Night Over Water - Ken Follett [89]
There was a collapsible capstan on the nose of the flying boat. Eddie lifted it and locked it into position; then he took a boat hook from inside and used it to pick up the rope that was floating in the water. He attached the rope to the capstan, and the aircraft was moored. Looking up at the windshield behind him, he gave Captain Baker the thumbs-up sign.
Another launch was already coming alongside to take the passengers and crew off the plane.
Eddie closed the hatch and returned to the flight deck. Captain Baker and Ben, the radioman, were still at their stations, but the copilot, Johnny, was leaning on the chart table chatting to Jack. Eddie sat at his station and closed down the engines. When everything was ship-shape he put on his black uniform jacket and white cap. The crew went down the stairs, passed through number 2 passenger compartment, went into the lounge and stepped out onto the sea-wing. From there they boarded the launch. Eddie’s deputy, Mickey Finn, remained behind to supervise the refueling.
The sun was shining but there was a cool, salty breeze. Eddie surveyed the passengers on the launch, wondering yet again which one was Tom Luther. He recognized a woman’s face, and realized with a faint shock that he had seen her making love to a French count in a movie called A Spy in Paris: she was the film star Lulu Bell. She was chatting animatedly to a guy in a blazer. Could he be Tom Luther? With them was a beautiful woman in a dotted dress who looked miserable. There were several other familiar faces, but most of the passengers were anonymous men in suits and hats, and rich women in furs.
If Luther did not make his move soon, Eddie would seek him out, and to hell with discretion, he decided. He could not stand the waiting.
The launch puttered away from the Clipper toward the land. Eddie stared across the water, thinking of his wife. He kept picturing the scene as the men burst into the house. Carol-Ann might have been eating eggs, or making coffee, or getting dressed for work. What if she had been in the bathtub? Eddie loved to look at her in the tub. She would pin up her hair, showing her long neck, and lie in the water, languidly sponging her suntanned limbs. She liked him to sit on the edge and talk to her. Until he met her, he had thought this kind of thing only happened in erotic daydreams. But now the picture was blighted by three coarse men in fedoras who burst in and grabbed her—
The thought of her fear and shock as they seized her maddened Eddie almost beyond endurance. He felt his head spinning and he had to concentrate to stay upright in the launch. It was his utter helplessness that made the predicament so agonizing. She was in desperate trouble and there was nothing he could do, nothing. He realized he was clenching his fists spasmodically, and forced himself to stop.
The launch reached the shore and tied up to a floating pontoon connected by a gangway to the dock. The crew helped the passengers disembark, then followed them up the gangway. They were directed to the customs shed.
The formalities were brief. The passengers drifted into the little village. Across the road from the harbor was a former inn that had been almost entirely taken over by airline personnel, and the crew headed for that.
Eddie was the last to leave, and as he came out of the customs shed, he was approached by a passenger who said: “Are you the engineer?”
Eddie tensed. The passenger was a man of about thirty-five, shorter than he but stocky and muscular. He wore a pale gray suit, a tie with a stickpin and a gray felt hat. Eddie said: “Yes, I’m Eddie Deakin.”
“My name is Tom Luther.”
A red haze blurred Eddie’s vision and his rage boiled over in an instant. He grabbed Luther by the lapels, swung him around and banged him against the wall of the customs shed. “What have you done to Carol-Ann?” he spat. Luther was taken completely by surprise: he had expected a frightened, compliant victim. Eddie shook him until his teeth rattled. “You Christless son of a