'What was he doing there?'

'He was an expert on metal alloys. He was engaged on certain low temperature tests in the German test sheds by Finsevatn.'

'Did Farnell meet him up at Finse?'

Dahler shrugged his shoulders. 'I do not know,' he said. He looked up at Jorgensen. 'What was Schreuder doing up on the Jostedal with Farnell?' he asked.

But Jorgensen had recovered his ease of manner. 'I don't know,' he said. 'And I must say, Mr Gansert, that I am surprised that you took the attitude you did just now. I have never heard of this man Schreuder until last night. He may have been a collaborator, as Dahler says. He may work for D.N.S. But you must remember that because I manage the affairs of the company, it does not mean that I know everyone who works in the laboratories, workshops and foundries.' He turned towards the companionway. 'Let me know when we are nearing Bovaagen Hval, please.'

I watched him go below with a feeling that I hadn't handled him very well. It was quite possible for Schreuder to have worked for D.N.S. without Jorgensen knowing. And what reason had I to believe Dahler, a man branded as a traitor, in preference to one of the country's industrial leaders? And then I began to wonder again why Schreuder should have been on the Jostedal when Farnell met his death.

One thing I was now determined to do — I must have a postmortem carried out on Farnell's body. I must know whether there was any evidence of a struggle. If Schreuder had killed Farnell… But why the message in that consignment of whale meat if he worked for D.N.S. - why the desire to get to England? It didn't make sense.

I must have sat there lost in thought for a long time, for Curtis suddenly emerged from the chartroom and said, 'Skipper — this looks like the gap we take for Bovaagen.'

I noticed then that we were close in to the islands. They were bare, salt-scored rock without sign of habitation. A narrow gap with sheer cliffs like the Corinth canal cut through to Hjeltefjord. I checked with the chart and then ordered Carter, who was at the wheel, to alter course. As we glided into the gap the wind died away. I took the wheel and sent Carter below to start the engine.

The sea was smooth as glass. The gap was like a street paved with water. The rock cliffs on either side threw back the sound of our engine. We passed a brief inlet with a little wag or wharf. Beside it lay the bones of a barge, weed-grown and slimy. Above, a white wooden cottage, perched precariously under the cliffs. The flag of Norway flew lazily from a flag-pole. Children waved to us, their shrill voices mingling with the sound of the engine. We glided out into the wide thoroughfare of Hjeltefjord. Here, too, the sea was a mirror, broken only by the long ripples of our wash trailing out on either side from the bows. And in the continued absence of any wind we lowered the sails. We turned north then, following the distant wake of a coastal steamer. Dahler touched my arm and pointed to the land over the stern. 'That is Herdla,' he said. 'The Germans built nearly five hundred gun positions round the coast of Norway. The island of Herdla was one of the strongest — sunken batteries, torpedo positions, even an airfield.'