“Jake Hobart was married, and I think Johnny had fallen in love with his bride and killed Jake over it.”

“What?” Brewster cawed.

“It’s true. Jake knew about how you didn’t trust working with married miners, Josh, so he never told you. He confided in me, and even asked that I send some postcards on his behalf when we were in Paris. I mailed some when we went to the tasting session at the food company, and I had Arn send a final one from Aberdeen that told her Jake had died back in Russia.”

Bell said, “I did find evidence that Johnny had a girl he couldn’t be with.”

Vern Hall nodded in the darkness. “He spent a lot of time with Jake Hobart because Jake was teaching him how to be a blaster. That’s how Johnny met the wife, who’s much younger than Jake. Maybe even younger than Johnny. I think what happened was Johnny fell in love with her and wanted to get Jake out of the way. He must have seen an opportunity on the island, committed the murder, and made it look like Jake had died in a storm.”

Bell seemed intrigued by Hall’s theory, and asked, “How do the French play into this scenario? We know someone contacted them from the Hvalur Batur.”

“Not sure,” Hall admitted. “I didn’t know about that. Must be they promised him a job with them and a home for him and Adeline.”

Bell got up and felt his way over to the truck. He reached in and flipped on the headlamps. Though they appeared dim while driving, they gave off more than enough light to fill the small barn.

“Why’d you do that?” Vern Hall asked peevishly.

“Because,” Bell said, “it’s time to put an end to this charade.”

40

Bell’s words hung in the air for a long moment.

Vernon Hall looked from Bell to Brewster and back again. He somehow managed to sound defiant when he asked, “What charade?”

“What’s going on, Bell?” Brewster asked.

“I needed Vernon to pass on to Gly the name of the ship we’ve booked passage on and when it sails.”

Brewster’s eyes went wide and his mouth slack.

“You haven’t figured it out? Johnny Caldwell wasn’t the saboteur. He was a victim. Your old friend Vern was the one who sold you all down the river. I realized a couple of days ago but needed to keep him around to pass the information on to Gly. I’ve got to hand it to you, Hall, you had me going for a long while. And pretending to be concussed since that night on the train was a brilliant move.”

Hall made like he was going to get to his feet.

Bell had his .45 in hand before Hall had moved even an inch. Hall relaxed again, but his eyes glittered and darted like a trapped rodent. “What threw me initially was the squeaky door I heard on the whaling ship. You hid your identity from Arn well enough when you used the radio, but you couldn’t risk his reporting your visit without finding a way of deflecting suspicion onto someone else.

“When you were finished calling your people on the Lorient, you came down to my cabin, made a noise outside of it loud enough to wake me, and then opened and closed one of the other cabin doors to make me think it was one of the six men sleeping near me who’d just been up. I went to the bridge, where Arn told me about one of the miners in the radio shack. I tested the set and found it was still warm. But I never once thought it was you because your cabin was on a different deck than mine.”

Bell looked to Brewster. He appeared unable to grasp the level of betrayal. Bell had no choice but to plow on. “I realized after I found you unconscious on the train that the blow to the head—self-inflicted, no doubt—was the only mark on you. The rest of us were banged-up from the fight on the dock, but you didn’t have a scratch. It’s because you didn’t participate. You were hoping the French would beat us there and you’d get whatever reward Gly had offered you.

“But the two times I checked your eyes, they didn’t react like someone with a head injury. So I was suspicious. When it appeared we might give Gly the slip permanently by switching trucks in Birmingham, you suddenly woke up. You had to get word to Gly.”

Bell looked again at Brewster. Brewster still stared at Vern as though he’d never seen him before. The detective continued his narration. “Vern couldn’t reach the French from Novaya Zemlya because you’d secretly disabled the radio, forcing him to make the clandestine call from the whaling ship. From that, Gly knew we were headed to Aberdeen and he had an ambush waiting for us. What follows after that—I really have to hand it to Gly, he’s as smart as he is evil. By putting that telephone number and mention of a reward in newspapers, he turned everyone in central England into his personal spy. The innkeeper made the call and the French almost got away with the ore. Next, Gly correctly figured we needed to change vehicles and couldn’t do it through any legitimate means. That led me to the next major city, Birmingham. And Gly had already put out word to the local underworld to be on the lookout for us. I practically handed us to George Devlin on a silver platter.”

Bell paused for a reflective moment. “Had it not been for Warry O’Deming, we’d all be dead and the ore lost behind an abandoned cotton mill for all eternity.

“But Gly’s not a mind reader. He could have guessed we’d head to Southampton, but he didn’t know our ship or sailing time. During the initial stage of the fight in the garage, I saw Vern speaking to one of the mechanics. I had gone over the travel arrangements my agent in London made for me again this morning so there would be no confusion when he passed on our itinerary. That’s why I saved the man as we were leaving the garage. I had to make sure Gly had that information.” Bell turned his attention back to Vernon Hall. “Now that that task is completed, I no longer have any use for you.”

“That’s nothing but pure fantasy, Bell,” Hall said. “None of it’s true. Johnny cracked me over the head with a shovel and I’ve been unconscious until just this morning.”

Bell ignored him. “There’s two things I don’t have an answer to. One, I don’t know why you did it. I assume you were offered a tremendous amount of money and you believed—wrongly, I suspect—that Gly would let you live. You’re a loose end to him. He’d just as soon put a knife into your belly as honor his bargain. The second thing I don’t know is, how you planned to pin this on someone else if I ever got suspicious. Blaming a lovelorn Johnny Caldwell and claiming ignorance about the radio equipment and the call from the Batur was good.”

“I almost believed it myself,” Brewster said in a dead monotone. “I wanted to believe it.”

“You two have been friends for a long time, so I can’t blame you,” Bell told him. “You see, Hall, Johnny probably did know Jake Hobart’s wife, but it wasn’t her picture he carried. When concocting lies, it’s best to keep them as vague as possible. Naming Adeline Hobart as Johnny’s love was a mistake. I’m not sure of his girl’s name, but it ended in tia, and Johnny couldn’t be with her because there are laws on the books and prejudice in men’s hearts over people of different races being happy together. You took your lie one step too far. I’ve known about your being the mole for a while now, but I needed you to reveal yourself in front of Joshua. Otherwise, he never would have believed me. Right?”

“That’s why you told us about Johnny and the girl when we were back at the pub.”

Tags: Clive Cussler Isaac Bell Thriller
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