36 Biggles Breaks The Silence

by Captain W E Johns

  "I still reckon he's got a nerve, coming in here like this," said the Skipper.

  "In what way?"

  "With all this loose ice about. The sea's full of it. He found a way in but that ain't to say he'll find a way out. If he happens to find himself between two big floes he's likely to finish up like the hulk behind us."

  "Men will take any risks when there's gold in the offing," observed Biggles.

  "All the same, he must be daft to take such a chance while ice is breaking off all along the shelf. I've been watching it."

  "Some people might say we're not entirely sane ourselves, bringing an aircraft to a place like this," Biggles pointed out.

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  "Aye, mebbe you're right at that," concurred the Skipper with a sigh.

  The Svelt came on, feeling her way cautiously. That the aircraft had been seen was obvious from the way the crew had collected forward to look. Biggles returned the inspection. Indeed, he went so far as to raise a hand in greeting.

  The ship came right in, for the water was deep right up to the edge of the shelf. Fenders were thrown out and the vessel edged alongside.

  "That's Lavinsky, the fellow in the peaked cap," the Skipper told Biggles quietly. "The other two I told you about, the two I called Shim and Sham, are on each side of him.

  They don't say much, but they don't miss much, either. I reckon they're the partners who finance Lavinsky."

  "Lavinsky was smart enough to get the position of the hulk when you were here with him the last time," murmured Biggles.

  "He couldn't have come straight here," argued the Skipper. "If he had we should have passed him on the way down. I'd say he took too much westerly, and finding he was wrong, worked his way along the shelf looking for the wreck."

  Biggles did not answer. He was staring at another figure that had appeared on deck. He caught the Skipper by the arm. "By thunder! They've got him," he ejaculated.

  "Got who?"

  "Ginger. There he is, on deck. They must have picked him up. That's a load off my mind anyway. That probably explains it."

  "Explains what?"

  "Why the Svelt came in here Ginger would have to tell them we were here to account for being here himself.

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  There was no reason why he shouldn't if it come to that. I wonder what else he told them."

  "If he's told them that we got the gold it won't be long before bullets start flying,"

  declared the Skipper grimly.

  "He hasn't told them anything of the sort."

  "Mebbe they've got the gold. We left Ginger sitting on it."

  "That doesn't mean he was still sitting on it when they picked him up," disputed Biggles.

  "We don't know about that; but what I do know is, Lavinsky hasn't got the gold under his hatches."

  "How do you work that out?"

  "Because if he had he'd have turned his ship north, not south. There would have been no need for him to hazard his ship coming here if he'd already got what he came for—

  unless, of course, he was decent enough to give Ginger a lift back."

  The Skipper laughed shortly. "Ha! I can't see Lavinsky doing that."

  "Keep that muffler up over your face," said Biggles softly. "I don't think he's realised yet who you are."

  Further conversation of an intimate nature was prevented by the arrival on the ice of Lavinsky and his owners, Shim and Sham. Lavinsky spoke first. "I've brought one of your boys along," he announced.

  "So I see," replied Biggles civilly. "Much obliged to you. I was worried about him."

  "He tells me you're down here on an exploring trip for the British Government."

  Biggles smiled faintly. "That's right. This is a Government outfit."

  At this point, now that he was close, Lavinsky appeared to notice the Skipper for the first time. That recognition

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  was instantaneous was obvious from the way his expression changed. So had his voice changed, when he said: "So you're here."

  "Looks like it," answered Skipper.

  Lavinsky nodded. "Now I get it." He hesitated as if uncertain how to proceed. Then he went on: "Well, I reckon it's no use beating about the bush," he said slowly. "Where's the wreck?"

  The Skipper pointed. "She's suffered a fair bit of damage since you were here last. Her masts are down and she's well under the ice."

  Lavinsky regarded the ice that hid the actual timbers of the vessel. "I see," he murmured.

  "Is the gold still in her?"

  "No."

