The Corners of the Globe (3 page)

‘No,’ said Fontana warily. ‘But we’ve, er, only just met.’

‘Is that so? Well, now I’m pleased to meet you.’ Fontana was more or less obliged to shake Selwyn’s hand. ‘And you are?’

‘Lieutenant Grant Fontana, United States Navy.’

‘A long way from home?’

‘Quite some way, yuh.’

‘Like me and Max. We’re all strangers here.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought this was your kind of place, Selwyn,’ said Max, hoping though not necessarily believing that Selwyn’s presence in the Albert was just an unfortunate coincidence.

‘It isn’t. I only came here because you did.’

‘Are you saying . . . you followed me?’

‘Yes.’ Selwyn grinned blithely and Max saw Fontana’s face cloud with anger. ‘Don’t reproach yourself. I did a good many recceing missions behind enemy lines in the war. I’m no slouch when it comes to seeing without being seen.’

‘Why would you want to follow him?’ Fontana asked, assembling a pseudo-genial smile of his own.

‘Let’s not be coy, gentlemen. You two are, it pains me to have to say, up to no good.’

‘Pardon me?’ Fontana looked suitably taken aback.

‘What manner of no good I neither know nor care. It’s entirely your affair.’

‘This is ridiculous, Selwyn,’ said Max. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’

‘Your name isn’t Max Hutton, is it . . . Max?’ There was absolute certainty in Selwyn’s alarmingly round-eyed gaze. He knew.

‘What?’

‘It’s Maxted. James Maxted. We were at Eton together.’

Damn, thought Max. Damn it all to hell.

‘I was two years below you, so naturally you don’t remember me. Equally naturally, I do remember you. Ironically, most people would think me older than you now. It must be on account of the different wars we had. Mine took rather more out of me than yours evidently did out of you. But then you always did have an enviable quality of effortlessness. I remember watching you score a fifty for the second eleven once. Against Marlborough, if I’m not much mistaken. Lovely timing.’

Denial was futile. Max knew that even if Fontana did not. But what was the alternative? ‘You’re mistaken, Selwyn. I can—’

‘Please don’t. We both know it’s true.’ He was speaking quietly now, almost indulgently. ‘I felt sure we’d met before when you introduced yourself on the ferry. It only came to me later, though. James Maxted. Known as Max. Not Max Hutton. From which it followed you had not lost a brother on the
Vanguard
. That was all make-believe. But to what end? Well, as I say, I’m happy to let you keep that to yourselves.’

‘What makes you think I have the remotest clue what this is all about?’ cut in Fontana.

‘You mean what persuades me you are co-conspirators rather than chance acquaintances? Your carefully choreographed meeting at the harbour this morning, Lieutenant Fontana, as observed by me from the Ayre Hotel with my trusty binoculars. That is what persuades me. Max here travelling under an alias, and you patently straying from whatever duties you may have with the minesweeping fleet.’

Selwyn made a sudden grab for the newspaper, but Fontana slammed his hand down across it to stop him. They stared at each other for a moment, fury – at Selwyn, at Max, maybe even at himself – simmering in Fontana’s eyes.

‘Well, the point is made.’ Selwyn sat back in his chair and swallowed most of his whisky. ‘Here’s the thing, gentlemen. Our parents left Susan and me poorly provided for. My researches have committed me to an extensive – and expensive – programme of travel. I don’t expect my findings, when published, to be particularly lucrative. I may need to look to posterity for my greatest reward. But none of us can live on air, can we? And I should like Susan to have a more comfortable existence than she can currently afford. I foresee an offer of marriage, from a lamentable source, which she may feel obliged to accept. I should like to spare her that. I should like to give us both a little freedom in which to consider our futures. Shall we say . . . a thousand pounds?’

‘You’re out of your god-damn mind,’ said Fontana levelly.

