A House on the Rhine

by Frances Faviell

  XXVII

  THE body of the tourist had been found. The current had carried it, just as Leo had foreseen, far down the river, until it had stuck in some reeds. The papers said merely, “The body of an unknown man . . . The police are making investigations.” The fact that there were no identity papers or wallet, no personal item of any kind on the man, and also that there were injuries to the head, suggested foul play.

  Leo read all this in the papers with amusement. There was absolutely nothing to connect him with the crime. Of that he was certain. He had thought of everything. He remembered that last wretched business with which he had been connected. His chief—for he had belonged to another gang before he had started his own—had slipped up on the jeweller, and the river police had discovered the body caught in the reeds a few minutes after he had been thrown there. Things had been pretty hot for a time. They had left the man’s card, his business card, on him, having overlooked a small pocket. They had taken the keys of his shop from his ring, and were all round there looting the stuff when the police, warned by the river patrol, had arrived. Leo had only been a look-out then, and he had got away at once. The others had been caught there and then. His former chief was still in gaol. Leo had himself been sent to prison, but only for a few months. He had been two years younger then, and nothing had really been proved against him. There had only been the word of the others, who were determined that he should not go free if they were gaoled.

  Leo had learned a lot from that slip-up. He had, for instance, made a study of the river and its currents. He knew where not to throw a body in. He had gone over the tourist’s clothes minutely; he was satisfied that there was no clue whatsoever to his identity. Eddie had said that the man was on a long business trip, he would not be missed in his home town for some time. As to the caretaker, the police were still “making investigations,” as the papers always said.

  Hank had killed that old man. Hank alone. He had done it unaided, from panic. Leo was keeping that as a hold over Hank, who was becoming too big for his boots. It was time he got a reminder. He had helped cosh the tourist too, but the three of them had worked together over the man—it was a joint killing. Somehow it seemed better when there were several in a crime, it meant that one would not take the consequences alone if caught.

  The country had only recently done away with the death penalty. Leo thought this rather funny.

  The British in whose zone they were living, for instance, still had the death penalty in their own country. It made the vanquished seem one up in civilization on their victors. There had been a lot of talk when the decision was made. He and his friends were far too clever to try robbing Occupation houses, as so many others did; it meant that they might come up before an Occupation Military Court, and that could mean anything. No, this lad was too clever for that. Leo had a tremendous opinion of himself, which grew with each successful escapade concluded by his gang. He spent a lot of time studying in his own mind the characters of its members. He flattered himself that he was quite a psychologist. When the Occupying troops had first come, he had made friends with some of them. Two of the officers had taught him English, lent him books, given him food and money. He had soon sized them up. They did not like the position they were in. They wanted to be liked. They grew fond of this lad who ran errands for them, sold their cigarettes and coffee for them and generally made himself useful. They found out that he was homeless and had taken him into the Mess as a kind of help to the barman and waiters. This was how Leo had acquired the education of which Hank was so envious. Both the officers had taught him things, and one of the Belgians had taught him French in return for help with his German. He was quick at imitating and intent on taking advantage of every opportunity. He was a boy on his own, alone in the world; his parents dead, his relatives cut off from him by the Iron Curtain. The officers had more or less adopted him while they had been stationed in the district. He had been a good-looking child—he was now a good-looking youth. The officers had gone back to their own country. They still wrote to Leo, and he still answered. He began to laugh now as he thought of their horror should they know what he was doing.

  Well, in a way it was their fault. They had accustomed him to an easy life. Before they came he had lived from hand to mouth, sleeping in bunkers and thieving scraps from anyone and anywhere. From them he had got used to money. They had always given him a percentage of the Black Market deals he did for them. They had never had enough money. Their pay simply did not cover the luxuries they needed. He had been really upset when they had left to return to their own country. Life had been terribly empty for a time. Then he had taken up with that first gang, and some of the fun and excitement with which his life with the officers had been filled came back to him.

  Leo was in Eddie’s room in the town reading the papers when he saw the bit about the finding of the body. Of course, he didn’t actually know that it was the tourist’s, but from the description it seemed pretty obvious. Eddie, when he came in after the evening’s work, had a plan all set for the following Friday. A man who had been coming regularly for the last few evenings to drink and sometimes dine at the restaurant had asked him to find him a girl friend. Eddie had promised one for the following Friday.

  “O.K.,” said Leo, “Katie can do this job. It’s her turn. Besides, we’ve no one else.”

  “Sorry,” said Eddie laconically, “but he wants a blonde, young and innocent. I told him there’s a dearth of virgins, but he’s an optimist!”

  “Well, we can’t let that by,” said Leo. “Do you mean he’s a plum?”

  “Right—and ripe for the picking too. We’ve got to find him a blonde. He carries thousands in notes on him.”

  Leo sat back in an uncomfortable chair and put his long legs on the table. He screwed up his eyes and appeared to think.

  “It’s a pity that Leila’s out of action,” said Eddie gloomily. “She’s blonde enough, and although a bit soiled she’d pass as new goods all right; she’s young enough.”

  “She’s got her arm in plaster still. We went a bit far with the works on her.”

