In Pursuit of Platinum: The Shocking Secret of World War II (Ben Peters Thriller series Book 1)

by Vic Robbie

  The man studied them before speaking with a thick accent they found hard to understand.

  ‘My name’s Sebastian, so you want to go to Spain?’ He said it as if they were contemplating a routine tourist ramble.

  Alena sprang to her feet, a big smile spreading across her face, and Sebastian put up a hand to stop her from rushing up to him and lifting him off his feet.

  ‘It’ll be very difficult.’ Sebastian paused as if counting all the obstacles in his mind. ‘I can lead you over the mountains. No problem. It’s whether you’re fit enough.’

  ‘We can do it,’ Ben said.

  ‘Are you with child?’ Sebastian peered at her.

  ‘Yes… I mean no,’ she said flustered, glancing at the sleeping Freddie. ‘No, I’m not pregnant.’ She laughed and shook her head to emphasise it. ‘I can climb as well as the next man.’

  Sebastian followed her gaze. ‘Ah, we’ve a problem, I think. A big problem.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Concern crept into her voice.

  ‘We can’t take a child up there.’ Sebastian gestured with his head. ‘Impossible.’ He waved away her pleas.

  ‘I can carry him if necessary,’ Ben interjected.

  Sebastian rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘And after all he’ll be riding in the car for most of the time.’

  Alena shot him an angry glance.

  Sebastian pulled out a chair and flopped down with a sigh. ‘You said a car,’ he chuckled.

  ‘I did, we have to take it with us.’

  Sebastian snorted in disbelief. ‘What are you going to do, carry it on your back?’ He laughed, a high-pitched whinny like a nervous horse. As if to add weight to what he was about to say, he got to his feet. ‘The car has to stay here. Without it, you have a chance of Spain and freedom. Although the mountains may look beautiful from a distance, they can be dangerous places. There are brown bears up here you know. Funny things can happen and if we attempted to take a car it would be suicide.’

  ‘If I can’t take the car, I’ll have to find another way,’ he said. ‘I’ve no other choice.’

  Sebastian started to worry about his money.

  ‘Perhaps the lady and the boy would like to go on without you?’

  Alena looked at Ben and at Freddie and back at Ben again.

  Sebastian edged towards the door and touched his forehead in a salute. ‘So I will bid you goodnight.’ He kept moving trying not to show his haste, hoping he could make it before they asked for their money back.

  ‘No, wait,’ she said.

  Sebastian was on the threshold of the door ready to make a quick exit. Once outside in the dark, they’d never find him.

  ‘The car’s vital to us.’

  Sebastian shook his head and edged out. Another step and he would be gone.

  ‘Would you take this?’ She walked over to him pulling something off her hand.

  ‘A ruby ring?’ Sebastian said, peering at it.

  ‘No, it’s much more valuable, it’s a red diamond ring. It’s worth more than the car itself. Would you accept it as payment?’ She flashed Ben a determined look. ‘But you’d have to agree to take the car as well.’

  Sebastian looked it over and held it up to the light from the fire before relaxing and smiling again. ‘Let me see this car,’ he said and led the way outside.

  He walked around the Bentley several times muttering and giving it a slap on one of the wings with the palm of his hand and nodded as if agreeing with his own argument before returning to the inn.

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Sebastian slipped the ring onto the little finger of his left hand, ‘but we must go now.’

  A pleased Sebastian left them to prepare for the journey. He’d decided before he arrived at the inn to lead them and the car over the old cattle trail. It would be a good night’s work. The red diamond would be a welcome bonus added to the money he’d already pocketed less the commission paid to the innkeeper. The car, the woman and the boy were far too valuable a prize to let go.

  38

  IN the intermittent moonlight, sebastian worked hard in an area of what appeared to be impenetrable foliage about fifty yards from the inn. He’d placed a lantern on the ground by his feet and used ropes he’d fastened around some branches to pull them to one side. Refusing Ben’s offer of help, Sebastian carried on working in a way that suggested he’d done it many times before. Eventually, he created an opening big enough for the Bentley to get through.

