[21]
Charley, the wireless operator, sat in a top-floor room of the Casa do Sul. The fronds of the palms outside the window stirred in the morning breeze. Charley was engaged in manicuring his nails when Shakespeare burst in.
"Get going! To M.I.5. Very urgent. Real name of Jonas the merchant is Jean Leblanc stop request instructions."
Charley put the message into code, switched on the transmitter and began to send Morse signals.
Meanwhile Shakespeare sat down in front of a big loudspeaker and pressed down one of seven keys. It bore the legend library microphone.
The instrument clicked and crackled. Then Shakespeare listened in to the following dialogue between Thomas and the fair Estrella.
"... But how do you make out I'm to blame for your danger, darling? How could I.. ."
"You ought never to have come here."
"But I was half out of my mind with fright and anxiety—I thought I was going to die . . ."
"You ought never to have mentioned my name."
Shakespeare smiled thinly.
"Why not? Why not?"
"Because no one must know my name."
"But you're a Frenchman, a friend of the British, an ally!"
"All the same ... keep quiet now." Footsteps sounded.
"... I'm pretty sure there's one of those things somewhere here ... ah, yes. Here it is, under the table." The loud-speaker whistled shrilly. There was a startling crash. Then the line went dead.
Shakespeare remarked with admiration: "There's a sly devil for you! Finds the mike and tears it out!" A few minutes later he saw the operator's fingers flying as he took down a message. "Answer from M.I.5 already?"
Charley nodded. As he finished decoding the message from London his healthy young features lost color. He muttered: "Good God!"
"What's up?" Shakespeare snatched the slip from his hand. He read:
MI 5 to shakespeare lisbon alleged jean leblanc really thomas lieven german intelligence agent has just played us up with false lists of french secret service members keep this man in custody at all costs special agent on way to you by courier aircraft comply with his instructions message ends
Shakespeare dashed the slip to the floor with a resounding oath and ran from the room. He raced down the stairs to the library, taking the steps two at a time.
In the hall a sad spectacle met his gaze. The heavy front door stood wide open. So did that of the library. Between them lay a motionless figure, face downward on a magnificent oriental rug. It was the highly respectable butler.
Shakespeare rushed into the library. The room was empty. A whiff of perfume still hung in the air. Shakespeare rushed out into the park. A red taxi was just getting on the move, with screeching gears. Shakespeare rushed back into the hall. The highly respectable butler had just regained consciousness. He sat on the rug groaning and feeling his neck tenderly.
"How on earth did this happen?"
"The man's a judo expert, sir. When I saw him coming out of the library with the lady I tried to stop him. But he acted like lightning. Threw me down and I lost my senses, sir ..."
[22]
The telephone bell rang and rang and rang.
Thomas Lieven, still in dressing gown and slippers, came padding into Estrella's bedroom. During the last quarter of an hour the driver of the red taxi and several passersby had been as amazed at his extraordinary get-up as Estrella's maid. But Thomas, who had all his life dressed with such extreme elegance, cared nothing for their astonishment. He didn't care what anybody thought now. He knew his life was at stake.
He picked up the receiver. "Hallo?"
Then he smiled in relief, for he knew the voice of the speaker. It belonged to a friend, the only friend now left to him.
"Leblanc? Lindner here ..."
"Thank God it's you, Lindner. I was just going to ring you. Where are you?"
"At the hotel. Listen, Leblanc. I've been trying to get you for hours."
"No wonder! I've had a disagreeable experience, several of them in fact ... Lindner, you must help me. ... I'll have to lie low until our boat goes ..."
"Leblanc..."
". . . I've got to keep out of sight, I..."
"Leblanc, let me speak, for heaven's sake!"
"Well?"
"The boat won't be leaving."
Thomas dropped onto the Consul's bed. She had come up
behind him, her little fist jammed in terror against her seductive mouth. Thomas groaned. 'What did you say?"
'The boat won't be leaving."
The sweat stood on Thomas Lieven's brow. "What's happened, then?"
The Viennese banker's voice sounded hysterical. "I had had an uneasy feeling for some days. The shipping company was behaving very strangely. I didn't tell you, as I didn't want to worry you. But this morning I found out. . ."
