As they came around the last curve of the spiral staircase, they almost went headlong into the figure of another man, who was standing at the foot of the staircase. Bewildered by the noise from the upstairs room, he had obviously been uncertain what to do, and in the weak light of the corridor he did not at first recognize Quint and Adam as intruders.
‘Was ist los?’ he asked.
The realization that these men were not his colleagues dawned almost immediately, but it was too late. Adam launched himself at the man and, with a solid punch to the jaw, knocked him to the floor. He jumped over the fallen German, but Quint paused and reversed his grip on the rifle with surprising speed. Holding it by the barrel, he attempted to strike the German with the weapon’s butt. The man, although still half dazed from Adam’s punch, was alert enough to roll away but such was the intended force of Quint’s blow that the rifle’s wooden butt splintered away from the breech as it connected with the floor. The manservant uttered a brief curse, threw the weapon away and followed his master to the door that led outside.
The cool night air welcomed them a moment or two later, and they moved rapidly away from the fairytale tower of the Schloss.
‘Back to the boat,’ Adam said, panting from the exertion of their helter-skelter exit.
‘Where the ’ell is it?’ Quint asked, equally out of breath.
They both gazed into the night, straining their eyes to work out where they should go. Angry shouting could be heard behind them.
‘Over here,’ Adam said. ‘It must be in this direction.’
They set off at a slow jog-trot, eager to put distance between themselves and Ravelstein’s men and yet anxious not to trip or lose their way. A narrow path opened to their right and Adam thought he could see the glint of the river at its end. He turned onto it and beckoned Quint to follow him. He was right. It was the Havel ahead of them. As they reached the water’s edge, Adam stopped and turned. He peered into the darkness, looking back at the Schloss.
‘Come on, guv.’ Quint tugged at his master’s sleeve. ‘You ain’t got time to be standing there, staring like a throttled cat. We’ve got to get off this bleedin’ island.’
From the path came the sounds of Ravelstein’s men shouting to one another.
‘What about Harry Vernon?’
‘If that was ’im on the floor in the tower, then ’e’s dead. Ain’t no ’elping him now. We’ve got to ’elp ourselves.’
The crash of a body through vegetation indicated that at least one of the Germans had left the path and was making his way towards them. Adam and Quint moved as swiftly as they could along the tangled shoreline.
‘Where is that damned jetty?’ Adam hissed. The night enveloped them and the only light came from the moon, as it emerged intermittently from behind drifting clouds. As he spoke, it did so briefly and shone upon the water to their right. ‘This way,’ Adam said. ‘We must follow the river’s edge.’
They blundered on. The half-moon disappeared behind the clouds and they were plunged once more into darkness. They could still hear the sounds of the men following them, and it seemed they were coming closer.
‘I reckon we’ve missed it,’ Quint whispered. ‘It’s as black as the Duke of ’Ell’s riding boots when that moon ain’t out.’
His servant’s words merely confirmed what Adam had already suspected. Somehow, in the dark, and with Ravelstein’s men in pursuit of them, they had blundered past the jetty where their boat was tied. Thick vegetation had also driven them inland and they had lost sight of the water. They were now making their way ever further northward on the island.
‘Mebbe we should turn back,’ Quint suggested.
‘We cannot do so,’ Adam said. ‘We shall merely run into the arms of our pursuers.’
As if in confirmation of his remark, the sounds of two men calling to one another in German could be heard on the path behind them.
‘We must go this way,’ Adam whispered, pointing ahead. The two men set off again. Several hundred yards to their south, their boat swung quietly at its mooring.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘Hark, Quint.’ Adam pointed to his left. ‘The voices are coming from that direction.’
‘We’d best go in this ’un, then,’ the manservant said, beginning to move off in the opposite direction.
Adam reached out a hand to stop him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We are only travelling further and further away from the boat. And the boat is our only way off this wretched island. We must turn back.’
‘Right into the path of them Prusskies.’
‘It is dark. We can avoid them.’
‘I thought you said we couldn’t turn back.’
‘I have changed my mind. We have no other option.’
There was a sudden, unearthly scream from the darkness ahead of them. Adam felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
‘What the bleedin’ ’ell was that?’ Quint asked, his voice trembling slightly.
The eerie screech, like a banshee keening for a death foretold, was repeated. Adam released his breath in a sigh of relief as he realized what the terrible sound was. ‘Pfaueninsel,’ he said. ‘Peacock Island. The noise is a peacock.’
‘That’s a bleedin’ bird?’ Quint was disbelieving. ‘I thought it was a cove getting ’is pills cut off.’
‘Come, perhaps those terrible peacock cries will distract our pursuers. We will head back towards the boat.’
The two men turned and now moved warily along the path they had just traversed. Behind them the peacock, disturbed by their presence, was emitting its appalling shriek at regular intervals. Meanwhile, the moon had once again emerged from behind the clouds and was shedding light on the water of the Havel to their left.
