Mickey looked scared. “Okay, okay, whatever you say.” He retreated toward the flight deck, his face showing that he thought Eddie had gone mad.
Eddie turned back to face the launch. It was quite close now. He looked at the three men. One was very young, no more than eighteen. Another was older but short and thin, with a cigarette dangling from a corner of his mouth. The third, wearing a black suit with a chalk stripe, looked like he was in charge.
They were going to need two ropes, Eddie decided, to hold the launch steady enough. He put his hands to his mouth to make a megaphone and shouted: “Throw another rope!”
The man in the striped suit picked up a rope in the bow, next to the one they were already using. That was no good: they needed one at each end of the launch, to make a triangle. “No, not that one,” Eddie called. “Throw me a stem rope.”
The man got the message.
This time Eddie caught the rope the first time. He took it inside the plane and tied it to a strut.
With a man hauling on each rope, the launch came rapidly closer. Suddenly its engines were cut and a man in overalls came out of the wheelhouse and took over the rope work. This guy was obviously a seaman.
Eddie heard another voice from behind him, coming from within the bow compartment. This time it was Captain Baker. He said: “Deakin, you’re disobeying a direct order!”
Eddie ignored him and prayed that he would keep out of the way for a few moments more. The launch was as close as it could come. The skipper wound the ropes around the deck stanchions, leaving just enough slack to allow the boat to rise and fall with the waves. To board the Clipper, the men would have to wait until the swell brought the deck level with the platform, then jump from one to the other. To steady themselves, they could hold on to the rope that ran from the stern of the launch to the inside of the bow compartment.
Baker barked: “Deakin! Get back in here!”
The seaman opened a gate in the rail and the gangster in the striped suit stood ready to jump across. Eddie felt Captain Baker’s hand clutch at his jacket from behind. The gangster saw what was happening and reached inside his coat.
Eddie’s worst nightmare was that one of his crewmates would decide to be a hero and get himself killed. He wished he could tell them about the navy cutter that Steve Appleby had sent—but he was afraid that if he did, one of them might accidentally forewarn the gangsters. So he just had to try to keep the situation under control.
He turned to Baker and yelled: “Captain! Get out of the way! These bastards have guns!”
Baker looked shocked. He stared at the gangster, then ducked out of sight. Eddie turned around to see the man in the striped suit stuffing a pistol back into his coat pocket. Jesus, I hope I can stop these guys from shooting people, he thought fearfully. If someone dies it will be my fault.
The boat was on the crest of a wave, its deck a little above the level of the platform. The gangster grabbed the rope, hesitated, then jumped onto the platform. Eddie caught him, steadying him.
“You Eddie?” the man said.
Eddie recognized the voice: he had heard it over the phone. He recalled the man’s name: Vincini. Eddie had insulted him: now he regretted it, for he needed his cooperation. “I want to work with you, Vincini,” he said. “If you want things to go smoothly, with no snags, let me help you.”
Vincini gave him a hard look. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “But make one false move and you’re dead.” His tone was brisk and business-like. He showed no sign of resentment: no doubt he had too much on his mind to think about past slights.
“Step inside and wait right there while I bring the others over.”
“Okay.” Vincini turned to the launch. “Joe—you next. Then Kid. The girl comes last.” He stepped down into the bow compartment.
Looking inside, Eddie saw Captain Baker climbing the ladder that led to the flight deck. Vincini pulled out his gun and said: “Stay there, you.”
Eddie said: “Do what he says, Captain. For God’s sake, these guys are serious.”
Baker stepped off the ladder and raised his hands in the air.
Eddie turned back. The runty man called Joe was standing at the rail of the launch looking scared to death. “I can’t swim!” he said in a rasping voice.
“You won’t have to,” Eddie said. He reached out a hand.
Joe jumped, caught his hand, and half stepped, half fell into the bow compartment.
The young one was last. Having seen the other two make the transfer safely, he was overconfident. “I can’t swim, either,” he said with a grin. He jumped too soon, landed on the very edge of the platform, lost his balance and tipped backward. Eddie leaned out, holding the rope with his left hand, and grabbed the boy by the waistband of his pants. He pulled him onto the platform.
“Gee, thanks!” the boy said, as if Eddie had merely given him a hand, instead of saving his life.
