Blood of the Albatross

by Ridley Pearson

  “He is on the boat, checking the merchandise.”

  “How long has he been gone?”

  “A few minutes is all. He will be a while.”

  “It all went smoothly then?”

  “Hardly smoothly, but it is over.”

  “Then I owe you this.” He pulled out a videotape and set it on the pitted tabletop next to him.

  The sight of the videotape distracted Marlene. “How do I know that is the only copy?”

  “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  She coughed a laugh.

  “You don’t trust me?” he asked.

  Jay saw the man’s right hand slowly creep up under the back of his coat and then the handle of a small revolver appeared. Jay pushed against the door, shoving his weight into it and catching Wilhelm by surprise. Wilhelm toppled over, dropping the revolver. It skidded along the floor into the sitting room. Jay ran for it, but as he passed Wilhelm, the big man reached out and tripped him up. Jay fell face first to the floor, landing on his bad hand and screaming. Marlene took one step toward Wilhelm. But the big man was fast and already on his feet. He backhanded her effortlessly and sent her reeling into and over the chair. She collapsed into the corner.

  Jay was on his knees and crawling for the gun. He flattened straight out and took hold of it as Wilhelm dove on top of him, knocking the wind out of him and grabbing hold of his arm. The two wrestled for control of the weapon, but it flew from Jay’s hand and into the far corner. Wilhelm’s gaze followed the gun, providing Jay with an opening. He rolled and delivered the back of a fist into Wilhelm’s ear. The big man tumbled off him. This time Wilhelm scurried for the pistol.

  For Jay, unable to breathe, Wilhelm’s actions seemed to slow to a crawl. Suddenly every second was thirty seconds. Wilhelm inched toward the pistol, tossing furniture out of his way, unable to see the gun. Jay’s attention fixed on the kerosene lantern on the mantle, just above him. He struggled to his feet. Wilhelm knocked a chair out of his way, still unable to find the weapon. Jay was standing. He reached up and grabbed hold of the glass lantern. He tapped it against the stone hearth, trying to crack the glass. Wilhelm was bent over, frantic now. Unable to find the gun, he took hold of the inverted chair and threw it at Jay, quickly looking down again for the weapon.

  The flying chair struck Jay squarely in the back. The pain was intense. The lantern bumped the stone hearth and cracked. Jay had known, without thinking about it, that if he simply threw the lit lantern at Wilhelm it wouldn’t spread flame until it broke and the burning wick touched the spreading fuel. But if he could crack the glass then the flames might start the moment the lantern connected with its target. He cocked his arm back, elbow locked, and launched the dripping lantern at Wilhelm, who had just found the gun.

  A surprised Wilhelm rose to fire the weapon. His instincts were good. At the last possible second, he spun around, his finger already squeezing off a shot, as the flames engulfed his back.

  Jay watched, unable to move or look away.

  Wilhelm reacted quickly, dropping the gun and peeling off the burning jacket. He dove to the floor and rolled toward Jay, beating his burning pant legs furiously. Flames spread into the corner and across the furniture, and the walls caught fire. Wilhelm miraculously extinguished the flames on his pants and jumped to his feet.

  Jay ran from the room. He turned to look at Marlene, who was just coming to her senses in the corner. He pushed through the door into the kitchen, Wilhelm right behind him. As he cleared the doorway, he stopped, spun around, and kicked as hard as he could, catching Wilhelm between the legs. Wilhelm howled and fell forward. Instinctively, Jay bunched his broken fingers into a fist and slugged the man in the face, screaming with the contact. He struck him again, and as Wilhelm began to fall further, Jay kicked with all his might and broke the man’s jaw. Wilhelm hit the floor unconscious, his pants still smoldering, the back of his shirt burned off.

  The flames had spread quickly, pushing smoke out of the room and into the foyer. Jay reached Marlene, who was on her knees in the corner.

  The fire set off all the bullets in Wilhelm’s gun at once, confusing them both. Jay threw himself over her. She hugged him with all her strength. Then Jay heard the helicopter approaching. He ran into the kitchen and peered through the dirty window. He couldn’t see the chopper, but he did see the approaching dory.

  “It’s Holst,” he said to Marlene, frightened. “He’s back.”

  She stood in the kitchen doorway, holding the videotape and briefcase. “I will get the speargun,” she said.

  “He said, “No, get away from here. Hide! I’ll do my best.” He stared at her. “Okay?”

  She nodded.

  Jay ran out the back door, crouching low, hearing the chopper in the distance, but still unable to see it. As he reached the beginning of the old, crippled dock, Holst bumped the dory against the far end and tied the skiff to a wooden post. Jay tucked himself behind a huge fallen tree, his left hand searching for and finding a good-sized stick. He took it in both hands like a baseball bat and concentrated on Holst, who was running cautiously up the dilapidated dock, eyes on the broken slats of wood, jumping over the holes. Holst paused at the end of the dock, taking two steps into the wet field grass. He held a revolver in his right hand.

