Traitors' Gate gs-7

by Dennis Wheatley

  Pipi and Mario had a fire hose trained on Grauber's people. Aided by a footman and other servants who had come hurrying out in response to Sabine's cries, they had run out the hose, fixed it to the hydrant in the courtyard and were now using it as police do to break up crowds of rioters. Aimed for the centre of the group, the first smashing jet had struck Gregory; but as soon as the two men holding the nozzle of the hose had found its range they had directed it at the heads or legs of his attackers. Knocked headlong or swept off their feet they fell this way and that in the roadway. Bruised, drenched and blaspheming, as soon as they could they crawled for shelter behind their half swamped car.

  Rallying his remaining strength, Gregory came at a lurching run under the arch into the courtyard. Sabine caught him before he fell and supported him, gasping and near exhaustion, to the steps of the porter's lodge. Meanwhile the porter had picked himself up and, cursing like a trooper, had also staggered inside. Mario called to the footman to take his place helping to hold the nozzle of the hose, then sprinted out to the Mercedes. Jumping into the driver's seat, he ran her forward a few feet then backed her into the yard. The moment he had done so, the hose was turned off and a dozen willing hands swung to the big wooden doors that closed the archway.

  Five minutes later Gregory sat slumped in an armchair in the hall of the Palace. With Pipi's help Sabine had brought him there; and after telling him that she would be back in a few minutes, they had both left him. He was still a little bemused and felt one big ache all over; but he had been in such scraps often enough to know that he had not sustained any serious injury. For the moment there was nothing he could do, except thank his gods that the attempt to kidnap him had failed, and he was quite content to sit there while his pains gradually localized themselves.

  When Sabine returned she was carrying a tray with hot water, bandages and bottles. As she set it down he muttered with a grin, 'This is history repeating itself. I hope it's not going to become a habit for me to get beaten up and you to play ministering angel every night.'

  She smiled back a little wryly. 'If we are here for you to be beaten up tomorrow night, I'm afraid it will mean the end of both of us. But let's not talk about that for a moment. Do you think any of your bones are broken?'

  'No, thank God. My left forearm is very badly bruised though. It got the full force of a blow from that blond brute's rubber truncheon. I think I'd better have it in a sling. I'm afraid my face is a bit of a mess. I've a nasty kick on the shin, and another on the thigh, and I've wrenched my little finger. Otherwise I'm all right.'

  'We'll have to undress you to see the bruises; so to start with I'll just clean up your face. That's a horrid cut on your lip, and you're going to have a whale of a black eye.'

  The antiseptic stung but the eau de Cologne with which she bathed his temples freshened him up a lot. Halfway through he asked her for a Baratsch. She brought him one from the tray of drinks that always stood in the hall. After he had swallowed a few gulps and she had completed her ministrations he felt considerably better.

  Having helped herself to a brandy and soda, she said, 'I've thanked all the servants for their help, and they have gone back to their quarters; except for Pipi, Magda and Mario, who are waiting to hear what we mean to do now. But I must confess I haven't an idea how we are to get out of the trap we're in.'

  'How about Admiral Horthy?' Gregory enquired. 'I gather Ribbentrop implied that he had secured the Regent's protection for you until he had to give way to pressure from Berlin. It might be worth telephoning to ask him to give you a police escort to see you clear of the city.'

  She shook her head. 'There are several things against that. In the first place you can bet that via Grauber and his Chief of Police he knows all about us by now. To keep in with Ribb he promised to give me twenty-four hours to get across the frontier and to stop an immediate hue and cry after you. But he must be aware that Grauber will have telephoned to Himmler, and that by tomorrow morning at the latest he'll get a formal demand for our arrest; so the last thing he'll do is to compromise himself further by giving us his active help to get away.'

  'I wasn't talking about us, but about you.'

  'You implied that in what you said, and it is my second point. Even if he were willing to give official protection to a woman who is accused of sheltering a British Agent, he certainly would not tell his police to let her take with her out of the country a man whom the Gestapo are after. And we are in this thing together.'

