by John Creasey
He stopped abruptly. The high, shrill note faded from his voice and he went on softly, even sibilantly, making his words far more impressive, holding the others still in a chill of horror reflected in the pallid face and shaking body.
‘Our great leader was missing, but we found him and you saved him, Señor Palfrey.’ He looked at Palfrey hopelessly. ‘Why did we save him? To see the death of his disciples and his friends? Just for that?’
‘He is safe,’ said Palfrey quietly.
‘God be praised!’ exclaimed Bombarda, jumping to his feet. ‘While there is José Fonesca there is hope! Where is he, Palfrey? Where did he go?’
‘We can’t tell you,’ Palfrey insisted. ‘We’ve no idea, except that he did get away.’
‘If I knew where he was it would strengthen my hope,’ exclaimed Bombarda. ‘Perhaps even now there is a chance that the Guarda will be overcome. If José Fonesca can talk to your leaders they will surely send all the help we shall require, to them it is but a trifle. How much help has been arranged, señor?’
Palfrey said, parrot-like, ‘We don’t know.’
‘But that is absurd!’ exclaimed Bombarda. ‘You must know how many ships and how many men you have detailed to send to Catania if there should be need of it.’
‘We don’t even know that it is being prepared,’ said Palfrey quietly.
‘It is absurd! It is—but no matter, I must believe you.’ Bombarda hesitated, then added abruptly: ‘But I begin to wonder whether that help we were promised is at hand, I begin to wonder whether we have not been maintained by false promises. Would your Government do that?’ Palfrey drew a deep breath.
‘It isn’t likely, but it isn’t likely either that it would take risks with an outlawed party in a neutral country.’
‘Oh, the English!’ exclaimed Bombarda. ‘Always the same, always the same! Friendly and smiling, but when it comes to action, nothing. But it will not avail you!’ he added sharply. ‘Better you had a thousand ships and a million men off the coast of Catania, for the Guarda wishes for war. It is on the side of Germany and Italy, and soon will declare war, but it needs provocation. It has prepared a story of how much help is being sent to the Social Patriots for the fight. Aeroplanes, bombers, arms, ammunition, men—ships! And more than that. There have been bomb outrages today throughout the country, and British bombs have been used.’ That’s absurd!’ exclaimed Brian.
‘Absurd?’ Bombarda swung round on him. ‘What are you, señor, a fool? Bombs captured from Libya, from Greece, from France and from Crete, arms and ammunition, too, that will be found in great quantities. It will be used, then offered as proof that you were ready to begin the revolution. It is not all the fault of Catania, nor of the traitors. The blockade, señors, has made our people hungry, and the ears of hungry people are always open to hear lies from those who promise to feed them.’ Palfrey said: ‘About these bombs—are you sure they are English?’
‘That man Silverra!’ exclaimed Bombarda. ‘He showed me splinters from them, señor. Oh, it is a cunning plan.’
They lapsed into a silence which was heavy and disquieting. How long it would have been before any of them spoke Palfrey did not know, but a disturbance came from the outside. Their jailors came, with two tin trays, weak coffee and dry bread. It was pushed in carelessly, and then the jailors went out, locking the door again.
For some minutes the four men stared at the food, and then van Hoysen said: ‘Who’s the Solomon to divide that banquet? Palfrey, I guess you’re good with a knife.’
Palfrey smiled, and divided the bread into four. At least it was a comforting thought that they were to have food.
The day dragged wearisomely.
No more food or drink was brought to them until six o’clock, and by then they had explored every inch of the cell, finding only the one ventilation hole above the door, and also the hole which led to the trap-door through which they had heard the sounds of the firing squad. Neither hole was large enough for even van Hoysen to get through.
They could just hear the lapping of the water from the further chamber, where the shooting had taken place. None of them talked of it, but Palfrey imagined that all of them were thinking that if they could get into the room and reach the river there was a chance that they could swim to safety, for the river must have an outlet not far away.
Soon after six their jailors came again.
With no idea of the purpose of the visit, they waited breathlessly while the key turned in the lock, and saw three guards standing outside, as well as the man who entered, a big, thin-moustached fellow who looked from one to another insolently, and then barked:
‘Bombarda, you!’
Bombarda gasped. For a moment he sat quite still on a palliasse; then he stood up slowly, and approached the door. At it he turned to the others, and bowed.
‘Adios, señors,’ he said very softly. ‘Perhaps after all I am right, and the cause will live.’
The door clanged, the key scraped.
Palfrey looked at the others silently.
In their minds was the thought expressed by Bombarda: obviously he expected to go to his death. They sat without speaking until a scraping sound above their heads attracted them, and a glow of yellow light appeared. They stared upwards as sounds travelled through – the tramp of marching feet, barked orders, the movements of guns. There was a tense moment as they waited, and then the guns crashed out.
A faint smell of cordite smoke seeped into the cell.
The light went out, and this time the trap-door was not closed, but none of them thought of the chances that offered, they were thinking only of Bombarda and the grave, proud dignity with which he had left them.
Then a fresh sound came.
