Midnight Never Comes pc-4

by Jack Higgins

  Harrison took a revolver from his pocket and handed it to Chavasse. 'I picked this up on the way. You'd better have it.'

  Chavasse weighed it in his hand and nodded to Murdoch who had been standing at the rail, a silent observer of everything which had taken place.

  'One good turn deserves another. There's still the question of the right signal to bring a certain trawler in here to pick up Firebird. I've a feeling our friend here could be very co-operative in that direction if you approached him in the right way.'

  Harrison grinned, turning towards Murdoch and Chavasse went down the spiral staircase quickly after the others.

  The sergeant who drove them to the top of the cliffs was a keen amateur naturalist and spent most of his spare time on the cliffs and the seashore.

  He shook his head briefly in answer to von Bayern's query about the tide. 'It'll be well in now, sir,' he said. 'They go out slow and swing back sudden, if you follow me. Damned treacherous. I've nearly been caught in the rocks down there a time or two, I can tell you.'

  The mist had disappeared when they went over the crest of the final hill and braked to a halt and when they moved to the edge of the cliffs, the Beaver was clearly visible close to the rocks below, strangely alien in such a place.

  'See what I mean, sir?'

  The sergeant pointed and Chavasse looked to where the sea rolled in across the sand in great, hungry breakers. Already at least half of the area on which they had landed was eaten away and the rest was broken up by great trailing fingers of salt water.

  'What do you think?' Chavasse said, turning to von Bayern.

  The German shrugged. 'Ask me again when I'm sitting at the controls. Come on. We're wasting time.'

  They dropped into the nearest gully and went sliding down in a shower of broken stones and earth and the Artillery sergeant went with them.

  Chavasse plunged down the final slope of scree and emerged on to the open beach, aware at once of the strong, fresh breeze that blew in directly from the sea.

  'One thing in our favour,' von Bayern said, and they ran towards the Beaver.

  When they reached it, von Bayern climbed straight inside, followed by Steiner, but the Artillery sergeant grabbed Chavasse by the sleeve. 'It isn't possible, sir,' he said and his face was white. 'You haven't got a clear run. It's all broken up by water channels.'

  Chavasse had no time to reply, because the engine coughed into life with a shattering roar, drowning every other sound. He pushed the sergeant away, clambered up into the cabin and Steiner secured the door.

  Chavasse went into the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot's seat. 'What do you think?' he yelled above the roar of the engine.

  Von Bayern didn't even bother to reply. There was a strange, set smile on his face. He taxied into the wind and gave her full throttle. The Beaver shuddered and seemed to jump forward on a diagonal course to the sea that gave them the longest strip of beach there was left.

  They went across one water channel and then another and another, spray flying up in great clouds on either side, von Bayern stamping hard on the rudder bar to keep her straight. And then she lifted, one wing dipping slightly and the breakers were beneath them, the wheels skimming the whitecaps.

  But they weren't rising, that was the terrible thing-the nose was dropping and von Bayern didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Quite suddenly, they were moving very fast indeed, the engine note deepening into a full-throated roar and only then did he pull back the control column.

  They lifted into the evening sky, climbing fast and behind them on the beach, the Artillery sergeant watched them go, awe on his face.

  16

  Last lap

  Coming in low over the coast, von Bayern tapped Chavasse on the shoulder and pointed down to the old stone jetty below, the power boat moored beside it. There was no need for words. Chavasse took out the revolver Harrison had given him, emptied it and replaced the cartridges one by one.

  The land beneath them seemed very green after the rain and, beyond, the sun dropped down towards the mountains and the valleys were filled with purple shadow. They went over a rise and dipped into Glenmore and there was the house beside the stream, the improvised airstrip flanked by poplar trees, the windsock lifting slightly in the breeze on the flagstaff at one end.

  It all looked exactly the same as when they had left it and for a wild moment Chavasse had a strange feeling that nothing had happened in between at all-that time was a circle turning endlessly on itself, getting nowhere, and then von Bayern turned the Beaver into the wind and dropped her down.

  He taxied all the way to the poplar trees before cutting the engine and when the propeller had stopped turning, the silence seemed unnatural.

  Von Bayern turned with a slight smile. 'Last lap, Paul.'

  Chavasse nodded. 'Are you armed?'

  Von Bayern's eyebrows went up and he chuckled. 'My God, I was forgetting. I used a rifle back there on Fhada.'

  Steiner, who still carried his machine pistol, produced the revolver he had taken from Murdoch on the tower and passed it over.

  'If the colonel will permit me?'

