Angel of Darkness

by Christopher Nicole

  The two sailors stood above her, bent to lift her, and one said, ‘She’s awake!’

  ‘What? Holy Jesus Christ! Get ropes, quickly.’

  ‘You are nervous, comrade. She is only a woman.’

  ‘More than fifty of your comrades have made that mistake,’ he said, ‘and they are all dead. Fetch the ropes, quickly.’

  *

  ‘Anna, can you hear me?’ Hamilton stood above her, a pistol presented to her head.

  Anna just stared at him. She was completely enveloped in the blanket, with only one arm free; and in any event, at that moment she lacked the strength to move. So, patience! Indeed, she had long ago learned that nothing upsets an adversary so much and so quickly as an utter failure to respond. Besides, Clive was coming ever closer.

  ‘I think you can hear me,’ Hamilton said. ‘So listen. Attempt to move and I will blow your brains out.’

  Anna listened again, to the voices; not yet on board, she thought, but coming closer. And now the sailors were back, hurrying. A length of rope was wrapped round her, and round her blanket. One of them, nervously, held her arm and pushed it down. Then the rope was drawn tight and secured, leaving her helpless, even had she regained her strength. Having made sure she was immobile, Hamilton laid down the pistol and forced her jaws apart to insert a roll of cloth, and this was secured by a cord round her head.

  Still the voices drifted to her . . . Now Clive was definitely on board and, judging by the raised tones, was engaged in a dispute with the ship’s captain – Clive insisting that he intended to search the ship, and the captain equally insistent that he had no right to do so. But he was there, and he would not go away until he had found her. Surely.

  ‘Careful, now,’ Hamilton said. ‘She must not be harmed.’ He did not seem to be aware that he was contradicting himself. Then he looked around the cabin and, from a table against the bulkhead, collected her knickers and her gun belt – which, she saw, still contained her pistol and the spare magazine. What had happened to her torn gown and her purse, she had no idea.

  Next, the cabin door was opened and the two men carried her into a small lobby. There was a door on her right, and beyond this the voices were still shouting. On her left, a ladder went down. ‘You take her, Oscar,’ Hamilton commanded.

  She was set on her feet. Her knees gave way and she would have fallen, but the larger of the two sailors, presumably the one named Oscar, caught her and heaved her across his shoulder – like a sack of potatoes, she thought.

  ‘Mind she doesn’t bang her head,’ said Hamilton.

  Anna’s head bumped on the man’s back, while strands of golden hair drifted past her face; most of her hair had been caught in the enveloping rope, and bound against her back. Oscar’s left hand was gripping her thighs to hold her in place, the fingers biting through the blanket into her flesh, while his right hand grasped the rail. She could not raise her head without extreme discomfort, but she could see immediately below her. Hamilton was following.

  She was carried down to another deck and then down another ladder, and now the sound of the voices was lost in the increasing noise from below. The engines had not been shut down, but even idling in neutral they were loud; and grew louder still as they descended. A last landing, a last ladder, and they were actually in the world of machinery, with the noise now all around them. Here there were several men, their overalls stained with sweat, who stared at Oscar and his burden and then at Hamilton.

  ‘This the woman?’ asked one, who wore a battered peaked cap.

  ‘This is her, Chief,’ Hamilton said.

  ‘The bridge said we’ve stopped because of a police boat. Looking for her?’

  ‘That’s right. And they could be down here at any moment. They mustn’t find her.’

  The engineer nodded. ‘Stick her in the bilge.’

  ‘You sure? She mustn’t be harmed, or marked in any way. That’s an order from the top.’

  ‘She won’t be harmed. She may get a little wet. This way.’

  Anna was carried past various pieces of machinery, all rumbling away, to the aft end of the room, where the noise was loudest (this, she gathered, was due to the generator). The engineer signalled his men, and one of them produced a pair of earmuffs – similar to the ones she wore in her firing range – and fitted them into place. ‘We don’t want you going deaf,’ the engineer bellowed. ‘But it shouldn’t be for too long.’

