

  He didn't answer the question. 'She went to Ullapool-that's our local metropolis. She said she'd like to stretch her legs; there's not much scope for walking where we are. And she wanted to shop for a few things. May I ask how you got our number?'

  'Dr. Ashton gave it to me. When do you expect her back?'

  'Oh, I don't know. The weather has closed in, so I don't think she'll be back until tomorrow morning. You could speak to her then.'

  'Where would she stay in Ullapool? I don't know the place.'

  'I really couldn't say, Mr. Jaggard. But she'll be back tomorrow with the boat.'

  'I see. May I ask who I'm speaking to?'

  'I'm Dr. Carter.'

  'Thank you, Dr. Carter. I'll ring tomorrow.'

  As I put down the telephone I reflected that someone was lying-other than myself-and I didn't think it was Archie Ferguson. But to make sure I went into the bar and found him talking to Robbie, his brother. I joined them. 'Excuse me for butting in.'

  'That's all right,' said Ferguson. 'I was just talking over with Robbie your chances of getting out to Cladach Duillich the morrow's morn.'

  I looked at Robbie. 'Is there any doubt of it?'

  'I think there'll be a wee blow,' he said. The glass is dropping as the weather forecast said. Have you a strong stomach, Mr. Jaggard?'

  'Strong enough.'

  Archie Ferguson laughed. 'You'll need one of cast iron.'

  I said, 'The people on Cladach Duillich also said the weather is closing in.'

  Archie raised his eyebrows. 'You've been talking to them! How?'

  'By telephone-how else?'

  'Aye,' said Robbie. 'They had the cable laid.' He shook his head. 'Awful expensive.'

  'A man there told me a woman came ashore today from Cladach Duillich-here in Ullapool. She's about five feet eight inches, dark hair, age twent…'

  Robbie interrupted. 'How did she come?'

  'By boat.'

  'Then she didn't come,' he said positively. 'All the comings and goings are by that bluidy helicopter. There's no boat on Cladach Duillich.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'O' course I'm sure. I pass the place twice a day, most days. You can take my word-there's no boat.'

  I had to make sure of it. 'Well, supposing she came anyway. Where would she stay in Ullapool?'

  'Ullapool's not all that big,' said Archie. 'If she's here at all we can put our hands on her-in a manner o' speaking, that is. What would be the lassie's name?'

  'Ashton-Penelope Ashton.'

  'Rest easy, Mr. Jaggard. You'll know within the hour.' He smiled genially at his brother. 'Do you not smell something awful romantic, Robbie?'

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The wind whistled about my ears as I stood on the pier at eight next morning. The sky was slate-grey and so was the loch, stippled with whitecaps whipped up by the wind. Below me Robbie Ferguson's boat pitched violently, the rubber tyre fenders squealing as they were compressed and rubbed on the stone wall. It looked much too fragile to be taken out on such a day, but Robbie seemed unconcerned. He had taken the cover off the engine and was swinging on a crank.

  Beside me, Archie Ferguson said, 'So you think the young lady is still on Cladach Duillich?'

  'I do.'

  He pulled his coat closer about him. 'Maybe we're wrong about the government,' he said. 'Could this be one of those queer religious groups we're importing from America these days? Moonies or some such? I've heard some remarkably funny things about them.'

  'No, it's not that.' I looked at my watch. 'Mr. Ferguson, could you do me a favour?'

  'If I can.'

  I estimated times. 'If I'm not back in eight hours-that's by four this afternoon-I want you to get the police and come looking for me.'

  He thought about it for a moment. 'No harm in that. What if Robbie comes back and you don't?'

  'Same thing applies. They might spin Robbie a yarn, tell him I've decided to stay. They'll be lying, but he's to accept the lie, come back here, and raise the alarm.'

  Below, the diesel engine spluttered into life and settled down into a slow and steady thumping. Archie said, 'You know, Malcolm Jaggard, I don't believe you're a journalist at all.'

  I took a card from my wallet and gave it to him. 'If I don't come back ring that number. Get hold of a man called Ogilvie and tell him about it.'

  He studied the card. 'McCulloch and Ross-and Ogilvie. It seems we Scots have taken over the City of London.' He looked up. 'But you look less like a financier than you do a journalist. What's really going on out there on Cladach Duillich?'

  'We spoke about it last night,' I said. 'And you talked of fire.'

  A bleakness came over him. 'The government would do that again?'

  'Governments are made of men. Some men would do that.'

  'Aye, and some men can pay for it.' He looked at me closely. 'Malcolm Jaggard, when you come back you and I are going to have a bit of a talk. And you can tell yon laddies on Cladach Duillich that if you don't come back we'll be bringing the fire to them. A great cleanser is fire.'

  'Stay out of it,' I said. 'It's a job for the police.'

  'Don't be daft, man. Would the police go against the government? You leave this to me.' He looked down into the boat. 'Away with you; Robbie is waiting. And I'll away and have a talk with a few of my friends.'

