Cold Harbour (31 page)

“Everything all right, sergeant?”

“All ready to go, sir.”

Edge staggered and Henderson reached out to steady him. “You okay, sir?” In the same moment he got a whiff of the gin, pungent on the morning air.

“Of course I’m okay, you idiot,” Edge told him. “Going to have some fun. I’m going to teach an E-boat a lesson.” He laughed. “By the time I’ve finished, Hare and Osbourne will know who the hero is around here. And won’t Munro just be properly grateful?”

He turned to the plane and Henderson grabbed his arm. “Just a minute, sir. I don’t really think you should be flying.”

Edge pushed him away violently and drew his Walther from his service holster. “Get away from me!”

He fired wildly into the ground at the sergeant’s feet and Henderson ran, ducking under the belly of the Junkers, taking cover on the other side. He heard the door clang shut in the fuselage. A moment later, the twin BMW radial engines rumbled into life. The aircraft started to move. Henderson ran inside the hangar and made for the office and the telephone.

AT THE ABBEY,
Munro and Jack Carter were just finishing their tea when there was a roaring overhead. “Good God, what was that?” the Brigadier said.

He moved to the french window, opened it and stepped on to the terrace in time to see the Ju88 sweep low over the
harbour and start to climb into the grey morning.

“What in the hell is going on, Jack?” he demanded.

The library phone started to ring. Carter answered it. Munro watched the aircraft go, aware of the murmur of conversation behind him. He turned and saw Carter replacing the phone, face troubled.

“What is it, Jack.”

“That was Sergeant Henderson, sir. It seems Joe Edge got him out of bed a little while ago to get the Ju ready for takeoff. Said it was an emergency.”

“An emergency? What bloody emergency?”

“He said he was going to teach an E-boat a lesson, sir. Said that by the time he has finished Hare and Osbourne would know who the real hero was and that
you’d
be properly grateful.”

Munro was astonished. “He must be mad.”

“Also drunk, sir. So drunk that he fired his pistol into the ground at Henderson’s feet when he tried to restrain him.”

“Dear God, Jack.” Munro’s face was white. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing we can do, sir. The
Lili
never uses her ship to shore radio. That’s always been a strict rule. You didn’t want the Royal Navy or the Coastguard listening in and wondering what was going on. Impossible to warn her. One thing we can do. If we drive up to the headland we can see the approach.”

“Then let’s get moving, Jack.”

Munro struggled into his Burberry and hurried out.

AS THEY APPROACHED
The Hanged Man in the other jeep, Carter at the wheel, Julie came out. Carter slowed down and she said, “What’s going on? What’s Joe up to?”

“Get in!” Munro ordered.

She scrambled into the rear and as Carter drove away, he said, “Edge appears to have blown his top.”

“We don’t really know, that, Jack,” Munro said. “He’s had a few drinks and he’s playing silly buggers, that’s all. It’s all going to be all right.”

“What is?” Julie demanded, so Carter explained as he drove up the track to the headland. When he was finished, Julie said, “He always was a little mad, now he’s gone over the top.”

They breasted the hill and bumped over the grass towards the edge of the cliff. Carter braked to a halt. “There’s a pair of binoculars here. Put them there myself.” He fumbled around under the dash. “Yes, here they are.”

They got out of the jeep and went forward. It was a strange sort of morning. The clouds were very low and black, stretching in a straight line to the horizon. There was some mist at sea level, but the wind kept blowing great gaps in it. It was rough now, the waves in on the beach below.

Suddenly Julie pointed. “There they are.”

The
Lili Marlene
came out of the grey morning about a mile away, moving towards Cold Harbour at speed, the Kriegsmarine ensign standing out vividly and then the Junkers simply swept out of the black cloud like some bird of prey and raced towards the E-boat at sea level. A moment later there was the sound of cannon fire.

EDGE HAD FIRED
wide of the
Lili Marlene
and banked to starboard. Craig and Genevieve had joined Hare in the wheelhouse for the final run to harbour.

“Jesus, it’s Edge,” Craig said. “What’s he playing at?”

Hare turned to the radio which was normally never used, flicked on the loudspeaker and picked up the hand mike. “Come in, Edge! Come in! What’s going on?”

The Junkers had banked again, was coming straight for them, and again cannon shell churned up the sea on their port side.