Minutes passed, and Adam suddenly realized that he was alone. Turning to find out what had happened to Quint, he looked back along the path. The man had disappeared. Adam peered into the semi-darkness but there was no sign of his servant. He was about to call out as quietly as he could when he heard a rustling behind him. He swung round to find that a dark figure was standing in the path about a dozen yards ahead of him. He could not make out who it was. He took a step or two nearer. ‘Is that you, Quint?’ he hissed.
‘Wer ist da?’ the figure asked. ‘Hans?’
Adam began immediately to retreat. The shape in front of him started to raise what looked like an arm holding a gun but, just then, another figure suddenly emerged from the shadows by the side of the path and struck the German behind the head with a length of wood. The man crumpled to the ground without a sound.
‘That was a bit of a near go,’ Quint said quietly, throwing the branch he was holding to the ground. ‘I reckon that cove ’ad you in his sights.’
‘Where the devil have you been?’ hissed Adam, more relieved than he cared to admit at the sight of his manservant.
‘Got something stuck to my boot, didn’t I? Stopped to see what was wrong and saw the Prussky ahead of you. So I sneaked round and come up behind ’im. Just as well I did.’ Quint prodded the fallen man with his foot. ‘I’ve given ’im one hell of a wallop. ’E’ll be as good as dead for hours.’
Adam approached and stared down at Quint’s victim. ‘Yes, but he has companions,’ he said. ‘He thought I was one of them. They must be close.’
The two men looked about them but there was no sign of anyone nearby. Judging by the sound of voices calling out, the Germans who had been following them had moved inland a little. In the distance the peacock continued to screech.
‘Ravelstein’s men must have lost the path but they will find us before too long,’ Adam said. ‘Let us go this way.’ He pointed to his left and, deserting the rough track, headed off into the long grass. Quint followed him. Within little more than a minute they had reached the edge of Pfaueninsel and
were peering down a muddy incline to the river.
‘We shall have to swim for it,’ Adam said. ‘It is not far to the opposite bank at this point. No more than a couple of hundred yards. Then we can disappear into the woods opposite.’
‘I ain’t getting in there,’ Quint replied.
Adam looked at his servant, whose face was chalk-white in the moonlight. ‘We have little choice in the matter.’ His master spoke quietly but urgently. ‘There is no sign of the boat. It is beginning to look like a midnight dip or throw ourselves on Ravelstein’s mercy. And that, I suspect, is not a quality the count possesses in abundance.’
‘I ain’t getting’ in that bleedin’ water, I tell you.’ Quint had begun to step back from the bank, slowly shaking his head from side to side to emphasize his unwillingness to do what had been suggested.
‘For God’s sake, Quint, this is our best chance of getting off this wretched island!’
The manservant continued to shake his head and back away. ‘I ain’t doing it,’ he hissed.
‘Why on earth not?’ Adam hissed back.
‘I just ain’t.’
There was silence as Adam gazed at his servant and Quint stared truculently back at him.
‘You cannot swim, can you?’ the young man said after a few moments.
‘Well, there ain’t much call for it in the smoke, is there? ’Oo needs to doggy-paddle up the bleedin’ Thames? There’s boats everywhere.’
‘You could very nearly wade across at this point.’
‘I ain’t getting in that water.’
Adam sighed in exasperation. He was about to embark on further discussion when there was shouting in the direction from which they had come. ‘They have found the man you struck down,’ he said. ‘There is no time for argument. We will have to continue to make our way as best we can towards the jetty. It must be this way.’
Half crouching, the two men hugged the shore of the small island as they continued westwards. This time they were in luck: after a few minutes, they were in sight of the place where they had tied up the boat. They stopped and squatted on their haunches behind a small thorn bush.
‘Can you see anyone at the jetty, Quint?’ Adam asked in a whisper. The moon had been behind cloud for some time.
‘Dark as a coal ’ole,’ his manservant muttered. ‘I can’t even see the bleedin’ river.’
Adam rose to his feet just as the moon emerged again and silhouetted two men standing, like soldiers to attention, by the small wooden pier. Adam quickly settled on his haunches again. He nudged his servant in the ribs and pointed towards the boat. Quint nodded to indicate that he had seen the men standing guard. Thirty seconds passed and Adam again risked rising a little to see more clearly what was happening. He ducked down swiftly as one of the men appeared to turn in his direction.
‘If you goes on bobbing up and down like a sparrer in a mud puddle,’ Quint hissed, ‘one of those Prusskies is bound to see us.’
Adam crouched further down behind the bush but continued to watch the two men as best he could. One now looked to be pulling at the rope that tied their boat to the wooden post at the jetty’s end; the other, standing nearer the bank, was leaning forward and peering into the semi-darkness that surrounded them.
‘Well, if you got any good ideas,’ Quint added after a while, ‘now’d be a good time to let me know what they are.’
Adam made no reply but continued to peer at Ravelstein’s two men. The one who had been tugging at the boat’s painter had now moved to join his companion. They stood at the point where the wooden planking of the jetty joined the island and gazed inland, speaking in low voices. The taller of the two men lifted his arm and gestured in the direction of the Schloss. He seemed to think that he had seen something to which he needed to draw his colleague’s attention.