  Gregory leaned forward and took her hand. 'Darling, I beg you to be sensible. God knows, I've got you into enough trouble already! If there is any chance at all of your getting out on your own you must take it.'

  'There is no chance of the Regent's providing me with an escort. I am convinced of that. And if there were I still wouldn't go without you; so please put that idea right out of your mind. Finally, even if I wanted to telephone the Regent I couldn't. The 'phone has been cut off.'

  'Has it? When?'

  'I imagine it was done to prevent us trying to get help, as soon as the attempt to kidnap you had started. Directly Pipi joined me in the courtyard and saw what was happening he ran in again to telephone the police. But the line was dead, and it still is.'

  'Then there is no hope now of getting help of any kind from outside. Not that we could have got it anyhow, except by involving our friends. Still, we might have asked someone to hire or provide a car to meet us somewhere.'

  'How would we have got to it?'

  'By going out over the roofs and coming down through one of the other houses further up the street.'

  'That would mean leaving our luggage behind.'

  'I know. But I'm afraid it is the only chance of getting out left to us now. Even that may be closed if they have enough men to cordon off the whole block. But I didn't see any Arrow Cross boys about. If Mario went ahead of us, dressed again in his uniform, anyone keeping watch would now take him for me. By acting as a red herring he could clear the coast for a few minutes, then, unless they are very thick on the ground, we'd be able to slip through.'

  Sabine was naturally most loath to leave all her clothes behind; but she agreed that it must be done, and Gregory cheered her a little by a suggestion which might enable her to secure them later. As the railway stations would be watched by Grauber's people their only means of reaching the frontier safely would be in a hired car; but there should be nothing to stop Pipi sending off the baggage by train in the morning, and they should have no difficulty in collecting it at Zagreb, as it would reach there before they did.

  While they finished their drinks they discussed this new plan, and the dozen or so palaces that formed the block. At this time of year nearly all the families that lived in them during the winter would still be in the country; so the only inmates they were likely to encounter on coming down from a skylight were a porter or old servants who had been left in charge, and by leaving their illicit entry until after midnight the odds were that all of them would be sound asleep. In any case, it seemed wise to postpone this new attempt to get away until the early hours of the morning as by then, after a long and fruitless vigil, Grauber's men would no longer be so fully alert.

  They eventually decided that, if Mario were willing to act as a decoy, he should go out through a palace three doors away down the hill which at present was empty and up for sale. If he was able to walk off unmolested, well and good; if he was spotted, it would draw the enemy off in that direction. Having given him a few minutes' start, the others would come out from a mansion near the top end of the row which was owned by an old Countess whose porter knew Sabine by sight; so he would not take them for burglars should they encounter him.

  Five o'clock was fixed as the time for their attempt, as that would impose a whole night of growing weariness upon the waiting enemy, yet still leave an hour of darkness. It had two other advantages; they would not have to wait about for very long before a garage opened at which they could hire a car and, as it was still only a little after nine o'clock, th
ey would get a good six hours in bed to store up new energy before again putting their fortune to a desperate hazard.

  The three faithful servants were called in and the plan discussed with them. Mario agreed that the worst that was likely to happen to him if he was caught was that the Germans might give him a beating, and declared himself ready to take that risk. Magda then volunteered to aid the deception by accompanying him in some of her mistress's clothes; but her offer was gratefully declined because it was felt that if Mario was chased he would be able to run farther without her before being caught, and so maintain for longer the illusion that he was Gregory. They thought it most unlikely that the enemy would actually break into the palace, but Pipi announced his intention of staying up all night to keep watch. He said that he would call Magda in ample time to cook a good hot breakfast for them; and, later in the morning, take the luggage to the railway station.

  Everything having been settled they all went upstairs to look out of the top windows and see what dispositions had been taken up by the enemy. The street in the front of the house now appeared to be deserted, but the gateway and the arch cut off from their view the nearer section of it; so it was probable that at least one watcher was lurking there, probably in the telephone kiosk. Down in the lower road behind the house a small car was standing stationary with its engine switched off. As there appeared to be no reason for its remaining there, they decided that it almost certainly contained one or more of Grauber's people; but the really comforting thing was there were no signs at all to suggest that the whole row of palaces had been cordoned off.