  “What about getting one of the dolls dyed? What about having Katie dyed blonde?”

  “No good,” said Leo shortly, “she’s got the look of a regular.”

  “Well then, what about Trudi? Isn’t she back yet?”

  “No, not until Saturday. Can’t you put this deal off until then?”

  “No good—he’s off again then. Which makes Friday a particularly good night. He’s booked to leave early the next morning. Well, he’ll just miss his plane; that’s all.”

  “I’ve got it,” shouted Leo suddenly. “The little plaster saint . . . little Snow-white. The father’s crowned her with a halo and the whole family are besotted with her. She looks the part—and what’s more, she’s untouched goods.”

  “How d’you know?” asked Eddie curiously. “Been having a try?”

  At the memory of his unsuccessful encounter with Krista Leo’s face darkened. He would pay the stuck-up miss out for her obvious revulsion of him. At the same time he would put paid to the refusal of Hank and Katie to bring her into the gang.

  “She’s absolutely what we want,” he went on, ignoring Eddie’s taunt, “but it’s going to be the very devil to get her.”

  “She’ll never do it if she’s really a plaster saint,” sneered Eddie. “What’s the use of an unwilling decoy?”

  “She won’t be unwilling when I’ve finished with her,” said Leo quietly. Eddie looked sharply at him. He thought Leo had gone to greater lengths with Leila than was wise . . . was he going even further with this girl? Eddie had heard of the adopted daughter of this large family, everyone had heard of her. Wasn’t it a bit dangerous using her?

  “Leave it to me,” said Leo loftily; “the thing’s as good as fixed for Friday night.”

  The following evening he sent a signal for Katie, and when she came to the shelter he put his plan to her. She was adamant. She would not do it. Then, when she heard that
Leo wanted Krista for a wealthy tourist, she was mollified. She began to think how the thing could be worked. She hated Krista so much that it would be a wonderful thrill for her to know that the prudish girl whom her father adored, and even her brother Hank was now crazy about was to be smirched and rolled in the dirt.

  It would be very difficult to get Krista to the restaurant, even more so to make her decoy the man. She would have to be got there by a trick; no other way would do. What kind of trick would Krista fall for most easily? Suddenly Katie had it. Hank was due at the shelter very shortly. He would have to be made to help.

  Hank, however, when he did come, refused blankly to contemplate using Krista. He appeared horrified at the idea.

  “She’d never agree,” he said curtly.

  “She isn’t going to be asked to agree,” snapped Leo, “she’s going to be got to Eddie’s room. I’ll see to the rest. There are ways of making people willing. You saw what happened to Leila.” He said this with an eye on Hank’s horrified face.

  “You aren’t going to use the works on Krista?” Hank’s voice was so shocked that Katie said furiously, “And why not? Why should she get off everything?”

  “I won’t stand for it. She doesn’t belong to the gang. She’s never taken the oath. Leila had. She got what she deserved for breaking it. This is different. I won’t stand for it.”

  “Won’t?” said Leo in a dangerously quiet voice. “Won’t? I should think again if I were you. Who’s boss of this gang? You or me? I give the orders here and you obey them. And don’t you forget it. I can put you behind bars any day I like. Who killed the old buffer? You. You alone.”

  Neither Hank nor Katie had dared to tell Leo about the visit of the policeman with the belt. He had been furious about Hank and the twins having been brought home by the policeman when they were drunk. Hank’s face paled at Leo’s threat about turning him in for the murder of the caretaker. Katie was white with fear. She saw that she would have to count Hank out on this deal. Jealous as she was of Leo’s interest in Krista, she would get her there. She would do it to protect her own skin.

  Hank went on ahead to see that the motor cycles were all right. Katie lingered behind. She said to Leo, “He’s soft. He’s as besotted with her as Pa is. We’ll have to think up some way of making him harden up.”

  “I’ll put the fear of prison in him! That ought to outweigh little Snow-White,” retorted Leo brutally.

  “Get a move on,” shouted Hank. He was waiting for Katie. They were to join the rest of the gang in the shelter. Although the others were not in this new deal there were things to discuss.

  Leo got the general business over quickly. The gang were sulky. They did not like this new idea of only one or two members being in on each deal. They had all become accustomed to having money. They needed it now. They said so.

  “You’ve got to wait,” their leader insisted. “I’ve got a grand new scheme. Just give me time to work it out. As soon as we’ve got the cash from this next thing, I’ll tell you about it.”

  He got rid of them. But there was an uneasy feeling that all was not well. Dissatisfied members were no use to Leo. Hank was getting too big for his boots. He’d have to take him down a peg or two. He’d deal with the youngsters later on.

  “They’re fed up,” observed Hank as he and Katie were left alone with Leo in the shelter. “I told you this decoy scheme’s no good. It’s dangerous and it makes the others jealous and disgruntled.”

  “Well, that’s my business. I run this show. And I’m not having any of your soft scruples about little Snow-White getting in the way of a good haul from this old mug. You’ve got to get the girl for Friday. Understand?”

  “But I thought you agreed to count her out.”

