“Now I know where the yellow Albatros materialized from,” said Pitt. “An old Japanese I-Boat, capable of launching a small scout plane. They haven’t been in use since World War II.”
“Yes, a handsome specimen,” von Till said jovially. “I’m honored you could identify it. Sunk by an American destroyer off Iwo Jima in 1945, raised by Minerva Lines in 1951. I’ve found the combination of submarine and aircraft a most useful method of delivering small cargoes into areas that demand extreme discretion.”
“A handy toy for also attacking United States airfields and research ships,” Pitt added.
“Touché, Major,” von Till murmured. “At dinner the other night you guessed that the plane came from the sea. You were groping blindly, but you came much closer than you thought.”
“I can see that now.” Pitt shot a quick glance at the tunnel entrance. Two more guards leaned negligently against the walls of the opening, their machine pistols hung carelessly over their shoulders. Pitt started to say: “The antique Albatros—”
“Correction.” von Till interrupted. “A replica of an Albatros. For my purposes a slow, bi-wing aircraft was the most efficient means of landing and taking off on short fields, dark beaches, or in water beside a ship; the lower wing can, or should I say could fold downward in the shape of hydrofoil pontoons. I used the Albatros D-3 design with a more modern engine, of course, because the aerodynamics provided the perfect answer to my requirements And an old shabby looking airplane would never be suspected of shall we say, slightly illegal activities. A pity it will never fly again.”
Von Till pulled a box of cigarettes from his breast pocket and lit one. Then he went on.
“My delivery plane was never meant to be armed or flown in combat It was only after I had no alternative but to assault Brady Field and your precious research ship that I had the guns installed; a drastic move perhaps but your Commander Gunn refused to be discouraged by my subtle efforts to sabotage his expedition. There was little to fear from a Sunday swimmer or a diving tourist discovering my little underwater modus operandi However, a trained ocean scientist, that was something else again. I could not take the risk. The raid was, I am still convinced, an excellent plan.
Colonel Lewis would have had no choice but to order the its name escapes me, ah yes, the First Attempt to evacuate the Thasos coast if the attack had continued unhindered. You couldn’t have known, of course, that the Albatros intended to make a token strafing run against the ship immediately after it neutralized the airfield. Inopportunely, Major Pitt, you blundered onto the scene and ruined everything.”
“The fortunes of war,” Pitt offered sarcastically.
“It is a shame Willie cannot be here to hear you say that.”
“Where is good old peeping-Tom Willie?” Pitt asked.
“Willi was the pilot,” von Till answered. “When the Albatros crashed into the sea, poor Willie was trapped in the wreckage. He drowned before we could reach him.” Von Till’s face abruptly became hard and menacing. “It seems you cost me my chauffeur and pilot as well as my dog.”
“Gullibility on Willie’s part,” Pitt said quietly. “I suckered him with the same old balloon trick that the British used on Kurt Heibert. As to the dog, before you sic another one of your hydrophobic bitches on your next unsuspecting dinner guest, I suggest you count your table utensils.”
Von Till looked at Pitt curiously for a moment Then he nodded knowingly. “Remarkable, quite remarkable. You killed my champion hound with a knife from my own dinner table. Most ungracious of you, Major, to say the least May I ask how you were forewarned?”
“Premonition,” Pitt replied. “No more, no less. You should never have tried to kill me. That was your first mistake.”
“It is a pity your escape from the labyrinth only prolonged your existence by a few hours.”
Pitt nonchalantly glanced past von Till and Darius.
The ominous black tunnel was now strangely empty; the two guards had disappeared. Not so the five guards who lined the cavern wall with the machine pistols — they looked as menacing as ever.
“Your reception committee leads me to believe you were expecting us,” Pitt murmured quietly.
“Of course we were expecting you,” von Till acknowledged matter-of-factly. “Good friend Darius here informed me of your impending arrival. The exact time became apparent when the First Attempt began acting suspiciously; no captain in his right mind would run his ship that close-in to the Thasos cliffs.”
“How many pieces of silver did it take for Darius to turn traitor?”