  Pipi accompanied Gregory to his room, helped him to undress, ran a hot bath, then collected the chauffeur's uniform and said, 'Mario will need this to put on directly he gets up. I will look out some other clothes suitable for the Heir Commandant to dress in tomorrow when I call him.'

  Gregory thanked him for all he had done, then got into the bath and for twenty minutes eased his bruised limbs in the warm water. He was still drying himself when he heard Sabine, who had said she would come up to see to his hurts, enter the bedroom. She anointed his bruises, made a sling for his left arm, tucked him up in bed, then lightly kissed him good night and left him.

  He put out the light at once, and lay for a little while staring up into the darkness, wondering far from happily where he would be at that hour the following night. If his luck held he should be well over the frontier into Yugoslavia; if not, he might be in hiding or, far worse, a prisoner. The previous night he had hardly slept at all, and during the past twenty-four hours he had been through a great deal; so he was very, very tired. Despite his anxieties, within ten minutes he was sound asleep, his last conscious thought having been that at least he would have six hours in a comfortable bed before he was called on to face new dangers.

  In that he was wrong. Shortly after midnight Pipi burst into his room shouting, 'Wake up, Herr Commandant Wake up! The palace is on fire! Those devils are throwing fire bombs through the downstairs windows!'

  Trapped

  Chapter 17

  One of the assets that Gregory had found most valuable in his dangerous work was his ability when woken suddenly to be almost instantly conscious of all the circumstances in which he had fallen asleep. In the present instance, before Pipi had finished shouting at him he had flung back the bedclothes and was tumbling out of bed.

  'Fire bombs!' he echoed. 'Where? Have they broken through the gate into the courtyard?'

  'No,' Pipi panted. 'They are at the back. They have thrown the bombs over the terrace into the big salon. I smelt smoke and found it coming from under the doorway. The room was full of it. I could see nothing; but while I was there another grenade crashed through the window and bounced along the floor. I slammed the door to and dashed upstairs.'

  'Have you woken your mistress?'

  'Yes, Herr Commandant. I went to her first.'

  'Good. Rouse the rest of the household, then get the fire hose going again. I'll be down as soon as I can get some clothes on.'

  As Pipi ran from the room Gregory looked quickly about him. Mario's uniform had been taken away by Pipi and, owing to this unforeseen emergency, he had not brought up the suit which was to replace it. All the Baron's clothes that were useable had been packed the previous evening; they were still in the suitcase that had been brought in from the car and left down in the vestibule. Pulling open the wardrobe, Gregory looked inside. All that was left there were a fur trimmed Hussar's jacket, a silk dressing gown, a carnival domino and a Chinese mandarin robe. Suddenly he remembered his own dinner jacket suit. At the time of Ribbentrop's visit, fearing the house might be searched, he had hidden it in the unlit stove.

  Hurrying into his underclothes, he pulled the suit from its hiding place. The hair oil had congealed into hideous stains on the satin lapels of the jacket, and it was crumpled to a rag; but that was of no importance at the moment. Within three minutes of Pipi's rousing him he was dressed, had snatched up his wallet and pistol, and was taking the stairs two at a time down to the next floor. Turning left along the broad corridor he ran into Sabine's room.

  Unlike Gregory, when in a deep sleep she was difficult to wake. The light was on and she was sitting up in bed with her head lolling against its padded satin backboard. Evidently Pipi's reason for waking her had not penetrated to her brain, and immediately he had run from the room she had dropped off again.

  With her dark hair framing her pale face, slim arms and one small firm breast exposed owing to the ribbon of her nightdress having slipped from her shoulder, she still looked a girl scarcely out of her teens. Her long black lashes made fans on her cheeks and her lips were a little parted. The sight of her, even in that hour of fresh peril, made Gregory catch his breath. Instead of calling to her, on a swift impulse he stooped and rewoke her with a kiss on the mouth.