"Found out what?"
"That the boat has been seized by the Germans."
Thomas closed his eyes.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" cried the unhappy Consul in a panic.
Thomas spoke hoarsely into the mouthpiece. "What about another boat?"
"Impossible! All accommodation's booked for months ahead. We'll just have to face it, Leblanc. We're stuck here in Lisbon—hallo—Leblanc—can you hear me?"
"I can hear every word," said Thomas Lieven. "I'll be in touch with you, Lindner. Good-bye for now. Keep your tail up if you can."
He rang off and clapped his hands to his forehead. Suddenly he could smell chloroform again. Suddenly he felt sick again. Giddy. Weary to death.
What was to be done now?
Now he was caught in the trap. Now he could no longer count on escaping the lot of them, the Germans, the British, the French. He had tricked them all and now they had him.
"Jean, Jean!" The voice of the fair Consul rang in his ears. He glanced up. She had fallen to her knees beside him, shuddering and sobbing. "Speak, speak! I beg you! Do tell poor Estrella what has happened!"
He gazed at her in silence' Then his face cleared. He said in a low tone: "Send the maid away, darling."
"The maid ..."
"I want to be alone with you."
"But what about lunch?"
"I'll prepare lunch myself," said Thomas Lieven. He stood i up like a boxer who has been heavily punished but by noI means knocked out and is coming up for the next round. "I've got to think over everything very carefully now. And I always have my best ideas when I'm cooking."
He made a Hungarian lee so. Deep in thought he slit half a
pound of onions into rings. Quietly and gently he shelled a couple of pounds of green paprika pods.
The Consul watched him. She was so nervous that she kept fiddling with her bracelet, an extremely fine one of heavy gold, set with diamonds of the purest water.
Estrella, shaking her head, exclaimed: "You're so quiet and casual. How can you cook at such a time ..."
He smiled with compressed lips. His eye fell on the broad bracelet. Its stones sparkled and glowed, as they caught the light, in white, blue, green, yellow and red tints. He slit the paprika pods into finger-length strips.
"Why don't you speak to me, Jean?"
"I'm thinking, my sweet."
"Jean, why won't you trust me? Why won't you tell me the truth? Why do you believe you're surrounded by dangers? Why are you even afraid of the British?"
He began to skin tomatoes. "The truth, my sweet, is so frightful that I simply can't tell it to you."
"Oh!" She was rotating her bracelet quite fast now. It flashed and gleamed like fire. "But whatever it is I want to help and protect you—trust me, Jean. I'll do anything for you." •
"Anything? Really anything?"
"Really anything, my dearest!"
He lowered the tomato he was holding. His face showed cordial affection and quiet confidence. "In that case," said Thomas Lieven in a friendly tone, "after lunch we'll first rest for a little while and then you can report me."
It was not surprising that these words start
led the fair Estrella, who at first made no reply. She stared at Thomas Lieven with wide eyes and open mouth.
'What did you say?" she gasped, as soon as she was able to speak. "Report you? Report you to whom?"
"To the police, my darling."
"But, for heaven's sake, why?"
"Because I have robbed you, my dear," replied Thomas Lieven. "Now what did I do with that garlic sausage?"
MENU
CLPs/Iushrooms on (Toast Hungarian Lecso (Pears and Cheese
9 SEPTEMBER 1940
During the preparation of this Hungarian meal Thomas conceived the idea that saved his skin.
Mushrooms on Toast
Wash small, firm mushrooms, remove any blemishes and slice. Braise in butter till tender. Salt and pepper. Fry thin slices of white bread in butter on both sides. Cover the fried bread with the braised mushrooms. Sprinkle them with lemon juice and finely chopped parsley. Serve on warmed plates.
