The Stars are Dark

Chapter 1-2

He put his cigarette stub in the ashtray on the bar. He said good-night to the barmaid, put his hands into the pockets of his old navy-blue raincoat. He went out of the bar.

Greeley ordered another half-pint of bitter. When it was brought to him he looked into the tankard rather as if he were expecting to read something in the brown surface of the beer. He was thinking that it would only be necessary for him to allow Fells a couple of minutes—that would be enough. He turned his head slightly as Villiers—his empty glass in his hand—came to the bar. Villiers put his glass down on the bar. He said:

"Ten Players, please, miss!"

The girl brought the cigarettes. Villiers put the shilling on the bar and turned away. As he did so his foot touched Greeley's accidentally.

Greeley was inclined to be artistic. He said: "Go easy, that's my blinkin' foot."

Villiers said: "Sorry!"

Greeley said: "That's all bleedin' well, but I got a corn on that foot. I've tried everything for that corn that a man can think of—plasters and Gawd knows what. But it's still there. Funny thing is, on a night like this, when it's a bit cold, and there's maybe a spot of rain hangin' about, that corn starts sproutin' like hell. The slightest thing and the pain goes right through me. It's useful in a way though—it always tells me what the weather's going to be like."

Villiers said: "Does it? That must be very nice for you."

Greeley said: "You're not being sarcastic, are you?"

Villiers shook his head. "I wouldn't be sarcastic about a man who's got a corn," he said. "Have a look at me—do I look the sort of person who'd be sarcastic about a thing like that?"

Greeley said: "Well, I can't say you do and I can't say you don't."

Villiers said: "Well, that's all right."

Greeley drained his tankard. He said: "If it's O.K. with you it's O.K. with me."

Villiers opened the packet of cigarettes; took one out. He lit it and looked at the glowing end for a moment; then he said casually: "Well, good-night." He went out.

Massanay, who had ordered a gin and tonic, put the empty glass down on the mantelpiece. He held out his hands to the fire for a moment; then walked over to the door. As he pushed aside the black-out curtain he said to the barmaid:

"I take the left fork for Halliday—don't I?"

She nodded. "Over to the right of the copse," she said. "An' take care you don't fall in the sewage pit."

Massanay nodded. Greeley, lighting a cigarette, heard the door close.

After a minute he said: "I suppose you shut at ten o'clock."

The barmaid nodded. "That's right," she said. "It's a good thing too. There's very little business doing around here these days."

Greeley said: "I should think so. Funny sort of place to have a pub—sort of deserted, isn't it?"

She said: "It used not to be. There used to be a lot of traffic on this road before the war was on. Most of the lorries found it easier to come round this way. We used to do lunches." She sighed. "I wonder if those days will ever come back," she said.

Greeley said: "I wonder! Well, I'll be goin'."

She said suddenly: "You'd better be careful if you're going over the cliff path. The wind's strong to-night. Two years ago a man was blown over."

Greeley said: "Ah! But I'm not going over the cliff path."

"Well, you'll have a long walk to the town," said the girl.

He said: "I know. I like walking." He thought: 'To hell with this woman. Now I've got to walk down the road to the town just in case she's looking out of the window, and it's a clear night so I'll have to walk quite a way.' He put the box of cigarettes in his pocket. He said: "Well, good night. Sleep well." He went out.

3

THE WIND HOWLED dismally round the cliff edge. On the top of the cliff amongst the scrub where the cleft began, a little shower of stones and dry twigs descended and rolled down into the gully. Half-way down the cleft where the cliff walls were twenty feet high, where there was protection from the wind, Greeley, Villiers and Massanay sat, their backs against the cliff wall. Villiers was whistling softly to himself.

Massanay said: "It would be funny if they didn't come!" He took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.

Greeley looked at him sideways. He said, with a not unkind grin: "Maybe the wish is father to the thought, hey? And I wouldn't light a cigarette if I were you—just in case they did come."

Villiers said: "They'll come all right. They're consistent bastards." His voice was bitter.

Greeley said: "Yes, they're consistent enough. Whatever else you can accuse 'em of you couldn't say they were inconsistent. They make up their minds to do something and they go on doin' it." He grinned in the darkness. "They haven't got the bleedin' sense to stop doin' it even when they get knocked off."

Villiers said: "Well, the boys behind 'em don't know they're knocked off, do they—anyway not for a long time?"

Greeley said: "That's as maybe. The thing is they keep on comin'."

He got up. He began to walk down the cleft towards the seashore. In spite of the darkness he walked surely. He made no noise. Almost at the bottom of the cleft, standing behind a ledge in the cliff wall, was Fells. He was looking out to sea. He had a night glass to his eyes.

Greeley said: "You won't see much. There's a mist comin' up. It's bloody bad visibility."

