Against the Tide (33 page)

‘Hang on. Do you really think it's a good idea to get a taxi driver involved?'

‘Well we can hardly carry them on your thrusting steed.' His eyes lit up. ‘I know, I'll drive the MG.'

I groaned. ‘Just remind me what happened last time you tried that?'

‘So the roads are a bit narrow, I over corrected on a couple of corners –'

‘And your father forbade you from ever driving again. He even set up an account for you with Luxicabs so you wouldn't be tempted. I've never understood why he lets you use his boat anyway.'

‘Well, what his eyes don't see won't worry his wallet.'

‘Wallet? My father would drown me in the bloody bilges if I defied him like that.'

‘As you know, we can't choose our fathers but perhaps I've been luckier in life's lottery than you. Never mind the philosophy what are we going to do about the car?'

‘How long has it been in the garage?'

‘How should I know, I don't drool over it and polish its arse every week. A month or so?'

‘So the battery's probably flat. Has it got any fuel? Is there a starter handle?'

‘Okay, clever clogs, just because you can mate with anything mechanical, there's no need to be so bloody superior. You can drive the fucking thing, if you want.' He got up and rummaged in a cupboard then threw me a set of keys. ‘Instead of asking stupid questions, go and have a look for yourself.'

I caught the bunch and let them dangle from my hand. ‘I've been thinking about this all day. Have we've got this right? Get your atlas again. I'm still not convinced.'

‘Never thought you'd turn into Hamlet. Remember Shylock: “
A sentence, come prepare
” – surely you've sharpened your knife?'

‘But we still don't know if he's going to use the bloody boat. They could be flying directly to Berlin, freight to Cherbourg –'

‘You carry on torturing yourself and looking for excuses to back out if you wish, I'll get the atlas.'

Unbelievable, the studious wit, Saul Marcks, had turned into the man of action while I dithered and prevaricated.

He dumped the atlas on the table and turned to the double-page political spread showing Africa and Europe. Over half of Africa was coloured in the red of the British Empire.

‘Look, that green chunk is Belgian: Congo and Ruanda. Apart from Nigeria to the north, Gold Coast, Sierra Leone and tiny Gambia, the rest is run by the Frogs. It's a good 5,500 miles from those diamond mines by sea but once the ship is in international waters, it's safe. Try to transport diamonds by rail or road and you have to cross British or French territory. If you can get to Libya, it's possible the Italians would help but they'd want a big cut. It's possible by air but they'd have to land to refuel. No, it's much safer by sea, especially as the Portuguese control Angola which forms the southern border.'

‘But why bring the cargo to Jersey?'

‘You have to think like Hayden-Brown and his cronies. They can't rely on foreign customs not sniffing around. They might be able to bribe a few but they can't guarantee the cargo won't be intercepted and confiscated. I still think they will have rendezvoused somewhere outside territorial waters, unloaded their samples onto
Lorelei
and brought them ashore. They would have told harbour control they were out for a spot of fishing and didn't plan to visit France, so when they returned, there wouldn't be any customs visit.'

‘Caroline did say she thought he'd been to St Malo to collect them –'

‘There you are. Perfect. I bet you a pound of biltong to a pint of your sour milk that there's a cargo ship riding at anchor somewhere between Gorey and Granville.'

‘But, you can't just park your ship in the channel.'

‘Of course you can. The territorial waters only stretch for three miles from each coast in this area. So they would be in international waters and safe from any inspection. If some busybody did enquire, they could claim engine problems and say they were trying to fix them and waiting for a part from the opposite side.'

‘So you really believe there's six million carats of diamonds sitting in the hold of some ship just out of sight.'

‘Perhaps not six million, that's a lot of production, but I bet she's Portuguese.'

‘If you're right, then what we are planning is worth it –'

‘And if I'm wrong, it's still worth it. Just imagine the look on Hayden-Brown's face when his gin palace seizes up.'

‘Plan A will bugger his engines, plan B might. Do we need plan C?'

‘
Oy
fucking
vey
. Stop it already.'