“The exact sum wouldn’t be of interest to you,” said von Till. “The fact is. Darius has been in my employ for ten years. You might say that our association has proved to be quite mutually rewarding.”
Pitt stared into Darius' coal-black eyes. “No matter how you slice it. it still add up to treason. That’s your second mistake, von Till Hiring a slimey cockroach of a bastard like Darius. it’s bound to backfire.”
Darius shivered in involuntary rage. The Luger protruded from his massive fist as if it were a mutant growth extension, and it was aimed unsteadily at Pitt’s navel.
Von Till shook his head tiredly. “Antagonizing Darius will only make you very, very dead.”
“What’s the difference. You’re going to kill all of us anyway.”
“Premonition again. Major? It serves you well.” Von Till spoke cheerfully. Too cheerfully to suit Pitt.
“I hate surprises,” Pitt said caustically. “How and when?”
With a practiced flourish, von Till pushed back his sleeves and carefully studied the dial of his watch. “In eleven minutes to be exact. That is all the time I can afford.”
“Why not now?” Darius growled. “Why wait? We have other business at hand.”
“Patience Darius,” von Till chided. “You’re not thinking. We can use the extra hands to load our supplies on board the submarine.” He gazed down at Pitt and smiled “Because of your wound. Major you’re excused. The rest of your men can begin by carrying the equipment you see on the dock into the forward hatch.”
“We don’t work for butchers,” Pitt spoke softly and evenly.
“Very well, if you insist.” Von Till beamed at Darius. “Shoot away his left ear. With your next bullet, take off his nose. After that his—”
“Stow it, you sadistic old hun.” The words fairly spat from Woodson’s lips. “We’ll load your goddamned pigboat.”
They had no choice. Pitt had no choice. He could only sit by helplessly and watch as Spencer and Hersong began attacking a small mountain of wooden crates on the dock and passing them to Knight and Thomas on the sub. Woodson vanished into the hatch; only his arms, rising occasionally above the deck to receive a crate, revealed his whereabouts.
The burning sensation returned to Pitt's leg in earnest now. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn that a microscopic little man was running back and forth through his wound with a flamethrower. One or twice he nearly blacked out; each time he fought desperately to hold on until the engulfing waves of darkness subsided. On sheer will power alone he kept his voice on a conversational tone.
“You only answered the when half of my question, von Till.”
“Does the method of your demise really matter that much to you?’
“Like I said. I hate surprises.”
Von Till studied Pitt in cold speculation, then he shrugged. “I suppose it does no harm to hide the inevitable.” He paused to check his watch again. “You and your men will be shot A bit barbaric and ruthless, I grant, but I prefer to think of it as a rather humane death, especially when compared to being buried alive.”
Pitt thought for a moment “The loading of supplies and equipment. those men removing the guns from the wrecked Albatros, it all spells get-away. You’re folding your tent, von Till, and stealing off into the night Then after you’ve left, one minute, five minutes, maybe even half an hour. explosive charges will detonate and seal the cavern under tons of rock, ent
ombing the six of us and erasing all evidence of your underwater smuggling operation.”
Von Till looked at Pitt in puzzled suspicion. “Go on, Major. I find your assumptions extremely fascinating.”
“You’re running on a tight time schedule, and you’re running scared. Under our feet, beneath this dock, rests a hundred and thirty tons of heroin — loaded into the sub at Shanghai and carried across the Indian Ocean and through the Suez Canal by a Minerva Lines freighter. I have to hand it to you; anyone else would have tried to sneak the heroin into the United States through the backdoor without fanfare. Not so Bruno von Till. BBD&O together with J. Walter Thompson and all the other agencies on Madison Avenue couldn’t have created a more professional job of advertising the Queen Artemisia’s illegal cargo and final destination. It was shrewd thinking. Even though INTERPOL agents have finally unriddled your underwater transportation, it makes little difference. All their eyes are still trained on the Queen Artenusia.
Do you follow me?”
