SS Glasgow Castle 40 Chapter Forty

"You f.u.c.king son of a b.i.t.c.h. You f.u.c.king liar. You're a thief and a murderer. You psychopathic c.u.n.t."

I was right on the edge of pulling the trigger. I felt myself trembling. He saw that. He stood very still.

"I didn't steal those diamonds," he said. "I swear. I know who did. I know the whole story. That they're looking for eight men and so on. But there were two. The eight of us, we just all cut and ran because of the coup. The people that seized power hated our guts and there was trouble coming. And two guys from our group, yes, they stopped on their way out and hijacked the gems. One's dead now, and the other's in a Bolivian jail. The diamonds we have aren't the stones they stole. Take your finger off the trigger. These guns are very old and in poor shape. It's easy to have an accident while handling one."

"You're the accident," I said. "You're the walking fatal accident. You don't f.u.c.king get it, do you. You tell me right now where these stones came from. Or no. Let's start at the beginning. Who was your n.a.z.i father?"

The a.s.shole had actually began smiling but stopped very quickly when my finger curled over the trigger.

"Take it easy, Oscar," he said. "Hang on. Could we discuss this a little later? When we've gotten a safe distance away?"

"No, we cannot. It's now or never."

"d.a.m.n you. Okay! All right! I'll tell you what you want to know, and I can do it with my hands up and kneeling on the ground if you like. As long as you take your finger off that f.u.c.king trigger. Just put it on the trigger guard, you'll still be able to shoot me very quickly indeed. Thank you."

He took a deep breath, let it out in a sad sigh, and said:
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"My father wasn't a n.a.z.i. He just happened to be German at the wrong time. He wasn't even really German. His family had lived in Latvia for centuries before getting kicked out right before the war. Look, we don't have time for this - "

"So leave the f.u.c.king family out of it. Who was he."

"He was a naval officer." He hesitated and said: "He commanded a submarine."

"You f.u.c.king liar."

He saw my finger move back to the trigger and his eyes widened. He said quickly:

"You can check everything I tell you. I swear it's true. Any naval history of the war will do. He commanded the U-117, a big Type Nine ocean-going submarine. It was sunk, and he was taken prisoner in January 1942. Right on the coast we've just visited."

I didn't believe him. But I didn't disbelieve him either. I said:

"f.u.c.k him and f.u.c.k you too. Where did you get the diamonds. Where were you when that safe was getting robbed."

"Most likely around here. Where we are now. The airport was closed and I went over the border in the same spot. In my car."

"Where did you get the diamonds."

"I didn't steal them."

"I'm getting f.u.c.king tired of this."

I dropped the barrel slightly, aiming at his stomach. He said:

"Don't f.u.c.king do it. I didn't take them. My old man did."

"f.u.c.k you and your n.a.z.i war criminal daddy."

"Don't do it. He wasn't a war criminal. He played by the rules. He stopped s.h.i.+ps and checked cargoes and only sank the s.h.i.+p if it contained war materials after letting the crew launch the lifeboats. You can check all this. There's even a book about him. All you need is to search a library index for the name Kross. I swear. You can check everything. Later. Now let's get going."

"How did he get the diamonds."

"He got them off a s.h.i.+p. In November 1941 he stopped a British freighter. sailing back to Britain. The captain had the diamonds in his safe. A month's worth of production."

"What was the name of that s.h.i.+p."

"SS Glasgow Castle."

"SS?"

"Steams.h.i.+p."

"And I can find it in this book."

"Yes. You'll probably find mentions in several books, as a matter of fact. Do us both a favor and put your finger back on the trigger guard, okay? That trigger has a spring that is forty years old. It can give way suddenly."

"Why didn't he get the diamonds himself? After the war?"

"He felt very bad about the war. Especially once it all came out about the concentration camps and the Jews. It f.u.c.ked him up. He didn't ever want to see the diamonds again."

"But he changed his mind," I said.

"He told me before he died, yes. Recently."

"Okay. Let's a.s.sume that's all true. How come he stashed them here?"

"Right after he'd met up with the Glasgow Castle, the sub was spotted by a plane and attacked before it could dive. It wasn't sunk, but it was damaged. So after a couple of days my father gave orders to beach it and then everyone made their way to the nearest settlement. They thought they were in Ivory Coast, Vichy French territory. But they were in Gold Coast, and they were captured by the Brits."

I couldn't shoot him any more. Not because I believed him; I simply wasn't so angry any more. I threw the rifle to the ground, walked away a few steps and sat down. I looked at the setting sun and thought maybe that's the last sunset I'd ever get to watch. It made me terribly sad. I wondered briefly who would get to kill me: Kross, or the soldiers pursuing us.

