Citadel of Death (A Captain Gringo Western Book 11)

by Lou Cameron

  Von Linderhoff hadn’t. The last time they’d had dealings, the sardonic Prussian had kept his word as an officer and gentleman. Captain Gringo knew the German would crush him like a beetle if it were in Germany’s interest, but to give the devil his due, the Kaiser’s man in South America didn’t seem to be a bastard just for practice.

  “I can’t do it,” Captain Gringo muttered to himself, rising from the chair he’d placed near the closed door. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this to British Intelligence but enough was enough. This wasn’t soldiering, it was premeditated murder, and the guy they wanted killed had never done anything to him.

  He reached for the doorknob with his free hand, but just at that moment the door opened and Von Linderhoff came in, groping for the light switch. Captain Gringo grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut with his foot as he ripped the blade up through the space the German’s guts should have been. But the wiry Prussian had dropped and twisted away, rolling across the rug as he groped for his shoulder holster. Captain Gringo dove on him head first, pinned him to the floor by the throat, and stabbed down hard. The blade knifed through the leather of the holster over Von Linderhoff’s heart, broke on the Mauser steel inside, as the Prussian grabbed Captain’s wrists with his own strong hands and gasped, “Wait, let’s talk!”

  Captain Gringo twisted his knife hand free, and raised the blade high, trying to figure out a soft spot the blunted blade would work on as he sat on the German’s chest. Von Linderhoff said, “Stop it, Walker. We’re both being set up, you fool!”

  Captain Gringo put the blade against the German officer’s throat but held off from slicing as he snapped, “Move a muscle and you’re dead. How did you know it was me? It’s black as a bitch in here.”

  Von Linderhoff relaxed and said, “Ach, that’s easy. I’m stronger than anyone else that Englishwoman has working for her. You have me, you big dumb Yankee. But before you cut my throat I have some news for you.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “The fight is over. You’ll be killing me for no reason and the French police will be after you, too.”

  “A lot of people are after me. What do you mean the fight is over?”

  “The Dreyfus Affair. I didn’t come here to get the man killed. I came to check on the team another department sent. Most of them have been rounded up by the French, thanks to your friends from Whitehall, and I didn’t like their plan to begin with. I just sent a coded cable to Berlin, advising them to let nature take its course. Dreyfus is already a martyr and I see no reason to make a Holy Ghost out of him. All our dirty linen has been aired in the newspapers already, thanks to that damned Zola. Our best move now would be to simply laugh the case off as a political problem for the French to decide. After all, we Germans never had any interest in Captain Dreyfus. The sooner the affair dies down the sooner we can start rebuilding our bridges to the French High Command, nicht wahr?”

  Captain Gringo nodded and said, “That makes sense, even for you guys. But how do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  “My word as an officer and gentleman? I dealt from the top of the deck the time we worked together to get innocent bystanders out of that blow-up in Colombia, remember?”

  “Yeah, and it surprised the shit out of me. I know you’re not a bad guy, Von Linderhoff. How come you work for such a nasty government?”

  “That’s British propaganda. Der Kaiser is no better nor worse than his beloved grandmother, Victoria. Look at the map of the world and tell me if Germany has taken half of it in this century!”

  “Yeah, you guys are planning to grab everything in the next century, right?”

  Von Linderhoff sighed, “That’s the way the Great Game has always been played, my young friend. Germany was divided and weak when the British and you Americans robbed both kinds of Indians. Now we just want our share.”

  “Screw power politics, get to the part about my being used. There’s been a lot of that going around lately.”

  “Will you let me up?”

  ‘No, you’re doing fine flat on your back. It’s a good position for guys like you. Assuming British Intelligence has you wrong, how are they screwing me?”

  “Zum Gott! Isn’t it obvious? You’re being used as a tool. I’m here on a diplomatic visa with the full knowledge of the French government. So if you kill me it will be murder pure and simple, and do you really think the British will admit they even know you when you’re caught?”

  Captain Gringo thought and then he sighed, “Fair is fair and when you’re right you’re right. I don’t want to kill you, Von Linderhoff, but they made me a pretty good deal.”

  “Maybe I can top it. I assume they offered you safe passage out of this prison colony? Very well, I have my own sea-going yacht tied up just a little way from here. We have twin diesels and I was about to leave in any case, so—”

  “Oh, great, you’d love to get us out on the open sea where we could continue this discussion in private under the guns of a German crew, right? You must think I’m pretty country, Von Linderhoff. Thanks a lot, but I’d feel safer with the English lady and, no offense, she’s a lot better looking, too!”