  Two of his men unscrewed the steel plates that comprised the deck, revealing an odoriferous darkness, in which water slurped to and fro.

  ‘It’s only a couple of inches deep,’ the engineer shouted reassuringly.

  ‘But if you put those plates back, how is she going to breathe?’ Hamilton bawled.

  ‘There’s always a current of air down there,’ the engineer claimed. ‘The plates have to be in place, or those bastards may notice.’

  Anna was already holding her breath as two of the men inserted her, feet first. She anticipated being frozen all over again, but the water was surprisingly warm. She was laid on her back, and water surrounded her earmuffs. For the first time, she was assailed by panic. Clive was only a few feet away, but she couldn’t tell him where she was! She kept reminding herself that she had been in stickier positions than this and survived – by patiently accepting whatever happened to her, and waiting for her opportunity.

  Then the steel plates were clapped into place, and screwed down. She was in an utterly dark, very wet, and very noisy world; the generator seemed to be grinding away next to her ears. Then she heard another sound: feet clunking on the steel immediately above her. Clive! It had to be Clive. Immediately above her head, now. She had a desperate urge to scream and kick, but she could do nothing. The deck was only inches above her, but in her weakened condition even lifting her legs was an effort; and to raise them out of the water while wrapped in a waterlogged blanket, in such a confined space and with sufficient force to penetrate the steel, was quite impossible.

  The footsteps receded. The police were going. A few minutes later, the engine noise grew in volume as the ship got under way. After thirteen years, she thought, they have got me in the end.

  IN TRANSIT

  Although it seemed an eternity, it could only have been a few minutes later that the plates were unscrewed and a welcome gush of fresh air surrounded her. Carefully she was lifted out and laid on the deck, now aware of being very cold again. Hamilton and the engineer were peering at her and speaking, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying, although she could tell that Hamilton was very anxious.

  Then another face appeared, this one bearded and reassuringly friendly. He knelt beside her, rested two fingers on her neck for several seconds, then gave some instructions, at the same time untying the cord round her head and removing the cloth from her mouth. She gasped in relief, and he actually smiled.

  Oscar was waiting, and he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and climbed back up the ladders. Anna no longer cared about the manhandling she was receiving. She could breathe freely again, she could work her tongue, and she had the reassuring knowledge that she was in the hands of the ship’s doctor. More importantly, she was apparently not to be harmed, at least until they had got her to Moscow. As to whether she would be able to do anything about her situation before then, she would have to play it by ear, as she had had to do so often in the past.

  *

  Not that the immediate outlook was very promising. They regained the cabin, where she was placed on a waterproof sheet that had been laid on the bunk. To reach the cabin they had passed an open door, and she got a glimpse of sea and sky; the absence of any sight of land and the obviously increased speed of the ship told her that they were now out of the estuary and on the open sea.

  The cold February air flooding through the door made her shiver, which the doctor observed. ‘Quickly,’ he said, ‘get that blanket off. Tatiana, draw a hot bath. She must be warmed up.’ As she could hear him, she realized that her earmuffs had been removed.


  Oscar fumbled at the ropes, watched by Hamilton. ‘There is no need for you to stay, comrades,’ the doctor said.

  ‘I have to stay,’ Hamilton said.

  The doctor snorted. ‘So that you can play the voyeur?’

  ‘It is my duty to deliver the countess, personally, to Commissar Beria. Besides, you may need my protection.’

  ‘From a barely conscious half-frozen woman?’

  The rope was pulled away, and he was about to unfold the blanket.

  ‘Wait!’ Hamilton said. ‘I do not think you know who this woman is.’

  ‘I know what I have been told.’ But he hesitated. ‘That she is, or was, a German countess, who ranked highly in the Nazi Party and is a wanted war criminal.’

  ‘She is the Countess von Widerstand, Himmler’s private assassin. Were you to be alone with her, she could destroy you in a matter of seconds.’

  ‘With her bare hands? This woman?’

  ‘This woman, with her bare hands. I have seen her do it.’

  The doctor looked at him, then bent over Anna, staring at her. Anna stared back. ‘I am not sure that she is fully conscious, or has any idea where she is.’