  Lavinsky's eyes narrowed as they rested on the Skipper. "How do I know that?"

  "Go and look for yourself."

  "Where is it?"

  Biggles stepped into the conversation. "That's just what we should like to know."

  "You mean—you haven't got it?"

  "Should we be here if we had?"

  "Are you kidding?" Lavinsky's eyes grew dark with suspicion.

  Biggles raised a shoulder. "There's the hulk, there's my' machine. You won't find any gold in either. You have my permission to look."

  "Permission!" Lavinsky's tone hardened. "Who do you think you are to give me permission to do anything? I do what I like."

  "I wouldn't start talking like that," suggested Biggles quietly. "I'd better warn you that the salvage of that ship has been acquired by the British Government. I'm here under Government orders, with Government equip-106

  ment, to collect anything worth taking home. Which means, Mr. Lavinsky, that before you can enter that hulk you have to ask my permission, I being the head of the salvage operation."

  Lavinsky turned an evil eye on Ginger, who had now come ashore and was standing beside Biggles. His whole attitude was one of calculating malice. "This is a different tale from the one you told me," he said harshly.

  "Not at all," denied Ginger. "I answered your questions fairly. If I didn't volunteer any details it was because I saw no reason to. It wasn't my place to, anyway."

  Lavinsky considered the matter. He looked at his two companions, but their faces were expressionless and he found no inspiration there. He took a cigar from an inside pocket, put it in his mouth, lit it, and flung the match down. "Well, what are we going to do?" he demanded viciously.

  "Do about what?" asked Biggles.

  "The gold? What else do you think I'm interested in?"

  "If you're asking for my advice, here it is," returned Biggles smoothly. "As there's nothing for you to do here you'd better turn round and make for home before you get gripped in the ice and finish up like that hulk."

  "Me go home? With nothing? Not likely."

  "Please yourself. I can't stand here talking any longer. I've got things to do."

  "How about splitting the gold two ways," suggested Lavinsky. "I reckon you could do with some of it, and I ain't greedy."

  "At the moment there's no gold to split, even if I agreed to your proposal. Which I wouldn't, because as

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  I have already told you, it belongs to the people for whom I happen to be working,"

  answered Biggles coldly.

  "You say it isn't in the hulk?"

  "It is not."

  "Then Larsen must have hid it somewhere. This boy of yours told me he was living in the hulk."

  "He was," confirmed Biggles. "I don't know where he is now. He greeted me with an axe and then bolted. He's mad, so be careful if you run into him."

  Lavinsky laughed unpleasantly. "You needn't worry about me," he said meaningly.

  "I'm not worrying about you," answered Biggles calmly. "I'm just warning you, that's all.

  I say the man is insane, and as you know it you've no excuse for anything that may happen. To make my meaning quite clear, I'm not prepared to stand here and see murder done, if that's what's in your mind. Larsen was once a member of your crew. You abandoned him—oh yes, I heard about that—so you're responsible for what's happened to him. In those circumstances the least you can do is treat him decently and take him to a place
where he can get medical attention. With a ship you are better able to do that than I am with an aircraft."

  Lavinsky drew deeply at his cigar and expelled the smoke slowly. "I'll decide what to do with him when I've found him," he stated. A sneer crept into his voice as he went on. "

  Meanwhile, have I your permission to look through the hulk?"

  "You have. That, of course, doesn't give you the right to take anything away."

  Lavinsky looked sideways at his companions and jerked his head towards the wreck. "

  Come on," he said. Followed by his companions he strode away to the hulk, went up the ice steps and disappeared down the companion-way.

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  Biggles watched them go. "Things seem to be getting complicated," he murmured.

  Then, turning to Ginger, he inquired: "Well what have you to say for yourself?"

  It did not take Ginger long to narrate the unpleasant adventure that had befallen him and the remarkable manner of his escape.

  "So you left the gold on the ice," said Biggles thoughtfully, when he had finished.