‘You’re not the first to have said that, Lieutenant Fontana. But my sanity really isn’t the point. The point is that I shall notify the Kirkwall police and your commanding officer of my suspicions that you are engaged in some form of criminal enterprise unless you agree to buy my silence. I’m sorry the price is a little steep, but, as I’ve explained, I have my sister to consider as well as myself. On the other hand, I’m not unreasonable. You can pay me in instalments. Why don’t we say a hundred pounds as a down-payment? I’ll give you until the banks open on Monday to mull it over. But do mull thoroughly. I can’t prove a great deal beyond Max’s act of imposture. But I suspect all the official attention I can ensure you receive will scupper your plans, or at any rate greatly complicate them. Not that I’m inflexible. Far from it. A counteroffer on your part – a share of the proceeds of whatever you’re planning, for instance – will receive my serious attention. Do you see, gentlemen? You have to deal with me, irksome as it may be. Now, I’ll leave you to enjoy your drinks – and all the local gossip.’ Selwyn pointed airily at the
Orcadian
, still held firmly in place by Fontana. ‘Illuminating, I’m sure.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I’ll bid you good evening.’ He turned towards the door, then turned back again. ‘By the way, Max, there’s no need to let this stand in the way of your accompanying us tomorrow. Susan will be disappointed if you don’t. And so will I.’ He essayed a form of salute to them both. ‘I’ll look forward to hearing from you.’

‘
YOU DAMN FOOL
,’ growled Fontana in the dark doorway along Mounthoolie Lane, where they had retreated from the Albert following Selwyn Henty’s departure. Max sensed Fontana wanted to shout at him, even strike him, but the need for secrecy held them both in its grip. The recriminations, bitter as they were, could only be whispered. ‘Because you couldn’t keep yourself to yourself on the ferry, we’ve got a blackmailer on our backs.’

‘How was I to know I’d meet someone who knew me at school?’ Max protested.

‘You shouldn’t have taken the chance. It looks to me as if that expensive education you had didn’t include a short course in common sense.’

‘Let’s not panic. I’m not travelling light when it comes to cash. We can agree to Henty’s terms and pay him a hundred quid on Monday. That’ll keep him quiet until I’ve been out to the ship. After I’ve got what I’m going there for, he can say what he likes. He can’t prove anything. He said so himself.’

‘You mean you get clean away and leave me to face the music.’

‘What music? There’ll be nothing for the police to investigate.’

‘We’d better hope that’s right. You louse things up Monday night and it could be a different story. If the British guard squadron reports any kind of incident, Henty’s allegations will get a lot of attention. And I’ll be in it up to my neck.’

‘I’m not going to louse things up.’

‘Really? Well, excuse me for pointing out that your record to date doesn’t inspire confidence.’

‘It’ll be all right. For God’s sake, what else can we do but play for time? The mission’s vital. It takes absolute priority. Haven’t you been told that?’

‘Yeah, I’ve been told. The mystery to me is why, if it’s so vital, a bungler like you was sent to carry it out.’

‘The boss trusts me. And he’ll expect you to trust me too.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Fontana tossed his head and took a few fretful strides along the lane, then stalked back to where Max was waiting. ‘All right. We’ll keep Henty sweet. Tell him we’ll pay up. But negotiate a lower figure. Or at least try to. He might get suspicious if we give in too easily.’

‘OK. I’ll do that.’

A silence followed, during which Fontana chewed over his anger, evidently long enough to swallow it. Then he said, ‘If all goes well, we won’t meet again. I’ll check with the Ayre that you’ve booked out on Monday and assume you’re proceeding as per my arrangements with Wylie.’

‘I’ll be proceeding. You can rely on it.’

‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’ Fontana pulled up the collar of his greatcoat and headed off without a backward glance. He had no more to say. His opinion of Max was clear. And Max could hardly blame him for holding it.

‘Hell and damnation,’ he muttered to himself.

Max returned to the Ayre Hotel cursing Fontana for being right. This was all his own fault.

But there was work to be done. ‘Have a pot of tea sent up to my room, please,’ he instructed the young man behind the reception desk. ‘And a jug of hot water. Very hot. I like my tea piping.’

‘The kitchen’s closed, sir.’

‘Just tea and hot water. No milk.’ He slipped half a crown into the young man’s hand. ‘There’s a good fellow.’

Max headed straight upstairs, relieved to reach his room without encountering Susan or Selwyn, or, worse still, the pair of them. Once inside, he took the letter out of the copy of the
Orcadian
Fontana had given him.

The name was written on the envelope with an italic pen in a neat, brisk hand.
Fregattenkapitän L. Schmidt
. Was it Lemmer’s writing? Max had no way of telling. He had seen no examples. But it seemed to him the sort of writing Lemmer might have.

