The Tightrope Men / The Enemy

by Desmond Bagley

  She flared. ‘How can he be a volunteer when he doesn’t know who he is? Any court of law would toss out that argument.’

  ‘Careful,’ said Harding suddenly, watching Denison.

  ‘He needs help,’ she pleaded.

  ‘He’s getting it,’ said Carey, and indicated Harding.

  ‘You already know what I think of that.’

  ‘Tell me something,’ said Carey. ‘Why are you so agitated about Denison? He is, after all, a stranger.’

  She looked down at the table. ‘Not any more,’ she said in a low voice. She raised her head and regarded Carey with clear eyes. ‘And aren’t we supposed to care for strangers? Have you never heard of the parable of the Good Samaritan, Mr Carey?’

  Carey sighed, and said dispiritedly, ‘See what you can do, Giles.’

  Denison opened his mouth and then closed it again. It was the first time Carey had addressed him by his Christian name, as he normally did with Armstrong and McCready. Was he now accepted as a member of the team, or was it just that the cunning old devil had decided to use psychology?

  He looked across the table at the girl. ‘I know what I’m doing, Lyn—and this operation is very important.’

  ‘How can you know what you’re doing?’ she demanded. ‘You’re not competent to judge.’

  ‘That’s just what he is,’ interjected Carey. ‘Sorry, Giles; carry on.’

  ‘That’s not the point,’ said Denison. ‘It wasn’t of my own free will that I was pitched into the middle of all this, but now that I’m in it I agree with Carey. If the operation is to be a success then I must continue to be Meyrick—to be your father. And that I’m going to do, regardless of what you think. I appreciate your concern, but this is too important for considerations like that.’

  She was silent, biting her lip. She said, ‘All right, Har…Giles. But on one condition.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘That I come with you—as Lyn Meyrick with her father.’ There was a dead silence around the table. ‘Well, isn’t that what you wanted—for the masquerade to go on? You’ve used me unknowingly—now you can use me knowingly.’

  Carey said softly, ‘It might be dangerous.’

  ‘So is having a father like Harry Meyrick,’ she said bitterly. ‘But that’s my condition—take it or leave it.’

  ‘Taken,’ said Carey promptly.

  ‘No!’ said Denison simultaneously.

  They stopped and looked at each other. ‘She’s stubborn,’ said Carey. ‘And she’s got us by the short hairs. It’s the answer.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Denison. He might have been replying to Carey but he looked at Lyn.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said.

  ‘Well, that’s it,’ said Carey briskly. ‘Now we can get on with the planning. Thank you, Dr Harding; I don’t think we’ll need you on this. I’ll keep in touch with you.’

  Harding stood up and nodded. He was walking to the door when Lyn said, ‘No!’ Her voice was sharp.

  Harding stopped. ‘No what?’ said Carey exasperatedly.

  ‘Dr Harding stays with Giles,’ she said. ‘The three of us stay together.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ said Carey, and a suppressed snort came from McCready.

  Harding had a white smile, ‘My dear Miss Meyrick; I’m hardly…I’m no…no…’

  ‘No guman, like the rest of them probably are? Well, let me tell you something. You won’t be worth a damn as a psychiatrist unless you stay with your patient.’

  Harding flushed again. Carey said, ‘Impossible!’

  ‘What’s so impossible about it?’ Lyn looked at Harding speculatively. ‘But I’m willing to leave it to the doctor—and his conscience, if he has one. What about it, Dr Harding?’

  Harding rubbed his lean jaw. ‘Insofar as it will help Denison I’m willing to stay. But I warn you—I’m no man of action.’

  ‘That’s it, then,’ said Lyn, parodying Carey.

  Carey looked at her helplessly, and McCready said, ‘It might not be a bad idea if the doctor is willing, as he seems to be.’

  Carey gave up. ‘Sit down, Harding,’ he said ungraciously.

  As he picked up his briefcase Denison murmured, ‘You did say by the short hairs, didn’t you?’

  Carey ignored him and opened the briefcase. ‘I have reason to believe that quite a lot of people are interested in the movements of Dr Meyrick. We’re going to give them some movements to watch.’