  "What else could I do?"

  "Nothing," admitted Biggles. "Had you told Lavinsky that the gold was under his nose you wouldn't be here now—neither would the Svelt. Have you any idea of which way you were drifting when you were picked up?"

  "Slightly north of east, as near as I could tell." "How big was the floe you were on?"

  "Fairly big—say, about three acres altogether." "What shape, was it?"

  "Wide at one end• and narrow at the other. Something like the shape of a pear, only the marrow end tailed off to a point."

  "Not big enough to land on?"

  "No."

  "Would you know it if you saw it again?"

  "I think so—provided, of course, there weren't a lot more like it. I should know for certain if I could get close because I fixed one of my sticks in the gold. I doubt if you'd see it from a distance, but it does at least mark the position of the gold on the floe.

  Luckily the gold was under snow; that's why Lavinsky didn't see it."

  At this juncture Lavinsky and his companions reappeared and rejoined the party standing by the aircraft. "I reckon you're right," conceded Lavinsky, speak-

  .

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  ing to Biggles. "Somebody's been in since I was last there —left food and stuff lying about. The gold's gone."

  "You're telling me what I've already told you," replied Biggles.

  "Sure. But I wanted to—" Lavinsky's eyes went to the aircraft.

  "You still think it might be in my machine?" suggested Biggles softly.

  "It could be."

  "I told you it is not."

  "All the same, it might be."

  "If I say it isn't, it isn't," said Biggles shortly. "Still, you can go and look if you like. I only wish the stuff was on board because I could then turn my tail to this perishing country."

  "Yes, I suppose that's right," said Lavinsky in a low voice, as if speaking to himself.

  Nevertheless, he walked over to the machine and looked in the cabin.

  When he came back Biggles said : "Well, I hope you're satisfied."

  Lavinsky did not answer. To his companions he muttered : "Let's get aboard and talk it over." They went back to the Svelt.

  "We'd better talk things over, too," suggested Biggles. "I think the aircraft is the best place." He led the way to the cabin.

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  XI

  MOVE AND COUNTER-MOVE

  WHEN they were all assembled in the cabin Biggles opened the debate by saying: "Well, this is a pretty state of affairs. Queer, isn't it, how shows of this sort never seem to run smoothly. That piece of ice on which we piled the gold must have been there for years, but it had to choose to-day, of all days, to break off. Yesterday it wouldn't have mattered.

  To-morrow it wouldn't have mattered, either. But no. It had to be to-day, at the very hour Ginger decided to sit on it. That's how things go. To complicate matters, Lavinsky rolls up. In a way that may have been lucky; no doubt Ginger thought so at the time, although I still think we had a good chance of finding him without any help from Lavinsky. .But that's past history. The question is, what next?"

  "How about looking for the gold," suggested Ginger.

  "I have every intention of looking for it," replied Biggles. "But how are we going to set about it without Lavinsky realising what we're doing. He's sick at losing the gold and he won't give up easily. He's boiling up for trouble even now. If it comes to war someone will get hurt, that's certain—although as long as it isn't Lavinsky he won't care. He's the type that soon gets my goat, and I'm standing for no nonsense from him. But even with Algy and Bertie here the odds would still be on his side, so if we can get the gold and clear out without a stand-up fight, so much the better. There's nothing we can do for the moment, because we've got to wait for Algy to come in. He should be here in half an 111

  hour or so. When we hear him coming we'll light a smudge fire and mark out a landing ground. As soon as he gets safely down we'll explain the position to him and then start looking for this pear-shaped floe of Ginger's. I'm afraid locating it is going to be no easy job; and even if we do locate it, to get the gold into the aircraft without Lavinsky spotting what's going on will be another pretty problem. There is this about it; we shall soon know the worst, for the simple reason we haven't enough petrol to cruise about indefinitely."

  "What do you reckon Lavinsky will do, now he's satisfied we haven't got the gold and it isn't in the hulk?" asked Ginger.