  I didn't argue with him. I climbed down the iron ladder which was slippery with water and seaweed and tried to time my drop into the boat to coincide with its erratic pitching. I fumbled it but was saved from sprawling full length by Robbie's strong arm.

  He looked me up and down, then shook his head. 'You'll freeze, Mr. Jaggard.' He turned and rummaged in a locker and brought out a seaman's Guernsey. 'This'll keep you warm, and this-' he gave me a pair of trousers and an anorak, both waterproof-'this'll keep you dry.'

  When I had put them on he said, 'Now sit you down and be easy.' He went forward, walking as easily in that tossing boat as another man would walk a city pavement. He cast off the forward line, then walked back, seemingly unconcerned that the bow was swinging in a great arc. As he passed the engine he pushed over a lever with his boot, then
dexterously cast off the stern line. The throbbing note of the engine deepened and we began to move away from the pier wall. Robbie was standing with the tiller between his knees, looking forward and steering by swaying motions of his body while he coiled the stern line into a neat skein.

  The wind strengthened as we got out into the loch and the waves were bigger. The wind was from the north-west and we plunged into the teeth of it. As the bow dipped downwards sheets of spray were blown aft and I appreciated the waterproofing. As it was, I knew I'd be thoroughly drenched by the time we got to Cladach Duillich.

  Presently Robbie sat down, controlling the tiller with one booted foot. He pointed, and said, 'The Coigach shore.'

  I ducked a lump of spray. 'What sort of man is your brother?'

  'Archie?' Robbie thought a bit and then shrugged. 'He's my brother.'

  'Would you call him a hot-headed man?'

  'Archie hot-headed!' Robbie laughed. 'Why, the man's as cold as an iceberg. I'm the laddie in the family to take the chances. Archie weighs everything in a balance before he does anything. Why do you ask?'

  'He was talking about what he'd do if I didn't come back from Cladach Duillich.'

  'There's one thing certain about my brother-he does what he says he'll do. He's as reliable as death and taxes.'

  That was comforting to know. I didn't know what lay ahead on Cladach Duillich, but I knew I wasn't going to get an easy answer. The knowledge that I had a reliable backstop gave me a warm feeling.

  I said, 'If I go missing on that bloody bit of rock you'll take no for an answer. You'll swallow what they tell you, then go back and see your brother.'

  He looked at me curiously. 'Are you expecting to disappear?'

  'I wouldn't be surprised.'

  He wiped the spray from his face. 'I don't ken what this is about, but Archie seems to like you, and that's enough for me. He's a thinker.'

  It was a long haul across Annat Bay towards the Summer Isles. The waves were short and deep, and the pitching was combined with rolling, giving a corkscrew motion which was nauseating. Robbie looked at me and grinned. 'We'd better talk; it'll take your mind off your belly. Look, there's Camnan Sgeir, with Eilean Dubh beyond. That's Black Island in the English.'

  'Where's Cladach Duillich?'

  'Away the other side of Eilean Dubh. We've a way to go yet.'

  'Why don't they keep a boat there? If I lived on an island it's the first thing I'd think of.'

  Robbie chuckled. 'You'll see when we get there-but I'll tell you anyway, just for the talking. There's but one place to land and a chancy place it is. There's no protection for boat or man. You can't just tie up as you can at Ullapool Pier. There'd be no boat when you got back if there was anything of a blow. It would be crushed on the rocks. I won't be waiting there for you, you know.'

  'Oh? Where will you be?'

  'Lying off somewhere within easy reach. There are more boats wrecked on land than at sea. It's the land that kills boats. I'll be doing a wee bit of fishing.'

  I looked at the jumbled sea. 'In this!'

  'Och, I'm used to it. You give me a time and I'll be there.'

  'I'll tell you now. I want exactly two hours ashore.'

  'Two hours you'll get,' he said. 'About the boat they haven't got on Cladach Duillich. When those folk first came they had a boat but it got smashed, so they got another and that was smashed. After they lost the third they began to get the idea. Then they thought that if they could take the boat ashore it would be all right, but it's an awful weary job pulling a boat ashore on Cladach Duillich because there's no beach. So they rigged davits just like on a ship and they could take the boat straight up a cliff and out of the water. Then a wave came one night and took the boat and the davits and they were never seen again. After that they gave up.'

  'It sounds a grim place.'

  'It is-in bad weather. It won't be too bad today.' I looked at the reeling seas and wondered what Robbie called bad weather. He pointed. There it is-Cladach Duillich.'

  It was just as Archie Ferguson had described it-a wee bit of rock. There were cliffs all around, not high but precipitous, and the sea boiled white underneath them. Off the island was a scattering of rocks like black fangs and I thought the people on Cladach Duillich had been right when they decided this was no place for a boat.

  As we drew nearer Robbie said, 'See that ravine? The landing place is at the bottom.'