  He spread out a large map of Finland. ‘George will fly to Ivalo in Northern Lapland—’ his finger stabbed down—‘here. That’s as far north as you can fly in Finland. There’ll be a car waiting and he’ll drive still farther north to this place up by the Norwegian border—Kevon Tutkimusasema - that’s a station for the exploration of the Kevo Nature Preserve, the jumping off place, as you might call it.’

  He looked up at McCready. ‘Your job is to cover the party from the outside. You’ll inspect Kevo Camp, make sure it’s clean—and I don’t mean in the hygienic sense—and you’ll keep an eye on the party all the time it’s up there. But you won’t acknowledge it—you’ll be a stranger. Understand?’

  ‘Got it,’ said McCready.

  ‘Denison and Mrs Hansen—and now, of course, Miss Meyrick and Dr Harding—will travel by car from Helsinki. You will leave early tomorrow and it will take you two days to get to the camp at Kevo. George will already be there but you don’t recognize him. He’s your trump card should you get into trouble.’ Carey’s finger moved slightly south. ‘You will then explore the Kevo Nature Park. It’s rough country and you’ll need packs and tents.’ He wagged a finger at McCready. ‘We’ll need extra gear; see to it, George.’

  ‘What’s the point of all this?’ asked Denison.

  Carey straightened. ‘From my reading of Meyrick’s dossier and from what I know of his character he never did take an interest in natural history. Is that correct, Miss Meyrick?’

  ‘He was a pure technologist,’ she said. ‘If he ever thought of natural history—which I doubt—it would be with contempt.’

  ‘As I thought,’ said Carey. ‘So if Meyrick becomes interested now it will be out of character. The people who are watching him—as I am certain they are—will be mystified and will suspect an ulterior motive, which I will be careful to provide.’ He tapped Denison’s arm. ‘You’ll take some simple instruments—a theodolite and so on—and you’ll act out a charade as though you’re looking for something. Got the idea?’

  ‘A red herring,’ said Denison.

  ‘Right. You’ll spend three days at Kevo and then you’ll move south to another Nature Park at Sompio. There you will put on the same act until you’re recalled.’

  ‘How will that be done?’ asked McCready.

  ‘There’s a little village called Vuotso just outside. I’ll send you a telegram to poste restante—“Come home, all is forgiven.” It would be useful to have webbed feet at Sompio—it’s very marshy.’

  ‘Then there’ll be wildfowl,’ said Harding with sudden enthusiasm.

  ‘Very likely,’ said Carey uninterestedly.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ said Denison. ‘Meyrick is supposed to be looking for something—let’s say buried—in a Nature Park, but he doesn’t know which one. And all he has to go on are landmarks, hence the theodolite for measuring angles.’

  ‘Just like in a treasure hunt,’ said Lyn.

  ‘Precisely,’ said Carey. ‘But the treasure doesn’t exist—at least, not up there. I’ve even got a map for you. It’s as phoney as hell but very impressive.’

  Denison said, ‘And what will you be doing while we’re wandering all over the Arctic?’

  Carey grinned. ‘Young Ian and I will nip into Svetogorsk to dig up the loot while, hopefully, all eyes are on you.’ He turned to Mrs Hansen. ‘You’re very quiet.’

  She shrugged. ‘What’s there to say?’

  ‘You’ll be bodyguarding this lot from the inside. I had hoped you’d have but one person to worry about but, as yo
u see, there are now three. Can you manage?’

  ‘If they’ll do as they’re told.’

  ‘They’d better,’ said Carey. ‘I’ll give you something a bit bigger than the popgun you so incautiously let Denison see.’ He looked about. ‘Can anyone else here shoot?’

  ‘I’m not bad with a shotgun,’ said Harding.

  ‘I doubt if a shotgun in a Nature Preserve would be appreciated,’ said Carey ironically. ‘But at least you’ll know one end of a gun from the other. I’ll let you have a pistol. What about you, Giles?’

  Denison shrugged. ‘I suppose I can pull the trigger and make the thing go bang.’

  ‘That might be all that’s needed.’ Carey looked at Lyn, appeared to be about to say something, and changed his mind.

  ‘Are you expecting shooting?’ asked Harding. He looked worried.