  'My pleasure.' Von Bayern hefted the revolver in his hands. 'No sense in taking unnecessary risks at this stage. Work your way round the house and come in from the courtyard, Steiner. Mr. Chavasse and I will take this side.'

  Steiner was first out through the cabin door and they watched him move along the line of poplar trees and disappear.

  'A good man,' Chavasse said.

  Von Bayern nodded. 'The best.'

  He led the way to the low wall beyond the poplar trees and they looked across to the terrace at the rear of the house. It was still and quiet, the windows like empty eyes and Chavasse noticed a splash of colour towards the far end.

  'What's that?' he said.

  'God knows. Cover me and I'll take a look.'

  Von Bayern ran through a flower bed, keeping to the shelter of a yew hedge, crossed the terrace and crouched against the wall. Chavasse watched him work his way along to that splash of colour. When he reached it, he paused for a long moment, then raised an arm and beckoned.

  Ruth Murray stared up at the sky, her face strangely peaceful in death, the red housecoat spread around her, covering her broken body.

  Von Bayern's face was grim. 'He is a butcher, this man.'

  Chavasse leaned down to touch the cold cheek. 'I'd say she's been dead for seven or eight hours.'

  A French window opened farther along the terrace and as they swung, crouching, Hector Munro appeared, Steiner at his back.

  'Where did you find him?' Chavasse said.

  'In the courtyard beside the body of his son. And I found Benson, the driver you left with Miss Svensson, in the garage.'

  'Dead?'

  'I'm afraid so.'

  Hector Munro looked his age for the first time since Chavasse had known him, lines of anguish notched deeply into his face, great shoulders bowed in grief.

  'What happened, Hector?' Chavasse asked quietly.

  There were tears in the old man's eyes. 'He killed my son, Mr. Chavasse-he killed Rory.'

  'Who did?'

  'Stavrou. He killed Rory and he killed the soldier you left here with the girl.'

  'What did he do with her?'

  'Took her away to Loch Dubh.'

  'To the island?'

  'That's right. I followed them. When he came back, he was on his own. I kept out of his way, I had to. God help me, if I could only have laid hands on a gun.'

  'Where is he now?'

  'That devil Donner arrived maybe twenty minutes ago. They had a deal of conversation in some language strange to me and then they left.'

  'Did they go to the loch?'

  'They took that direction.'

  'The old castle on the island I told you about-Stavrou must have left the girl there and returned to wait for Donner. That's where they'll be.'

  'But if Donner's feelings for Miss Svensson are as strong as you say, he's hardly likely to harm he
r,' von Bayern pointed out

  'I wish I could be sure of that.' Chavasse shook his head. 'This is the end of the road for him-he must know that by now. Who can say what a desperate man might do in such circumstances?'

  'A good point.' Von Bayern nodded. 'Then it seems we must go into action again.'

  'You've done enough-all that anyone could expect-this bit is personal.'

  Chavasse turned to move away, there was a quick step behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

  Von Bayern sighed. 'I am something of a card player, my friend, and there is one inflexible rule which all good gamblers must obey. Never leave a hand half-played. I have no intention of relaxing that rule now, and, as Sergeant-Major Steiner's superior officer, I can assure you that neither has he. Shall we go?'

  It was quiet in the deep hollow there between the hills and the heather seemed to flow down into the loch to be swallowed up by those still black waters. Beyond, through the desolate light of gloaming, the mountains were streaked with orange and a small breeze lifted across the hillside, touching them coldly.

  They could see the motor boat moored beside the wooden jetty below the castle wall and Chavasse turned and looked along the shore towards the sandbank from which he had fished a thousand years ago.

  'The collapsible boat I mentioned should be somewhere under those bushes.'

  They went down through the heather to the shore and Steiner pointed suddenly. 'Look there!'

  The boat, or what was left of it, lay on the sand, slashed and torn in a dozen places.

  'The Munros,' Chavasse said. 'I might have known.'

  'A fine evening for a swim.' Von Bayern looked towards the island. 'Two hundred yards-just about my limit.'

  He started to unbutton his military tunic. Chavasse pulled his polo sweater over his head, kicked off his shoes and moved down to the water. Steiner followed him in shirt and pants, his machine pistol slung from his neck.

  As von Bayern joined them, Chavasse pointed to the other end of the loch. 'See where the river emerges. There's quite a current. If you can get into the stream of it, you'll be swept in to the island with very little effort.'

  'I don't think we should all land at the same place,' von Bayern said. 'It may be useful to come in from different directions.'

  Chavasse nodded. 'All right. If Steiner comes in from the other side of the island and you land on the northern tip, I'll make for the jetty and see to the motor boat. That way we'll have him for sure.'

