The Tightrope Men / The Enemy. Desmond Bagley
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with it.’
‘Lyn has booked me in for the sauna this evening.’
‘So?’
‘She’s booked us both in.’
‘So?’ There was a pause before Carey chuckled. ‘My boy; I can see you have a wrong impression or an evil mind. This is not Hamburg nor is it the lower reaches of Soho; you’re in Helsinki and the Finns are a decent people. I think you’ll find there is one sauna for gentlemen and another for ladies.’
‘Oh!’ said Denison weakly. ‘It’s just that I don’t know much about it. One gets the wrong impression.’
‘Didn’t you read the books I gave you?’
‘I must have missed that one.’
‘In any case, there’s nothing wrong with a father joining his daughter in the sauna,’ said Carey judicially. ‘It may be done in your own home but not, I think, in an international hotel.’ He paused. ‘You’d better read up on it. Meyrick wouldn’t have forgotten the sauna – no Finn would.’
‘I’ll do that.’
‘Have fun,’ said Carey, and rang off.
Denison put down the telephone and rummaged in his suitcase where he found a slim book on the sauna written for the benefit of English-speaking visitors to Finland. On studying it he was relieved to find that the sauna appeared to be little more than a Turkish bath in essence – with differences.
He turned back the pages and read the introduction. There was, apparently, one sauna for every six Finns which, he reflected, was probably a greater incidence than bathrooms in Britain. A clean people, the Finns – mens sana in corpore sauna. Stones were heated by birch logs or, in modern times, by electric elements. Humidity was introduced by löyly – tossing water on the stones. The booklet managed to convey an air of mystic ritual about what was essentially a prosaic activity, and Denison came to the conclusion that the sauna was the Finnish equivalent of the Japanese tea ceremony.
At quarter to six Lyn rang him. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’ll meet you afterwards in the swimming pool. Have you got your trunks?’
Denison mentally ran down a checklist of Meyrick’s clothing. ‘Yes.’
‘At half past six, then.’ She rang off.
He went up to the top floor of the hotel, found the sauna for men, and went into the change room where he took his time, taking his cue from the others who were there. He stripped and went into the ante-chamber to the sauna where he showered and then took a square of towelling from a pile and went into the sauna itself.
It was hot.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man lay his towel on a slatted, wooden bench and sit on it, so he followed suit. The wood beneath his feet was almost unbearably hot and sweat was already beginning to start from his skin. A man left the sauna and another took a bucket of water and sluiced it along the wood on which his feet were resting. Tendrils of steam arose but his feet were cooler.
Another man left the sauna and Denison turned and found a thermometer on the wall by his head. It registered 115 degrees. Not too bad, he thought; I can stand that. Then he looked again and saw that the thermometer was calibrated in degrees Celsius. Christ Almighty! Water boils at 100°C.
He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and turned his head to find that there was just himself and another man left – a broad-shouldered, deep-chested man, shaggy with hair. The man picked up a wooden dipper and filled it with water from a bucket. He paused with it in his hand, and said interrogatively, ‘Löylyä?’
Denison answered with one of the few Finnish words he had picked up. ‘Kiitos.’
The man tossed the dipperful of water on to the square tub of hot stones in the corner. A blast of heat hit Denison like a physical blow and he gasped involuntarily. The man shot a sudden spate of Finnish at him, and Denison shook his head. ‘I’m sorry; I have no Finnish.’
‘Ah; first time in Finland?’
‘Yes,’ said Denison, and added, ‘since I was a boy.’
The man nodded. A sheen of sweat covered his hairy torso. He grinned. ‘First time in sauna?’
Sweat dripped from Denison’s nose. ‘For a long time – many years.’
The man nodded and rose. He picked up the dipper again and, turning away from Denison, he filled it from the bucket, Denison gritted his teeth. Anything a bloody Finn can stand, I can; he thought.
With a casual flick of the wrist the man tossed the water on to the hot stones, then quickly went out of the sauna, slamming the door behind him. Again the wave of heat hit Denison, rising to an almost intolerable level so that he gasped and spluttered. A bloody practical joker – baiting a beginner!
He felt his head swim and tried to stand up but found that his legs had gone rubbery beneath him. He rolled off the top bench and tried to crawl to the door and felt the hot wood burning his hands. Darkness closed in on him and the last thing he saw was his own hand groping for the door handle before he collapsed and passed out.
He did not see the door open, nor did he feel himself being lifted up and carried out.
He awoke to darkness.
For a long time he just lay there, unable to think because of the throbbing pain in his head. Then his head cleared a little and he stirred and knew he was lying on a bed. When he moved he heard a metallic clinking noise. He moved again and became aware that he was naked, and a recollection of the sauna came back.
His first thought was that he had collapsed of heat prostration and had been taken to his own room, but when he lifted his hand that theory disintegrated quickly. There was a tug on both wrists and he felt cold metal, and when he twisted his hands around he heard that clinking sound again and felt the handcuffs.
He lay quiet for a while before he levered himself up on one elbow to stare into the blackness, then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Tentatively he moved his feet apart; at least they were not manacled and he could walk. But walk where? He held his arms out before him and moved them sideways, first to the left and then to the right, until he encountered an object. It was flat with square edges and he concluded it was a bedside table. Exploring the top brought no joy; there was nothing on it.
Although his headache had eased he felt as weak as a kitten and he sat for a few moments to conserve his strength. Whether his weakness was a natural result of the heat of the sauna was debatable. He reasoned that if the sauna did that to everyone then it would not be so popular in Finland. Apart from that, he had no idea of how long he had been unconscious. He felt his skin and found it cool and with no moisture.
After a while he stood up with his arms out in front of him and began to shuffle forward. He had gone only a few feet when he stubbed his toe on something and the pain was agonizing. ‘Damn!’ he said viciously, and stepped back until he felt the bed behind his legs. He sat down and nursed his foot.
A sound came from the other side of the room and he saw a patch of greyness, quickly obscured and vanishing. A light suddenly stabbed at him and he blinked and screwed up his eyes against the sudden glare. A voice said in accented English, ‘So Dr Meyrick is awake – and up, too.’
Denison brought up his hands before his eyes. The voice said sharply, ‘Don’t move, Meyrick. Stay on the bed.’ Then, more coolly, ‘Do you know what this is?’
The lamp dipped a little so that he could see the vague outline of a man in back-reflected light. He saw the glint of metal in an out-thrust hand. ‘Well?’ said the