focused on John.
John was expecting it. His hand was quite steady as he reached for his coffee cup. ‘Max, old chum – ’
‘You have annoyed us for a long time,’ Max said softly. ‘We expect and tolerate a certain amount of competition, but your methods go beyond the level of tolerance. This last affair – you made a fatal error, my friend. Now you have compounded it. Why did you not heed my warning?’
Over the rim of John’s cup a pair of cornflower-blue eyes gazed soulfully at me. Before I could protest, Max murmured, ‘I wondered if that might not be the case.’
‘There is no reason for us to be at odds,’ John said. ‘I don’t know what Albert told you – ’
‘Everything,’ said Max, closing his lips with a snap on the last syllable.
John went a shade paler. ‘I see.’
‘You mean you – ’ I began.
‘Please, Dr Bliss. Let us not dwell on distasteful subjects.’
‘Poor old Al,’ John muttered. ‘I knew him well . . . Yes, but look here, Max. Al couldn’t have given you a precise location, because he didn’t have it. I’ve worked out a few theories that might help. That’s a largish stretch of pasture; what do you say we collaborate?’
Max did not respond to this naive proposal. We were sitting in silence when the brothers Hasseltine returned.
I had seen ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures, but the transformation in the younger man made me stare. He was still haggard and worn, but now his step was firm and his eyes were aware. The therapy that had cured Georg (only too temporarily) had had the reverse effect on Leif. When he saw John, he made a grating noise deep in his throat and started for him, hands flexing.
Max got between them. ‘Sit down, Mr Hasseltine. I understand your feelings, but you must wait your turn. There is a chance he may yet be helpful to us.’
‘He does not deserve to live,’ Leif muttered. ‘He should die slowly, with the same agony he brought to others.’
‘No doubt he will.’ Max flicked an invisible speck of dust from his coat sleeve. ‘But not until he has served his purpose.’
His icy calm had the desired effect. Leif’s distorted face relaxed. ‘I don’t know what you want here,’ he said slowly. ‘It is not my business. An enemy of Smythe is no enemy of mine – so long as you mean no harm to this lady and her friend.’
‘Excellent,’ Max said. ‘Let me make it quite clear, so there will be no unfortunate misunderstandings. None of you is to leave the island or attempt to communicate with the mainland. I hold Mr Jonsson as security for your good behaviour, Dr Bliss; I feel sure you will not risk his safety by acting foolishly. You – ’ He looked at John. ‘You may try to escape. Please feel free to try.’
John wasn’t the only one to shiver at that speech. ‘I presume,’ he said, ‘that you will exterminate the others if one of us gets away. You count on the fact that I wouldn’t abandon Dr Bliss.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,’ I said earnestly to Max. ‘I really wouldn’t.’
‘You underestimate yourself, my dear.’ His smile was paternal. ‘Do not fear; where Sir John is concerned, I count on nothing. I have other methods of controlling him. As for you two . . .’
‘I have told you where I stand,’ Leif said. ‘This lady is hostage for me.’
Georg had seated himself at the table and was wolfing down food. He looked up. ‘I haven’t been exactly with it lately,’ he said coolly. ‘Just what are you after, Mr – Max, is it?’
Max leaned back in his chair, fingertips together, and studied the speaker. Georg returned his gaze composedly I wondered what he was hooked on. It was amazing stuff, whatever it was.
‘Our project should interest you, Dr Hasseltine,’ he said. ‘We have reason to believe that there is a fifth- century hoard of gold and silver buried in the pasture behind this house.’
‘Migration Period?’ Georg looked interested. Then he shrugged. ‘Not my field. I’m a classical archaeologist.’
‘But you have had excavation experience.’
‘Oh, certainly. I’m a first-rate excavator.’
‘I believe you.’
‘I suppose you want my help,’ Georg went on airily. ‘You’re no archaeologist. I knew that as soon as I saw the fellows with the guns.’ He laughed heartily at his own wit.
‘We could certainly use the assistance of a scholar with your reputation,’ Max said. Leif winced, but Georg appeared not to notice the double entendre. He was flying high. With another cheery laugh he leaned over and clapped Max on the shoulder.
‘Perhaps we can come to an agreement.’
‘Georg,’ Leif exclaimed. ‘Please – ’
‘Shut up!’ Georg turned on him. ‘Always you interfere with me, always you play the big brother. Leave me alone. I know what I’m doing.’
‘Quite right,’ Max said. ‘Why don’t you come with me, Dr Hasseltine, and I will show you the site.’
‘Great’. Georg tossed down a half-eaten roll and rose. Hans and Pierre followed the pair out.
‘Now we escape,’ Leif said. ‘While they leave us unguarded.’
John gave him a peculiar look. ‘He doesn’t need to guard us, you idiot. He has us by the short hairs.’
‘He means what he says – that he will kill the old man?’
‘He means it.’
‘Then we must free the old man.’
‘Splendid idea. Brilliant plan. How do you propose we go about it?’
‘First,’ said Leif, ‘we must find where they are keeping him.’
John sighed. ‘I’m going back to bed.’
He sauntered out, his leisurely stride a calculated insult. Leif glowered at his retreating back. ‘Someday I smash his face.’
‘Max is planning to take care of that little matter for you,’ I said.
‘And you object.’
‘I object to murder. It’s just a silly girlish prejudice.’
Sarcasm was wasted on Leif. He gave me a blank stare. ‘Besides,’ I went on, ‘we can’t depend on Max’s guarantees. How do we know he won’t kill all of us when he’s finished here?’
‘Why should he?’
‘Because he’s a crimnal,’ I said patiently. ‘His organization specializes in grand theft, blackmail, torture, and murder. For God’s sake, Leif, you can’t be that naive.’
‘Then what do you want to do?’ Leif asked, frowning.
‘Well, I sure as hell don’t want to sit around waiting for Max to make up his mind whether or not to kill me.’
‘You wish to escape from him?’
‘You’ve got it.’
‘All of us?’
‘All of us.’
‘Smythe too?’
‘Smythe too.’
‘You wish me to help?’
‘That would be very nice.’
Leif thought about it, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. Then he nodded. ‘Very well. First we find the old man. Then we escape – all of us, even Smythe. Then I smash Mr Smythe’s face.’
Whereupon he left the room, having arranged his programme to his satisfaction.
Aside from a few imponderables – such as locating Gus, overpowering his guards, and knocking all the other villains unconscious – there was one basic flaw in Leif’s scheme. In a few brilliantly conceived sentences, Max had made Georg a confederate. Perhaps Georg had once been a promising archaeologist – his name was vaguely familiar – but Max had two firm holds on him now: the drug he used, which Max could hand out or withhold at his own, discretion, and Georg’s hatred of John. If he had been chasing his bete noire all over Europe, he was not about
