The Blue Ice

'What I do, I do for Norway,' Jorgensen barked. 'In everything I have done — both during the war and since — it has been of Norway that I have been thinking. Norway needs these mineral resources. Instead of a poor country, dependant on fish and timber, she might then become rich. What is one man's life against the livelihood of three million people, eh? And who killed Schreuder, if Farnell did not?'

'You will still not get the information you want,' Jill said.

Jorgensen gave an abrupt laugh. 'My dear Miss Somers. No man faces a life sentence if he can help it. Farnell will talk.'

But Jill walked towards him. 'I tell you, he will not talk. George has no interest in anything but these metals. He has sacrificed everything to that end — everything, I tell you. I know,' she added softly. 'The threat of imprisonment will not make him talk unless he wants to. He has never thought — '

The door burst open behind me and she stopped speaking. Her mouth fell open and then in a whisper she breathed, 'George!'

'Get back against the table, all of you.' The voice was hard, desperate.

I turned. Standing in the doorway, a Luger in his hand, was George Farnell. If Jill had not spoken his name, I don't think I should have known him. His face was white and covered with several days' growth of beard. Snow was plastered over him. His voice was cold and metallic. 'Go on. Get back. All of you. You too, Jill.' That was all to her. He'd recognised her. But that was all his greeting.

'Farnell!' I said. 'Thank God you're here. Don't go down to the Oslo train. The police will be on it.'

'I know. I heard, I've been listening outside the door ever since Jorgensen arrived. Go on, get back — you too, Gansert. I'm trusting nobody.'

I backed away until I felt the hard edge of the table against my body.

'Jill. Go behind that table and get their pistols from them. Throw them over here to me here.'

But she didn't move. 'George. You've got to listen to me. Mr Gansert has his yacht in Aurland. We can get you away to England. You can't stay here. They're going to arrest you for the murder of a man called Schreuder.' Her voice choked. 'I saw his body at Fjaerland. You didn't kill him — did you?'

'Do as I say,' he answered without a trace of emotion. 'Get their guns off them.'

Jill hesitated. 'You didn't kill him, did you?' she asked again.

'Of course, I killed him,' Farnell replied harshly. 'What else was I to do — have a swine of a Nazi collaborator steal all that I'd worked for? For two years I worked up at Finse on forced labour, crawling to the Germans, ingratiating myself, earning freedom to find out what I wanted to find out. And then after the war, always hiding. Never able to return to England. What did you expect me to do with the bastard when I found he'd.followed me and seen me at work? Go on, Jill — now get those guns.'

I glanced at her face. It was set and hard. She turned away and went along behind the table. In all, she collected three guns and threw them on to the floor at Farnell's feet. That's better,' he said. He kicked them into a corner and went over to the stove. 'So you've got the police on the Oslo train, Jorgensen?' His eyes peered at us through his glasses. 'I wonder how the devil so many of you managed to converge here? Somebody's been talking.' He searched our faces. Then his eyes fell on the flask of brandy. He picked it up and took a long swig. 'A-ah. That's better. So you came all the way from England in your own boat, Gansert — just to find me?'

I nodded.

He smiled. 'When you finally achieve what you've been fighting for all your life, then people will help you.' He swung viciously towards me. 'And that's just when you don't need their help. When you need them, they're not there. When you don't they come rushing half across the world in their fine yachts searching for you. God! If only I'd been interested in archaeology instead of mineralogy — how much pleasanter my life would have been! There's no money in archaeology. But minerals! Remember how they wanted to get rid of us with out even paying us the salary they owed us out in Southern Rhodesia. Then I located the copper. They couldn't have done more for us after that — the bastards.' His face seemed drawn and bitter. He hadn't had an easy road. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. Nobody spoke. Slowly he looked up and stared straight at Jorgensen. 'Jill was quite right, you know,' he said quietly. 'You're threat of prison wouldn't have made me tell you anything.'

Jill took a step towards him. Then she stopped. 'Why don't you tell Bill where the thorite is?' she said. 'He'll play fair with you — and he's got B.M. & I. behind him.'