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ said Carey. ‘I don’t know if there’ll be shooting or not, but if there is, I hope you’ll be on the receiving end and not me, because that’s the object of this bloody exercise.’ He put the map back into his briefcase. That’s all. Early start tomorrow. George, I’d like a word with you before you go.’

  The group at the table broke up. Denison went across to Lyn. ‘Harding told me about your father. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need,’ she said. ‘I ought to feel sorry, too, but I can’t.’ She looked up at him. ‘Carey said you are a stranger, but it’s my father who was the stranger. I hadn’t seen him for two years and when I thought I’d found him again, and he was different and nicer, I hadn’t found him at all. So then I lost him again and it made no difference, after all. Don’t you see what I mean?’

  Denison followed this incoherent speech, and said, ‘I think so.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘I don’t think you should come on this jaunt, Lyn.’

  Her chin came up. ‘I’m coming.’

  He sighed. ‘I hope you know what you’ve got yourself into.’

  Carey filled his pipe. ‘What do you think, George?’

  ‘The girl’s a bit of a handful.’

  ‘Yes. Look after them as best you can.’

  McCready leaned forward. ‘It’s you I’m worried about. I’ve been thinking about Meyrick. If the people who snatched him were the Russkies, and if he talked, you’re in dead trouble. You’re likely to find a reception committee awaiting you in Svetogorsk.’

  Carey nodded. ‘It’s a calculated risk. There were no signs of physical coercion on Meyrick’s body—burn marks or anything like that—and I doubt if he’d talk voluntarily. I don’t think they had time to make him talk; they were too busy smuggling him around the Baltic. In any case, we don’t know who snatched him.’

  He struck a match. ‘It’s my back I’m worried about right now. I had a talk to Lyng last night on the Embassy scrambler. I told him that Thornton was nosing about. He said he’d do something about it.’

  ‘What?’

  Carey shrugged. ‘They don’t use guns in Whitehall but I believe they have weapons that are equally effective. It’s no concern of yours, George; you won’t have to worry about the Whitehall War until you get up to my level.’

  ‘I’m not so worried about Whitehall as I am about Svetogorsk,’ said McCready. ‘I think it ought to be swapped around. Armstrong can go north and I’ll come with you acioss the border.’

  ‘He doesn’t have the experience for what might happen up there. He’s yet to be blooded, but he’ll be all right with an old dog like me.’

  ‘He’d be all right with me,’ said McCready. ‘He and I could cross the border and you could go north.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Carey regretfully. ‘But I’m pushing sixty and I don’t have the puff for that wilderness lark. And I don’t have the reflexes for the fast action you might get. The plan stands, George.’ His voice took on a meditative note. ‘This is likely to be my last field operation. I’d like it to be a good one.’

  TWENTY-THREE

  The car slowed as it came to the corner. Harding, who was driving, said, ‘This might be the turn-off. Check it on the map, will you?’

  Denison, in the back of the car, lifted the map from his knee. ‘That’s it; we’ve just passed Kaamanen. The Kevo Camp is eighty kilometres up this side road and there’s damn-all else.’ He checked his watch. ‘We ought to arrive before eleven.’

  Harding turned on to the side road and the car lurched and bumped. After a few minutes he said, ‘Make that midnight. We’re not going to move fast on this road.’

  Diana laughed. ‘The Finns are the only people who could coin a word like kelirikko. It’s a word Humpty-Dumpty would be proud of.’

  Harding notched down a gear. ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘It means, “the bad state of the roads after the spring thaw”.’

  ‘Much in little,’ said Harding. ‘There’s one thing I’m glad of.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘This midnight sun. I’d hate to drive along here in the dark.’

  Denison glanced at Lyn who sat by his side. She was apparently asleep. It had been two days of hard driving, very tiring, and he was looking forward to his bed. He wound the window down to clear the dust from the outside surface, then looked at the countryside covered with scrub birch. Something suddenly caught him in the pit of the stomach. What the hell am I doing here? Hundreds of miles north of the Arctic Circle in the Finnish wilderness? It seemed preposterously improbable.