It brought Palfrey to his feet and an exclamation from Brian’s lips. Van Hoysen stared at them in surprise as they jumped towards the wall, while from above their heads came a chattering noise like badly played castanets. Then they saw a little grey shape squatting in the hole and peering down at them, its chattering stopped. ‘The monkey!’ exclaimed Brian.
Chapter Twenty-Six
No Escape by the River
Palfrey stood to his full height, with a hand outstretched to attract the little creature’s attention. Brian joined him. The monkey jumped away, receding into the hole and chattering fiercely. It came out again after a pause, and Palfrey said quietly: ‘It’s the same little fellow.’
‘That’s fine,’ said van Hoysen in a fierce whisper. ‘Now what about taking a look out of that hole and seeing what there is around here? If you like to stay and play around with your monkey, that’s okay by me, but—’
He was interrupted by a fierce chattering from the monkey, which jumped down and landed on van Hoysen’s shoulder. Van Hoysen started, and stepped quickly to one side. The monkey maintained its fierce chattering and went sniffing about the room. It scratched at the door, then turned and went to the wall again, making frantic efforts to leap up.
‘All right, old son,’ said Palfrey gently. ‘It’s not your fault, is it?’ He lifted the creature to the ventilator, and it went chattering through, then jumped to the other side.
‘Well, I’m for following the monkey’s example,’ said van Hoysen. ‘Have a look at those bricks, Debenham, you’re the only one here with the height. Pull that table up to the wall.’
‘Steady,’ said Palfrey. ‘We don’t want to do anything while the light’s on.’
‘Why not?’ demanded van Hoysen sharply.
‘Because they’re probably watching and waiting for us,’ said Palfrey. ‘If I’m to be shot while attempting to escape I’d like to get part of the way, anyhow.’ He smiled a little. ‘The trap was left open as an invitation, Clem.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ said van Hoysen slowly. ‘I’m not so sure that it’s a time for all that caution.’
Palfrey shrugged.
‘Please yourself, but be careful when you get up there.’
The American climbed up with Brian’s help.
Slowly he inserted his head into the ventilation gap. It made the room darker, for he hid most of the light.
He said nothing, and the others kept very still.
After a while he withdrew his head, turned and climbed down. His face was twisted as he spoke.
‘The river’s there all right, I guess, and I can see where the poor palookas have been shot. The brickwork doesn’t seem as good as it might be, either. Where’s your knife, doc?’
‘Now look here,’ said Palfrey, ‘you’re being too hasty. Wait until it’s dark.’
‘Maybe they left that light on to make us think we were being watched,’ said van Hoysen. ‘Be yourself, doc; you can’t stop me trying, so why not make it easy? If I don’t get a breath of clean air soon I’ll be dying of suffocation, so what difference does it make?’
Reluctantly Palfrey handed him the knife.
Brian helped him to the table again, and van Hoysen put his hand inside the ventilation hole. After a few seconds they heard the scraping sound of the knife against the mortar.
‘It’s powdering fine, partners.’ He rubbed his wrist, aching with the unaccustomed movement, and then put his head through the opening again.
A shot broke the silence.
Loud and clear, it made the two men in the cell jump, made Palfrey’s heart beat fast. There was another shot, and then van Hoysen reared backwards, falling from the table and saved from hitting the floor only by Brian, who jumped forward. Something splashed on Brian’s face and hands, and van Hoysen remained a dead weight against him. Palfrey joined him and helped to lower the American.
There was a hole in the centre of his forehead, drilled clean by the bullet. It was bleeding slightly. Van Hoysen’s eyes were half-open, and there was a hint of surprise in his expression. His face was set, his lips were parted.
In the death that had come to him so quickly there seemed to be saturnine, almost mocking warning.
They lowered him to one of the palliasses, and Brian stared down at the set face. Palfrey turned away quietly, and thrust both his hands into his pockets. It seemed that the echoes of the shooting were only then in the room, and they imagined that they heard whispering voices and the chattering of the little monkey.
Brian covered the American’s face with a handkerchief, then turned away.
The cell had been silent before, but a greater silence, a hush of death, was in it then. Neither man spoke, neither moved. They sat side by side, looking towards the door. Brian’s cheeks were moving as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Palfrey closed his eyes, and sat back against the wall.
An hour passed.
Palfrey opened his eyes, turned, and saw Brian still staring towards the door.
‘We’d better try to get some sleep,’ he said. ‘If we lie full length we’ll be more rested, anyhow.’ He stood up, and between them they dragged the palliasses away from van Hoysen’s body, then stretched down on them.
It was a merciful slumber, and they did not stir in it.
They did not awaken until the door was flung open, and two men came in, carrying a stretcher. No word was spoken to Palfrey or Brian, but van Hoysen was put on to the stretcher and the men went out.
After a while, Brian said gruffly: ‘Well, Sap. Being American didn’t help him. Being English won’t help us. If only he’d listened to you!’
‘He wanted to get it over,’ said Palfrey. ‘He was too impatient, Brian; but probably he thought that it wasn’t a thing to wait for.’