  ‘Voila.’ Sebastian turned to them pointing towards the opening. ‘The road to Spain.’

  Freddie jumped up and down clapping and shouting without knowing what he was celebrating and Alena calmed him down and put him in the back of the car.

  ‘We must be quick, are you ready to go?’ Sebastian picked up the lantern and looked up at the mountain.

  ‘We’re ready,’ Ben replied and she returned a hesitant smile.

  ‘Understand this,’ Sebastian said. ‘You must do what I tell you at all times. The ground will have crumbled away in places. It’s very dangerous. You must not use your headlamps, they could be seen from far away. Near here is a village where all the men are either gendarmes or smugglers.’

  He pointed into the darkness.

  ‘Often brothers in the same family are on opposing sides. If the gendarmes hear about us, we’re in trouble and if the smugglers discover what we’re up to you’ll lose the car and a lot more. Our only light will be my lantern and –’ he gestured towards the skies ‘– what there is of the moonlight. I’ll walk on ahead and you must follow me. If I swing my lamp to the right –’ he gave a demonstration ‘– you must move to your right. Understand?’

  They both nodded.

  ‘In some places,’ Sebastian continued, ‘we’ll be travelling along a track with big drops on the side. You must stay in the car because take a wrong step and you could fall hundreds of metres. One thing, never look down.’

  They bundled into the Bentley and in his haste to find reverse he crunched the gears making a horrendous metallic scraping noise.

  Sebastian wasted no time in setting off and they saw the lantern swinging as he started to climb away from the inn. Without the headlamps, he found it difficult to pick out a path and it was almost like driving blind. He had to put all his trust in Sebastian and concentrate on keeping the Bentley’s flying ‘B’ mascot aligned with the lantern as they drove at walking pace. The moon again slipped behind the clouds and in the dark it was only possible to tell the gradient ahead by the note of the engine. Alena sat forward in her seat with her face pressed up against the windscreen and for a time all they saw was the swing of the lantern. Sometimes it appeared to be moving away from them and he squeezed the accelerator and as the car speeded up, it bucked and shuddered over the rough terrain.

  Such was Ben’s concentration, he didn’t blink in case he missed a signal from the lantern as his eyes strained to pierce the darkness. Every so often, the clouds would part and the welcome moonlight lit up the path ahead and they both gasped in amazement. They were driving along a route that from below appeared impassable. And just as quickly night plunged them back into darkness.

  He could tell by the straining of the engine the climb was becoming much steeper and he worried about the effect the extra weight of the bullion was putting on the car. Ahead, Sebastian’s lantern signalled to move to the right and he turned the wheel having no idea what he was turning into. The light started swinging even more and he pulled harder on the wheel and the back of the car swung out. The wheels spun in the mud and for several seconds it seemed as if they were stuck and not going anywhere, then the car found traction and it lurched forward and upwards.

  For several hours, they drove in silence, the only noise being the heavy breathing of the sleeping Freddie and the comforting drone of the car’s engine. They followed Sebastian, adjusting to the swings of his lantern, and his eyes felt as if they’d been scraped by sandpaper. When the moonlight did peek out from behind its curtain of
cloud, it highlighted the towering beauty of the Pyrenees investing them with a mysterious glow yet far below the valleys were still dark.

  Suddenly the terrain changed and it sounded like gravel beneath the wheels. He could see nothing to his right, just black, and he realised they were moving along the side of the mountain. To his left and through the clouds was the dark blue of the night sky.

  Sebastian stopped and put down the lantern on the ground and walked back towards them. He pushed his head through Alena’s window. ‘There’s danger ahead,’ he reported. ‘Some of the track has gone. I don’t know if we can get through.’

  He stroked his chin, weighing up their options. ‘I’d suggest we turn back, for your safety you understand.’

  They both spoke as one. ‘We must go on.’

  ‘Very well, however you must realise, m’sieu, you and the car are most at risk.’

  ‘I have to, I’ve no other option.’