His enthusiasm was becoming infectious. Now would be a good time. ‘I've got something else to ask you.'

‘Go on.'

‘Fancy a trip to Les Écréhous reef tomorrow afternoon?'

‘Why?'

‘Uncle Fred needs to meet someone from France. Immigration have confiscated his passport.'

‘What the fuck are you getting us into? Diamonds, sabotage and now some commie plot?'

‘Will you do it?'

He smiled. ‘Of course.'

‘Are you sure? It could be dangerous.'

‘Having you as a friend is dangerous but always interesting. If we're not banged up in prison, I'll get both of you out there. Hey, we could take a peek to see if I'm right about the freighter.'

‘There you are, plan C. Ram the fucker!'

‘That's the spirit. I'll need some help getting the boat out of the harbour though.'

I scratched my head. ‘Slight problem. I'm not going to be able to get away until lunchtime.' I was going to try to find out more about Hayden-Brown's plans, sneak around his house if I could, but Saul didn't need to know that. ‘What's the latest you can leave with the tide?'

‘Eleven o'clock and that's pushing it. If I can get over to the main harbour, I can wait by the lifeboat landing stage but I'll need help to get the legs in.'

‘I'll bring Alan to help you. He'd love an excuse to skip school for the morning.'

‘What, that
meschuge
brother of yours?'

‘He's fine. He's also very good with boats. He'll crew for you. Wait until midday and the rest of them can join you.'

‘Rest of
them
? How many more for God's sake?'

‘Only Malita. You can have a pleasant chat in Yiddish with her.'

32

After giving Fred the news and discussing arrangements, I rode back home, trying to work out how best to get Alan's cooperation.

He was in the kitchen munching on some toast while scanning the
Evening Post
. We might not have a telephone but the paper was delivered every evening.

‘You're in the manure' was his greeting.

‘How so?'

‘You forgot, didn't you?'

‘What did I forget?'

He folded the paper, wiped the crumbs away from his mouth and grinned. ‘It's Wednesday isn't it, third one of the month? What's special about that?'

I groaned.

‘Ah, the penny drops. White glove night for the old man. Full regalia at the temple and mum's knitting circle at the rector's. I won't even bother to repeat what Dad said. Anyway, I did your share so you owe me one.'

Normally, he'd be so cock-a-hoop that I'd messed up, he would be relentless in his teasing until I clocked him one. However, I needed him on side this evening.

‘Sorry, Alan, I've been a bit preoccupied.'

‘Is that the new word for it?'

‘I wanted to speak to you alone.' That got his interest. ‘I need your help.'

‘Yuk. You got two girlfriends, surely you can manage on your own.'

‘This doesn't involve either of them. Just you, me, a couple of friends and a boat trip.' I waved his question away. ‘Before I tell you any more, you need to swear on whatever it is you hold dear that you will not tell a soul about this.'

A flicker of alarm crossed his face. ‘Is it legal?'

‘Perfectly. Now, will you swear?'

He got up and walked to the dresser. I thought for one bemused moment he was going to get the Bible but he bent down and scooped up Tonto. The little cat wriggled in his arms as he held him between us.

‘I solemnly swear to keep my brother's nefarious activities secret – on Tonto's life.'

The little bundle shot free and rushed up the stairs. I always thought he understood more than he let on.

‘Okay, here's the deal. Tomorrow, I want you to take the morning off school and help Saul get his father's cruiser from St Helier to St Catherine's then take a trip around the Écréhous.'

He looked puzzled. ‘That's it? Hooking off school and swanning around in a boat? What's the catch? Who else is coming?'

‘Uncle Fred and Malita.'

He rolled his eyes. ‘They moving house?'

‘No, and you will be polite. Promise?'

‘Will we have time for some fishing and a swim?'

‘Yes.'

‘Will I have to be polite to Saul as well?'

‘No, you can be as rude as you like but don't come crying to me if he rips you apart with his tongue.'

‘So long as it's just his tongue.'

‘Do we have a deal?'

