Against the Tide (46 page)

The breakwater was in sight now, its extremities glowed in the remnants of the sunset. This was the most dangerous bit as any or all of the three cars could now appear from my left as they descended the steep hill from St Martin's Church.

As I slowed for the junction, I realised there were no headlights. Either we were well ahead or some way behind. I accelerated along the road, which twisted past the Martello Tower and small slipway, through the cutting next to Gibraltar and into the final stretch. Too fast for the bends and suddenly the handlebars started to shake. Miko's extra weight had made the front end too light. The tyre shimmied, wobbled and
Boadicea
snaked across the road. Fred had explained the theory but, now she was biting back, it was brawn rather than brain I needed. I leant forward, tried to shift more weight over the front forks but I was too late. The rear tyre lost grip and we were out of control. I didn't even have time to scream to Miko before we started to slide.
Boadicea
was going to kill again.

We clung on as she shot towards the verge. Her stand hit the grass first as she reared up and catapulted us into the gorse. Not a soft landing but much better than ripping our flesh along the road or colliding with a tree.

I was on a bed of thorns, contemplating the punishment for my speeding, when I felt a tug on my ankle.

‘You okay, Jerk?'

‘Just dandy.'

‘I say
spumá
not
omoara.
'

He hauled me out and we dusted ourselves down. It would take an army of tailors to repair our suits.
Boadicea
was almost buried in the roots of a gorse bush. I braved the thorns to reach in and turn off her ignition. It wasn't her fault I'd pushed too hard. We didn't have time or even the strength to pull her out. I'd need a tractor for that.

We were still a couple of hundred yards short of Verclut and the breakwater and there was still no sign of the cars. In the distance, I heard engines pulsing towards us, their exhaust notes rising and falling as their drivers worked the gears round the bends and through the cutting at Gibraltar.

I dragged Miko onto the grass and prayed they wouldn't spot us. It was the Talbot, closely followed by the Bugatti. The police Wolseley, with its tuned engine, had probably got there already.

We waited until they had passed then started to run. Dressed in our lacerated dinner jackets, we would have been quite a sight, if anyone had been watching.

Breathing heavily, we slid to a halt at the top of the slipway, which curved dramatically to the sea some forty feet below. There were three cars parked on the granite flagstones, their bonnets all angled towards a white motor cruiser swinging from a bow rope at the point where the water was rising over the slip. Further out, a larger cruiser started her engines. It was
Lorelei
– how the buggeration had she got here? She was supposed to be drifting out in the channel. From the sound of the sea sucking against the granite, I reckoned a swell was building. Her mast was beginning to gyrate.

Closer in,
Jacob's Star
was moored amongst the shadows, along with a few smaller boats. There were some dinghies parked near the top of the slip and several other small boats scattered at intervals down the nearside. I nudged Miko and indicated he should follow me, though I had no idea what we were going to do once we got close enough. We darted from boat to boat, crouching down behind the last one. Fifty yards of open space separated us from the closest car. The passengers were near to the cruiser now and, from the noise, seemed to be arguing. Miko leant into a dinghy and scooped up an oar and a length of rope. He handed me the rope then we dashed, keeping low, to the Bugatti. It was empty – no sign of the carving knife. The Talbot was also empty so we scooted across to the Wolseley.

Alf still held his gun and was keeping them at bay as Carl hustled Fairfield and Sleeman towards the cruiser. Kohler held Rachel. Caroline was standing next to her father. Schmitz and Kempler were huddled against the high granite wall.

Alf addressed them. ‘Enough discussion, gentlemen, my orders are to take only Sleeman. I'm including Fairfield because he needs some fresh air and a good talking to. These have the free tickets. Others might be for sale. If you Germans wish, you may stay to discuss your affairs with the police. If not, you may pay me to take you to pastures new.'

‘Wait. Whatever your employers are paying you, I will give you double.' Hayden-Brown even made that sound patronising.

‘I have your pretty boat so I am already well-paid.'

‘What about our diamonds?'

‘They're not yours.'

‘But we bought them fair and square.'

‘And who did you pay for them?'