“Bang, you’re dead!” Edge’s voice was clear over the loudspeaker and he was laughing hysterically. “Can you hear me, Hare?” He lifted overhead. “You’ve really given us a lot of problems. The poor old Brigadier was most concerned. Far better if you and Osbourne and that stupid little Trevaunce bitch hadn’t come back at all.”

He banked again to starboard. Hare opened a locker, took out a bundled flag and pushed Langsdorff to one side. “I think we could have real trouble here. Have one of the men haul down the ensign and put that in its place.”

The bows lifted as he increased speed and spun the wheel, turning to starboard as Langsdorff went out. The Obersteuermann called to Wagner who came up the ladder. Langsdorff gave him the flag and his orders then returned.

“Still there?” Edge’s voice sounded again from the loudspeaker. “Try again, shall we? See how close I can get.”

He banked again, closing on the stern no more than fifty feet above the water as Wagner hauled down the Kriegsmarine ensign on the jackstaff above the wheelhouse. A moment later and the Stars and Stripes streamed out bravely. The sight enflamed Edge even more.

“Bloody Yanks!” he screamed.

Edge was very close now, opened up with his machine gun this time and got it badly wrong, ripping up the afterdeck on the starboard side, killing Hardt and Schneider instantly, driving them both over the rail into the sea.

“Jesus, he’s gone mad!” Craig said.

Already Wagner and Bauer were working the Bofors gun on the afterdeck, tracer streaming up in an arc, following the Junkers as it sped away and Wittig was hammering at it with the 20 mm ack-ack gun in the foredeck well.

The Junkers staggered as cannon shell punched holes in the starboard wing. Edge cursed and flung the aircraft to port. “All right, you bastards,” he cried. “If that’s the way you want it.”

He went down then, dangerously low and came in towards the stern again. Hare was giving the
Lili Marlene
everything she had, those tremendous Daimler-Benz engines responding at better than forty knots, crisscrossing from one side to the other. Edge had always been a great pilot, but the madness on him that morning seemed to give him the touch of genius for he closed at over four hundred miles an hour no more than thirty feet above the waves.

Craig grabbed Genevieve by the arm. “Down!” he cried and flung himself on top of her.

Edge used his machine guns again, ripping up the afterdeck, mowing down both Wagner and Bauer at the Bofors gun, shattering the wheelhouse windows, catching Langsdorff in the back, driving him headfirst through the door.

Suddenly, the
Lili Marlene
was slowing in the water. Craig stood up and as Genevieve joined him, she saw Hare slumped forward, blood on his reefer jacket. Half the controls had been shot away, and down on the foredeck Wittig was hanging over the ack-ack gun, supported only by its shoulder rests.

“You’re hurt, Martin.” She put a hand to his shoulder.

As he pushed her away the Junkers came in on the port side, raking the entire ship with cannon fire. The
Lili Marlene
was on fire now and below, through the smoke, she
saw Schmidt clamber across the foredeck to pull Wittig away so that he could get at the gun.

Hare said, “We’ve had it. Get Genevieve off.”

Craig pushed her ahead of him. There was already water slopping across the deck as Hare followed them. He and Craig wrestled to uncouple one of the rubber dinghies stowed on the afterdeck and got it over the rail.

Craig held the line. “Go on, get in!” he told Genevieve.

She did as she was ordered, losing her balance, falling headfirst into the dinghy and in the same moment, Edge came in towards the stern very low.

Hare said, “I’m going to get that son of a bitch,” and he turned and plunged towards the Bofors gun.

Craig hesitated then suddenly released the line and before Genevieve knew what was happening there were ten yards between her and the E-boat. “Craig!” she screamed but by then it was too late.

He was beside Hare at the Bofors, already knee-deep in water. “Concentrate on his belly,” Craig shouted. “Remember those nitrous oxide tanks.”

The Junkers came in hard, Edge giving them everything he had. The Bofors gun hammered in reply and Genevieve saw Martin Hare lifted up and blown back. And now Craig was at the gun, swinging to follow the Junkers as it passed overhead and started to climb.

The explosion, when it came, was the most catastrophic thing she had ever seen. The Junkers simply disintegrated into an enormous ball of fire as its nitrous oxide tanks exploded like a bomb, fragments of fuselage dropping into the sea all around.

