The Killer Mine

'You'd better talk to Manack about it.'

'Not ruddy likely. If I clear a't it'll be quiet like an' in my own time. An' don't you tell the Capting wot I bin sayin'. He'd be sore as hell if 'e thort I were runnin' a't on 'im.'

'Yes,' Slim smiled. 'He's not the sort who takes kindly to rats'

Friar was on his feet in an instant, his red cheeks mottled with anger. "Ere, 'oo you callin' a rat?'

'All right, all right.' A car roared into the yard.

'Here's Manack now,' Slim said. 'Maybe he'll have news.'

'Well, I bet it ain't good news.' Through the window I saw a big, old-fashioned Bentley tourer draw up close to the back of the house. Captain Manack, in riding breeches with a yellow polo-necked sweater under his brown sports coat, got out and came straight over to the outbuildings. He had a newspaper in his hand. A moment later he walked into the room. His thick, wiry hair stood up on end and his eyes looked quickly from one to the other of us as he shut the door. 'The trucks aren't coming, he said.

'Scared?' asked Slim.

Manack nodded. 'And that's not all,' he added. 'You may as well know the worst whilst you are about it.' And he flung the newspaper down amongst the breakfast things. Staring at me from the centre of the front page was a picture of Dave Tanner It was headed — WANTED FOR MURDER. Underneath in black type was the caption:

David Jones, owner and skipper of the ketch, Isle of Mull, whose real name is Dave Tanner, is wanted by the police in connection with the disappearance of the crew of the revenue cutter found abandoned near Penzance yesterday morning. The four revenue officials who manned the cutter are now thought to have been murdered. One of Tanner's girlfriends, Sylvia Coran, of 2 Harbour Terrace, Penzance, has told the police that Tanner returned at about eight p.m. on Wednesday. He had a bullet wound in the arm. He left almost immediately with Jim Pryce, a friend who had just arrived from Italy. (Full Story, page 4).

I looked up. Manack was pacing backwards and forwards, running his long fingers through his hair. He suddenly rounded on the three of us. 'Damn all Welshmen and their vanity,' he said savagely. 'If he'd been content with just one woman it would have been all right. But the girl was in love with him and when the police proved to her that he'd been keeping one of those artist women over at Lamorna Cove, she told them what she knew. Pray God he never mentioned Cripples' Ease to her. They're on to you too,' he said to me. 'There's a full description of you on the inside page. Pretty accurate, too. Anybody see you in the village last night?'

'Yes,' I said. 'I went into the pub up there for a drink.' 'You didn't tell 'em you were coming down here, did you?' He noticed my hesitation immediately. 'Oh, my God!' he said. 'And I suppose you told them your real name?'

'No,' I said. 'I asked where Cripples' Ease was. I–I said I wanted to see you.'

'That's a pretty hot trail you've laid.' His voice was grim. 'Who was there? Any visitors?' 'No,' I told him. 'They all looked like locals.'

'Well, we'll just have to hope they don't bother much about the papers. They're pretty slow about putting two and two together in this village. But George Wetheral, the landlord — he's got his wits about him. He'll remember you. Damn and blast!'

'What are you going to do?' asked Slim. He lingered over the words as though enjoying the situation.

'Do?' There was an excited gleam in Manack's eyes. 'This is what we're going to do. We'll wall the Arisaig's cargo up for a start. By tonight there'll not be a trace of our activities in the whole of Wheal Garth. Pryce, you'll get right ahead with breaching the Mermaid gallery. And you'll live underground. We'll fix you with a bed in a dug-out down the mine. It's quite dry there. It's our bolt hole — concealed entrance and everything. Before you leave I want the Mermaid operating as an underwater passageway to connect up with shipping.'

'What aba't the Ardmore?' Friar asked. 'She's doo in on Sunday or Monday.'

'I'll look after that,' Manack answered. 'In the meantime we run no more cargoes until the undersea route is open. You're working on kerb stones, if anyone asks you — understand? Both of you. And if the police come around and ask for your identity cards and ration books tell 'em I've got them. You needn't worry. They can't touch you.'

'Wot aba't the ol' man?' Friar asked. 'Suppose the police start questioning 'im?'

'He'll not talk about anything but the mine. He never does.' He looked at Slim and Friar. 'You two get to work walling up that cargo. The sooner that's done, the safer it'll be if the police come round with a search warrant.' Then he turned to me. 'You get shaved now, Pryce. As soon as you're ready I'll take you down to the Mermaid gallery.'

'And when I've done the job?' I asked.

'You'll leave for Italy on the Arisaig. I'll hold her until you've finished.'

'But I don't want to go back to Italy,' I said.

'You'll go where you're sent.' His voice was brisk and confident. 'You ought to be grateful to me for getting you out of this mess.' Damn him! He knew I had no choice.

'What aba't Dave?' Friar asked.

'He goes on the Arisaig too.'

'An' good riddance, that's wot I says.' Friar suddenly looked up. 'Blimey, there's that load o' stuff for the Arisaig coming in today or tomorrow. What aba't that?'

'It's not coming. Any more questions? All right then — Get that cargo stowed.'

'Okay.' Friar got slowly to his feet. 'But I don't like it — I tell yer straight I don't,' he grumbled. Then he suddenly asked, 'Wot 'appened to the rest of the Isle o' Mull's crew — Mason, Fergis and Pentlin?'

'You don't need to worry about them,' Manack said. 'They were all on board the Isle of Mull when she blew up.'

Friar scowled. 'Did yer 'ave ter kill the 'ole bleedin' lot?'

Manack glared at him.

'Come on, Slim — we'll get that cargo stowed,' Friar said hurriedly.

They went out, leaving me alone with Manack. He was pacing up and down. I sat there trying to make up my mind what to do. Every instinct told me to get out of the place. The sooner I was away from Cripples' Ease the safer I'd be. But something stronger tugged at me — the bars on that window, the name James Nearne over the door, the letter in my pocket.

Manack suddenly stopped his pacing and faced me. 'Well?' I looked at him. But I didn't say anything. I hadn't made up my mind. He picked up the paper and opened it at an inside page. 'Read that,' he said. I looked down at the type. It was a description of myself: A very powerfully built man, broad shoulders, height about 6ft. 2 ins., slouching walk, dark complexion, blue eyes, thick brown hair starting low on the forehead. When last seen, Pryce was wearing seaman's clothes, dark blue serge jacket and trousers, dark blue jersey. He had no hat and may be carrying a light khaki raincoat several sizes too small for him. The girl had certainly given them a pretty accurate description.

'Still not want to go to Italy?' Manack's voice was sarcastic. I looked up. 'I don't need to tell you,' he added, 'that on that description you'd be picked up in no time — if you left here.' He suddenly sat down in the chair opposite me. 'Listen, Pryce — I run these cargoes into the mine at the moment in a barge propelled by an electric motor. It's a sort of submarine barge and lies submerged when not in use. We bring it to the surface with compressed air before going out to pick up a cargo. I'll show you when we go down. It's not a bad device. But it's too dangerous. It means my boats have to lie off for good weather. And now that this has happened I daren't risk it any more. The Mermaid gallery runs out just on half a mile. I plan to blow the end of it so that cargoes can be lowered on buoyed guide wires down into the gallery. They'll come into the mine by a hawser-drawn wooden carriage running on the rock ledges. It may work or it may not. If it does, then it means that my boats can unload in any weather. I'm not running any more cargoes by the old method. I tell you that so that you'll know just how determined I am for the blasting of the Mermaid gallery to be done now. I've got all the equipment you need, including compressor and pneumatic drills.' He paused, watching my face. 'Why don't you want to go back to Italy?' he asked.