High Water (1959) Read Online Free PDF Page A

bucket, he slid quietly into the shed, his rubber deck shoes making no sound, and reaching the office door undetected, he paused, searching for a gap in the torn sacking across its windowless entrance. It would be interesting to see what amount of money was worth a seven-hundred-pound travel ticket.
    Holding his breath, he gently eased himself against the lower part of the door, so that the excited beat of his heart seemed deafening, and then with one finger, he slowly began to raise the bottom edge of the sacking.
    At first he could see nothing but the stooping back of the other man’s overalls, but then, as he turned towards the table, he saw the contents of the two drums strewn on the narrow bench opposite the door. His breath choked in his throat. It had been money all right, but not the sort of cash required by a legitimate business. From one end of the bench to the other American dollar bills of every possible denomination were sorted neatly into little, fat packets. It was obvious that both the drums must have been completely filled, for the pile, even to Vivian’s inexperienced eye, represented a fortune, running into many thousands of dollars, and on the Continent, where any mortal thing could be purchased for American money, it represented power untold.
    Vivian drew back, confused and startled. Knowingly or innocently, whichever way he chose to interpret his actions, he was mixed up in something a little more disquieting than dodging petty restrictions. For a moment he felt a wild fury sweep over him, and in that instant it seemed the only course of action open to him was to burst into the office, and beat the truth out of the occupant, and then do the same for Cooper. The eventual realization that he alone was the smuggler, as far as the law was concerned, acted like a douche of cold water to his reeling brain. By God, Lang must have known about this. Or did he? Vivian backed cautiously to the gates, his mind working furiously. Suppose he too was being taken in by his Danish employer, and was just being used as a tool? Whatever the outcome, it was obvious that right at that moment he had to get back to England, and get the truth out of him. Grimly he clambered down on to the
Seafox
’s deck, noting as he did so, the wet imprint of a shoe by the wheelhouse door.
    Cooper had returned, sitting back on one of the cushioned benches, his legs stuck out, a general air of well-being surrounding him. His dark eyes were faintly mocking, and Vivian noticed with disgust that he was wearing silk ankle socks.
    ‘Everything went perfectly, I see,’ he commented at length. ‘Not a hitch in our little drama.’ He waved apologetically with his pale hands. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot, you’ve been used to drama.’
    ‘And what the hell is all that supposed to mean?’ asked Vivian shortly.
    Perhaps it would be a good idea to beat him up after all, and involuntarily he took a step forward.
    A brief look of alarm flitted across the dark eyes, as Cooper hastened to assure him:
    ‘Oh, nothing really. It’s just that I’ve always had the highest respect and envy for you naval chaps. I——’
    But Vivian, relieved of the strain of the trip, and aware that he had no choice but to go through with whatever scheme was required to get the truth about the organization, had had enough.
    ‘You’re a bloody, little liar,’ he announced calmly. ‘So for God’s sake, let’s just leave it at that.’
    Cooper sat taut and watchful, like a trapped animal, his hands screwing up the corner of his immaculate blazer.
    ‘Furthermore, we’re going straight back to London, and not to Torquay,’ he added, after a pause. ‘I’ve been paid for the trip, and now I’ve got some other business to attend to, so what d’you think of that?’
    ‘Gee, you must do as you think, Captain, it’ll suit me better too, and goddamit, I’m sorry I riled you, honest.’ His mouth hung open pleadingly.
    ‘Forget it,’ snapped Vivian. ‘But just