  There was a narrow crack in the cliff face at the bottom of which the sea seemed to be calmer-relatively speaking. Robbie swung the tiller over sharply to avoid a rock which slid astern three feet off the port quarter, then he swung hard the other way to avoid another. He grinned. 'This is when you hope the engine doesn't pack in. You'd better get right forrard-you'll have to jump for it, and I won't be able to hold her there long.'

  I scrambled forward and stood right in the bows as he brought the boat in. Now I saw that the crack in the rock was wider than at first glance and there was a concrete platform built at the bottom. The engine note changed as Robbie throttled back for the final approach. It was an amazing feat, but in that swirling sea with its crosscurrents he brought her in so the bow kissed the concrete with a touch as light as a feather. At his shout I jumped and went sprawling as my feet skidded from under me on the weed-covered surface. When I picked myself up the boat was thirty yards off-shore and moving away fast. Robbie waved and I waved back, and then he applied himself to the task of avoiding rocks.

  I looked at my surroundings. The first thing I saw was the notice board Archie Ferguson had mentioned. It was weather-beaten and the paint was peeling and faded but it was still readable.

  GOVERNMENT ESTABLISHMENT

  Landing is Absolutely Prohibited By Order

  It did not say who had issued the order.

  A path led from the concrete platform up the ravine, so I followed it. It climbed steeply and led to a plateau, sparsely grassed, in the centre of which was a group of buildings. They were low concrete structures which had the appearance of military blockhouses, probably because they were windowless. From what had been said about Cladach Duillich they were the only type of building which could survive there.

  I had no more time to study the place because a man was approaching at a run. He slowed as he came closer, and said abruptly, 'Can't you read?'

  'I can read.'

  'Then clear off.'

  'The age of miracles is past, friend. Walking on the water has gone out of fashion. The boat's gone.'

  'Well, you can't stay here. What do you want?'

  'I want to talk to Dr. Carter.'

  He seemed slightly taken aback, and I studied him as he thought about it. He was big and he had hard eyes and a stubborn jaw. He said, 'What do you want to talk to Dr. Carter about?'

  'If Dr. Carter wants you to know he'll tell you,' I said pleasantly.

  He didn't like that but there wasn't much he could do about it. 'Who are you?'

  'Same thing applies. You're out of your depth, friend. Let's go and see Carter.'

  'No,' he said curtly. 'You stay here.'

  I looked at him coldly. 'Not a chance. I'm wet through and I want to dry out.' I nodded to the buildings. 'Those look as bloody inhospitable as you behave, but I'm willing to bet they're warm and dry inside. Take me to Carter.'

  His problem was that he didn't know me or my authority, but I was behaving as though I had a right to be there and making demands. He did as I thought he would and passed the buck. 'All right, follow me. You see Carter and you go nowhere else.'

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  As we walked towards the buildings I looked around at Cladach Duillich. It was not very big-about a third of a mile long and a quarter-mile across. Life had a poor existence on this rock. What grass had managed to gain a roothold was salt resistant marram, growing in crannies where a poor soil had gathered, and even the dandelions were wizened and sickly growths. The seabirds appeared to like it, though; the rocks were white with their droppings and they wheeled overhead sc
reaming at our movements below.

  There were three buildings, all identical, and I noted they were connected by enclosed passages. To one side, on a level bit of ground, was a helicopter pad, empty. I was conducted around the corner to one of the buildings and ushered through the doorway, bidden to wait, and then taken through another doorway. I looked back and realized I had gone through an airlock.

  We turned sharply left and into a room where a man in a white coat was sitting at a desk and writing on a pad. He was slightly bald, had a thin face and wore bifocals. He looked up and frowned as he saw me, then said to my escort, 'What's this, Max?'

  'I found him wandering about loose. He says he wants to see you.'

  Carter's attention switched to me. 'Who are you?'

  I glanced sideways at Max, and said smoothly, 'Who I am is for your ears only, Dr. Carter.'

  Carter sniffed. 'More cloak and dagger stuff. All right, Max. I'll take care of this.'

  Max nodded and left, and I stripped off the anorak. 'I hope you don't mind me getting out of this stuff,' I said, as I began to take off the waterproof trousers. 'Too warm for indoors.'

  Carter tapped on the desk with his pen. 'All right. Who are you, and what do you want?'

  I tossed the trousers aside and sat down. 'I'm Malcolm Jaggard. I've come to see Dr. Ashton.'

  'Didn't you ring me last night? I told you she wasn't here-she's on the mainland.'

  'I know what you told me,' I said evenly. 'You said she'd be back this morning, so I came to see her.'

  He gestured. 'You've seen the weather. She wouldn't come over in this.'

  'Why not? I did.'

  'Well, she hasn't. She's still in Ullapool.'

  I shook my head, 'She's not in Ullapool, and she wasn't there last night, either.'

  He frowned. 'Look here, when I asked last night you said you were ringing from London.'

  'Did I? Must have been force of habit,' I said blandly. 'Does it make a difference where I rang from?'