And Engles talked through it until he had us all roaring with laughter. It was a forced gaiety in that it was produced intentionally by wit and cognac. But the laughter was real. And that was what eventually got Mayne. It took away his authority. It undermined his confidence. He wasn't sure of himself now that he had failed to find the gold. With a gun in his hand and everybody doing what they were told, he could still have bolstered up his self-esteem. But to be ignored! To see the rest of us in such apparently hilarious spirits. It was too much for him. He suddenly crashed his hands on to the keys and stood up. 'Stop laughing!' he shouted.
'Ignore him,' Engles whispered. And he went on talking. We began to laugh again.
'Stop it, do you hear?'
Engles turned. He was swaying slightly. 'S-shtop what, sir?' he asked blandly.
'Go and sit down by the fire and stop that noise,' Mayne ordered.
'What noise? Do you hear a noise, Neil?' He turned in a dignified manner to Mayne. 'No noise here, old man. Must be the piano.'
I glanced at Mayne this time. He was white with anger. But he hesitated. He didn't know what line to take. 'Engles!' he said. 'Go and sit down.'
'Oh, go to hell!' was all the reply he got.
His hand went to the pocket where his gun was. But he stopped. He stood there for a moment, looking at us and biting his lip. Then he sat down at the piano again.
Shortly after this Anna came in with the dinner things. Engles looked at the three of us. 'Don't want any food, do we? I don't mind, eat if you want to. But I'm all for keeping straight on drinking. Or suppose we have it on the bar? Then those who want it can pick at it.' And he gave instructions to Anna to put the food on the bar.
That was the last straw. Mayne either had to get Anna to bring him his food separately or to come over and join us at the bar. He chose the latter course. And shortly after that, he drew Engles on one side. Keramikos was then called over to join them. The consultation lasted only a few minutes. Then the three of them shook hands. I heard Engles say, 'I think you're being very sensible, Mayne.'
Mayne went behind the bar then and began to produce a special mixture of his own for us to try. As he stooped to get a bottle, Engles leaned towards me. 'No shooting. Three-way split.' And his eyelid flickered with amusement.
'What about Carla?' I whispered.
'No provision made,' he replied.
Mayne straightened up and began to mix the drinks, using an empty bottle as a shaker. His ease of manner had partly returned. To see him standing there, smiling and talking and busying himself about our drinks, you would have thought him a charming host — possibly a wealthy playboy, perhaps an actor, maybe even an artist, but never a ruthless, cold-blooded killer.
And why did we all drink so much at the bar that night? Each of us had a different reason. Engles set the pace — unobtrusively, of course, but nevertheless he set the pace. And he made it fast, because he wished to appear to be drunk and he wanted the others to be drunk. I drank because the liquor warmed me and I was keeping Engles company. Joe drank because everyone was friends again and that pleased him. He hated emotional conflicts. No doubt that was why he was a bachelor. Mayne drank because he wanted to catch up with the spirit of the party and to forget that moment at the piano. And Keramikos? I wasn't sure at the time why Keramikos drank.
Engles seemed to get drunk quicker than the others. By eleven o'clock he had had a row with Joe and staggered out of the bar in a blazing temper. Keramikos made a clumsy movement to take up his glass and knocked it on to the floor. He looked at it for a second in a fuddled way, took off his glasses and wiped his eyes and then walked stiffly to the door and went up to bed. The party was beginning to break up. I followed shortly afterwards, leaving Mayne and Joe, both very tight. When I got upstairs, I found Engles sitting on my bed. 'I take it you're not as drunk as you appear to be?' he said.
'I'm pleasantly happy,' I said. 'But I could doubtless sober up if you could show me any good reason why I should.'
'We're getting out of here,' he said.
'When?' I asked.
'Tonight,' he replied. 'As soon as everybody has settled down.' I noticed then that he had got his ski boots on and his windbreaker and gloves were on the chair beside the bed. 'Lock the door,' he said, 'and come and sit down.'
When I had done this, he began to give me instructions. He was concise and clear, just as he had always been when briefing us before an action. His manner was calm and he chose his words carefully, though he was speaking fast. How he managed to think so clearly after all the liquor he had drunk, I don't know. But then, as I have said, he took drink like most people take food. It seemed to feed his brain and stimulate his mind. For myself, I felt distinctly light-headed and I had to concentrate hard to follow and remember what he was saying.
'Have you looked outside?' he asked me.
I told him, 'No.'
'Pull back that curtain, then, and have a look.'
I did this and was surprised to see that it had stopped snowing and the sky had cleared. The great banks of fresh snow that were piled up round the hut shone white in bright moonlight. But the wind still howled dismally and, wherever I looked, the powdery top layer of snow was moving in the way that fine sand shifts low across the desert before a sandstorm.
There's a good, deep drift of snow just below the window here,' he went on. 'As soon as everybody has settled down for the night, I'm going to drop out of your window on to the belvedere. You probably didn't notice, but when we came up to the hut with those tools this evening, I dropped one of the picks into a drift. Mayne didn't notice either. I'm going to take that pick, go through under the supports of the hut and smash open the door to the cable machine-room. Unfortunately Keramikos' room is just above it. He'll hear me breaking the door and he'll come after me then. I don't think I'll have time to smash the other skis. Keramikos has a gun. He told me that in the machine-room this afternoon and I don't want to get shot before I'm clear of this place.'
'I know he's got a gun,' I said. 'But he's too drunk to use it.'
Engles gave a short laugh. 'Nonsense,' he said. 'Keramikos is as sober as I am. And he knows that I can't do him any harm at the moment unless I get at those skis.'
'You mean he was pretending to be drunk?' I asked. My brain was working very slowly.
Engles nodded. 'That last drink I mixed — he didn't touch it. And I didn't give it to you or Joe. There was a Mickey in it. He knew it as soon as he tasted it. Mayne was the only one that drank it. He'll sleep all right tonight.'
'But I don't quite see why Keramikos should want to follow you,' I said.
'My God! You're dull tonight, Neil,' said Engles sharply. 'Keramikos is a Greek national. In Greece we couldn't touch him. But here in Italy it's different. Italy is still conquered territory. We still have our troops in Venezia Giulia. If I could get through to the Field Security Police there, he'd have a pretty nasty time getting out of the country. And he knows that I'm more interested in him than in the gold.'
He lit a cigarette. 'Now then, this is what I want you to do, Neil,' he went on. 'As soon as I have dropped through this window, I want you to open your door slightly and watch the corridor. When Keramikos comes out of his room, slip into Joe's room. Don't let Keramikos see you though. The window of Joe's room faces the slittovia. Lean out and lob something heavy, like the water jug, down by the doorway of the machine-room. I'll know then what margin of time I have. My tracks will be perfectly clear to him. I'll take the slalom run down to Tre Croci. I'll go straight across the pass on to the old Military Patrol route up to Tondi di Faloria. I'll take him through what our boys used to call the "Gun Barrel", and so down to the carabinieri post at Cortina. As soon as Keramikos leaves on my trail, I want you to drop on to the belvedere, get your skis out and make for the hotel at Tre Croci. Get on the phone then to Trieste — Major Musgrave of the Field Security Police. Tell him you're speaking for me. He knows who I am. Tell him to send me as many men as he can from the nearest section by jeep. They're to meet me at the carabinieri post in Cortina. Tell him as much as is necessary to impress on him the urgency of the matter. Make it clear to him that there's a Nazi agent to be picked up. And they must come up by jeep. Tell him the snow is thick and they may not be able to get through in a larger vehicle.' He stopped then and looked at me closely. 'Now, are those instructions quite clear, Neil?'