'Yes,' I said.
He sat on his bunk. 'So does herr direktor Jorgensen.'
The way he said herr direktor it sounded like a sneer. 'I was expecting you, you know.'
'Expecting me? Why?' I asked.
'The radio. Our radio watch, you know, is for half an hour. Jorgensen spoke to me after you had left.' I was again conscious of his eyes watching me. 'Another drink, eh?
'No thanks,' I said.
'I understand you are the representative of some English company?' The bottle gurgled as he refilled both glasses. 'Skoal,' he said. 'What company, Mr Gansert?'
'Base Metals and Industries,' I answered.
His thick, sandy-coloured eyebrows lifted. 'So! A big concern, eh? Bigger than D.N.S.'
'Yes,' I said. I wanted him to do the talking. I wanted to get the measure of the man. But he waited so that at length I said, 'Where is the man, Schreuder?'
'Locked in a cabin,' he answered.
'Can I see him?'
'Perhaps.' He rolled the thick, colourless liquid round his glass. Then he looked at me out of his sharp little eyes. He didn't say anything. The vessel's foghorn suddenly blared through the cabin, drowning the steady thrum of the engines. He waited. Again the foghorn blared.
'How much?' I asked.
'How much?' He smiled and shrugged his shoulders 'You wish to buy. But do you know what you are buying, eh, Mr Gansert?'
'Do you know what you are selling?' I answered.
He smiled. 'I think so. On board my ship is the man who can give the location of important new mineral deposits. So much herr Jorgensen has tell me. He has also said I must bring this man — Schreuder — to Bovaagen Hval — without letting you speak with him. Now, you see how awkward it is for me, Mr Gansert. Herr Jorgensen is direktor of the whaling station I sell my whales to. He is a hard man. If I do not deliver him Schreuder, the station will no more take my whale. You see, there are only three whaling stations in Norway. Each station is allowed only three catchers. If Bovaagen Hval is closed to me I cannot take my whale elsewhere. Then how do I live? How do my men live? And my ship — it will lie in Sandefjord and rot. But first we will talk with Jorgensen. If he does not offer too much and you offer more — well, maybe I come alive in England, eh? Then how do I keep my stomach fed?' He patted the protruding bulk which shook with laughter. 'Perhaps there is a good black market restaurant in your Soho, eh? But first we talk with Jorgensen.'
He heaved himself up and peered for'ard out of the port-hole. Then he glanced at his watch. 'In five minutes we arrive at Bovaagen Hval. Then we will see. Now we have another drink, eh?' He refilled my glass. 'Skoal.' Then as I did not pick up my glass, he said, 'Please, Mr Gansert, when I say skoal you must drink. If you don't drink I cannot drink. That is our custom in Norway. And I like to drink. Skoal.' I raised my glass and knocked back the liquor. It was sharp and fiery.
'Why did Schreuder want to get to the Shetlands?' I asked.
'Maybe he kill someone. I do not know. But he nearly made a damn' fool of me — magnetising my compass.' He was watching me again. 'That description of Farnell — you said the tip of the little finger of the left hand missing, eh?'
'That's right,' I said. 'I know about that because it happened when I was with him in Rhodesia. Caught it in a crushing plant. Why?'
His eyes were back on his drink. 'O-oh. I just wondered, that is all. This man Schreuder did not say nothing about it. His description was correct from what you say, but he did not say about the little finger of the left hand.'
The engine-room telegraph rang and the engines slowed. I got up and peered out ahead. The fog was thickening. But out of it emerged the vague shape of one of the small islands masking Bovaagen Hval. 'We're almost in, I think,' I said. He made no reply. I imagine he was considering how best to handle negotiations involving both Jorgensen and myself. I wondered why he had brought up the matter of Farnell's little finger and how much he knew about the whole business.
And then suddenly pandemonium seemed to break loose. There was a shout. Then an iron door slammed and feet pounded down the iron-plated length of the after-deck. There followed a splash. Then shouts and more feet running on the deck plating. The engine-room telegraph rang again and the ship shuddered as the engines were set to full astern.
At the first shout Lovaas, with surprising speed for a man of his bulk, had leapt to his feet and reached the door. 'Hvar er hendt?' he roared.
Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of a man whose face was running in blood looking up from the rail below. 'Del er Schreuder,' he shouted back. Then he pointed over the starboard rail. 'Han unnslapp og hoppet overbord.'
'De fordomte udugelig idiot'.' Lovaas roared and swung himself on to the bridge ladder.
'What's happened?' I asked as I followed him.
'Schreuder,' he answered. 'He's escaped and dived overboard.' He flung open the door to the bridge. The mate was there, peering through binoculars. 'Kan De se ham?' Lovaas demanded.
'AW,' the mate answered. And then suddenly: 'Jo, Jo — der borte'
I followed the direction of his arm. On the edge of the mist's visibility a black blob showed for an instant on the colourless surface of the sea. Then.it was gone. 'Full fan forover babord motor. Full fart akterover styrbord motor.' Lovaas was peering into the opaque void. 'Roret hardt over til babord, Henrik\' Again I saw the black blob as our bows swung. It turned and looked back and I saw then that it was a man's head. He raised his arms out of the water. He was struggling to get clear of his clothes. Then the head vanished. I had no idea what the temperature of the water was. But I knew it must be pretty cold. No man would try such a swim in these waters unless he were desperate. And at the moment that he had disappeared he had been heading out to sea. The poor wretch must have lost his sense of direction. From where I stood, balancing myself to the heel of the ship as she turned, I could see the vague shape of the island. But from water-level it was probably invisible.
I glanced quickly at Lovaas. He was peering into the mist at the point where the man's head had disappeared. The fierce grip of his hand on the edge of the bridge betrayed his impatience at the slowness of the turn. I glanced down at Diviner straining at the warps that secured her to the catcher. If we could pick Schreuder up and not Lovaas… I was down the ladder in a flash. 'Dick! Curtis!' I shouted. 'Cut her clear. Quick!'
I heard Lovaas bellowing in Norwegian to his crew as I slipped across the engine-room hatches and down the ladder to her main deck. Somebody tried to bar my way at the foot of the ladder. I lashed out with my foot and then jumped straight over on to Diviner's deck. Dick and Wilson each had an axe. Two blows severed the warps and as I picked myself up off the deck, the engines started and we drew clear of the catcher.
Lovaas was out on the catwalk. He shook his fist at me as he hurried down to the bows to act as lookout. I saw his hand touch the heavy harpoon gun and then he glanced across at us. 'Hard a'port!' I shouted to Jill who was at the wheel.
'Hard a'port it is,' she answered and we swung away. I wanted to get well clear of the catcher. The rage of the man was obvious even though the distance between us was rapidly widening. I wondered what he would do if we succeeded in picking up Schreuder.
But we didn't succeed. And nor did Lovaas. The two of us cruised back and forth over that little area of sea a hundred times.