Hunching over again, Adam began to make his way towards the jetty, keeping an eye on the two Germans. Quint followed him. The men at the jetty continued to stare towards the castle. It was evident that they had no idea anyone was in the vicinity. The taller man, still waving his arm, made another remark to his companion. The two Englishmen had now reached a point about twenty yards from the jetty.
Adam leaned to his right to whisper into his servant’s ear. ‘I will strike the man on the left,’ he said, indicating his target. ‘When I make a move, you must simultaneously disarm the other man, or all is lost.’
Quint nodded and the pair, still stooping low, moved forward another ten paces. There was no indication that their presence had been detected. Adam signalled to his servant.
At a run, they emerged from the darkness and barrelled into the two men guarding the boat. Both were immediately knocked off their feet. The one on the left let out a half-cry as he fell, which Adam, tumbling on top of him, immediately stifled by thrusting his hand over the man’s mouth. Taken completely by surprise, the German nonetheless continued to struggle. Even as he strove to overpower his opponent, Adam was aware of the noises of a similar tussle coming from his right where Quint had hurtled into the other German.
The man Adam had attacked, although winded by the initial assault, was proving a stubborn adversary. He was also exceptionally strong, and he succeeded in freeing one arm from beneath Adam’s body, using it to lever the young Englishman off him. Adam was pushed backwards and eventually thrown sideways into the mud and grass by the river’s edge. The German leapt to his feet and fell upon him. It was all Adam could do to reach out a hand and grab the man by the throat.
The German was now on the attack himself. While holding Adam down with the weight of his body, he was fighting to pull something from his pocket. The young Englishman was certain that it was a weapon. He let go of the German’s throat and struggled desperately to seize the hand that was reaching into the pocket. Suddenly, as Adam fought to keep his opponent at bay, he felt the man’s body go limp in his grasp. He slumped to one side and Adam was able to disentangle himself from his adversary and rise unsteadily to his feet. He turned to find Quint standing close by, nursing his right fist.
‘I give ’im a nobbler on the ’ead,’ the manservant explained, miming a downward blow to the man’s skull. ‘That’s the third time I’ve saved your bacon tonight.’
‘Thank you,’ his master said, struggling to regain his breath. He nodded in the direction of the man Quint had attacked, who was also stretched unconscious on the ground. ‘We must tie both of them up before we leave. There is rope in the boat.’
Adam hobbled down the jetty and reached into the boat. Within minutes, the two Germans were trussed like turkeys. One of them was beginning to come round and was emitting low groaning noises – Quint walked over to him and kicked him hard in the back of the head. The man ceased groaning immediately. Quint then turned his attention to his companion.
‘Leave him be, Quint,’ Adam called softly. ‘The man is dead to the world.’
‘Ain’t no point riskin’ it,’ Quint hissed back. ‘The other one was grunting like a pig under a tub. This one might do the same.’ He aimed another kick.
The two men then made their way to the boat and climbed in. They untied it from the wooden post at the end of the jetty and pushed off. Reaching down to the bottom boards, Adam found the two oars and silently passed one to Quint. Weary and mud-spattered, they began to row away from the island.
Within a few minutes, the boat hit the mud of a bank on the opposite shore and stuck fast. They were back on the mainland, Pfaueninsel little more than a dark shape behind them. They hauled themselves out of the boat and onto the bank.
As they did so, three men burst from the undergrowth on the island. There were sudden popping noises which, Adam realized after a moment of puzzlement, were the sounds of pistols firing. Nature was on their side. Clouds floated once more across the face of the half-moon. Ravelstein’s gunmen could no l
onger see their targets but they continued to blaze away into the darkness.
With Quint at his heels, Adam disappeared into the woods that fringed the banks of the Havel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
‘Your friend is dead. Perhaps it is for the best.’ Etherege glanced sideways at Adam, as if to judge the effect of his remark. ‘I do not wish to sound heartless, but it will be easier for us to deal with Harry Vernon the late hero than Harry Vernon the living traitor. And his death will mean that it is easy enough to present him as a hero.’
‘He was not my friend. I spoke to the man on only one occasion. Yet I am sorry that he is dead. I am pleased that you will report back to London that he died a hero.’
‘It will be simpler that way. We will thus avoid the asking of too many awkward questions.’
The two men were walking in the Tiergarten. It was the morning after Adam’s adventures on Pfaueninsel. His body ached from the beating administered by Ravelstein’s thugs but a doctor summoned to the Deutscher Hof had confirmed that no serious damage had been done.
In the light of what had happened, Adam had decided that his best option was to seek out the diplomat and tell him much of what he knew. He had even wondered if he and Quint should seek refuge in the embassy, but had decided against that. As Adam had expected, Etherege had not seemed entirely surprised by his revelations: ‘We knew that Vernon must be in Berlin for more than social reasons,’ he said. ‘Sunman had hinted as much and, forgive me, I did not entirely believe the story you told me when we met at the Café Beethoven.’
They had circled around the trees and bushes so neatly planted in the Königsplatz and were now standing side by side, looking across at the imposing bulk of the Kroll Opera House.
Carver's Truth Page 31