Brian shrugged his shoulders and then turned restlessly towards Palfrey, hesitated, and said hesitantly: ‘I’d give a lot to know if José and Stefan did get away.’
‘I think they did,’ said Palfrey. ‘Silverra would have been more elated if he’d got them.’
‘That’s true.’ Brian lapsed into silence again, but it did not last for long. ‘Sap,’ he said.
‘Yes?’ asked Palfrey.
‘I—I can’t believe it of Drusilla.’
Palfrey said very softly: ‘I don’t want to, either. But we’re both prejudiced in her favour. It’s been a tricky game from the start, and we can’t be sure, not altogether sure. Besides—’
‘Yes?’ asked Brian quickly.
‘It could have been someone outside our party.’
‘Ye-es. Yes, why not?’ He hesitated, and then said abruptly: ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if Drusilla were all right, if we knew she was working against them. What a trick it would be, what a masterly bluff! Sap, d’you think it’s possible?’
‘Of course it’s possible,’ said Palfrey slowly. ‘If it comes to that, what isn’t? But we’d be wiser to put our money on the Marquis, Smith, Stefan and José. Not much doubt about that.’
‘No-o,’ said Brian, and abruptly: ‘I’d give a fortune to be able to see what Drusilla’s doing now, all the same.’
Drusilla was in bed.
She was awake, and lay back on the luxurious pillows, looking at the finely decorated ceiling. It was a fine room, a palatial one, at the Hotel da Casino at Torvil. After having breakfast and looking at the papers, she had a leisurely bath and then dressed.
She examined herself critically in a mirror, and announced herself satisfied.
At half past eleven there was a tap at the door.
De Barros smiled widely as he approached her, bowed over her hand, and assured himself that there was nothing that she wanted. He congratulated her on her good fortune at the tables on the previous night, and then after a pause went on: ‘And now, señorita, you look as lovely as you did then. I have been fortunate enough to be given leave for the day, señorita, and if there is anything you would like to do I would be only too glad to make it possible.’
‘That’s very pleasant,’ said Drusilla. I need some fresh air, Commandant.’
‘Oh, the English!’ exclaimed de Barros.
He was attentive throughout the day, but bored her progressively until she was glad when he had to return to Torvil, for duties which he did not specify. Not once was the subject of the Guarda Nationals mentioned, but when he saw her to her room she said lightly:
‘Have you found Fonesca, Commandant?’
He frowned.
‘Not yet, no. Nor that big Russian.’
‘What about—the others?’
‘They are being well cared for,’ said de Barros. ‘At your request, señorita, they will suffer no hardship, and when the revolution is over they will of course be freed. I wish—’
He stopped as someone tapped at the door, and stood back from her. As the door opened Drusilla’s face grew tense, but relaxed again.
The Marquis of Brett stepped through, smiled and bowed to Drusilla, and acknowledged de Barros.
‘I’m not interrupting, I hope?’ he said.
I was about to go, Excellency,’ said de Barros. He bowed stiffly to them both, and then went out of the room.
The door closed and Drusilla and the Marquis eyed each other for a few seconds without speaking. De Barros’s footsteps faded outside, and the Marquis said: ‘I always wonder if it’s really safe to talk here, but we haven’t been let down yet. I’ve no news of Brian and Palfrey, but José is hopeful that he can get enough men near a point on the coast to do all that’s necessary.’
Drusilla said: ‘We-ell. That’s the main thing.’ She was quiet for a moment, and then went on with a tense smile: ‘What a damnable time they’re having! If it hadn’t been necessary to make them think that I was working with Silverra it wouldn’t be so bad.’
The Marquis smoothed his hair with the palm of his hand, smiling a little as he went on: It’s been a tortuous business, ‘Silla, but we’re getting near the end, for better or worse. The weak link in the chain is Don Salvos. Stefan has gone to see him, with Hermandes Bombarda.’
‘Where is Vasca?’
‘I don’t know,’ said the Marquis. ‘There’s been no news of him for several hours.’ He took out a cigarette and fixed it thoughtfully in his long holder. ‘The waiting is difficult, but I don’t thin
k it will last long now.’
‘If it does, I think I’ll break down,’ said Drusilla tensely. ‘I’ve spent the day with de Barros. The over-dressed idiot, he—’
She eyed him steadily and went on: ‘Have you really convinced them that you’re throwing in your lot with them?’
‘I think so,’ said the Marquis. ‘It was the only thing to do, and I’ve been preparing it carefully for a long time. Silverra thinks that you and I are on his side, and it’s entirely up to us to keep him convinced. I know now where they keep most of their arms, and where they have their headquarters. All we need is the man-power, and someone to put up to take over the Government. Fonesca will have to do if there’s no one else, but he can’t lead a united country at the moment, and he readily admits it. I like Fonesca, but the chief hope is Don Salvos. There isn’t another man in the country who can do it,’ added the Marquis softly. I wonder what he has said to Stefan?’
‘When are you seeing Stefan?’
Tonight, after dark,’ said the Marquis quietly. I wonder if that Russian knows just how much depends on him?’
I wonder,’ said Drusilla. I think he does.’