This dish can be made extra special if the mushrooms are braised with chopped shallots to which sweet or sour cream is then added. The mushrooms on the fried bread can also be sprinkled with cheese and placed in the oven for a short time to bake. But Thomas Lieven decided to use the first-mentioned method of preparation, as in this case the main dish was a substantial one and he only needed a light appetizer to precede it
Hungarian Lecso
Slice half a pound of onions into rings. Dice a quarter of a pound each of streaky bacon and garlic sausage. Cut one pound of lamb into pieces slightly larger than those of the bacon and sausage. Remove, seeds from two pounds of green peppers and slice them into half-inch strips. Peel one pound of tomatoes.
Fry the onions, bacon and sausage together. Then add the meat and fry it from all sides. Next add the peppers and a little later the tomatoes. Cover the saucepan and braise over a low flame till all is tender. Half an hour before serving add half a cupful of rice. This ingredient merely thickens the gravy a little. If more rice is used the dish will become too mushy. Season with salt and red pepper. Serve with slices of French bread.
Pears and Cheese
Ripe, firm but juicy pears are served with a mild cheese such as Gervais or Bel Paese. At table each person peels a pear, cuts it into portions convenient for the mouth and eats this portion with one of cheese, both being placed in the mouth together. This combination of fresh fruit and cheese makes a particularly tasty and satisfactory final course after a heavy, highly seasoned main dish.
it back to her a long time ago because I could not find a purchaser."
question. Senhora Rodrigues says that she has not got it now. Can you get it or do you know where it has been deposited?
answer. No, because Senhora Rodrigues has hidden it, in order to do me an injury. She wants to have me arrested.
question. Why?
answer. Jealousy.
remarks. The foreigner Leblanc appeared sullen, defiant and arrogant while being questioned. At times he uttered certain threats. He accused the complainant of immorality and grossly insulted the examining inspector. Finally he pretended to have lost his wits, laughed, talked nonsense and sang French comic songs.
Sergeants Alcantara and Branco state: "The foreigner resisted arrest. He had to be handcuffed. While taking him to the station we noticed several suspicious looking persons loitering in the street in front of the villa and watching everything we did very closely."
further remarks. It may be assumed that the foreigner Leblanc is connected with the Lisbon underworld. He will be retained in custody overnight at this station. Early tomorrow morning he will be transferred in the prison van to police headquarters and there turned over to the Department of Petty Larceny for disposal.
[2]
It was nearly six o'clock in the evening when the beautiful if not particularly intelligent Consul and German-hater, Estrella Rodrigues, suffering equally from exhaustion and excitement, returned to the Rua Marques da Fronteira. She went by taxi.
With heaving bosom, feverishly glittering eyes and flushed cheeks she reflected, as she sat in the cab, that everything had gone just as Jean had desired and foreseen. But, good heavens, what terrible situations that incalculable, wonderful and mysterious man landed her in ...
They had locked him up. He would be safe from his pursuers in prison. But why were they after him? He had never told her. He had just kissed her and begged her to trust him.
What else can I do, she thought desperately. I love him so. As such a brave Frenchman he may be engaged in goodness
knows what secret mission here. Yes, I shall trust him and do everything he has asked me to. I shall put the bracelet in that hiding place in the cellar, go every day to the harbor and try to book an overseas passage for him and never mention him to anybody. If I manage to book him a passage to South America, I'll rush to the magistrate, show him the bracelet, say I only mislaid it and withdraw my accusation ... oh, how terrible the days and nights will seem now without him, without my dear, sweet, beloved Jean ...
The taxi stopped. The Consul alighted and paid the driver. As she crossed the pavement to her garden gate a pallid, careworn man wearing a shabby suit with a pepper and salt pattern stepped from behind a palm, raised his ancient hat to Estrella and addressed her in broken Portuguese. "Senhora Rodrigues, I urgently request you to grant me an interview."
"No, no," cried the voluptuous Consul, recoiling.
"I must insist," he retorted, following her and lowering his voice. "It concerns Jean Leblanc."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Walter Lewis," he replied. "I come from London." This last statement was true. He had landed an hour before. But his first statement was false. His name was Peter Lovejoy and he was the man who had been sent by his chief at M.I. 5 to put a final stop to the activities of that infernal nuisance Thomas Lieven ...
"What do you want with me, Mr. Lewis?"
"We want to know where M. Leblanc is."
"What has that got to do with you?"