  There was nothing more to be said and he walked into the water, catching his breath at the stinging coldness, and struck out in a slow, steady breaststroke that sent gentle ripples coursing across the silvery black surface.

  He was strangely calm, trapped in a sort of limbo of the mind, the ancient stronghold on its island rising out of the loch before him, dark against the orange sky, mirrored in the water like some castle in a child's fairy tale.

  He swam into the shadow of the walls, a foot touching rounded stones and when he turned, von Bayern's head broke the surface a good fifty yards out. There was no sign of Steiner and Chavasse hurried along the shore, keeping to the bushes, and reached the jetty.

  The motor boat floated at its mooring, the engine still warm. He unhooked the painter and pushed it out and a small current took hold, pulling it into deep water. He watched it go, then took the revolver from his hip pocket and went up through the bushes to the arched gateway.

  The courtyard was a place of shadows, the battlements stark against a sky that had faded to the colour of molten brass. The tower waited for him, dark and still, no sign of life at all and then a stone rattled underfoot and he crouched, the revolver against his thigh.

  There was a movement in the shadows on the stone steps and Steiner appeared on the battlements. He paused warily, his machine pistol ready, then moved on.

  As Chavasse reached the top of the steps, Steiner hesitated on the ramparts beside the old cannon, silhouetted against the sky and Stavrou stepped out of the shadow of a buttress behind him. In one smooth movement, the great fist rose and fell, catching Steiner on the nape of the neck, knocking him senseless.

  Chavasse moved quickly, the gun coming up and a machine pistol stuttered, bullets spraying the wall beside him, a splinter cutting his cheek.

  'All right, sport, let's have it!' Donner called and he moved out of the shadows beside the tower, pushing Asta in front of him.

  Remembering von Bayern, Chavasse threw down his revolver and waited as they mounted the battlements. Asta ran forward and he slipped an arm about her shoulders.

  'Very touching,' Donner said bitterly.

  'You've had it, Donner,' Chavasse said. 'Everything's gone up in smoke. When I left Fhada, Murdoch was even calling in that trawler of yours and there was quite a reception committee waiting.'

  Something glowed in Donner's eyes. 'I've still got you, sport. You and her, and that's all that matters in the final analysis.' He laughed harshly. 'You think your boyfriend's pretty hot stuff, don't you, Asta? Well, let's see just how good he is.' He turned to Stavrou who had moved to meet them and said quickly in Russian, 'Break his back for me.'

  The great arms swung and Chavasse twisted to duck beneath them and ran for the ramparts. Steiner sprawled face down across his machine pistol. Chavasse tugged at it desperately and as it came free, swung to meet Stavrou who came on like a charging bull.

  There was no time to fire. Chavasse swerved and as Stavrou plunged past, smashed him across the back of the skull with the machine pistol. Stavrou cried out in agony and staggered towards the dark line of the wall. He fell to one knee, stood up and turned blindly.

  It was the final chance and Chavasse took it, jumping high in the air to deliver that most feared of all karate blows, the flying front kick, full in Stavrou's face. He cried out sharply and catapulted back over the wall, down to the rocks below.

  Chavasse landed badly on the flagstones, the fall jarring him painfully. As Asta screamed, he turned, pushing himself up on one knee, knowing he was too late, aware only of Donner's face as the machine pistol was raised.

  'One moment, Herr Donner!' von Bayern called from the courtyard.

  Donner swung in surprise and the German fired three times very fast. The first bullet caught Donner in the shoulder spinning him round, the other two hammered against the wall. He dropped the machine pistol, pushed himself away from the wall with a violent shove and went over the edge into the courtyard.

  Chavasse picked himself up and moved to Steiner who groaned and sat up, a dazed expression on his face. 'What happened?'

  'A thunderbolt called von Bayern descended, that's what happened,' Chavasse told him.

  Asta was at his side and he slipped an arm about her and sagged down on one of the cannon as von Bayern mounted the steps and walked along the ramparts to join them.

  In the strange bronze light, he looked indomitable and ageless, the eternal soldier and he leaned on the wall beside them and smiled.

  'So, my dear Paul, we live to enjoy our Oktoberfest after all?'

  Chavasse took a deep, shuddering breath. He was alive, that was all that mattered and he held Asta close, the scent of her warm in his nostrils as the sun finally dipped beyond the mountains and night fell.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: fbd-4dc7f8-7b44-ad48-4c89-c046-3734-4f5d4f

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  Document creation date: 24.12.2012

  Created using: calibre 0.9.11, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software

  Document authors :

  Higgins, Jack

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