'We'll impress him,' Grijpstra said.
De Gier gave Runau his pistol and together they fired a ragged salvo at the moon. The crack of the carbine swallowed the small explosions of the pistol cartridges.
They were close now, sixty meters at the most, going into the same direction.
'Careful,' de Gier said and ducked.
Van Meteren fired three times, the bullets just missed.
'He is serious now,' Runau said.
'Not really serious,' Grijpstra answered. 'He missed us didn't he?'
'Hello,' van Meteren called.
'Yes?' Grijpstra's voice was very pleasant.
'You can stand up,' van Meteren shouted. 'I want to talk to you. I won't fire.'
'That's all right, friend,' Grijpstra shouted, he got up, de Gier and Runau following his example.
'I can hit you easily from here,' van Meteren shouted. 'I have enough ammunition on board to keep it up all day, far more than you have. But I don't want to kill you. Go away and let me go.'
'We can't,' Grijpstra said, his deep voice being carried by the still air above the water.
'You are suspected of having committed a murder, van Meteren. It's the most serious crime our law knows. You have to surrender or we'll be following you until the Water Police catch up with you. We would prefer you to surrender now. If you hit or wound us you'll be in worse trouble than you are now.'
Van Meteren looked at him. He was holding the rifle. De Gier was holding the carbine.
'You are crazy,' van Meteren shouted. 'I am a better shot than any of you. This rifle is powerful, I can shoot holes in your boat.'
'Surrender,' de Gier shouted. 'Put your rifle down.'
'No. I want you to go into the cabin and sit on the table. I am going to approach from behind and sink your boat. Then I'll drop my rubber dinghy and sail away. I'll phone the Water Police and tell them where you are.'
'You'll be caught anyway,' de Gier shouted.
'Not necessarily,' van Meteren said. 'Please go into your cabin. Sit on the table. I'll aim as low as I can.'
Grijpstra and Runau went into the cabin. De Gier pretended to follow but he turned at the last moment. Van Meteren had been expecting the shot. The bullet missed him by at least a foot.
De Gier wanted to fire again but Grijpstra pulled him into the cabin.
'Idiot,' Grijpstra said.
'De Gier breathed deeply and got onto the table. They heard the hotter turn around and the Lee Enfield began to fire, slowly and methodically. Five holes appeared near the yacht's rudder, a few inches above the waterline.
Van Meteren wasn't satisfied.
The next five holes were lower.
'Good work,' Runau said. 'We'll sink for sure. I hope the dinghy isn't too small.'
The hotter's diesel accelerated. De Gier jumped off the table, aimed and emptied his carbine's clip. He had been so quick that Grijpstra's hand hit his shoulder when the last bullet had left the carbine's barrel.
'Fool,' Grijpstra roared.
'I hit him,' de Gier said. 'The first shot got him. In the shoulder. I saw him go down.'
'Not very nice,' Runau said. 'He was aiming at the boat. You aimed at his body.'
De Gier didn't answer. His face was very pale, he was staring at the hotter.
'Are you hurt, van Meteren?' Grijpstra shouted. There was no answer.
'Are you hurt?'
'I am,' van Meteren's voice came back.
'We are coming,' de Gier shouted. 'Don't move.'
'I'll swim to the hotter,' Runau said and stripped. Within five minutes they were all in the hotter. Van Meteren was stretched out on the floor of his cabin. His sheepskin-lined windbreaker was soaked with blood.
\\ 15 /////
Right,' Grijpstra said. 'I'll keep him covered while you get the bandages.'
'Can I help?' Runau asked.
Grijpstra looked at the yacht, now tied up to the hotter. The surface of the lake was still calm but soon the early morning breeze would start up and small waves would be lapping against the yacht's side, flooding it slowly.
'You see if you can save your boat,' Grijpstra said. 'Maybe you can block the holes.'
'Hey,' van Meteren said.
The three men looked at the Papuan's face.
'Look in the bottom drawer,' van Meteren said, pointing at the cabin's port wall. 'You'll find some rubber sheeting in there I use for repairing the dinghy with, and some cleaning rags. You could twist them into the yacht's holes. She'll still leak, but not too badly.'
'Go ahead,' Grijpstra said to Runau.
While Runau rummaged through the chest of drawers de Gier fetched the Red Cross tin from the yacht's cabin, staying as far away as he could from the rear of the boat.
Runau joined him, with an armful of cleaning rags.
'I'll wait for you here,' Runau said. 'Bandage him up and men you can come and stand on the front deck while I try to do something about the holes. It would be better if Grijpstra came as well. He is nice and heavy and can stand on the front deck with you, but somebody will have to watch van Meteren.'
'I was lucky,' de Gier said. His mouth twitched a little.
'You mean that you didn't shoot him through the head?'
'Yes,' de Gier said. 'I was aiming for his shoulder but I didn't have much time.'
'Maybe you weren't lucky,' Runau said. 'Maybe you are a good shot. Have you had a lot of practice with the carbine?'
'Yes,' de Gier said. 'I try to go to the rifle range at least twice a month.'
'Keep it up,' Runau said. 'I don't think I could have hit him in the shoulder, not even when I was in training.'
'Very good,' van Meteren said.
'What do you mean?' Grijpstra asked.
'You are pointing your pistol at me,' van Meteren said, 'and I am on the floor, bleeding. A friend of mine got killed in New Guinea because he wasn't paying sufficient attention to a wounded prisoner. The man looked harmless enough, leaning against a tree and bleeding like a slaughtered pig, but he had a revolver and he shot my friend.'
'Have you got a revolver?' Grijpstra asked.
Van Meteren tried to change his position and grimaced with pain. 'Yes,' he said, 'under my armpit, very close to the wound.'
De Gier had come in. He put his left hand under van Meteren's head, lifting it a little off the floor.
Grijpstra threw him a small cushion.
'That's better,' said van Meteren. 'Take my revolver and then we can get the jacket off. The wound isn't dangerous, I think. The lung hasn't been touched, it may be just a flesh wound but it's certainly bleeding. Perhaps you can stop the blood.'
De Gier worked quietly, bandaging the wound and fastening the gauze with metal clips. He made a sling for van Meteren's arm.
Van Meteren's teeth chattered.
'Are you in bad pain?' de Gier asked.
'It's beginning to hurt now,' van Meteren said.