  "I wouldn't say he's satisfied." returned Biggles. "He must know the gold can't be far away, so as soon as he gets over the shock of finding us here he'll start looking for it, or try to work out what could have become of it. He won't leave here while there's the slightest chance of it still being in the vicinity, you can bet your boots on that. Like us, he's chewing it over from his angle. I don't think he'll guess that we've found the gold and moved it, because, on the face of it, there was no earthly reason why we should do anything of the sort. All he knows is, the gold isn't where it was when he last saw it. The stuff couldn't have moved itself so somebody must have shifted it. Only one person has been here as far as he knows, and he was here long enough to distribute the stuff all over the landscape if he felt like it—Larsen. The first thing he'll do, then, is look for the Swede. Were I in his position I should probably do the same thing, although I should ask myself why should Larsen move the gold knowing perfectly well that the chances of anyone landing here were remote."

  "Larsen's mad, and who can say what a madman will do," murmured the Skipper.

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  "True enough," agreed Biggles. "Anyhow, the stuff has gone, and ruling out the possibility of anyone else coming here, only Larsen could have moved it. Of course, Lavinsky won't overlook the possibility of it being hidden somewhere in the hulk, so it's quite likely that he'll pull the timbers apart looking for it. There's nowhere else for him to look. It wouldn't be much use starting to search the whole landscape. I only hope it doesn't occur to him to wonder why we didn't pull the ship to pieces in a hunt for it, because if he starts thinking on those lines he may tumble on the truth—that we know more about the gold than we pretend. It boils down to this. I think Lavinsky will thoroughly search the ship. When that fails he'll look for Larsen, hoping that if he can find him he'll be able to tell them where the gold is hidden."

  "Larsen wouldn't tell Lavinsky anything," put in the Skipper. "He knows what sort of man he is, Mad though he may be, Larsen would know that once Lavinsky had his hands on the gold his life wouldn't be worth a mouldy biscuit."

  "Lavinsky will watch us," observed Ginger.

  "Of course he will," agreed Biggles. "And for that reason I don't feel inclined to stay where he can see everything we do. That's been in the back of my mind all the time we'

  ve been talking; and I think I've got the answer. We'll move back to our old camp. The tent is still there, and enough stores to last for some time
. Lavinsky would find it more difficult to watch us. He may think we've gone. If he does, so much the better, although I don't care much what he thinks. Another point is, the old camp lies to the east, and as the ice drift is that way we shouldn't have so far to fly when looking for Ginger's floe."

  "How do you intend to get the gold from the ice to 113

  the machine even if we find it?" asked Ginger. "That's what beats me."

  "It beats me, too," confessed Biggles. "Of course, a lot would depend on where we found the floe—I mean, its position in relation to the main pack. If the floe has drifted a long way out to the sea we might as well go home, because the only thing that could get to it then would be a marine craft. I doubt if we could get one here in time to save it. The floe would start melting as soon as it came in contact with warmer air and water and the gold would finish at the bottom of the sea. But let's take one thing at a time. Our first job is to locate the gold."

  "Are you going to wait here for Algy to come?" asked the Skipper.

  "I don't think so," decided Biggles. "There's no point in it. We might as well move now.

  We can make a signal to him when we're in the air and tell him we're moving a mile or two eastward. We'll make a good smoke; that will show him where we are. I was only hanging about here in the hope of getting a line on what Lavinsky intends to do —not that it's really important as long as he doesn't interfere with us. The only thing about that is, we ought to know what he's doing about Larsen. The wretched fellow must be got home somehow—but we'll deal with that later on. Let's get back to the old camp; Algy must be getting close."

  "What's Lavinsky going to think when he hears us start up?" asked Ginger.

  "I've told you before I don't care what he thinks," returned Biggles. "If he was quite certain that we hadn't found the gold no doubt he'd be glad to see us out of his way. Let's get mobile."