Dark Side of the Street

now everyone's happy. By the way, I shouldn't waste your time trying to get hold of World Wide Exports today-I don't think they'll be open for business.'

Stavru turned to Vaughan. 'You think he is telling the truth?'

'Very probably.'

'Which means his friends may come down on us at any time.'

'That's right,' Chavasse said smoothly. 'Courtesy of the Royal Navy.'

Stavru shrugged. 'The situation is certainly inconvenient, but not impossible. The Pride of Man is a very fast boat. We can be in French territorial waters within ten minutes of leaving here.'

'You can always try,' Chavasse said, inventing freely. 'But I think you'll find that the French coastguard and police are prepared in advance for just such a move.'

'It would seem you have thought of everything.' Stavru walked to the french windows and stood there looking out at the rain. Suddenly he swung around and there was something close to excitement on his face. 'But perhaps not?' he said softly and turned to Vaughan. 'Get Youngblood up here, Simon, and quickly. There's no time to lose.'

'There's no way out, you know,' Chavasse said.

'You have a saying, do you not, Mr. Chavasse? Desperate situations breed desperate remedies.'

He poured himself another drink and a moment later, Youngblood was pushed into the room. He stood there, hands clenching and unclenching nervously, a wary expression on his face and Stavru moved to meet him.

'Mr. Youngblood, I have just discovered some rather unpleasant news. Mr. Chavasse's wolves could apparently descend on us at any moment.'

'That's your hard luck.'

'And yours-or do you look forward to your return to your cell at Fridaythorpe for the next fifteen years?'

Youngblood's face was his answer and Stavru laughed gently. 'Then we can do business. I understand that at one time you were a Petty Officer on torpedo boats in your Royal Navy and that after the war you were engaged in the running of contraband across the channel.'

'So what?'

'You brought the Pride of Man over from England by night in not very pleasant weather which would seem to indicate your competence. Could you sail her to Portugal?' He turned to Chavasse. 'I should perhaps explain that the boat is registered in Liberia. It would therefore be completely illegal for even the Royal Navy to attempt to board her at sea.'

'Her range is only six hundred,' Youngblood said. 'You'd need enough extra juice for another three or four hundred miles, just to take care of contingencies.'

'There is plenty of petrol on the jetty in twenty gallon drums.'

'All right-what's in it for me?'

'Your continued freedom and, of course, your diamonds or their equivalent in Swiss francs. As a matter of interest, I would be setting up a new organisation in Tangiers. I think we might do very well together.'

'Don't listen to him, Harry,' Chavasse said. 'You'd never get across the Bay of Biscay in a boat like that. It's the wrong time of year.'

'Who says I wouldn't?' Youngblood smiled recklessly. 'I'd take that tub to hell rather than go back to Fridaythorpe.' He turned to Stavru. 'How do I know I can trust you?'

Stavru's hand came out of his pocket clutching a Luger. He held it out, a slight smile on his face. 'Would this constitute a satisfactory token?'

Youngblood satisfied himself that the weapon was loaded and grinned as he pushed it into his hip pocket. 'Okay, let's get started. The sooner we get those drums on board, the sooner we get out of here.'

Stavru nodded and turned to Vaughan. 'Take Mr. Chavasse back to the young lady and come back as quickly as you can. I want you to help me clear up the essentials in the house. Gledik can go down to the jetty with Mr. Youngblood to load the fuel.'

'Is it in order to ask what you're going to do with us?' Chavasse said.

Vaughan smiled. 'I'm sure I'll think of something, old man.'

As he was pushed towards the door, Chavasse turned in appeal to Youngblood. 'They're going to kill us, Harry, you know that.'

'That's your hard luck.'

'What about Molly?'

'She shouldn't have joined. Nobody asked her to.'

'And that's your last word?'

Youngblood's face was suddenly suffused with passion. 'Well what do you expect me to say, for Christ's sake? You've got to look out for number one in this life.'

He turned angrily and went out through the french windows, Gledik at his heels and Stavru came forward. 'Sad, isn't it, but that's life, my friend.'

'Even sadder is the fact that a man only ever reaps what he sows,' Chavasse told him and he turned and went out, Vaughan a couple of paces ahead of him.

As the cellar door closed behind him, Molly got up from the bench and came forward anxiously. 'Where's Harry? What have they done to him?'

'He's fine,' Chavasse said soothingly. 'He's gone down to the jetty.'

She stared at him blankly. 'I don't understand.'

He pushed her gently down on the bench. 'They're leaving, Molly, and Harry's going with them. They need him to run the boat.'

'But what about me?' she said. 'He wouldn't leave me? He'll take me with him?'

'I wouldn't count on that.'

She got to her feet, her eyes wild. 'They're taking him by force, aren't they?' She turned without waiting for an answer. 'What can we do, Paul? There must be something.'

There was obviously nothing to be gained from any further discussion and Chavasse didn't try. It was almost half past nine now and he lit a cigarette and sat down on the bench.

Vaughan would be coming very soon and there was nothing he could do about that either. Whatever happened, it would be handled with ice-cold efficiency and with no chances offered for sudden grabs or in-fighting. The man was too much of a professional to make silly mistakes. No point in telling the girl-it would only make it harder for her.

There was a footstep in the passage outside, the rattle of the bolt and the door opened. Vaughan stayed well back, the gun in his right hand as steady as a rock.

'Outside, we're taking a little walk.'

'I want to speak to Stavru,' Chavasse said. 'Tell him I'm ready to make a deal.'

'He doesn't need one, old man, and you're too late anyway. He's gone down to the boat. In fact we're just about ready for off.'

The girl seemed completely bewildered by all this. 'What's happening, Paul? Where are we going?'

'Just do as you're told, sweetie,' Vaughan said. 'Much better in the long run.'

They went up the steps from the basement, Vaughan staying well back and somehow there was a terrible inevitability about everything. When they reached the study, Chavasse paused and said desperately, 'How do you know they won't clear off without you?'

'With what I've got stored away up here?' Vaughan tapped his forehead and smiled cheerfully. 'Don't be silly and keep moving, there's a good chap. We haven't got much time.'

It was raining harder than ever as they went out through the french windows and crossed the lawn. It was very quiet in the wood, the only sound the rain hissing down through the branches, and the girl stumbled along in front, Chavasse behind her, Vaughan bringing up the rear.

There would be no sudden warning, no order to halt and turn round, Chavasse knew that. Just a bullet in the back of the head. There was really nothing to lose, no matter how suicidal the situation was and Stavru's words came back into his mind. Desperate situations breed desperate remedies.

Molly pushed a branch out of the way as she ploughed through the wet grass. Chavasse caught it, held it for only a moment and ducked, allowing it to sweep back into Vaughan's face. He staggered back with a cry of alarm