The Black Shrike by Alistair MacLean

“I don’t have to tell you.”

“Fleck’s our only hope.”

“You’re out of your mind, man!”

“Listen, carefully, captain. Fleck’s a crook, a scoundrel and an accomplished rogue, but he’s no megalomaniac monster. Fleck would do anything for money-except one thing. He wouldn’t kill. He’s not the type, he’s told me so and I believe him. Fleck’s our only hope.”

I waited for comment, but there was none, so I went on: “He’ll be coming ashore any moment now. Speak to him. Shout and wave your arms and curse him for the damned renegade you say he is, the way you would be expected to do, nobody will pay any attention except LeClerc and Hewell and all they’ll do is laugh, they’ll think it highly amusing. Tell him what I’ve told you. Tell him he hasn’t long to live, that LeClerc will leave no one behind to talk. You’ll find that LeClerc has spun him some cock-and-bull yarn about what he intended to do here, one thing you can be certain of, LeClerc never told him of the rocket or what he intended to do with the rocket, he would never have dared with Fleck and his crew calling so often at Suva and other Fijian harbours where one careless word in a bar would have ruined everything. Do you think LeClerc would have told him the truth, Captain?”

“He wouldn’t. You’re right, he couldn’t have afforded to.”

“Has Fleck ever seen the rockets before?”

“Of course not. Hangar doors were always closed when he called and he was allowed to speak only to the officers and the petty officer who supervised the unloading of the boat. He knew, of course, that it was something big, the Neckar was often anchored in the lagoon here.”

“So. But he’ll see the Black Shrike now, he can’t help seeing it from where he’s berthed at the end of the pier. He’ll have every justification for asking LeClerc questions about it and I’m much mistaken if LeClerc will be reluctant to talk about it. It’s the dream of his life and he knows that Fleck won’t live to talk about it. Fleck might even then still have some doubts left as to what’s in store for him, so just that he can understand exactly what kind of man he’s dealing with, tell him to go-no, better tell him to send Henry, his mate, he himself better not be seen to be missing-to see what LeClerc really is capable of.” I told Griffiths exactly how to find the spot where Hewell and his men had broken through the hillside, told him where to find the cave with all the dead men. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are two more dead men there now, Fijian boys. And ask him to find out if the radio in LeClerc’s cabin is still there. After Henry comes back Fleck will have no more doubts.”

Griffiths said nothing. I only hoped I’d convinced him: if I had I couldn’t leave it in better hands, he was a wily old bird and sharp as they came. By and by I heard a movement as he got to his feet. I peered out of the corner of one eye and saw him walking slowly away. I twisted round till I saw the pier. Fleck and Henry, dressed in their best off-whites were just leaving the schooner. I closed my eyes. Incredibly, I went to sleep. Or perhaps not so incredibly. I was exhausted beyond belief, the aches in my head and face and shoulder and body merging into one vast gulf of pain. I slept.

When I woke up I’d yet another ache to add to my lists. Someone was kicking me in the lower ribs and he wasn’t trying to tickle me, either. I twisted my head. LeClerc. Too late in the day for LeClerc to learn the more rudimentary rules of courtesy. Blinking against the sun, I turned round till I was propped up on my good elbow, then blinked again as something soft struck me in the face and fell on my chest. I looked down. A hank of cord-window cord-neatly rolled up and tied.

“We thought you might like to have it back, Bentall. We’ve no further use for it.” No fury in that face, not the vindictive anger I would have expected, but something approaching satisfaction. He looked at me consideringly. “Tell me, Ben-tall, did you really think that I’d overlook so obvious a possibility-to me the certainty, rather-that you wouldn’t hesitate to jinx the second Shrike when you knew there would be no further danger to yourself? You sadly underrate me, which is why you find yourself where you are now.”

“You weren’t as smart as all that,” I said slowly. I felt sick. “I don’t think you did suspect. What I did overlook was the certainty that you would take Hargreaves and Williams apart and threaten to kill their wives if they didn’t tell you everything that happened. Separate huts and the usual menaces if their stories didn’t tally exactly. Maybe I do underestimate you. So now you take me away somewhere quietly and shoot me. I don’t really think I’ll mind.”

“Nobody’s going to shoot you, Bentall. Nobody’s going to shoot anybody. We’re leaving tomorrow and I can promise that when we do we will leave you all alive.”

“Of course,” I sneered. “How many years practice does it take, LeClerc, to get that ring of conviction into your voice when you tell your damned lies?”

“You’ll see tomorrow.”

“Always tomorrow. And how do you propose to keep forty of us under control until then?” I hoped his mind worked as mine did, or I’d probably wasted my time in sending Griffiths to Fleck.

“You gave us the idea yourself, Bentall. The blockhouse. You said it would make a fine dungeon. Escape proof. Besides, I want all my men for the job of crating the Shrike tonight and I don’t need guards for anyone inside the blockhouse.” He looked at Hewell and smiled. “Incidentally, Ben-tall, I believe there is no love lost between yourself and Captain Griffiths. He was saying some pretty hard things about you for fusing up that first rocket.”

I said nothing. I waited for it.

“You’ll be pleased to hear he’s met with a little trouble. Nothing serious. I gather he took it into his head to berate Captain Fleck-as one Englishman to another-for his treasonable activities. Fleck, one gathers, took exception to Griffiths taking exception. In age, height and weight the two master mariners were pretty evenly matched and if Captain Griffiths was a bit fitter Fleck knew more dirty tricks. It was a fight to see. Had to stop it eventually. Distracting my men.”

“I hope they beat each other to death,” I growled. LeClerc smiled, and walked away with Hewell. The world was going well for them.

It wasn’t for me. The booby-trap sprung, Griffiths and Fleck at blows, the last hope gone, Marie finished with me, LeClerc winning all along the line and a bullet in the head for Bentall any hour now. I felt sick and weak and exhausted and beaten. Maybe it was time to give up. I rolled over on my face again, saw Griffiths approaching. He sat where he had been sitting before. His shirt was dirty and torn, his forehead grazed and a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

“Congratulations,” I said bitterly.

“They are in order,” he said calmly. “Fleck believes me. It wasn’t difficult to convince him. He was on the other side of the island this morning and found a dead man-or what was left of him-a Fijian, I think, floating out near the reef. He thought it was sharks. He doesn’t now. His mate has gone to investigate.”

“But-but the fight?”

“LeClerc came out of the hangar. He was watching us closely, much too closely. It was the only way to kill suspicion.” I looked up and he was smiling. “We managed to exchange quite a bit of information as we were rolling around.”

“Captain Griffiths,” I said, “you deserve a battleship for this.”

The sun sunk down towards the sea. Two Chinese brought us some food, mostly tinned, and beer. I saw another couple take some across to the blockhouse where the seven women were still held, probably as additional security against our making trouble. Lieutenant Brookman fixed my arm again and he didn’t seem too happy with its condition. All afternoon the Chinese and about half the sailors, closely supervised by Hewell, were dismantling two gantries and setting them up one on either side of the railway track in preparation for lifting the Shrike into its metal crate, which was already in position on a pair of bogies. And all the time I wondered about Marie in her loneliness, whether she was asleep or awake, how she felt, whether she thought about me, whether her despair was half as deep as mine.

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