'Not so good,' Devlin said.
'You don't need to go to the cottage. You can cut through the marsh on foot and still reach that beach in time,' Steiner pointed out.
'For what?' Devlin sighed. 'I've a tenible confession to make, Colonel. I went off in such a devil of a hurry that I left the S-phone at the bottom of a carrier-bag filled with spuds that's hanging behind the kitchen door.'
Steiner laughed softly. 'My friend, you are truly yourself alone, God must have broken the mould after turning you out.'
'I know.' Devlin said. 'A hell of a thing to live with, but staying with the present situation, I can't call Koenig without it.'
'You don't think he'll come in without a signal?'
'That was the arrangement. Any time between nine and ten as ordered. Another thing. Whatever happened to Joanna Grey, it's likely she got some sort of a message off to Landsvoort. If Radl has passed it on to Koenig. he and his boys could be already on their way back.'
'No,' Steiner said. 'I don't think so. Koenig will come. Even if he fails to get your signal, he will come to that beach.'
'Why should he?'
'Because he told me he would,' Steiner said simply. 'So you see, you could manage without the S-phone. Even if the Rangers search the area, they won't bother with the beach because the signs say it is mined. If you get there in good time you can walk along the estuary for at least a quarter of a mile with the tide as it is.'
'With Ritter in his state of health?'
'All he needs is a stick and a shoulder to lean on. Once in Russia He walked eighty miles in three days through snow with a bullet in his right foot. When a man knows he'll die if he stays where he is. it concentrates his mind wonderfully on moving somewhere else. You'll save a considerable amount of time. Meet Koenig on his way in.'
'You're not going with us.' It was a statement of fact, not a question. 'I think you know where I must go, my friend.'
Devlin sighed 'I was always the great believer in letting a man go to hell his own way but I'm willing to make an exception in your case. You won't even get close. They'll have more guards round him than there are flies on a jam jar on a hot summer day.'
'In spite of that I must try.'
'Why because you think it might help your father's case back home? That's an illusion. Face up to it. Nothing you do can help him if that old sod at Prinz Albrechtstrasse decides otherwise.'
'Yes, you're very probably right I think I've always known that.'
'Then why?'
'Because I find it impossible to do anything else.'
'I don't understand.'
'I think you do. This game you play Trumpets on the wind, the tricolour fluttering bravely in the grey morning. Up the Republic. Remember Easter nineteen-sixteen. But tell me this, my friend In the end, do you control the game or does the game possess you? Can you stop, if you want, or must it always be the same? Trenchcoats and Thompson guns, my life for Ireland until the day you be in the gutter with a bullet in y our back?'
Devlin said hoarsely, 'God knows, I don't.'
'But I do, my friend. And now, I think, we should rejoin the others. You will naturally say nothing about my personal plans Ritter could prove difficult.'
'All right,' Devlin said reluctantly
They moved back through the night to the ruined cottage where they found Molly rebandaging one of Ritter's thighs 'How are you doing?' Steiner asked him.
'Fine,' Ritter answered, but when Steiner put a hand on his forehead it was damp with sweat
Molly joined Devlin in the angle of the two walls where he sheltered from the rain smoking a cigarette 'He's not good.' she said. 'Needs a doctor if you ask me.'
'You might as well send for an undertaker,' Devlin said 'But never mind him. It's you I'm worried about now. You could be in serious trouble from this night's work.'
She was curiously indifferent 'Nobody saw me get you out of the church, nobody can prove I did. As far as they're concerned I've been sitting on the heath in the rain crying my heart out at finding the truth about my lover.'
'For God's sake, Molly '
'Poor, silly little bitch, they'll say. Got her fingers burned and serves her right for trusting a stranger.'
He said awkwardly, 'I haven't thanked you.'
'It doesn't matter I didn't do it for you I did it for me.' She was a simple girl in many ways and content to be so and yet now, more than at any other time in her life, she wanted to be able to express herself with complete certainty 'I love you. That doesn't mean I like what you are or what you've done or even understand it. That's something different. The love is a separate issue It's in a compartment of its own. That's why I got you out of that church tonight. Not because it was right or wrong, but because I couldn't have lived with myself if I d stood by and let you die.' She pulled herself free. 'I'd better check on how the lieutenant is getting on.'
She walked over to the car and Devlin swallowed hard. Wasn't it the strange thing? The bravest speech he'd ever heard in his life, a girl to cheer from the rooftops and here he felt more like crying at the tragic waste of it all.
At twenty past eight Devlin and Steiner went down through the trees again. The cottage out there in the marsh was in darkness but on the main road, there were subdued voices, the dim shape of a vehicle 'Let's move a little closer,' Steiner whispered.
They got to the boundary wall between the wood and the road and peered over It was raining hard now. There were two jeeps, one on either side of the road and several Rangers were sheltering under the trees. A match flared in Garvey's cupped hands, lighting his face for a brief moment.