They stood mute and offered no affirmative or negative reply. “As Darius has undoubtedly informed you,” Pitt went on, “Inspector Zacynthus and the Bureau of Narcotics are currently wasting their time and efforts in preparing a trap for the ship when it reaches Chicago. I shudder to think of the four letter words that will fall on Lake Michigan when they discover nothing but the ship’s crew wearing their best actor’s smiles and the holds filled with nothing but the cocoa from Ceylon.”
Pitt paused and shifted his throbbing leg to a more comfortable position. He noticed that Knight and Thomas had joined Woodson below the hatch. Then he continued.
“It must be a great source of satisfaction to know that INTERPOL has taken your bait, hook, line and sinker. They’re totally unaware that the sub and the heroin were dropped here last night in order to be transferred to the next Minerva Line’s ship that happens past; which, by the way, should be the Queen Jocasta, bound for New Orleans with a cargo of Turkish tobacco and due to drop anchor a mile off shore in approximately ten minutes. That’s why you’re running scared, von Till. Time has caught up with you, and you have to gamble on a rendezvous with your ship in broad daylight,”
“You have a vivid imagination,” von Till said contemptuously. But Pitt could see the lines of concern in the old man’s face. “There is absolutely no way you can prove your wild theories.”
Pitt ignored his words. He said: “Why should I bother? I’m going to die in a few minutes anyway.”
“You have a point. Major,” von Till said slowly. “I compliment you. Your perception is excellent. I see no harm in admitting that you are correct in everything you have said. with one exception: The Queen Jocasta will not dock in New Orleans. At the last minute, it will alter course for Galveston, Texas.”
The three men on the other sub had removed the guns from the Albatros and mysteriously dropped out of sight. Hersong stepped off the dock and passed a crate through the hatch to Spencer. who had now vanished into the hull with Thomas, Knight and Woodson. Pitt spoke quickly. He needed every second now.
“One question before Darius gets carried away. Out of old world courtesy. you can’t deny me that.”
Darius stood there. his evil face masked with murderous intent. He looked like a sadistic kid in a biology class who could hardly wait to dissect a frog.
“Very well, Major,” von Till said conversationally.
“What is it?”
“How will the heroin be distributed after it's unloaded in Galveston?”
Von Till smiled. “One of my lesser known business ventures is a small fleet of fishing boats; not a financially rewarding venture, I might add, but one that becomes quite useful at times. At the moment, my boats are dropping their nets in the Gulf of Mexico, awaiting my signal When it comes, they will raise their nets and arrive in port at the exact same moment as the Queen Jocarta. The rest is simple: the ship releases the submarine, which is in turn led by the fishing boats to a cannery. The cargo is then unloaded under the building, and the heroin is packed into cans labeled catfood. I must say, it is ironic; all that powder being shipped into every one of your fifty states in catfood cans. The joke is on the Bureau of Narcotics. By the time their suspicions are aroused, it will be too late. The heroin will have already been received and carefully hidden. Admit it, Major. doesn’t the prospect of all that heroin being smelled, swallowed, or injected by millions of your own countrymen shock your holier-than-thou Yankee moral standards?”
Now Pitt was smiling. “It might, if it ever came to pass.”
Von Till’s eyes narrowed. Pitt wasn’t acting like a doomed man. Something very definitely was off key.
“It will come to pass. I promise you that.”
“Millions of people,” Pitt said wonderingly. “You stand there with a smile on your ugly mouth and openly boast of the misery you’re going to extract from millions of people for a few lousy dollars.”
“Hardly a few dollars. Major. I think half a billion dollars would be a closer figure.
“You’ll never live to count it, much less spend it.”
“And who is going to stop me? You, Major? Inspector Zacynthus? Possibly a lightning bolt from the sky?”
“Wishing will make it so.”
“I’ve had enough of his stupid words,” Darius said bitterly. “Now — now let him pay for his arrogance.”
The supremely grotesque face was a cloud of black malevolence. Pitt didn’t like the look he didn’t like the look at all. He could almost feel Darius’ finger tighten around the trigger of the Luger.
“Come now,” Pitt said slowly. “Killing me now wouldn’t be sporting. My eleven minutes aren’t up yet.”