Hayden-Brown pointed at Sleeman. ‘Him. We paid in full.'

‘And how much did this cost you?' Alf asked.

‘That's commercially sensitive. I can't reveal details like that.'

‘Oh, but our friend Sleeman will. You can be sure of that. Won't he, Carl?'

Carl swung Sleeman around then jabbed him in the back. ‘How much did you get for them, you thieving, fat bastard. Tell us?'

Sleeman's cheeks flapped as he shook his head.

Carl forced him to kneel, passed his gun to a crewman then flicked his knife open. He pulled Sleeman's head back and touched the blade to his throat.

‘I'll ask once more.'

Sleeman whimpered. ‘There was much expense and many shares.'

Carl lifted the knife and drew it across the Belgian's cheek. Sleeman screeched in horror.

‘Final time. How much?'

‘Two million dollars. Please don't cut me again.'

Alf whistled. ‘A big price for a little thief.' He pointed his gun at Kempler. ‘You, German banker, how much have you agreed to pay? No lies now.'

Kempler spoke to Hayden-Brown. ‘Wilbur, you should be ashamed. Such profit. You could teach our Jews.'

‘Oh come on, Ferdinand. It's a seller's market and the Reich can afford it.'

Alf interrupted. ‘Look, the thieves squabble. How entertaining. Now, tell me, or do I have to get Carl to ask you the question?'

‘This will not be forgotten. You are unwise to make an enemy of the Reich.'

Carl left Sleeman and approached Kempler.

‘How uncivilised and brutish but, if you must know, we had agreed to purchase at thirty-seven point five Reichsmarks per carat.'

Alf looked surprised. ‘And the total?'

‘112.5 million.'

‘I see. You are far more desperate than my employers realise. I think they might wish to have a discussion with you.' Alf smiled.

‘Just a minute, you can't cut me out of the deal, Ferdinand,' Hayden-Brown called out.

Alf snapped. ‘Oh, stop whining. Go home and count your losses. Play in a pond with the little fish. Stay away from ones that bite.'

‘Where's the freighter?' Hayden-Brown asked.

‘On its way to Rotterdam, under new ownership, the diamonds are with me,' he smirked, ‘in your beautiful boat. But enough. You begin to irritate. Any more, and I will take you as well for no charge.'

Kohler dragged Rachel towards his uncle and spoke in German. Schmitz joined in.

After a few moments, Kempler addressed Alf. ‘We think a discussion will be beneficial. Perhaps we can meet with your employers in the next few days to facilitate this.'

‘You Germans are even bigger thieves than this Sleeman creature. I will follow my orders and take him so that he can explain himself. If you want to discuss this, make a better offer perhaps, you will join us now. No charge.' Alf laughed again.

The Germans shuffled reluctantly towards the boat, dragging Rachel with them.

Caroline shouted, ‘Let Rachel go!' She lurched forward but her father pulled her back.

‘We've done nothing wrong. I'll sort this out with the authorities. You go back to the car and wait for me.'

‘Sod off, you bastard. This is all your fault. Rudi, let her go.'

‘Sorry, Caroline, she's coming with me. Who knows what we will find on the other side? She could still be useful.'

Hayden-Brown called out, ‘Ferdinand, don't forget you owe me. This could be very embarrassing for you and your country.'

Kempler stopped and faced Hayden-Brown. ‘Wilbur, as you say, it's only business. Send me your account. It will be settled – one way or another.'

One crewman was on the boat's foredeck, shoving Fairfield and Sleeman towards the cabin. There was another at the wheel, trying to hold the cruiser on her engines. I read the name
Esperance
on her transom with
St Malo
painted underneath. A third crewman was knee-deep in water on the edge of the slip, holding onto a stern rope. A fourth now reached up and grabbed Fairfield and dragged him below.
Lorelei
was holding station a hundred yards out, her exhausts burbling softly.

Carl clambered off the stern again to assist Kempler over the side. He had to wait for the boat to dip in the swell. The others were watching. Kohler was turned towards the boat now with his back to us while Caroline hung helpless against her father's side.

Kohler started to push Rachel towards the boat. She kicked back at him and screamed. Miko leapt from behind our hiding place and charged Kohler with the oar.