Steiner and Devlin retreated 'The big negro,' Steiner said. 'The Master Sergeant who was with Kane waiting to see if you show up'
'Why not at the cottage?'
'He probably has men out there, too. This way he covers the road as well.'
'It doesn't matter,' Devlin said. 'We can cross the road further down. Make into the beach on foot as you said.'
'Easier if you had a diversion.'
'Such as?'
'Me in a stolen car passing through that road block. I could do with your trenchcoat, by the way, if you'd consider a permanent loan.'
Devlin couldn't see his face in the darkness and suddenly didn't want to. 'Damn you, Steiner, go to hell your own way!' he said wearily. He unslung his Sten gun, took off the trenchcoat and handed it over. 'You'll find a silenced Mauser in the right-hand pocket and two extra magazines.'
'Thank you,' Steiner took off his Schiff and pushed it inside his Fliegerbluse. He pulled on the trenchcoat and belted it. 'So, the final end of things. We'll say goodbye here, I think.'
'Tell me one thing,' Devlin said. 'Has it been worth it? Any of it?'
'Oh, no.' Steiner laughed lightly. 'No more philosophy, please.' He held out his hand. 'May you find what you are searching for, my friend.'
'I already have and lost it in the finding,' Devlin told him..
'Then from now on, nothing really matters,' Steiner said. 'A dangerous situation. You will have to take care,' and he turned and went back to the ruined cottage.
They got Ritter out of the car and pushed it to where the track started to slope to a five-barred gate, the road on the other side. Steiner ran down and opened it, pulling a six-foot length of rail off the fence which he gave to Ritter when he got back.
'How's that?' he asked.
'Fine,' Ritter said bravely. 'Do we go now?'
'You, not me. There are Rangers down there on the road. I thought I might arrange a small diversion while you get across. I'll catch up with you later.'
Ritter grabbed his arm and there was panic in his voice. 'No, Kurt, I can't let you do this.'
Steiner said, 'Oberleutnant Neumann, you are undoubtedly the finest soldier I've ever known. From Narvik to Stalingrad, you've never shirked your duty or disobeyed an order of mine and I haven't the slightest intention of letting you start now.'
Ritter tried to straighten up, bracing himself against the rail.
'As the Herr Oberst wishes,' he said formally.
'Good,' Steiner said. 'Go now, please, Mr Devlin, and good luck.'
He opened the car door and Ritter called softly, 'Herr Oberst.'
'Yes?'
'A privilege to serve with you, sir.'
'Thank you, Herr Oberleutnant.'
Steiner got into the Morris, released the brake and the car started to roll down the track.
.
Devlin and Molly went through the trees, Ritter between them, and paused at the side of the low wall. Devlin whispered, 'Time for you to go, girl.'
'I'll see you to the beach, Liam,' she said firmly.
He had no chance to argue because the car engine started forty yards up the road and the Morris's slotted headlights were turned on. One of the Rangers took a red lamp from under his cape and waved it. Devlin had expected the German to drive straight on, but to his astonishment, he slowed. Steiner was taking a coldly calculated risk, something designed to draw every last man there. There was only one way he could do that. He waited for Garvey's approach, his left hand on the wheel, his right holding the Mauser.
Garvey said as he approached. 'Sorry, but you'll have to identify yourself.'
He switched on the torch in his left hand, picking Steiner's face out of the darkness. The Mauser coughed once as Steiner fired, apparently at point blank range, but a good two inches to one side, the wheels skidded as he stamped on the accelerator and was away.
'That was Steiner himself, Goddammit!' Garvey cried. 'Get after him!' There was a mad scramble as everyone jumped to get on board, Garvey's jeep was away first, the other hard behind. The sound dwindled into the night..
Devlin said, 'Right, let's get out of it then,' and he and Molly helped Ritter over the wall and started across the road.
.
Built in 1933, the Morris was still on the road only because of the wartime shortage of new cars. Her engine was virtually worn out and although she suited Vereker's requirements adequately enough, they were not those of Steiner that night. With his foot flat on the boards, the needle hovered on forty and obstinately refused to move beyond that point.
He had minutes only, not even that, for as he debated the merits of stopping suddenly and taking to the woods on foot, Garvey, in the lead jeep, started to fire its Browning. Steiner ducked over the wheel, bullets hammered through the body, the windscreen dissolved in a snowstorm of flying glass.
The Morris swerved to the right, smashed through some wooden railings and lumbered down a slope of young firs. The braking effect of these was such that the speed was not very great. Steiner got the car door open and tumbled out. He was on his feet in a moment, moving away through the trees into the darkness as the Morris went into the flooded waters of the marsh below and started to sink.
The jeeps skidded to a halt on the road above. Garvey was first out, going down the bank fast, the torch ready in his hand. As he reached the bank, the muddy waters of the marsh closed over the roof of the Morris.
He took off his helmet and started to unbuckle his belt and Krukowski, sliding down after him, grabbed him by the arm. 'Don't even think it. That isn't just water down there. The mud in some of these places is deep enough to swallow a man whole.'
