Fear is the Key

"Yes, I know. Not much point in taking him along with you. A dead man can't accomplish much. Either you dropped a hint that he wouldn't be coming along and he knew why he wouldn't be coming along so he'd fixed it so that he'd get a nice little posthumous revenge, or he hated you so much that if he had to go along he was determined that he was going to take you with him. Out of this world, I mean. Your friend had made a very clever little fix indeed, only he hadn't quite time to finish it before the bends knocked him off — which is why the engines are still out of commission. He'd fixed it so that the bathyscaphe would have operated perfectly; would have gone backwards and forwards, up and down, anything you liked — until you had taken it down to a depth of just over three hundred feet. Then he had fixed that certain hydro-static cut-outs would come into operation. A beautiful job." I wasn't gambling much, I knew their ignorance of those matters was profound.

"And then what?" Vyland asked tightly.

"Then nothing. The bathyscaphe would never have been able to get above three hundred feet again. When either the batteries had been exhausted or the oxygen regenerating unit had failed, as it would have to in a few hours — well, you'd have died of suffocation." I looked at him consideringly. "After, that is, you had screamed your way into madness."

On a previous occasion I had thought I had seen Vyland losing some colour from his rather ruddy cheeks, but on this occasion there was no doubt: he turned white and to conceal his agitation fumbled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit a cigarette with hands whose tremor he could not conceal. Royale, sitting on the table, just smiled his little secret smile and went on unconcernedly swinging his foot. That didn't make Royale any braver than Vyland, maybe it only meant he was less imaginative. The last thing a professional killer could ever afford was imagination; he had to live with himself and the ghosts of all his victims. I looked at Royale again. I swore to myself that one day I would see that face the mask and mirror of fear, as Royale himself had seen so many other faces the masks and mirrors of fear in that last second of awareness and knowingness before he pulled the trigger of his deadly little gun.

"Neat, eh?" Vyland said harshly. He had regained a measure of composure.

"It wasn't bad," I admitted. "At least I sympathise with his outlook, the object he had in mind."

"Funny. Very funny indeed." There were times when Vyland forgot that the well-bred business tycoon never snarls. He looked at me with sudden speculation in his eyes. "You wouldn't be thinking along the same lines yourself, Talbot? Of pulling a fast one like Bryson tried to pull?"

"It's an attractive idea," I grinned at him, "but you insult my intelligence. In the first place, had I had any ideas along those lines do you think I would have given you any hint of them? Besides, I intend to go along with you on this little trip. At least, hope to."

"You do, eh?" Vyland was back on balance, his shrewd quick self again. "Getting suspiciously co-operative all of a sudden, aren't you, Talbot?"

"You can't win," I sighed. "If I said I didn't want to go, you'd think that a damn' sight more suspicious. Be your age, Vyland. Things aren't as they were a few hours ago. Remember the general's speech about ensuring my continued well-being? He meant it all right, he meant every word of it. Try seeing me off and he'll see you off. And you're too much of a business man to make a bad deal like that. Royale here is going to be deprived of the pleasure of killing me."

"Killing gives me no pleasure," Royale put in softly. It was a simple statement of fact and I stared at him, temporarily off-balance by the preposterousness of it.

"Did I hear what I thought I heard?" I asked slowly.

"Ever hear of a ditch-digger digging ditches for pleasure, Talbot?"

"I think I see your point." I stared at him for a long moment, he was even more inhuman than I had ever imagined. "Anyway, Vyland, now that I'm going to live I have a different outlook on things. The sooner this business is over, the sooner I'll be away from you and your cosy little pals. And then, I think, I could put the touch on the general for a few thousand. T hardly think he would like it known that he had been aiding and abetting criminal activities on a grand scale."

"You mean — you mean you'd put the black on the man who saved your life?" Apparently some things were still capable of astonishing Vyland. "God, you're as bad as any of us. Worse."

"I never said I wasn't," I said indifferently. "These are hard times, Vyland. A man must live. And I'm in a hurry. That's why I suggest I come along. Oh, I admit a child could steer and lower and raise the bathyscaphe once he'd read the instructions, but salvage is no job for amateurs. Believe me, Vyland, I know, and it's not. You're amateurs. I'm an expert. It's the one thing I'm really good at. So I come, eh?"