The Blue Ice

I looked up at him then. 'Are you certain you want to be put ashore, Mr Jorgensen?' I asked.

'What do you mean?' There was genuine surprise in his voice.

'Why did you come to see me this evening?' I asked.

'Because I wanted you to use your influence with Sir Clinton — to persuade him to agree to operate with us in the development of the mineral resources of my country.'

For the first time I noticed that he had a slight lisp. But it didn't make him sound effeminate. Rather the reverse, for his struggle to pronounce his r's gave his speech added emphasis.

'I don't believe you,' I said bluntly. 'You came to see me because you wanted to know what we'd found out about George Farnell.'

'That is absurd,' he answered. 'Why should I be interested in this man Farnell? Perhaps he was good once. But ten years is a long time.'

'He spent most of those ten years in Norway,' I reminded him. And then I said, 'Why did you come to see me precisely at six o'clock?'

He seemed to hesitate. Then he said, 'I had a conference at Norway House. I could not come earlier.'

'Are you sure you didn't come because Sir Clinton told you I'd be meeting some people who knew Farnell at six o'clock?' I asked. It was a shot in the dark. And when he didn't reply, I added, 'You wanted to know who was sailing with me to Norway, didn't you?'

'Why should I?'

'Because you are as interested as we are in George Farnell,' I answered.

'That is ridiculous,' he replied. 'What is all this about Farnell? The man is dead.'

'Yet I've had a message from him.'

I was watching his face and in the light from the open door of the chartroom I saw his eyes narrow.

'When?'

'Quite recently,' I told him. Before he could ask any further questions I stood up. 'Dick. Take the wheel, will you,' I said. Arid then: 'You don't need to worry, Mr Jorgensen,' I told him. 'I'll not take you to Norway against your will. But come below a moment and hear what I have to say.' I turned and went down the companion way.

In the saloon I found Curtis and Miss Somers seated where I had left them. Dahler was pacing up and down. He swung round as I came in. 'Why are we going down the river, Mr Gansert? I wish to be put ashore, please.'

'Sit down,' I said. Jorgensen appeared in the doorway. I pulled up a chair and thrust him into it. 'I'll set anyone ashore who wants to go,' I told them. 'But first listen to what I have to say.' Dahler sat down at the table, resting his weight on his withered arm as he peered up at me. 'For one reason or another we're all here because of one thing,' I said, looking round at their faces. 'Because of George Farnell's death.' I had their attention then. They, were all looking at me. I felt like the chairman of some incredible board meeting — the sort of board meeting one could only imagine in the moment of waking up with a hangover. They were such an odd assortment. And the undercurrent of emotion was so violent. It was in the air, like some electrical disturbance. On the surface they were just four individuals. But I was convinced that in some strange way they were all linked — and George Farnell was the link. 'For myself,' I said, 'I'm not satisfied about George Farnell's death. I want to know how it happened. And I'm going to Norway now to find out.' I turned to Curtis Wright. 'Since you brought your things with you, I take it you want to come?'

His glance went to the girl. Then he said, 'Yes, I'd like to.'

'Why?' I asked him.

He grinned. 'For one thing I've got three weeks' leave and this seems as good a way to spend it as any. For another, I too want to find out more about Farnell's death. There are messages I have to deliver. You see, I was with him on the Maloy raid.'

'Why didn't you deliver the messages after the raid when you heard he was missing?' I asked.

'Because I knew he wasn't dead,' he replied. 'No reason why you shouldn't know about it, I suppose. I should have reported it at the time. But I didn't. One doesn't always do what one is supposed to do when one's on active service. And afterwards — well, there seemed no point.'

He paused. Nobody spoke. Everyone was watching him. He had taken a gold watch from his pocket and was toying with it. The girl gazed at it fascinated. 'I was acting as liaison between the Kompani Linge and our own crowd on the Maloy raid,' he went on. 'When we were going in to the assault, Olsen came to me and asked me to give messages to various people. 'But only when you're certain I'm dead,' he said. 'I shall be reported missing on this raid.' I asked him what he meant by that, and he replied, 'I'll do the job we're ordered to do. But when I've got my men back to the beach, I'll leave them there. I'm going into Norway on my own. There's something I've got to do — something I'd started before the war. It's important.' I argued with him — ordered him, as an officer, to report back with his men. But he just smiled and said, 'I'm sorry, sir. One day perhaps you'll understand.' Well, I couldn't put him under arrest when we'd be in action in five minutes' time. I just had to leave it at that.'

'And what happened?' It was Jorgensen who put the question.

Curtis shrugged his shoulders. 'Oh, he did as he said he would. He brought his men back to the beach. Then he told them he was going back for a man who was missing. They never saw him again and we left without him. If I thought he'd deserted, I'd have reported the matter. But I'm convinced he didn't. He wasn't the type that deserts. He was tough — not physically, but morally. You could see it in his eyes.'

I leaned forward. 'What was it he had to do over there in Norway?' I asked.

'I don't know,' he answered. 'It may not have been important. But I know this. It was important to him.'

I glanced at Jorgensen. He was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on Curtis. Opposite him, across the cabin, the cripple sat back in his chair and smiled softly. 'What about you, Mr Dahler?' I said. 'Why have you come to see me?'

'Because I also wish to know more about Farnell's death,' he said.

Then why do you want to be put ashore?' I asked. 'The answer surely is to come with us to Fjaerland?'

'I should like to,' he replied. 'But unfortunately-' he shrugged his shoulders.

'You say you'd like to?' I was puzzled.

His fingers plucked at the cloth of the half-empty sleeve. 'There are difficulties, you see.' His face was working. His whole body looked taut.

'What difficulties?' I inquired.

'Ask Jorgensen.' His voice was violent.

I turned. Jorgensen's face was white. The rather leathery skin remained an impassive mask, but his blue eyes were narrow and watchful. 'Suppose you tell them yourself,' he said.

Dahler jumped to his feet. 'Tell them myself!' he cried. 'No. Why should I tell them that I can no longer enter my own country?' He thrust back his chair and took a step towards Jorgensen. Then he turned abruptly about. A few agitated paces and he was brought up by the door to the galley. He swung round and faced us. 'Never will I tell them that,' he said. His brown eyes fastened themselves on me with a strange intentness. 'I'll come, Mr Gansert. I owe Farnell a debt.' He glanced at Jorgensen. 'And I believe in paying my debts,' he added.

'What sort of a debt?' I asked.

'He saved my life,' he answered.

'You are making a mistake, Mr Dahler,' Jorgensen said quietly. 'In Norway you will be liable to arrest.'

'And which one of your employees will you get to inform against me this time, eh?' Dahler asked with a sneer. 'Or will you do your own dirty work?' He moved slowly across the room, his head thrust out towards Jorgensen and twisted slightly to one side. 'Haven't you done enough already?'