He caught him a glancing blow on the shoulder and the knife clattered away. Kohler grabbed the end of the oar and pulled Miko towards him.

Rachel, off balance, teetered on the edge then twisted into a dive and disappeared into the swell.

She surfaced and started to swim towards the rocks fifty yards from the slipway.

Miko collided with the German, who stepped backwards and fell into the water.

Miko hung onto the oar and charged at Alf, who swung the gun towards him.

Caroline screamed, kicked her father then wrenched herself away from him and rushed towards the sea.

This distracted the South African sufficiently for Miko's oar to connect with his arm and the gun skittered away on the flagstones.

Alf spun around and raced for the boat, knocking Schmitz out of his way. He clambered up with help from Carl then shouted at the helmsman to get them away. Schmitz leapt for the side of the boat but missed and slipped into the water. A crewmen grabbed him and dragged him aboard. The cruiser reversed away.

I looked up the slipway. There was still no sign of any pursuit. I was on my own.

Rachel screamed and I spotted Kohler closing in on her. He dived under and came up behind her, his arm around her throat.

He shouted to Alf to wait for him and started to drag her towards the cruiser, which was now turning towards the open sea.

I started to run to the water then stopped.
Assess the situation. Kohler's stronger and faster but he's fully clothed.
I stripped off, struggling with studs and laces as anger burned through me.

I teetered on the edge.
Always take an aid with you if you can.
I grabbed the rope and coiled it over my left shoulder.

Ready now, I launched myself. The cool water cleared my head and I used the momentum from my dive to glide under the inky surface towards them.

Rachel was struggling, her feet thrashing the water, as he held her under. I could just make out her face as I rose past her to the surface. Kohler had his hands on her shoulders and was pushing her down as I reached towards him.

I swung my fist and made solid contact with his nose. He spun and pulled Rachel up between us.

‘Keep away, Renouf, or I'll drown her.'

I circled him but he twisted her round to force me to keep my distance. She had stopped struggling and was gasping for breath. This was not a life-saving scenario that I had practised.

I could dive under and pull him down but, while we were wrestling, she could easily slip under and drown. The boat was about twenty yards away now.

Caroline was screeching from the slip and her father was already hurrying towards his car.

‘Let her go, Kohler. Push her to me. Get to the boat while you can.'

He looked over his shoulder, measuring the distance. ‘No, she's coming with me.'

‘Make up your mind, German. We wait no more.' Alf was standing in the stern. ‘Your uncle offer me a good deal if I pull you aboard. You come now.'

Kohler continued to pull Rachel with him. I followed, determined to grab her before she could be hauled aboard. If I got her legs, he would have to let go. Perhaps I could get some of the rope around his neck and pull him off.

Alf screamed as the oar slammed into his back. Miko had swum around the boat and got on their blind side. Surely these crewmen would have weapons. He was taking another crazy risk.

‘Rope, Jerk, throw rope.'

I spotted him near the boat's stern holding onto the oar and waving at me. I shrugged the coil off my shoulder and hurled it to him.

He grabbed it and submerged, pushing the oar down with him.

Rudi was almost there now, though Alf had retreated to the cabin. The engines were throbbing quietly in neutral, their propellers still disengaged.

Miko bobbed up again without the rope or the oar. ‘You go now, Alf.
Spumá
.' He cackled at his own joke.

Alf screeched at the wheelhouse, ‘Get us out of here. Leave the German.'

The gearbox clunked out of neutral and the engines' beat increased but the boat didn't move. Miko ducked under and emerged close to me.

‘What happened?'

‘I wrap rope round propellers, jam oar into rudder. They go nowhere, only where tide take them.' He indicated the rocks behind us.

I paddled towards the German. ‘Let her go now, Kohler. It's over for you.'

‘
Gehen Bumsen sich
. It's over for her as well, the Jew bitch.' He grabbed her head, shoved her under and pushed her down.

I swam at and over him, punching at his face. He parried the blows using her body as a lever.

Just then, two crewmen jumped over the side and dived under the boat, probably to try to free the propeller. Miko reacted and swam after them.