  ‘Dr Strassky, take my word for it, she is fully conscious and she knows where she is.’ There was a click, followed by another. The two other men in the room had drawn automatic pistols, and Hamilton pressed his to Anna’s temple as he bent over her in turn. ‘You can stop playing games now, Anna. We know too much about you. Now listen to me. There is a hot bath waiting for you, which you will no doubt enjoy. But remember that we will be present at all times, with our guns pointed at you. I know that you have heard what we have been saying, and noted that we are to deliver you to Commissar Beria unharmed. However, there is a supplementary order of which you are probably unaware. It is that if there is the slightest risk of your escaping, Commissar Beria is prepared to forego the pleasure of watching you die himself and wishes you shot dead. Please remember this.’

  Anna stared at him.

  ‘It is my professional opinion,’ Dr Strassky said, ‘that at this moment the woman is not compos mentis. She is clearly in a state of shock.’

  ‘You may do your duty, doctor, as you see fit. Kindly allow me to do mine.’

  ‘It is very irregular,’ Strassky grumbled. ‘And improper. However . . .’

  ‘The bath is ready, Comrade Doctor,’ the woman Tatiana said, coming closer to stare at Anna. Anna stared back, and recalled her face. The woman from the airport! They had been on to her from the moment of her arrival.

  ‘Very good.’ Carefully, as if she was a piece of priceless porcelain, Strassky unwrapped the sodden blanket. And caught his breath.

  ‘Yes,’ Hamilton agreed, ‘she is a goddess. But a goddess of death.’ He still found it difficult to believe that he had once held her naked in his arms.

  Strassky cleared his throat. ‘Countess,’ he said, as if he were addressing a small child, ‘you are very chilled. And your blood pressure is down, I suppose because of the drug you were given. It is very necessary for you to be kept warm and dry for the next few days, or you may catch pneumonia. The first step must be to restore your bodily functions as rapidly as possible, which can best be accomplished by a hot bath. This is now waiting for you. Do you understand me?’

  Anna continued to stare at him while she considered. But she knew he was right. Apart from the fact that she was shivering with cold, she had absolutely no chance of getting out of this mess if she became ill with pneumonia. She sat up, and a rustle went round the room. Then she swung her legs to the deck and eased herself off the bunk. There was another rustle, and Hamilton and his two aides all levelled their pistols.

  She stood up, and staggered from a combination of her own weakness and the motion of the ship. Strassky made to catch her, and she stared at him. Hastily he stepped back, and she moved, uncertainly, towards the inner doorway. Here the red-headed woman had positioned herself, but she also hastily stepped back as Anna came up to her.

  ‘You have tested the water?’ Strassky asked, anxiously. ‘She must not be scalded.’

  ‘The temperature is acceptable, Comrade Doctor,’ Tatiana protested.

  Anna gained the tub, held on to the rim, stepped into the bath, and turned to lower herself, one hand on each rim. But her arms gave way, so that she sat down with an enormous splash, scattering water everywhere. Everyone exclaimed, Tatiana – who was nearest – giving a shriek as she was soaked. But Anna ignored them, as she leaned back, closing her eyes, and allowed the delicious heat to seep through her flesh.

  ‘Do you think she should be soaped, Comrade Doctor?’ Tatiana asked.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, that bilge water was not very clean, and there are scratches on her body . . .’

  ‘I noticed those,’ Strassky agreed. ‘Do you have any idea where she got them?’

  ‘The hotel staff said something about her being involved in an accident before she returned last night,’ Hamilton said. ‘Do you think they should be attended to?’

  ‘I will do that, as soon as she has had her bath.’

  ‘Then definitely she should be soaped. And her hair must be washed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it too is filthy with bilge water, and it is such lovely hair.’

  ‘I think, Comrade Terpolov, that you are too fond of this woman.’

  ‘Terpolov,’ Anna thought. Well, well.