Fritz Lemmer. The boss. The man who had sent him to Orkney. Max remembered him standing with his back to the sunlight flooding through the French windows in the eerily unfurnished chateau near Paris where they had met three weeks before.

A grey-bearded, bespectacled man of dignified bearing, learned, you would have said, expert in some esoteric field, yet light on his feet, square-shouldered, physically as well as mentally alert. The doors were half-open behind him. Birdsong drifted in on the breeze. There was something hypnotic in his tone of voice, something infinitely persuasive. The soundness of his judgement, it implied, was unassailable.

‘How gratifying to have your allegiance, Max. I am impressed you grasped the logic of accepting my invitation. Your first task is uncomplicated, though that does not mean there will be no difficulties. There are always difficulties. Do not resent them when they arise. They will harden you. They will expand your capabilities. I want you to travel to Glasgow. Yes, Glasgow. Wait there for further instructions. Nadia will deliver them. Arrange with her how she can contact you. I assume I do not need to tell you not to use your real name. But stay Max. First names stick. Last names are . . . flexible. It may be a long time before you hear from Nadia. That will be your first test. To wait – patiently and inconspicuously – until you are needed. If you perform the task well, when the time comes, I will have more interesting work for you. More challenging. More rewarding. The future, Max. That is where we are going. Others falter. Others stand still. We go forward.’

Max was part of Lemmer’s team from that day on. The realization was chilling, even though he had chosen to take on the role. His motive was his defence, a motive he could only pray Lemmer had no inkling of. As for Nadia, there too came a chilling realization. She was not merely one among who-knew-how-many operatives Lemmer deployed for his purposes. She was close to him. She was someone he relied upon, someone who might know more about him than most.

Max had ample time to dwell on such issues while he kicked his heels in Glasgow. He found a gymnasium where he could work off some of his frustration on the punch-bag and dumbbell. He took walking trips around Loch Lomond. He killed innumerable hours lying on the bed in his hotel room reading Sax Rohmer stories. He prowled the city. He lingered in cafés. He waited it out.

Nadia eventually made contact, as agreed, through the personal column of the Glasgow
Evening News
. They met amid the seventeenth-century Dutch masterpieces in Kelvingrove Art Gallery. Nadia, with her glossy dark hair and pale complexion, looked exotically mysterious in an elegant coat and dress. She evidently saw no need to blend with the background. After more than a fortnight of Glaswegian dourness, Max was at once reminded of how powerfully alluring she was. But it was vital never to forget how treacherous she could also be.

They were both working for Lemmer now, though. And Nadia for one was not about to betray him. ‘How are you enjoying Scotland, Max?’

‘It’ll be no hardship to leave it.’

‘Ah, but you are not leaving. You are being sent north. To Orkney.’

‘Orkney?’

‘The German fleet has been held at Scapa Flow since the Armistice. It is uncertain what will happen to the ships under the peace treaty. He cannot wait until then.’ She habitually referred to Lemmer by the personal pronoun rather than his name. It reminded Max, as perhaps it was meant to, of the respect she had for him. ‘The captain of one of the ships has something he wants. You will collect it.’

‘I imagine the Royal Navy’s keeping a close eye on those ships. Collection won’t be easy.’

‘An American officer called Fontana will assist you. He is with a US minesweeping fleet working there. You are to meet him in Kirkwall next Saturday.’

‘What am I collecting?’

‘A file. Grey. With the letters NBM on the cover. You have that? NBM.’

‘I have it.’

‘The captain’s name is Schmidt. Lothar Schmidt. He will know what you want.’

‘Which ship does he command?’

‘I do not have that information. Fontana will know.’

‘I’m to be drip-fed, am I?’

‘You are on trial, Max. Concentrate on doing what you have been told to do.’

‘I will.’

She smiled tightly. ‘Good.’

They adjourned to the gallery tea-room. Nadia appeared to feel Max needed reminding of the seriousness of what he was about to embark upon.

‘Mistakes can be costly in this work, Max. You understand?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘He rewards success. He punishes failure.’

‘Of course. It’s his nature.’

‘Yes. It is.’

‘When did you first meet him, Nadia?’

She looked at him narrowly. ‘You should not ask me that.’

‘You know when
I
first met him.’

‘Still you should not ask me.’

‘If not when, then where? St Petersburg? Berlin?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want me to go on guessing?’