Kross didn't shoot me. I heard him unsling his bag, set it down and unzip it. Once I'd stopped fighting tears I glanced sideways and saw he'd taken out the pouch with the diamonds and was in the act of carefully examining a sock, of all things. Both rifles were lying on the ground. It was very quiet - no insects, no nothing - and I could hear the diamonds rustle as Kross poured several small handfuls into the sock. He tied the top into a knot and tossed it at me. It hit me on the shoulder and fell to the ground.

He said:

"Probably more than your share. About a third. I guess worth about half a million bucks."

At first I wanted to pick that sock up and throw it in his face. I didn't - I heard a new sound, a quivering, buzz that got louder. It was the sound of a couple of vehicles approaching.

I looked in the direction of the road and saw that a couple of vehicles were driving in our direction. It was difficult to see what they were because of the bush. But I was quite sure they were coming to get us.

I glanced at Kross; he was listening, too. He said:

"Let's go."

He quickly zipped up his bag and slung it across his back. I got up and picked up my bag and put it on my shoulder and put the sock into my leg pocket.

Kross had gathered both rifles, slinging one over his shoulder. He looked at me and said:

"Snap out of it. Come on." And he started walking, or rather loping ahead.

The sound of engines was getting close and then the engines were cut and I heard a shout. I ran after Kross. We went over the top of the rise and down the slope on the other side and saw the ground swell in another gentle rise. We ran barely a couple of dozen steps towards it when there was another shout, quite close behind us.

It was followed by a new sound, as if someone had started clapping. Then there was a whizz by my ear and a loud smack and a small explosion of dirt burst from a patch of bare soil a few steps ahead and to the side.

Kross shouted: "Over the top!" and we ran side by side up the rise. I heard no more popping, nothing but the thud of my feet on the ground, the rustling of the gra.s.s and my own rasping breath. I reached the top first and wrong-footed it and tumbled down the slope, my bag slipping off my shoulder.

Kross ran up to me and squatted down. He said:

"You all right?" I couldn't f.u.c.king believe it. I mean he must have known I'd really wanted to kill him just a short while earlier. I said:

"I'm fine." He nodded and then he shocked me even more. He held my rifle, the A. H. rifle out to me and said:

"We have to split up. All this f.u.c.king talk - definitely wrong time and the place. It's an hour till dark. Once it's dark we're safe. Those boys don't like operating at night. But they're bold now, and they need a scare. You go on, and I'll give them one."

He thrust the rifle at me again. I sat up and took it.

"Know how to work it?"

"Yes, I fooled around with a bolt-action twenty-two when I was a kid."

"Good. Try not to use if you can help it, it might blow up. But do fire it if you run into a crocodile. Shoot once, and run like h.e.l.l. They are very fast when they lunge for the target, but can't run for long. Watch the tail. One swipe can cut off your legs."

"Crocodiles?" I said.

He ignored that. He pointed at the setting sun and said:

"See that baobab over there? Keep going in that direction. Couple hours, and you'll see the river. There are trees and bushes growing alongside and that's where you might run across a croc. So don't get too close to the river, just keep it in sight. Turn right, that's north, and follow the river for a while until you come to a creek. Stay alert for crocodiles and get across, and soon after that the trees and the crocs end for good. Another four-five hours walking, and you'll hit the spot where we got across and you can start following the track to the dirt road. Follow me so far?"

I nodded numbly.

"Good. Once across the river and back in Ivory Coast, dump the gun and the uniform. Get to the road and get a ride to Boundoukou. Contact Mireille and tell her our car f.u.c.ked up, and that I've stayed behind to get it fixed. I should catch up with you within twenty four hours. If I don't, go back to Abidjan and our hotel. If I'm not there by the morning of the next day, get in touch with Raymond – you know, the pilot you met back in Paris, the guy who flew us down - and leave exactly as scheduled. We'll meet again back in Toronto. At home."

"Home," I said. "Sure. Why not."

"Go to the Air Afrique office in the hotel, and leave a message for Raymond Best. He'll help you with everything. Capitaine Raymond Best, just like in English. Got it?"

"Got it," I mumbled. "But what do I tell him?"

Kross frowned, and it was then that we heard a shout. It sounded like an order, and it sounded close.

"Tell Raymond that Giselle was right," said Kross. "Tell him I'll see him soon. Giselle. Got it?"

"Giselle," I said. Kross patted my shoulder and said:

"Okay. f.u.c.k off now. You can't get lost once you hit the river. Get going and I'll keep them here for a while." I hesitated - I had the feeling I'll never see him again. He was about add something forceful when I said:

"Kross. Just one thing. Why me? Why the f.u.c.k me?"

He smiled tightly and said:

"Because I like you."