Fells said in a soft, almost disinterested voice: "So much the better. They'll have to come in close before they signal."

Greeley said: "They'll be goddam good if they find the place on a night like this."

Fells put the night glasses back into the case which hung round his neck. He said: "If they're coming they'll find it—that is if they've got so far."

Greeley ran his tongue over his lips. He said: "I hope they do come." There was silence for a minute; then Greeley asked: "How are you goin' to play this?"

Fells said: "I don't know whether the people coming in know the party who were supposed to meet them—the people whose place we're taking. We might have to think quickly. If they didn't know this Apfel, who's the contact man here, we shall be all right."

Greeley said: "I see. That means to say you're goin' to meet 'em and give 'em the old schmooze."

Fells nodded. "My German's good enough for that," he said.

Greeley said: "Well, that's all right. And supposin' they do know what this Apfel fellow looks like, and they take a look at you and see that you are not Apfel. So what then?"

Fells smiled. He looked at Greeley. He said:

"That's where you'll have to be very quick."

Greeley said in a matter-of-fact tone: "All right. You go down towards the beach but not too far. I'll stick around here in the shadow. Villiers can be on the other side of the cleft behind me. We've got to know where each of us is going to be, see?"

Fells said: "That all sounds very nice. What do you propose to do with Massanay?" He was still smiling.

Greeley said: "I think we'll leave him out. He can stick up at the end of the cleft and watch the cliff top. I think he's feelin' a little bit cold in the stomach. Don't get me wrong—there's nothing wrong with Massanay. He's a nice boy, but we can't afford any slip-ups."

Fells said: "Definitely not." He sounded quite disinterested. He was thinking, in fact, that he really must go up and see Tommy Trinder at the Palladium. The words on the poster—'You lucky people!'—for some reason or other passed through his mind with monotonous regularity.

Greeley leaned up against the cliff wall. He was relaxed, indifferent, poised. Fells thought: 'Greeley doesn't give a damn for anything.' He liked Greeley just as much as one man can like another one.

Greeley said: "What's on your mind? You're thinkin' of something, aren't you?"

Fells's smile broadened. He said: "Yes—the oddest thing. I saw one of those Palladium posters about Tommy Trinder. For some weird reason the words—'You lucky people!'—keep going through my mind. When I've got time I must go and see that show."

Greeley said: "That's a good one." He spat artistically. "You lucky people!" He looked about him, shrugged his shoulders humorously. "Are we lucky or are we?" he said—"on a bloody picnic like this!"

Fells asked softly: "Do you mind it?"

Greeley said: "What the hell! I should worry!"

There was a silence. No one spoke. Suddenly, from out of the mist on the other side of the waves that broke gently up the shelving beach, there came the sound of a sea-gull screeching three times.

Greeley said between his teeth: "For crissake... the boy friends."

Fells said: "Well, here we go!" He moved a few steps towards the beach, took a flash lamp from his pocket and, standing up against the cliff wall, began to flash the lamp out to sea.

Greeley moved back a few paces, cuddled his shoulder against an overhanging boulder, slipped his hand into the pistol holster under his left arm, brought out the pistol. He moved back the safety catch; stood, his right arm hanging straight down by his side. He whistled very softly between his teeth.

Villiers came down. He said: "So they've made it?"

Greeley said: "That's right, chum. Look, the boss is keepin' over to the right, so he'll be on the right-hand side of the cleft where it runs down to the sand. That's where the talkin' will be. I'm goin' to be here on the left. You be a little higher up on the other side. That way we don't give it to each other, see?"

Villiers said: "I see. Look, if they're leery, you wouldn't miss, would you? If you did, it wouldn't be so good for Fells."

Greeley said: "You go and teach your bleedin' grandmother to suck eggs! Have you ever known me to miss?"

Villiers grinned. "No," he said. "But everybody's got to start some time." He moved back up the cleft.

The nose of a boat grated on the shingle that edged the sand. Two men jumped out. They came through the water up the beach. Fells made a movement towards them. He stopped, still in the shadow of the cliff. He stood there waiting, the flash-lamp in his left hand. The leading man out of the boat was by now only a few feet from Fells. He was peering forward in the darkness.

Fells said quietly: "Guten Abend. Ich hoffe Sie hatten eine gute Überfahrt."

The man from the boat said: "Ja, sie war nicht so schlecht." Then, suddenly, as he saw Fells's face, he began to shout. Three words were out of his mouth when Greeley fired.

The bullet hit the leading man in the stomach. He made a horrible noise, crumpled up in the sand. He was trying to get at his coat pocket. By this time Fells had dropped the lamp and fired through the right-hand pocket of his raincoat. He shot the second man. Three shots came from the direction of the boat. Immediately Greeley, followed by Villiers, both of them bent double, ran down the beach towards the boat. Greeley fired three times—Villiers twice.