  The Prussian chuckled and said, “Ach, that Liza is flat chested and much nastier than me, even though I admit you’re just not my type. But seriously, Dick, you’d better reconsider killing me for her!”

  Captain Gringo kept the blade where it was but said, “I already have, or we wouldn’t be chatting like this. Do you want to make another deal, man-to-man?”

  “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

  “Damned A. But if I let you live you have to give me your word again on a couple of things.”

  “Name them. You have my undivided attention as well as my word.”

  “Okay, I’ll have to tell them I killed you. You’ll stay here, with the lights out and the door locked until we’ve left aboard Liza’s yacht. If she finds out you’re alive she’ll be sore as hell and I’ll be stranded here. If that happens you’d better pray the French cops catch me before I can get back to you again. Do we have a deal?”

  “Of course. Now will you get off my damned chest?”

  Captain Gringo tossed the knife aside and removed the pistol from the Prussian’s shoulder holster before he rose and helped Von Linderhoff to his feet. They shook on the deal and Captain Gringo stepped out into the deserted hall. He went downstairs, changed his clothes, and dropped the Mauser in a waste basket. Then he locked the door behind him and went down to the lobby trying to look innocent.

  As he turned in his key a couple of men in plainclothes stepped up on either side and one of them said, “You will come with us, M’sieur.”

  He didn’t think the thing poking him in the floating ribs was a candy cane, so he kept his hands on the desk as he smiled and said, “Of course. Where are we going?”

  “Upstairs to room 307.”

  That was Von Linderhoff’s room!

  Captain Gringo started for the stairs with the two cops on either side as he played dumb, his mind in a whirl. He said, “I don’t know anyone on the third floor. My room’s on the second.”

  The cop covering him said politely, “We’ll see. Don’t take this personally, M’sieur. We’re just doing our job, and, hopefully, there’s nothing to the tip we just received, hein?”

  They didn’t talk much as the three of them puffed up the stairs. Captain Gringo wasn’t bothered as much by the climb, but he was looking for an opening and the bastards were too good to give him one.

  As one kept him covered the other knocked on Von Linderhoff’s door. There was a long silence. Then the German answered it in his shirt sleeves and asked, “Yes?”

  “May we come in, M’sieur? We have received an unsigned note that a murder had occurred in this room. We have to check it out, if you’d be good enough.”

  The German laughed and switched on the overhead light as he opened the door wide, saying, “Why Dick, I didn’t know you were staying at this hotel.”r />
  Captain Gringo said, “Yeah, small world, isn’t it?”

  One of the cops stepped in, swept his eyes over everything, muttered a curse and looked in the adjoining bath. Then he dropped to his hands and knees, looked under the bed, and rose with a very annoyed expression. He asked, “Do you gentlemen know each other?” Von Linderhoff nodded and said, “Our paths have crossed from time to time. What’s this all about, M’sieur L’Agent?”

  “I don’t know,” the French detective replied. “The note was in a woman’s handwriting. It said that M’sieur Smith, here, had plans to murder someone in this room. You are Herr Von Linderhoff, from the German consulate?”

  “Of course. And M’sieur Smith, here, is an American businessman who’s never murdered anyone to my knowledge.”

  The candy cane was no longer pressed against Captain Gringo’s ribs, but the one who’d been covering him said, “How curious. You say he’s an American, yet he’s registered as a Canadian.”

  Von Linderhoff shrugged and said, “Ach, how should I know the difference? I’m a German and all Englishers seem alike to me. Isn’t is obvious we’ve been the target of some obscure attempt at a practical joke, officers?”

  The cop in charge put one finger alongside his nose and said, “Cher-chez la femme, hein? Obviously one of you has annoyed some lady and she tried to make trouble.”

  Von Linderhoff smiled crookedly at Captain Gringo and said, “I told you she was naughty, Herr Smith. But all’s well that ends well, nicht wahr?”

  The two cops excused themselves and walked off muttering. Captain Gringo said, “That was pretty decent of you, considering.”

  Von Linderhoff nodded and said, “I know. I’m still bruised. But I get so few chances to put one over on British Intelligence. She’s going to wet her pants when she finds out we both survived her nasty ploy, nicht wahr?”

  “Yeah. Meanwhile, you’re supposed to be dead, so stay that way until I find out what the fuck she thinks she’s pulling!”

  He went downstairs again and this time made it out to the street without getting arrested. He steamed down to the waterfront and found Gaston seated at a tin table with a rum and lemon. He said, “Come on, that fuckin’ Liza’s pulling another fast one!”