He considered for a moment. ‘Can I borrow your bike on Saturday?'

‘Okay, but don't push it any further. Tomorrow, we'll leave early, straight after milking, and I'll drop you at the harbour. Saul will meet you there.'

‘Okay if I bring my rod?'

‘Yes, that's fine but you'll have to manage it on the pillion.'

‘What about food?'

‘For God's sake, stop worrying about your stomach.'

‘Just because you've given up eating doesn't mean I have to.'

‘Food's taken care of.' Another lie. Though there might be some syrup. ‘Now, I'm going to be out for the rest of the evening so why don't you take
Smellie
, nip up to the field and get some target practice.'

‘You off to practise on your two targets, are you?'

‘Something like that. See you in the morning.'

While he retrieved his rifle from the gun safe, I sneaked the only two cans of golden syrup out of the larder and slipped them into my gym bag. I hid my torn trousers in my bedroom cupboard. Saul and I had decided that, if we were seen, we would bluff it out so I changed into overalls. What's more natural than a couple of mechanics fiddling about on a boat? Doing so in the dark might arouse suspicion so he was going to work out a cover story. On the way back to
Bessy
, I picked up a torque wrench and some smaller tools from the barn.

Had I gone too far by dragging my brother into this? My father would have a clear opinion and it wouldn't be delivered with his tongue. The boat trip shouldn't be dangerous and might not happen if Saul and I were caught tampering with
Lorelei
. Was I doing the right thing, or was this just plain stupid?

Hamlet's words had been ringing in my ears for much of the day but they only made me more determined that “
conscience”
wouldn't make “
cowards of us all.
” And, in the total absence of any action or leadership from the adults, ruining Hayden-Brown's deal to provide Hitler with these vital industrial diamonds was the only way I had of striking a blow against the fascists for what they had done to Fred, Miko and Malita.

By ten o'clock, the Old Harbour was deserted.
Jacob's Star
rode easily on her buoy. There were lights and noise from La Folie Inn but only dim reflections on the black water.
Lorelei,
with her ghostly-white hull, stood out against the darker walls. Saul commented that it was odd her dinghy was tethered to her side rather than on its davits or tied up against the wall. It might mean nothing as there were plenty of small punts available for boat-to-shore transfers. As
Lorelei
swung on her mooring, we could see faint lights peeping from three of the nine portholes on her port side. Curtains were drawn over the square windows in the main cabin under the wheelhouse but there was a perceptible glow behind them. It looked like plan A was scuppered before we began. She was moored about one hundred yards from us in a deeper part of the harbour though at low tide, like the rest of the boats, she was supported on legs to stop her toppling into the mud.

We observed for thirty minutes then the wheelhouse door opened and light spilled into her cockpit. The lamp was extinguished and a tall man lowered himself into her dinghy. The lazy sod fired up the outboard motor and chugged to the wall nearest the inn. He tied up, climbed the steps and disappeared into the noisy pub. With drinking-up time, he would be there for at least half an hour. There might still be a chance for plan A, after all.

We dropped into our dinghy and I sculled us over to the harbour wall as Saul had come up with an addition to our plans. I held us alongside
Lorelei
's dinghy while Saul stepped aboard. We weren't going to waste golden syrup on the engine as his plan was more direct. He fiddled about in the bilges and held up a round plug. He'd pulled the bung from the drain socket. With the weight of the engine, she'd sink into the mud in minutes. I sculled us away and over to
Lorelei
. They'd be able to retrieve the dinghy when the tide went out but the outboard engine would need a complete overhaul. Saul fended us off. We were working silently, using only hand signals. We seemed to be unobserved as we rested against
Lorelei
's steel side but the hairs on my neck prickled with the sense that we were being watched. I twisted around and scanned the harbour but couldn't spot anyone at all. Perhaps it was just nerves. Saul appeared calm enough. I hauled myself aboard then slithered into the large cockpit to search for the key. It wasn't there. Bugger, I tried a few other spots but no success. I crawled back to the side and leant over to Saul and whispered, ‘No key.'