The Blue Ice

Was he trying to get Lovaas to kill Jorgensen? What was it that drove the man so? Hatred of Jorgensen? Desire to prove his innocence? What made him follow Farnell, planning his destruction, yet seeking his help as he had sought it during the up here in the mountains? I remembered what Sunde had said: 'Dahler — I reckon he's mad.' That was the only explanation. What he had suffered during the war had effected the balance of his mind. Maybe he had sold secrets to the enemy. But he didn't believe he had. He had thought himself into the desperate certainty that his innocence could be proved and that Farnell could do it. And he, like Farnell, was prepared to do anything to gain his own ends. Jorgensen was to him a symbol of something he hated and wished to fight — Jorgensen, who had been successful, who had taken the long view. He tried to kill Jorgensen out there in the North Sea during the storm. Of that I was certain now. And he was playing Lovaas off against Jorgensen, hoping against hope that Jorgensen would get hurt in the clash. Yes, he was mad.

He suddenly turned towards me. 'So you did not catch up with your friend Farnell, eh? And where is he now, I wonder?'

'Half-way to Finse, I should think,' I answered.

He nodded. 'Perhaps.' He glanced at his watch. 'It is just after eleven. The train from Oslo comes through Finse at twelve-thirty. Allow that it is half an hour late — our State Railways are always late. He has two hours. I think perhaps he will make it.' He glanced up at Lovaas who had started to move towards his rucksack. 'And the police will be on that train, Kaptein Lovaas.'

Lovaas halted. Then he came slowly back towards Dahler. I could see by his face that he wanted to strangle the cripple. And yet something stopped him. There was something about Dahler's eyes that was cold and dead, yet strangely excited. The net is drawing round him, you see,' he said with a little laugh. 'All around you, eh?'

There was the sound of skis being placed against the side of the hut. Then the outer door closed, there was a stamp of nailed boots and then the inner door opened and Jorgensen came in. His tall figure looked a little lithe and active in a white ski suit. His leathery features seemed darker than usual against the white of the snow that clung to him. He stopped and looked round the room — first at Jill and myself, then at Lovaas and his mate, finally at Dahler. 'Where is he?' he asked. Then he turned to me. 'You followed him, Mr Gansert. Did you catch up with him?'

'You mean Farnell?' I asked.

'Of course.'

'How did you know I followed him?'

'Norway is a small country for its size, Mr Gansert. I can keep track of anybody if I wish to. I see from your expression you were not successful.' He turned to Lovaas. 'So you did not obey my instructions, eh? I told you to await orders at Bovaagen Hval. But you decided to play your own hand. Well Kaptein Lovaas, play it. But be careful.' His voice was suddenly harsh. 'I am not a person to disregard — unless you are successful. And I don't think you have been successful.' He turned to me again, ignoring Dahler entirely. 'Where is Farnell now?'

'Somewhere out there,' I said indicating the snow-lined windows.

He nodded. 'Aurland, Osterbo, Gjeiteryggen, Sankt Paal.' He spoke the names softly as though to himself. 'Then he will make for the railway. Good.' He nodded as though satisfied with his arrangements. Then he turned to Dahler. 'I should advise you to leave the country. Leave with Mr Gansert.'

'Are you having me thrown out?' I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'Good heavens, no,' he answered with pained surprise. 'But now that your mission has failed you will naturally wish to go back to England — to start on your Mediterranean trip. I do not imagine Sir Clinton Mann will finance you indefinitely in Norway. Had you been successful in your mission — ' He shrugged his shoulders. Then it would have been different. Then we might have been business associates. As it is — ' He left the rest of the sentence unfinished.

'But you will still need finance,' I said.

'Perhaps.'

'Sir Clinton Mann would be willing to discuss business on my Recommendation,' I added. 'The only thing that held us up before was the feeling that you were insufficiently informed about the nature and location of these thorite deposits.'

And then suddenly Jill spoke. 'But Mr Jorgensen, you still do not know where the deposits are.'

He frowned. 'The police will pick Farnell up on the train, Miss Somers.'

'Possibly,' she replied. 'But how will you make him talk?'

'Oh, he will talk.' He took a step towards her. 'Listen, Miss Somers. George Farnell is wanted for murder. He may be tried as Schreuder for the murder of George Farnell. Or perhaps he will be tried as George Farnell for the murder of Schreuder. It is immaterial. He will be offered a free pardon if he is willing to assist Norway.'

'Does your conscience never worry you, Knut?' Dahler asked with that crooked smile of his.