  Gaston rose, leaving some coins on the table, but as he fell in with the angry American he said, “She’s gone. I was wondering where you were so long. Did you kill the Boche?”

  “No. What do you mean she’s gone, Goddamn it.”

  “As I regarded the tranquil harbor lights I observed her yacht departing. There seemed to be nothing I could do about it, so I waited, and here you are. Where are we going in such a hurry, Dick. I just said your skinny Englishwoman has left us high and dry!”

  Captain Gringo snapped, “I know. But I said we were leaving tonight for Costa Rica and we’re getting hot as hell as well as high and dry. So we’ll just have to hitch another ride!”

  Gaston caught on as they approached a schooner tied to the quay. It was rigged fore and aft and a white German ensign hung from its jack staff. As Captain Gringo marched up the gangplank a man in neat sailing kit appeared at the top and asked, “May I help you, Mein Herr?”

  Captain Gringo snapped, “Achtung!” And when the crewman stiffened to attention automatically he decked him with a vicious left hook, stepped aboard, and drew his pistol.

  There were seven more on board. Five men and two women. As Captain Gringo lined them up to frisk them down, the girl in the loose kimono said, “Please do not hurt us. We are only servant girls. I am the, how you, chambermaid?”

  He looked her over and liked what he saw. He nodded at the darker mesitzo next to her and asked, “What does she do, when she’s fully dressed?”

  “Maria is the cook, I suppose.”

  He grinned and said, “All right. All you men forward to the sail locker. We’ll put you ashore just up the coast if you behave yourselves. If I have any trouble with you I’ll feed you to the sharks. Gaston, lock ‘em up and see if you remember how to start those diesels.”

  As Gaston started herding the German crewmen forward, one of them protested, “This is piracy, Mein Herr.”

  Captain Gringo nodded and said, “You are so right. You girls can’t be carrying any concealed weapons. So both of you sit down and stay put while I cast off. We pirates can get mean as hell, so don’t make any trouble.”

  They didn’t want to make any trouble. So in less than three minutes the pirated yacht was under way, with the crewmen locked up and the Creole girl sitting in Captain Gringo’s lap as he steered for the high seas. For some reason Gaston seemed to need the little dark one with him as he ran the engines down below. The moon was rising and a gentle sea was running as the girl in his lap ran her fingers through his hair and begged him not to make her walk the plank.

  He said, “Reach in my shirt pocket and put one of those cigars in my mouth, will you? What’s your name, Honey?”

  “If you please, M’sieur, I am called Fifi. Where are you taking us now that we are in your power?”

  He said, “You please me very much, Fifi. We’re on our way to Costa Rica. Do you want to come along or do you want to go ashore with the others?”

  Fifi struck a light for him and said, “I have heard it is most pretty in Costa Rica, and you are pretty too. Maria and I signed on for adventure and this is all terribly exciting. I have never been captured by pirates before. One assumes you will wish to abuse us all the way to Costa Rica?”

  “You’re damned right. I don’t know what the guy who owns this boat offered you, but we’ve got plenty of booze and a pleasant voyage to offer.”

  Fifi laughed, “That’s good enough. I did not think that cold old German would be much fun, but anything is better than staying in a French colony. There is simply too much free competition for girls in our line.”

  “Okay, be good,” he said, “and we’ll take you along.” So Fifi got off his lap, got out of her kimono, and knelt naked on the duck boards between him and the wheel as she started to unbutton his fly. He said, “Hey, wait ’til we get rid of the crew. We’ll anchor during daylight hours in the coves along the coast. It’s a long trip and I’m in no hurry.”

  But then, as she started to work on him with her lips he braced his legs out to either side of the wheel and leaned back to enjoy the watch on the tiller. Once she had it up, Fifi said she wanted to steer, so he let her. Sitting naked on his shaft she gripped the spokes and said, “Oh, this in fun.”

  He liked the hourglass of her pale back in the moonlight. But if he remembered correctly her smaller, darker companion had been prettier. Damn that Gaston. He’d grabbed the cute mestizo first. He was probably doing this very thing, right now, in the engine room. But as Fifi began to bounce, Captain Gringo decided to be philosophical. After all, they had plenty of time to swap, more than once, between here and Costa Rica.

  The forward hatch opened just as he was coming. Gaston came back to the cockpit, blinked, and said, “Eh bien the engines are running themselves and I see you have the situation under firm control back here. I wish I could say the same, but the dark one is a little young for me and now she’s crying on her bunk for some reason.”

  Captain Gringo laughed, “In that case, take the wheel with Fifi. I’ll uh, go forward and have a talk with her.”

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