Night Over Water - Ken Follett [200]
“Fuck you,” said Vincini. “Let’s go.”
Eddie shrugged. It had been worth a try.
He led the way down the stairs to the passenger deck. There was a hubbub of loud talk, some semihysterical laughter and the sound of one woman sobbing. The passengers were all in their seats and the two stewards were making heroic efforts to look calm and normal.
Eddie went along the plane. The dining room was a mess, with smashed crockery and broken glass all over the floor; although fortunately there was not much spilled food because the meal had been almost over and everyone had been having coffee. People went quiet when they saw Vincini’s gun. Behind Vincini, Captain Baker was saying: “I apologize for this, ladies and gentlemen, but please remain seated and try to keep calm and it will all be over shortly.” He was so smoothly reassuring that Eddie almost felt better himself.
He passed through number 3 compartment and entered number 4. Ollis Field and Frankie Gordino were sitting side by side. This is it, Eddie thought; this is where I set free a murderer. He pushed the thought aside, pointed to Gordino and said to Vincini: “There’s your man.”
Ollis Field stood up. “This is F.B.I, agent Tommy McArdle,” he said. “Frankie Gordino crossed the Atlantic on a ship that reached New York yesterday, and he is now in jail in Providence, Rhode Island.”
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie exploded. He was thunderstruck. “A decoy! I went through all that for a goddamned decoy!” He was not going to free a murderer after all; but he could not feel glad because he was too scared of what the gangsters might do now. He looked fearfully at Vincini.
Vincini said: “Hell, we ain’t after Frankie. Where’s the Kraut?”
Eddie stared at him, flabbergasted. They were not after Gordino? What did it mean? Who was the Kraut?
Tom Luther’s voice came from number 3 compartment. “He’s in here, Vincini. I’ve got him.” Luther stood in the doorway holding a gun at the head of Carl Hartmann.
Eddie was mystified. Why the hell would the Patriarca gang want to kidnap Carl Hartmann? “What do you guys want with a scientist?” he said.
Luther said: “He’s not just a scientist. He’s a nuclear physicist.”
“Are you guys Nazis?”
Vincini said: “Oh, no. We’re just doing a job for them. Matter of fact, we’re Democrats.” He laughed coarsely.
Luther said coldly: “I am no Democrat. I am proud to be a member of the Deutsch-Amerikaner Bund.” Eddie had heard of the Bund: it was supposed to be a harmless German-American friendship league, but it was funded by the Nazis. Luther went on. “These men are just hired hands. I received a personal message from the Führer himself, requesting my help in apprehending a runaway scientist and returning him to Germany.” Luther was proud of this honor, Eddie realized: it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. “I paid these people to help me. Now I am going to take Herr Doktor Professor Hartmann back to Germany, where his presence is required by the Third Reich.”
Eddie caught Hartmann’s eye. The man looked sick with dread. Eddie was stricken with guilt. Hartmann was going to be taken back to Nazi Germany, and it was Eddie’s fault. Eddie said to him: “They had my wife ... what could I do?”
Hartmann’s face changed immediately. “I understand,” he said. “We are used to this sort of thing in Germany. They make you betray one loyalty for the sake of another. You had no choice. Don’t blame yourself.”
Eddie was astonished that the man could find it in his heart to console him at a moment like this.
He caught the eye of Ollis Field. “But why did you bring a decoy onto the Clipper?” he said. “Did you want the Patriarca gang to hijack the plane?”
“Not at all,” Field said. “We got information that the gang want to kill Gordino to stop him squealing. They were going to hit him as soon as he reached America. So we let it out that he was flying on the Clipper, but sent him on ahead by ship. Round about now, the news will be on the radio that Gordino is in jail and the gang will know they’ve been fooled.”
“Why aren’t you