Actually to Pitt, it seemed he had been talking for hours.
Von Till stood silent for several seconds and toyed with his cigarette Then he said: “There is one point that intrigues me, Major. Why did you kidnap my niece?”
Pitt’s lips tightened to a sly grin. “To begin with, she’s not your niece.”
Darius’ face went blank. “You — you could not have known.”
“I knew,” said Pitt evenly. “Unlike you, von Till, I didn’t have the benefit of an informer, but I knew. All in all, Zacynthus gave it a good try, but his plan was headed for failure right from the start. He hid the genuine niece away in a safe place in England and found
another girl who resembled her. They hardly had to be
exact doubles since you hadn’t laid eyes on the real Teri in over twenty years. Zacynthus also carefully planned his Mata Hari's cross country vacation to look like nothing more than an innocent surprise holiday visit by a loving relative.”
Darius stared at von Till, his massive jaw seeming to grind Pitt’s revelation to pieces, Von Till’s expression didn’t change. He just slowly nodded in apparent understanding.
“Too bad,” Pitt said, “it was all for nothing. You weren’t the least bit surprised. Darius had seen to that.
At that point, you had two choices; you could either expose the girl as an impostor and throw her out, or you could play along and feed her false information. Quite naturally your devious mind chose the latter.
You were in your element. You felt like a puppeteer pulling strings. You could now play the girl and Darius on the ends against Zacynthus and Zeno in the middle.”
“An irresistible situation,” said von Till. “Do you agree?”
“You couldn’t miss,” Pitt went on calmly “From the time of her arrival until Giordino and I grabbed her from the villa, the girl’s every move was closely watched by your chauffeur. Under the guise of a sort of bodyguard; Willie stuck with her like a leech. It must have been entertaining work, especially when she sunbathed on the beach. At that, her passion for early morning swimming was nothing but a means of making contact with Zacynthus. It was the only opportunity you gave her to pass him information, all of it worthless. How you must have laughed, knowing she was swallowing every bit of crap you fed her. Then something happened and Zacynthus began to get wise.
Arriving late for their rendezvous one morning, he probably spotted Willie lurking in the bushes, both eyes unerringly focused on the girl in her bikini.
Zacynthus couldn’t help wondering if Willie had been there observing all the other predawn meetings.
Suddenly he saw his well-conceived plan going down the drain. It looked as though you had outsmarted him again.”
“We could have regained the advantage,” Darius sputtered in pure rage, “except for you.”
Pitt shrugged. “Enter our hero, yours truly, who blundered onto the stage, little knowing he would get clawed, beaten and shot before the final curtain. My life would have been far less complicated if only I’d stayed in bed that morning instead of taking an early swim. When Teri discovered me, I was taking a nap on the tideline. It was still dark, and she mistook me for Zacynthus, thinking one of your men had murdered him. She damn near went into shock when my apparently lifeless body suddenly sat upright and started a light conversation?
The pain wave hit him again and he gripped his leg as if trying to squeeze the agony away. He forced himself to go on, his words strained through gritted teeth.
“Something had gone very — very wrong. Zacynthus failed to show, and here was a total stranger who seemingly knew nothing about what was going on — add to that the staggering odds against an outsider accidentally swimming on that particular deserted beach at four in the morning, and you have one confused girl. I’ll give her credit, she’s a fast thinker. Considering the circumstances, she grabbed at the only conclusion open to her.
I had to be on your payroll, von Till. So she went through her carefully rehearsed biography routine and invited me to the villa for dinner, expecting to throw you a curve by innocently introducing you to your own hired man.”
Von Till smiled, “I am afraid you cooked your own goose, my dear Pitt, with your ridiculous tale about being in charge of garbage collecting. She didn’t really believe it, but oddly enough I did.”
“Not as odd as it seems,” Pitt said. “No trained agent in his right mind would ever use a cover as hokey as that one. You knew that. Besides, you had no cause for alarm; there was no warning from Darius. It was really only a joke on my part — one that backfired with rather painful results.”
The Mediterranean Caper dp-2 Page 22