  ‘It is my duty,’ Hamilton said, ‘to present this woman to Commissar Beria in perfect condition, if it is at all possible. This I intend to do. Soap the countess, Tatiana. And wash her hair.’ He knelt beside the tub, and put the muzzle of his pistol to her ear. ‘Do not forget, Anna,’ he said, ‘there are three pistols pointed at you. And if necessary, Tatiana is expendable.’

  Anna opened her eyes and he flushed. Then she turned her head to look at Tatiana, also kneeling, a cake of soap in her hands. She closed her eyes again and leaned back.

  *

  Fair Girl nosed alongside the dock, and Tommy gave a short burst astern to check her, then slid down the ladder to step ashore with the stern warp and make it fast, before returning to attend to the bow. ‘You go on up to the house, Mr Bartley,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring your gear.’

  ‘Thank you, Tommy.’ Clive stepped ashore. He had changed his shoes alongside in Nassau, and as he was no sailor had left the handling of the boat entirely to Tommy, who watched him walk up the path with sombre eyes.

  There was nothing unusual in Mr Bartley arriving by himself. He and Miss Anna never travelled together save when going to Nassau or Miami for the weekend, and on those occasions they never took him. But he had never known Mr Bartley in such a mood. Always in the past he had been unfailingly good-humoured; and the more so when returning to the cay from one of his business trips abroad. Today he had neither smiled nor spoken throughout the three-hour journey, and he had three suitcases instead of just the usual valise.

  And as Tommy watched the two dogs come bounding down the path to greet them, to his amazement he saw that, instead of giving their heads the usual ruffle, Mr Bartley dropped to his knees to hug them both for several seconds, while they licked his face in appreciation of this unusual affection.

  Something was wrong. He could only hope that it wasn’t a case of Mr Bartley and Miss Anna falling out.

  *

  Clive continued his walk up the hill to the house, where Jane waited on the veranda. ‘Clive!’ She embraced him. ‘Welcome home. I’m afraid Anna isn’t here.’

  ‘I know.’

  He held her hand as they entered the lounge, while she frowned, surprised both by his demeanour and his apparent pre-knowledge of Anna’s movements.

  ‘Clive!’ Johann shook hands. ‘Good trip?’

  ‘I think we should all sit down,’ Clive said.

  ‘But you’ll take a glass of champagne? It’s open.’

  ‘Later, perhaps.’ Clive sat on the settee, Jane beside him. Now also frowning, Johann sat opposite.r />
  ‘Something’s happened,’ Jane said.

  ‘I’m afraid it has.’

  ‘Oh, my God! Anna?’

  He sighed. ‘Did you know where she was going on this trip?’

  ‘She never tells us, and we never ask.’

  ‘But it was a big one,’ Johann said. ‘There’s a cheque for a hundred thousand dollars in her desk, which we are to deposit if she’s not back by the fourth of March. That’s in three days’ time.’

  ‘A hundred thousand,’ Clive said quietly. ‘As you say, Johann, a big one.’

  ‘And the very last,’ Jane said. ‘Andrews has agreed to that.’

  ‘Yes.’ Clive nodded.

  ‘You mean you knew about it?’

  ‘Had I known of it, Jane, I would not have allowed it to happen. But I have found out about it, too late. It involved returning to England, and carrying out an assignment there.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘Yes. Anna is not allowed into England, much less to do a job there.’

  ‘And you think she’s been caught? By the police?’ Johann asked. ‘What will happen to her? I mean did she complete the job?’

  ‘Anna always completes her job. Which makes her, in the eyes of English law, guilty of murder.’

  Jane clasped both hands round her neck.

  ‘Yes,’ Clive agreed. ‘However, if she was in the hands of Scotland Yard, there would still be a possibility that we could negotiate some kind of a deal, in view of her past services. Unfortunately, she has disappeared.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Jane cried.

  ‘But she has not returned here,’ Johann pointed out.

  ‘She’s obviously lying low, until it’s safe to return. That’s why . . .’ She bit her lip.

  ‘Why what?’ Clive asked.

  ‘A week ago.’ Johann said, ‘we had a call, from Nassau, from a man named Smitten. He described himself as a colleague’s of Anna.’ He paused at Clive’s expression. ‘Do you know this man?’