  When his back was to Jay, Becker rose. “Holst!” he hollered. And as the surprised man turned to fire the gun, Jay delivered a home run blow to the side of the German’s face.

  Holst collapsed, but was able to roll and squeeze the trigger, and Jay felt a burning in his left shoulder. He’d been hit. He dove over a fallen tree. Holst pumped off two more rounds, splintering the log above Jay’s head. The German staggered to his feet, his jaw pushed ungainly to one side, a large, open welt across his neck and cheek, his left eye a mess. He inched forward, ever closer to Becker.

  Jay took hold of a stone and blindly threw it over the log, missing Holst but distracting him and causing him to fire another shot. Two left, Jay thought, and he rolled along the smooth stones to his left, moving behind the log, his shoulder beginning to burn more fiercely. He poked his head up quickly and ducked as Holst turned and fired. As he crouched waiting, he tried to decipher the image imprinted on his mind. Had he seen the briefcase and the tape laying in the grass? Had Marlene actually been coming up behind Holst with the loaded speargun? Was that possible? Distract Holst, he thought. Don’t let him sense her! One bullet left! Jay threw another rock over the log, and another. No shots. He rolled back to his right—Holst’s blind side—and peered over again. Fire the bullet! he wanted to shout. He screamed at the German, who had not seen him.

  Marlene pulled the trigger. The spear shot forward and into Holst’s lower back. The German straightened up and spun to see who had ambushed him. He raised the gun, then looked back at Jay, swinging the gun around, uncertain which of them to shoot. He swayed on his feet, waving the gun like a drunk man.

  Shots rang out and bullets riddled Holst’s body. He slumped forward, collapsing onto the fallen log, only feet from Jay. The agents swarmed from out of the woods, thick black vests with the letters RCMP across their chests. There must have been a dozen of them.

  Epilogue

  Jay’s arm was in a sling. He sat on the pad in the cockpit. Marlene’s green eyes peered over the bow from her position behind the wheel. She was intent on what she was doing.

  “You’ve got an awfully serious expression on your face.”

  “I want to do this right.”

  “Considering your wrist, you’re doing fine. The lady’s fine,” he added.

  She smiled at him, eyes bright. “How does it feel?”

  “The shoulder?”

  She nodded, her blond hair falling across her shoulders.

  “Like someone shot me, I suppose. I hurt all over. I slept fourteen hours last night. It was nice of Galpin to let us see each other.”

  “Yes, he is a good man.”

  “So?”

  She looked at Jay curiously.


  “So what’s he say? Where do you stand? I’ve been kept in the dark for nearly a week.”

  “They have been debriefing me—I think it is called. I have told them everything, from the first day Holst approached me in Germany, to the night on the island.”

  “And?”

  “You mean punishment?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  “They call me state’s evidence. If I will tell the courts what I have been telling them, then they will try and get a suspended sentence. No promises. I take whatever they give me.”

  “And Wilhelm?”

  “He has not told them a thing. Did they tell you about the money?”

  “No.” Jay sat up.

  “The briefcase was filled with cash. They may give you a reward. I had a meeting with Kepella and a woman named Sharon Johnson. She was very nice. They were here for debriefing as well. She is with the CIA in Washington. She told me it is customary to give a ten-percent reward when cash is found in a case like this. Kepella said he would testify on your behalf.”

  “How much was in the suitcase?”

  She smiled and moved the wheel so The Lady Fine pointed into the wind.

  “What’s going on?” Jay asked.

  She hurried forward and expertly lowered both the mainsail and the jib. Jay watched her, impressed. She had learned well. She let the anchor overboard and pulled on it to make sure it was secure. They were on the far side of a small island. Not a boat for as far as the eye could see. She walked back, confidently, and unfastened her yellow terry-cloth coverup, slipping it off over her cast. She went below and, after a few minutes, returned with a large beach towel. She spread it on the floor of the cockpit, took Jay by the hand, and sat him down on the towel. She leaned toward him and kissed him gently on the mouth.

  He kissed her back, though shyly.

  She unbuttoned his Hawaiian shirt and slipped his arm out of the sling.

  He watched her, a smile on his lips. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  She lowered her eyes demurely and unfastened the top of her sky blue lycra suit. “I am working on being a stronger person.”

  He helped her to lay back and kissed her hungrily, touching her soft skin.

  “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

  The wind caught the unfurled sail and snapped the boom hard to port. The sailcloth tumbled down into the cockpit, covering them both. They laughed.

  Jay said, “Ready about, hard a-lee.”