  “I may or may not use her for the mug. It depends on how she behaves to me. She may be so sweet that I’ll be as jealous as you are!” Leo roared with laughter at his own perception of Hank’s reluctance to bring Krista under the influence of his chief.

  “I won’t do it!” asserted Hank.

  “Very well. I will,” snapped Katie.

  “I don’t care which of you persuades little sister to come into the spider’s web but she’s got to be there. Eight o’clock sharp on Friday night. Understand? And if she’s not, well you know how pleased the police will be to have the killer of the old man named. There’s been a lot of outcry in the press because he’s still at large.”

  Katie had been thinking hard. She did not trust Hank. She had a plan. It was simple enough and very clever. Katie knew Krista. Knew that in spite of her own spiteful behaviour to the girl Krista was so innately sweet that she would go to anyone ill or needing her help.

  Katie was utterly unscrupulous in what she intended to do. She needed money urgently if she was to do something about this baby. Moe might talk of Katie doing something about it, but she would never countenance what Katie meant to do. Moe loved children. She might grumble about having so many but she liked to have a lot of young, budding life round her.

  Once rid of the child there were possibilities. The Frenchman, for instance. He might be induced to take her to Paris. He liked her as she was. No one else did. She wanted passionately to be loved. Had she told any member of her family this they would not have believed her. She had started life off on the wrong foot. She wanted to start again. Without any encumbrances. She had quite a hoard of money hidden away in the summer-house. It was difficult to get there now and count it. Pa was always in the place. Unless she slipped out in the early hours of the morning it was ten to one that she’d find Pa there smoking his pipe. He sat with his feet right over the loose board in the floor. Katie laughed whenever she thought of it.

  “Well, I leave it to you,” finished Leo in a hard voice. “You’d better not let me down.”

  The wind was howling, and the branches of the trees swaying against the broken shelter-roof made a strange knocking sound. They listened intently when Leo said suddenly, “Keep still. Listen. I swear I heard someone moving then . . . just outside . . .”

  “It’s only a branch,” whispered Katie a minute later as she peeped outside. “There’s not a soul about.”

  “I’m sure I heard a cough or a choke—like a child makes, then light steps running,” insisted Leo.

  “Well, what if you did? This is a fairly public path. We’re damned lucky not to have been discovered before,” sneered Hank, who had never approved of Leo’s choice of a hide-out.

  “I’ve found a new place,” announced Leo shortly. “You’ll be hearing about it next week. Hank, you have a look outside. I have a feeling there is someone about.”

  “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” reported Hank scornfully. “Getting windy? Have a drink and forget it.”

  They sat there for a while longer drinking.

  On the way home Katie said to Hank, “You’ve got to fall in with Leo’s plans. You’re a damn fool to mind about Krista. Fancy you being soft over a girl. Think of those iron bars Leo spoke about. They won’t be soft. And you won’t see little Snow-White either if you spend the rest of your life behind them.”

  “Shut up.” Hank was driven beyond endurance by her taunts. “Don’t forget that it was your belt found under the old man’s body. Have you thought of that? What would Leo say if he knew the police have your belt?”

  “That blasted little Robert,” swore Katie, “I’ll pay him out for that.”

  “I’ve put the fear of the knife into him already,” snapped Hank. “You’d better see that Leila’s mouth’s kept closed.”

  “Eddie’s done that,” said Katie sullenly.

  “If you hurt Krista I’ll get you. Don’t think I’m going to stand for it. I’m not. I’ll agree to her going there because I’ve no choice. You’d better both watch out if you hurt her.”

  Katie said nothing. She knew that Leo would take good care that Hank was prevented from interfering. Leo no longer trusted Hank. Hank no longer trusted her. And she? She began to laugh. She hated them all. All of them.

/>   Anna was in a deep sleep when she was awakened by Robert. His hands and knees were bleeding, his face was wild and almost frantic with fear. She would not wake up. He pulled her long fair hair. He dared not make any noise. Krista slept in the next room with Franz Joseph. Tonight Peppi was there too. He had had to be terribly careful not to wake them when he crept out two hours ago. At last at his shakings and hair pullings Anna woke up, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

  “’Tisn’t time to get up yet, Moe,” she grumbled; then finding it quite dark she said sharply, “Is that you, Katie?”

  “No—no—it’s me, Anna. Listen, please listen, it’s Robert, Anna.” The child’s voice was urgent. Anna sat up.

  “Robert!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Whatever’s the matter?”

  Since the episode of Robert’s back, Anna had looked after him very carefully. She was afraid for his safety. The terror in his voice now alarmed her.

  “Quick, quick, listen, Anna. Katie’ll be back soon. Listen.” And into Anna’s incredulous ears Robert poured the story of a plot against Krista. All about a gang. Hank, Katie, and that Leo.

  To the boy’s excited urgent anxiety Anna seemed slow and dense. She made him repeat everything over several times. She was so sleepy that she just couldn’t decide whether she was dreaming it all.

  Finally she got out of bed, poured cold water over her face and wrists and sat down with Robert on the bed. He was shivering and whimpering and in a fever of anxiety lest the others should come back before he had explained the urgency of the matter to Anna, and begged her to do something about Krista.