  ‘Then Madame you must walk with me and carry the child,’ Sebastian ordered. ‘If you stay by my side you’ll be safer.’

  Alena sighed and woke up a grumbling Freddie, coaxing him out of his warm bed on the back seat.

  ‘M’sieu, you must take the next stage very, very slowly. You understand?’

  Sebastian waited for his agreement.

  ‘You must keep your wheels straight on my line. Don’t let the wheels spin at any time. If you do, it could erode what is left of the track – and you’ll fall a very long way.’

  39

  FOR many, estoril was the centre of their new universe. Emperors and empresses, kings and queens, dukes and duchesses, counts and countesses, deposed presidents and tyrants, conmen and courtesans, and spies, they all congregated here for different reasons. And some came just for the natural spas where the healing waters bubbled out of the ground at a temperature of thirty-two degrees Celsius and were said to be able to heal broken bones. As royalty regarded it a suitable place to exile, it became known as the Coast of Kings. Most, like the Jews and refugees fleeing Nazism, saw it as the gateway to America, the jumping off point to freedom, and soon the town’s population doubled.

  Every night they partied, and partied hard as if it were to be their last, and for a brief time they felt untouched by a war ravaging the rest of Europe. Yet fear lurked behind the mask of gaiety.

  They stayed at the hotels clustered around the park at whose head sat the casino, and the Palácio was the best. Some took villas or palaces up in the hills behind the town and at night they came down to play. And in and around this panoply the spies and intelligence services thrived like industrious cockroaches.

  Rafe Cooper loved feeling the cooling wind sweeping off the ocean at night. It took on a magical glow in the moonlight as the phosphorescence of the breakers spread all along the coastline. And there was the smell. He couldn’t describe it, did it emanate from the billions of microscopic life coming out to play at night? At home, he’d lie awake in bed with the windows open and listen to the constant swishing sounding like being in the womb. Mankind evolved out of water and at various stages in our lives we’re drawn back to it. Whatever it was, he knew he’d like to live all his days by the sea. Although he loved the climate, he preferred the ocean when it became angry, turning from a benevolent blue to an angry grey with white-topped breakers queuing to storm the beach. The wind picking up and chasing clouds, now grey and black, across a bleak sky and the capricious wind hissing through the fronds of the green and yellow palm trees. It always amazed him how the sea changed moods in an instant. Just like a woman, he thought.

  Dressed in a white linen suit, he felt as smart as he ever did. His old school tie loose around his neck, he whistled as he wandered along the promenade inspecting its profusion of well-lit bars and restaurants stretching all the way to the red roofs of the old town of Cascais. And every so often he would stop to fill his lungs with the sea air. He’d struck lucky with this posting and he knew it. He’d never done anything to upset his bosses back in London and would try to keep it that way. Do a good job here and perhaps they’d let him stay. He looked up at the moon and down at its light spreading across the sands. Estoril was the place to be, a world away from the madness.

  He headed for the casino. He’d checked in with his contact and told him his plans and what he’d arranged for the woman and child, the platinum, and the American. It was a backup in case anything happened to him, yet what could happen to him here? This was the safest place in the world.

  Most nights he made the same journey. First, he would call in at the casino, perhaps have a martini and people watch – to see who was there and what was happening. He wouldn’t gamble. He never gambled. That would be taking a risk and he never took risks. Afterwards, he would stroll down to the Hotel Palácio and have a nightcap or two in the piano bar.

  The casino’s uniformed flunkey touched his forehead in recognition as he ran up the steps of the casino. Inside, the hatcheck girl gave him her most welcoming open-mouthed smile.

  ‘Good evening, Rafe, Fritz is on the tables and gambling big.’

  Rafe thanked her although he still couldn’t remember her name. One night, or rather an early morning, they’d shared a drink and one thing led to another. Now every time he saw her he knew she was waiting for a repeat invitation, but he couldn’t not with a girl whose name he didn’t know. He had standards after all.