  They had left Helsinki very early the previous morning and headed north out of the heavily populated southern coastal rim. Then they had left the rich farmlands very quickly and entered a region of forests and lakes, of towering pine and spruce, of white-trunked, green-leaved birch and the ever-present blue waters.

  They took it in turns driving in two-hour shifts and made good time, sleeping that night in Oulu. After Oulu the land changed. There were fewer lakes and the trees were not as tall. A birch that in the south towered a hundred feet now had hardly the strength to grow to twenty, and the lakes gave way to marshes. As they passed through Ivalo, where there was the northernmost airstrip, they encountered their first Lapps, garish in red and blue, but there were really very few people of any kind in this country. Denison, under the prodding of Carey, had done his homework on Finland and he knew that in this most remote area of the country, Inari Commune, there were fewer than 8,000 people in a province the size of Yorkshire.

  And there would be fewer still around Kevo.

  Diana stretched, and said, ‘Stop at the top of the next rise, Doctor; I’ll spell you.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ said Harding.

  ‘Stop anyway.’

  He drove up the hill and was about to pull up when Diana said, ‘Just a few yards more—over the crest.’ Harding obligingly let the car roll and then braked to a halt. ‘That’s fine,’ she said, taking binoculars from a case. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

  Denison watched her leave the car and then opened his own door. He followed her back along the road and then into a growth of stunted birches. When he caught up with her she was looking back the way they had come through the glasses. ‘Anything in sight?’

  ‘No,’ she said curtly.

  ‘You’ve done this every hour,’ he said. ‘And you’ve still seen nothing. Nobody’s following us.’

  ‘They might be ahead,’ she said without taking the glasses from her eyes.

  ‘How would anyone know where we were going?’

  ‘There are ways and means.’ She lowered the glasses and looked at him. ‘You don’t know much about this business.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Denison said reflectively. ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing in it? You’re American, aren’t you?’

  She slung the binocular strap over her shoulder. ‘Canadian. And it’s just a job.’

  ‘Just a civil servant,’ he said ironically. ‘Like any nine-to-five typist in Whitehall.’ He remembered the occupation given in Meyrick’s passport. ‘Or like Dr Meyrick.’

  She faced him. ‘Let’s get one th
ing straight. From now on you do not refer to Meyrick in the third person—not even in private.’ She tapped him on the chest with her forefinger. ‘You are Harry Meyrick.’

  ‘You’ve made your point, teacher.’

  ‘I hope so.’ She looked around. ‘This seems a quiet spot. How long is it since you’ve seen anyone?’

  He frowned. ‘About an hour. Why?’

  ‘I want to find out how much you lot know about guns. Target practice time.’ As they went back to the car, she said, ‘Go easy on Lyn Meyrick. She’s a very confused girl.’

  ‘I know,’ said Denison. ‘She has every reason to be confused.’

  Diana looked at him sideways. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘You could call it confusion—of a sort. It’s not easy to fall in love with a man who looks like the father you hate, but she’s managed it.’

  Denison stopped dead. ‘Don’t be idiotic.’

  ‘Me!’ She laughed. ‘You do a bit of thinking and then figure who’s the idiot around here.’

  Harding pulled the car off the road and into the trees. Diana loaded a pistol from a packet of cartridges and set an empty beer can on a fallen tree trunk. ‘All right; let’s see who can do this.’ Almost casually she lifted her arm and fired. The beer can jumped and spun away.

  They took it in turns to fire three shots each. Denison missed every time, Harding hit the can once and Lyn, much to her own surprise, hit it twice. Diana said to Denison caustically, ‘You were right; you can make the gun go bang.’

  To Lyn she said, ‘Not bad—but what would you be like shooting at a man instead of a beer can?’

  ‘I…I don’t know,’ said Lyn nervously.

  ‘What about you, Doctor?’

  Harding hefted the gun in his hand. ‘If I was being shot at I think I’d shoot back.’

  ‘I suppose that’s as much as I could expect,’ said Diana resignedly. ‘Let’s go back to the car.’

  She gave them each a pistol and watched them load. ‘Don’t forget to put on the safety catch. More important, don’t forget to release it when you shoot. You’ll put those in your bedrolls now. When we move off on foot tomorrow you’ll need a more accessible place for them. Let’s go.’