Night Over Water - Ken Follett [206]
He spun around, his heart pounding.
It was Percy Oxenford.
The boy stood in the rear doorway, looking as shocked as Harry felt.
After a moment Percy said: “Where have you been hiding?”
“Never mind that,” Harry said. “What’s going on down there?”
“Mr. Luther is a Nazi who wants to send Professor Hartmann back to Germany. He’s hired some gangsters to help him and he gave them a hundred thousand dollars in a briefcase!”
“Blimey,” said Harry, forgetting to do his American accent.
“And they killed Mr. Membury—he was a bodyguard from Scotland Yard.”
So that was what he was. “Is your sister all right?”
“So far. But they want to take Mrs. Lovesey with them because she’s so pretty—I hope they don’t notice Margaret....”
“God, what a mess,” said Harry.
“I managed to sneak away and come up through the trapdoor next to the ladies’ toilet.”
“What for?”
“I want Agent Field’s gun. I saw Captain Baker confiscate it.” Percy pulled open the drawer under the chart table. Inside was a compact revolver with a short barrel, just the sort of gun an F.B.I. man might carry under his jacket. “I thought so—it’s a Colt Thirty-eight Detective Special,” Percy said. He picked it up, broke it open expertly and spun the cylinder.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t think that’s such a great idea. You’ll get yourself killed.” He grabbed the boy’s wrist, took the gun from him, put it back and closed the drawer.
There was a loud noise from outside. Harry and Percy both looked out of the windows and saw a seaplane circling the Clipper. Who the hell was this? After a moment it started to descend. It splashed down, riding a wave, and taxied toward the Clipper.
“Now what?” said Harry. He turned around. Percy had disappeared. The drawer was open.
And the gun was gone.
“Damn,” Harry said.
He went through the rear door. He dashed past the holds, under the navigator’s dome and across a low compartment, then looked through a second door.
Percy was scampering along a crawlway through a space that got lower and narrower as it approached the tail. The plane’s structure was bare here, with struts and rivets visible and cables trailing along the floor. The space was obviously a redundant void above the rear half of the passenger deck. There was light at the far end, and Harry saw Percy drop down through a square hole. He remembered seeing a ladder on the wall next to the ladies’ room, with a trapdoor above it.
He could not stop Percy now: it was too late.
He recalled Margaret saying they could all shoot—it was a family obsession; but the boy knew nothing about gangsters. If he got in their way they would gun him down like a dog. Harry liked the boy, but his own feelings did not concern him so much as Margaret’s. Harry did not want her to see her brother killed. But what the hell could he do?
He returned to the flight deck and looked out. The seaplane was tying up to the launch. Either the people from the seaplane would come aboard the Clipper, or vice versa: in any event someone would soon be passing through the flight cabin. Harry had to get out of the way for a few moments. He went out through the rear door, leaving it open a crack so he could hear what went on.
Soon someone came up the stairs from the passenger deck and went through to the bow compartment. A few minutes later a number of people, two or three, came back. Harry listened to their footsteps going down the stairs, then came out.
Had they brought help, or reinforcements for the gangsters? Harry was in the dark again.
He went to the top of the stairs. There he hesitated. He decided to risk going partway down to listen.
He went to the bend in the staircase and peeked around the corner. He could see the little kitchen: it was empty. What would he do now if the seaman from the launch decided to come aboard the Clipper? I’ll hear him coming, Harry thought, and slip into the men’s room. He went on down, one slow step at a time, pausing and listening on each step. When he reached the bottom he heard a voice. He recognized Tom Luther’s voice, a cultured American accent with