The man who had called himself Lewis did his best to arouse Estrella's sympathy by gazing at her with lusterless eyes rendered dim and melancholy by low wages and undernourishment. "He has betrayed me. He has betrayed my country. He is a scoundrel."
"Silence!"
"He is a person devoid of honor, morality and decency ..."
"Go away! Or I shall scream for help!"
"How can you bear to help a German? Do you want Hitler to win the war?"
"Hit ..." The name stuck in the swan-white throat of the lady, that frenzied gambler who had not been exactly dogged by good fortune. "What was that you said?"
"I said, how can you bear to help a German?"
"A German? No! No!" The Consul clapped both swan-white hands to her forehead. "You are lying!"
"I am not! That wretched fascist's real name is Thomas Lieven!"
Estrella almost fainted. But she"thought, Jean a German? Impossible! Inconceivable! After all we have been through together ... his charm, his tenderness, his ... No! He must be French!
She moaned: "Impossible!"
"He has cheated you, senhora, as he cheated me and all of us. Your Jean Leblanc is a German agent!"
"That's an awful thing to say!"
"He's a reptile! He must be made harmless, senhora."
The Consul threw back her beautiful head and stiffened her beauteous figure. "Follow me to the house, Mr. Lewis. Show me your proofs. I want facts, plain, hard facts. If you can supply me with them, then I'll..."
"Yes, senhora, yes?"
"I'll have my revenge! No German is ever going to laugh at Estrella Rodrigues, not if I know it!"
[3]
"Manha" —that was the word Thomas Lieven was to hear most often during the weeks qf his imprisonment. Tomorrow! 'Tomorrow," promised the warders. 'Tomorrow," promised the magistrate. "Tomorrow" was the word with which the prisoners consoled themselves. They had been waiting for months for something, anything, to happen to them.
Nothing did happen. But perhaps something
would happen ' tomorrow. Warders, magistrates and prisoners alike shrugged their shoulders fatalistically, smiled mysteriously and repeated a catchword which might well serve as the motto of all southern penal systems. "Eh-eh> ate a manha!* 9 It might be translated: "Tomorrow is tomorrow, and tomorrow—well, good heavens, anything might happen before then, so don't let's anticipate."
After Thomas Lieven's arrest he was first taken to the Criminal Investigation Remand Prison on the Torel, one of the seven hills on which Lisbon is built. The Torel appeared to be quite seriously overcrowded.
Accordingly, after a few days Thomas Lieven was transferred to the Aljube, a medieval building of five stories in the oldest quarter of the city. The arms of the Archbishop Dom Miguel de Castro were carved above the main entrance. That prelate, as all cultivated people are aware, sojourned in this
vale of tears from 1568 to 1625 and relegated to this dreadful old dungeon members of his cloth who had been found guilty of penal offences.
There must have been, thought Thomas Lieven on his arrival, a high percentage of such clerical sinners in sixteenth-century Portugal, for the Aljube was a prison of monstrous size.
It now received lay offenders only, among whom were many allegedly undesirable aliens. But at least an equal number had simply fallen foul of paragraphs in the Portuguese statute book which were entirely unconcerned with politics. Some were still under remand. Others had already been sentenced. They were to be found sharing a cell, in solitary confinement or else in cells reserved for "well-to-do" prisoners.
The latter occupied the higher floors and had the most comfortable accommodation. All the windows overlooked the courtyard. An adjacent leather goods factory, run by a certain Teodoro dos Repos, involved the production of certain unpleasant smells which greatly afflicted, especially in hot weather, the ill-to-do prisoners on the lower floors.
Life was more tolerable for the well-to-do on the upper stories. They paid a weekly rent, just as in an ordinary hotel. The size of the figure was calculated in accordance with the amount of bail required by the remand court. It was exhorbi-tant. But just as in an ordinary hotel the best service available was provided for the well-to-do. The staff made every effort to anticipate their wishes. Newspapers and cigarettes were supplied as a matter of course. And the prisoners could also, as a matter of course, have their meals brought in from neighboring restaurants recommended by the warders.
The Monte Cristo Cover-Up Page 17