  Entering the large room, he soon saw the two Germans sitting at the chemin de fer table each with a large stack of chips in front of him. The official line was they were German businessmen forging trade links with the Portuguese authorities although everyone knew they were spies. They gambled big often winning and at times losing even more. He marvelled at their expense accounts. He could imagine telling London he’d lost a packet on the tables and he would be recalled and posted to some godforsaken outpost or worse still somewhere there’d be real danger. He watched them for a while from the bar where he sat sipping his martini. Often when they gambled big something was coming down and they were gambling big.

  Soon after he left for the Hotel Palácio, which was where all the agents gathered to drink. The Germans stayed at the Park Hotel next door, but it was the Palácio they all visited to exchange information. He remembered when he was first posted here and was told to go to the Palácio where all the allies’ agents were billeted. When he asked how he should dress so his people would identify him, he was told to wear an Irish tweed jacket. So he did. On entering the piano bar for the first time, he realised everyone was wearing an Irish tweed jacket, even the Germans.

  At the Palácio, you only had to ask the concierge to find out the state of the war. The bar was a barometer of the ups and downs of the conflict. Every night, spies crowded in and there was no doubt as to who they all were, like being at a trade conference where each country has a little flag on its table. There were no flags, yet it was just as obvious, and on the fringes journalists hovered picking up any scraps falling their way.

  It was quite simple. Whoever celebrated and bought champagne had been successful. A telephone call to the concierge was enough to learn who was popping the corks. The press agencies called it the ‘champagne news’.

  Rafe left the casino, skirted the fountains and walked down through the geometrically laid-out park under the palms and cedar trees and cut over to the left and up the steps of the Palácio. From inside came the tinkling notes of the piano and a woman’s shrill voice cutting through the night air.

  He never understood why Jorge, the concierge, saluted as he entered the lobby. Perhaps he thought he was an officer and a gentleman. ‘Good evening, Mr Cooper, welcome as ever.’

  Rafe smiled back his acknowledgement.

  ‘The Germans are celebrating tonight, they invaded Paris this morning.’

  So that was it. Rafe felt a twinge of fear – where would the Germans stop?

  40

  BEN watched as sebastian led alena and freddie along the track occasionally catching a glimpse of their worried faces reflected
in the light of the lantern. Sebastian headed for a safe place a hundred yards away, a shelf in the rock face, and made them sit there before coming back for him.

  ‘M’sieu,’ said Sebastian pushing his head through the open window. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? One mistake and puff.’ He exaggerated the word with a flick of his fingers. ‘You’ll be gone.’

  Sebastian didn’t need an answer; the set of Ben’s face told him all he needed to know.

  ‘Very well, follow my lead and imagine I’m the mascot on the bonnet. If I move a centimetre right or left, you must steer that much as well.’

  With the lantern held in his right hand high above his head, Sebastian rested his left hand on the bonnet of the Bentley as if steering the car.

  It was slow.

  He knew he shouldn’t take his eyes off Sebastian. But he couldn’t stop himself from snatching glances down the track to where Alena and Freddie sat although now he couldn’t determine anything other than dark shapes huddled together.

  After about twenty yards Sebastian slammed his hand down hard on the bonnet – the signal for him to stop – and went off to test the track. Getting down on his knees, he peered at the earth beneath him. He returned shaking his head and muttering something incomprehensible. Again they set off moving forward inch by inch. It was so slow he wanted to put his foot down and roar through the trouble believing their impetus would carry them forward, although he was aware it could only lead to disaster.

  The frustration and the strain were beginning to tell, and his head and eyes hurt as if someone had taken an axe and put a parting in his brain. Because of a lapse in concentration, he wandered a fraction off Sebastian’s route and heard a warning shout. Now the car wouldn’t respond to the wheel and whichever way he turned it nothing happened. Thinking he needed to accelerate more, he pushed his foot down on the accelerator. The car shuddered, the wheels spinning and scoring a deep groove in the gravel, and with a throaty roar it took off showering stones in its wake and launching myriad sparks like tiny stars into the night sky.