  Her eyes flickered open. 'Oh, darling!' she sighed, and threw her arms round his neck.

  Gently but swiftly he broke her hold, and said in a low urgent voice, 'My sweet, we're in trouble again. You must get up at once. That swine Grauber has set his thugs to burn down the house. Quick now!'

  As he spoke he pulled back the bedclothes. She gave a little shudder; then doubled up her fists and, like a child, began to rub the sleep from her eyes as she muttered, 'Oh, hell! Aren't we ever to have any peace?'

  'Come along!' He took one of her arms and gave her a little shake. 'I tell you the house is on fire. For God's sake start getting yourself dressed.'

  Swinging her long legs over the side of the bed, she got to her feet. Magda had left her underclothes laid out all ready for her on a nearby chair. She was fully awake now. Running to it she started to pull on her stockings.

  Gregory left her and walked swiftly towards the windows. Both of them were French and led out on to the balcony. One was a little open, and he could now smell smoke coming from it. Opening it wide he stepped out on to the balcony. The moon was up, silvering the spires of the Parliament House across the river, and making the scene almost as bright as day.

  As Pipi had said, Grauber's people were attacking the back of the palace. Seventy or eighty feet below, down in the road, near the small car that had been parked there earlier, there was now a big wagon. Grouped about it there were a score or more of figures, and Gregory grimly took in the fact that most of them were in the uniform of the Arrow Cross. Then, after the first quick glance, his attention concentrated on the immediate foreground just below him. Two men had come up the steps cut in the steep slope. They were standing just beyond the Iron Gate, and could easily have forced it, but for some reason they had apparently decided not to break through on to the terrace. One was kneeling beside a square box and evidently fusing the grenades. The other had just taken one from him, and as Gregory watched, pitched it through a ground floor window.

  Stepping back into the room, Gregory grabbed the first piece of furniture to hand. It happened to be the stool in front of Sabine's dressing table. Running out on to the balcony again he lifted it high
above his head and hurled it down at the two men. Both ducked but one of its legs caught the kneeling man a glancing blow on the head and he toppled backwards. The other was holding another bomb ready to throw. He lobbed it up at Gregory. The bomb missed his head by inches, sailed over his shoulder through the open window, and fell with a dull thud in the room.

  Swinging round, he ran towards it, hoping to snatch it up and throw it out again before it could explode. It was not a grenade, but a cylindrical tin canister from one end of which sparks were sizzling. As he dived to grab it, there came a loud 'phut' and from the place where the sparks had been there shot out a jet of thick oily smoke. It was pointing towards him, so the smoke fountained up right into his face. Blinded and choking he staggered back, while Sabine let out a scream and ran to him, fearing that he had been seriously injured.

  It was a good minute before he could get his breath and his eyes had ceased to water sufficiently to see again. Meanwhile the bomb had been vomiting forth its pitch and sulphur in a steady stream. For several feet around it there billowed a cloud of such denseness that it was no longer even possible to guess where it lay, and to have dived into the smoke again would have been to invite asphyxiation.

  As they backed away still further a second bomb hurtled through the window and rolled under the bed. Gregory dropped to his hands and knees and strove to reach it. But again he was a few seconds too late. Before his groping hand could hit upon it the fuse ignited its contents. A moment later clouds of noisome smoke were coiling up in great spirals from under both sides of the bed and from behind its headboard.

  By now the far end of the room was totally obscured. The electric light over the dressing table showed as no more than a faint blur in a pea soup fog. In the centre of the room the smoke billowing out from under the bed hid all but its foot and, fearing that they would be cut off from the door, Gregory pushed Sabine round it. When rushing into the room he had left the door a little open; so a gentle draught from the window was causing the smoke to swirl and eddy inwards after them. With incredible swiftness wisps and fingers of it reached out from the two black central masses, while others now struck downwards from clouds of it that had hit and rolled along the ceiling. The eyes of both of them were smarting, their nostrils teasing and their throats full of acrid fumes. Sabine had had time to put on only her stockings, elastic belt, brassiere and shoes; but it was impossible to remain there longer and Gregory thrust her towards the door.