Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,29
her distraught brother. Maxine took one look at Paul before rushing to light the wood-burning stove so that she could heat a pan of water to clean his arm and remake the filthy dressing.
‘Why’d you try to leave?’ Henderson bawled, as he hoisted PT off the floor and slammed him down in a dining chair. ‘Guess I was a fool trusting you, eh? Stealing my gold, eh? What were you gonna do? Walk into town and try selling us out to the Gestapo?’
PT’s head rolled forwards. Henderson thrust his chair up to the table to stop him flopping forwards.
‘You gonna tell me straight, or would you prefer me to thrash the truth out of you?’ Henderson shouted.
A string of dried blood and snot hit the wooden table as Henderson closed up behind. The other three youngsters watched nervously from the opposite end of the table.
‘I just wanted out of here,’ PT explained through a bloody mouth. ‘I thought we were going across to Spain. Then yesterday you started talking about spies and fixing radios and stuff. I’m not up for any of that. All I want is a quiet life.’
Henderson grabbed a handful of hair and slammed PT’s head against the tabletop. ‘Why should I believe you?’ he bellowed scarily.
Maxine turned sharply away from the stove. ‘For god’s sake, Charles. He’s a kid!’
‘Why did you try sneaking off?’ Henderson demanded. ‘Why did you steal my gold?’
‘The same reason that carry gold,’ PT sobbed indignantly. ‘There are some things that only gold can pay for: including the gypsy guides who help people across the mountains and into Spain.’you
‘You’re a liar,’ Henderson snarled, keeping up the pressure even though he knew PT was right about the gypsies. ‘You were going straight to the Gestapo in town. You were going to rat on us, grab a fat reward while the Gestapo tortured your supposed friends Rosie, Paul and Marc to death.’
‘Bull crap!’ PT shouted. ‘A quiet life, that’s all I wanted.’
Henderson smiled slightly. ‘The thing is, PT, I can’t trust you any more. I can’t let you go, because you know too much, and I haven’t got any prison to lock you up in. That only leaves me with one real choice, doesn’t it?’
Henderson slipped the pistol out of his jacket and flipped off the safety. PT swivelled his eyes towards the gun in a state of complete terror.
‘You can’t kill him!’ Rosie screamed.
‘Why the hell shouldn’t I kill the little traitor?’ Henderson shouted.
Marc was torn up. He knew what Henderson was capable of and he hated that PT had betrayed them and tried to steal some of his meagre possessions, but PT had been his friend and wrestling partner for the last three weeks and that still counted for something.
‘Please, Mr Henderson,’ PT sobbed, as the muzzle pressed against his bloody temple. ‘I haven’t been into town since the sank. I don’t know where the Germans are, or if they’d pay a reward. And believe me, I wouldn’t go near the authorities. They’d be as likely to arrest me as you.’Cardiff Bay
‘So why’s that?’ Henderson asked.
‘I didn’t win that money gambling,’ PT explained. ‘Check my notebook. It’s in the brown case with a newspaper article folded up inside. That’s who I really am. If you read it you’ll see why I’d never go near the cops, the Gestapo, or anyone else.’
Rosie was nearest the case. She quickly found the notebook and a water-damaged sheet of newspaper folded between the pages. She unfurled it and read the headline aloud, ‘Hunt for tunnel-heist boy continues.’
Beneath the headline was a short article, and a family picture.
‘They must have searched our apartment and found the photo,’ PT explained. ‘That’s the only picture of my family I’ve got.’
‘So you didn’t win the money gambling on board a ship?’ Henderson asked.
PT shook his head. ‘Two cops died in that robbery and the Feds issued an international arrest warrant. If they haul my ass back to the USA I’m as good as dead. I’m on the French-police wanted list, so believe me, I’m the last person on earth who’d go anywhere near the Gestapo or the cops.’
Henderson wiped the bloody muzzle of his gun on a handkerchief before putting it back into its holster. PT gasped with relief, but Henderson shocked him by banging his head against the tabletop again.
‘You’re still a liar and a thief,’ Henderson said. ‘Maybe you wouldn’t have gone to the Gestapo, but you still tried sneaking off with my gold.’
‘What do you want me