Now Carol-Ann was standing on the deck of the launch, looking across at the platform with fear on her face. She was not normally timid, but Eddie could tell that Kid’s near-disaster had unnerved her. He smiled at her and said: “Just do what they did, honey. You can make it.”
She nodded and took hold of the rope.
Eddie waited with his heart in his mouth. The swell brought the launch up level with the platform. Carol-Ann hesitated, missed her chance and looked more fearful. “Take your time,” Eddie called, making his voice calm to hide his own fear. “Whenever you’re ready.”
The launch went down and rose again. Carol-Ann’s face wore an expression of forced resolution, her lips pressed together, her forehead creased in a frown. The launch drifted a foot or two away from the platform, making the gap rather too wide. Eddie called: “Maybe not this time—” But he was too late. She was so determined to be brave that she had already jumped.
She missed the platform completely.
She let out a scream of terror and swung from the rope, her feet scrabbling in midair. Eddie could do nothing as the launch slipped down the slope of the wave and Carol-Ann fell away from the platform. “Hold tight!” he yelled frantically. “You’ll come up!” He got ready to jump into the sea to save her if she should let go.
But she clung fiercely to the rope as the swell took her down, then brought her up again. When she drew up level she stretched out one leg toward the platform, but it did not reach. Eddie went down on one knee and made a grab for her. He almost overbalanced and fell in the water, but he could not quite touch her leg. The swell took her down again, and she gave a cry of despair.
“Swing!” Eddie yelled. “Swing to and fro as you come up!”
She heard. He could see her gritting her teeth against the pain in her arms, but she managed to swing backward and forward as the swell lifted the launch. Eddie knelt down, reaching out. She came level and swung with all her might. Eddie grabbed and caught her ankle. She had no stockings on. He pulled her closer and got hold of the other ankle, but her feet still did not reach the platform. The launch crested the wave and began to fall. Carol-Ann screamed as she felt herself going down. Eddie still held on to her ankles. Then she let go of the rope.
He held on like grim death. As she fell, he was pulled forward by her weight and almost toppled into the sea; but he was able to flop onto his belly and stay on the platform. Carol-Ann swung upside down from his hands. In this position he could not lift her, but the sea did the job. The next wave submerged her head but lifted her toward him. He let go of one ankle, freeing his right hand, and got his arm around her waist.
He had her safe. He rested for a moment, saying, “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” while she choked and spluttered. Then he hauled her up to the platform.
He held her hand while she turned and stood up, then he helped her inside the plane.
She fell into his arms, sobbing. He pressed her dripping head against his chest. He felt tears come but forced them back. The three gangsters and Captain Baker were looking at him expectantly, but he ignored them for a few moments more. He held Carol-Ann tightly as she shook violently.
At last he said: “Are you okay, honey? Did these bastards hurt you?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay, I guess,” she said through chattering teeth.
He looked up and caught the eye of Captain Baker. Baker looked from him to Carol-Ann and back again, then said: “Jesus Christ, I’m beginning to understand this....”
Vincini said: “Enough talk. We got work to do.”
Eddie released Carol-Ann. “Okay. I think we should deal with the crew first, get them calmed down and out of the way. Then I’ll take you to the man you want. Is that all right?”
“Yeah, but let’s get on with it.”
“Follow me.” Eddie crossed to the ladder and went up. He came out onto the flight deck first and began speaking right away. In the few seconds before Vincini caught up with him, he said: “Listen, guys, please don’t anybody try to be a hero.
It isn’t necessary.
I hope you understand me.” He could not risk more than that hint. A moment later Carol-Ann, Captain Baker and the three hoodlums came up through the hatch. Eddie went on. “Everybody keep calm and do what you’re told. I don’t want any shooting. I don’t want anybody to get hurt. The captain is going to tell you the same thing.” He looked at Baker.
“That’s right, men,” Baker said. “Don’t give these people any reason to use their guns.”
Eddie looked at Vincini. “Okay, let’s go. Come with us please, Captain, to calm the passengers. Then Joe and Kid should take the crew to number one compartment.”
Vincini nodded assent.
“Carol-Ann, will you go with the crew, honey?”
“Yes.”
Eddie felt good about that. She would be away from the guns, and she could also explain to his crewmates why he was helping the gangsters.
He looked at Vincini. “Do you want to put your gun away? You’ll scare the passengers—”
“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.”