Garvey nodded slowly. 'Yes, I suppose you're right.' He played his torch on the surface of the muddy pool where bubbles broke through, then turned and went back up the slope to radio
.
Kane and Corcoran were having supper in the ornate front drawing room, when the corporal from the radio room rushed in with the signal. Kane looked at it briefly then slid it across the polished surface of the table.
'My God, and he was pointing in this direction, you realize that?' Corcoran frowned in distaste. 'What a way for such a man to go.'
Kane nodded. He should have been pleased and felt curiously depressed. He said to the corporal, 'Tell Garvey to stay where he is, then get the motor pool to send some sort of recovery vehicle out to him. I want Colonel Steiner's body out of there.'
The corporal went out and Corcoran said, 'What about the other one and the Irishman?'
'I don't think we need worry. They'll turn up, but not here.' Kane sighed. 'No, in the end it was Steiner on his own, I think. The sort of man who never knows when to give up.'
Corcoran went to the sideboard and poured two large whiskies. He handed one to Kane. 'I won't say cheers because I think I know how you feel. A strange sense of personal loss.'
'Exactly.'
'I've been at this game for too long, I think.' Corcoran shivered and downed his whisky. 'Will you tell the Prime Minister or shall I?'
'Your privilege, I fancy, sir.' Kane managed a smile. 'I'd better let the men know.'
When he went out of the front door it was pouring with rain and he stood at the top of the steps in the porch and shouted, 'Corporal Bleeker?'
Bleeker ran out of the darkness within a few moments and came up the steps. His combat jacket was soaked, his helmet shiny with rain and the dark camouflage cream on his face had streaked.
Kane said, 'Garvey and his boys got Steiner back along the coast road. Spread the word.'
Bleeker said, 'That's it then. Do we stand down, sir?'
'No, but you can phase the guard system now. Work it so you get some time off in turns for a hot meal and so on.'
Bleeker started down the steps and vanished into the darkness. The Major stayed there for quite some time, staring out into the rain and then finally turned and went back inside.
.
The cottage at Hobs End was in total darkness as Devlin, Molly and Ritter Neumann approached. They paused by the wall and Devlin whispered. 'It looks quiet enough to me.'
'Not worth the risk,' Ritter whispered.
But Devlin, thinking of the S-phone, said stubbornly, 'And bloody daft we'd be and no one in the place. You two keep moving along the dyke. I'll catch you up.'
He slipped away before either of them could protest, and went across the yard cautiously and listened at the window. All was quiet, only the rain falling, not a chink of light anywhere. The front door opened to his touch with a slight creak and he moved into the hall, the Sten gun ready.
The living room door stood ajar, a few embers from the dying fire glowing redly on the hearth. He stepped inside and knew instantly that he had made a very bad mistake. The door slammed behind him, the muzzle of a Browning was rammed into the side of his neck and the Sten plucked from his hand.
'Hold it right there,' Jack Rogan said. 'All right, Fergus, let's have a little light on the situation.'
A match flared as Fergus Grant touched the wick of the oil lamp and replaced the glass chimney. Rogan put his knee into Devlin's back and sent him staggering across the room. 'Let's have a look at you.'
Devlin half-turned, a foot on the hearth. He put a hand on the mantelpiece. 'I haven't had the honour.'
'Chief Inspector Rogan. Inspector Grant, Special Branch.'
'The Irish Section, is it?'
'That's right, son, and don't ask for my warrant card or I'll belt you.' Rogan sat on the edge of the table, holding his Browning against his thigh. 'You know, you've been a very naughty boy from what I hear.'
'Do you tell me?' Devlin said, leaning a little further into the hearth, knowing that even if he got to the Walther his chances were of the slimmest. Whatever Rogan might be doing. Grant was taking no chances and had him covered.
'Yes, you really give me a pain, you people.' Rogan said. 'Why can't you stay back there in the bogs where you belong?'
'It's a thought,' Devlin said.
Rogan took a pair of handcuffs out of his coat pocket. 'Get over here.'
A stone crashed through the window on the other side of the blackout curtain and both policemen turned in alarm. Devlin's hand reached for the Walther hanging on the nail at the back of the beam that supported the chimney breast. He shot Rogan in the head, knocking him back off the table, but Grant was already turning. He got off one wild shot that caught the Irishman in th
e right shoulder and Devlin fell back in the easy chair, still firing, shattering the young inspector's left arm, putting another bullet into the shoulder on the same side.
Grant fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor. He seemed in deep shock and gazed across the room uncomprehendingly at Rogan lying on the other side of the table. Devlin picked up the Browning and stuffed it in his waistband, then went to the door, took down the carrier bag and emptied the potatoes on the floor. The small canvas bag at the bottom contained the S-phone and a few other odds and ends and he slung it over his shoulder.
Jack Higgins - Eagle Has Landed Page 40