A great wave pushed the dinghy up. She was already fifty yards away and moving fast. Genevieve saw the prow of the
Lili Marlene
lift high out of the water. There was no
sign of Craig Osbourne or little Schmidt, no one in the water that she could see. The prow lifted even higher, the Stars and Stripes flowering for a moment and then the
Lili Marlene
went down by the stern and slid under the surface.

ON THE CLIFFTOP,
Dougal Munro slowly lowered the binoculars, his face ashen. Julie Legrande was crying. Carter put an arm around her shoulder in some sort of comfort.

“What now, sir? I think I saw a dinghy down there.”

“Back to the village, Jack. Inform the coastguard. It won’t take the lifeboat long to get here from Falmouth. There’s always a chance.”

But he didn’t sound as if he believed that, even to himself.

THE DINGHY WAS
pitching violently. Genevieve had been sick so many times that there was nothing more to come. The sky was blacker than ever and it was raining heavily. Not that it mattered. With a foot of water in the dinghy she was soaked to the skin anyway and she just lay there, head pillowed on the side, as miserable as any human being could be.

It was perhaps three hours after the
Lili Marlene
had gone down that she heard the sound of an engine approaching. She pushed herself up and saw the Falmouth lifeboat bearing down on her. Five minutes later she was inside its cabin wrapped in blankets, one of the crew handing her a mug of coffee.

A man in oilskins came in, middle-aged with grey hair and a pleasant face. “I’m the coxswain, Miss. Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“We haven’t found anyone else.”

“I don’t think you will,” she said dully.

“Well, we’ll keep looking for another hour and then we’ll take you into Cold Harbour. Those are my orders.” He hesitated. “What went on out here, Miss? What was it all about?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I think it was a game that went wrong. A sort of ultimate stupidity, just like the war.”

He frowned, not understanding, shrugged and went out. Genevieve wrapped her hands about the mug, seeking comfort from its warmth, and sat there, staring into space.

CARTER IN THE
dark room, Munro at his side, gently unrolled the film. “Is it all right, Jack?” Munro asked. “I mean, she was in the sea for a long time.”

“Looks perfect to me, sir. I thought it would be. Even the cigarettes were bone dry in that case.” He held the film up.

Munro said, “And she maintains these are of the contents of Rommel’s briefcase?”

“Apparently, sir. Said there was more, but she only had twenty exposures.”

“A miracle, Jack. One of the major intelligence coups of the war. Eisenhower and his planning staff at SHAEF will be over the moon when they see this.” He shook his head. “She did it, Jack, a slip of a girl like her. A rank amateur. I was wrong.”

“Yes, but at what cost, sir?”

“The Luftwaffe raided London again last night, Jack. People died. Do you want me to go on?”

“No, sir. Point taken.”

Munro nodded. “I’ve calls to make to London. I’ll see you in the library in thirty minutes.”

“And Genevieve, sir?”

“Oh, bring her along by all means.”

GENEVIEVE LAY IN
the hot bath Julie had provided until the water started to cool. She got out and dried herself carefully. There were bruises all over her body, but she felt no pain. In fact, she didn’t feel anything. Julie had left underwear on the bed for her, a heavy sweater, cord slacks and jacket. She dressed quickly, was just finishing when Julie entered.

“How are you,
chérie?
”

“Fine, nothing to worry about.” She hesitated and then said calmly, “Any news?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I didn’t think there would be.”

“I’ve just seen Jack. He said the film turned out to be perfect. He asked me to give you this.”

She handed her the silver and onyx case. Genevieve smiled slightly and took it. “An interesting souvenir. Do I get to keep it?”

“I don’t know. Jack said Munro would like to see you in the library.”

“Good,” Genevieve said. “As it happens, I’d like to see him.”

She started to walk to the door, stopped and picked up Anne-Marie’s hunting jacket which lay in the corner with the other clothes she had taken off. She felt in the pocket and took out the Walther.

“Another interesting souvenir,” she said, slipped it into her pocket, opened the door and went out.

Julie stood there for a moment, frowning anxiously, then she went after her.

MUNRO WAS SITTING
in the wing-backed chair by the fire sipping brandy from a crystal goblet. Carter was standing at the dresser, pouring a Scotch when Genevieve entered the library.