As the hotel staff was completely disorganised there was little prospect of getting proper service, so he walked downstairs to the kitchens and just shouldered his way past the stunned-looking people who had gathered there from fear of air-raids. In the larder he found that day's selection for the restaurant's cold table and while the other people sat or stood about in gloomy foreboding he made an extra large meal of some of his favourite foods because he had no idea at all when he would get another.
After his admirable breakfast he learnt that simultaneously with their invasion of Norway the Germans had invaded Denmark. The news did not surprise him and he felt that there was nothing very much that could be done for the unfortunate Danes. If Hitler had succeeded in forcing their frontier, which should not have proved a very difficult task, he could bring such a mass of men and metal to bear that no Allied expeditionary force could have hoped to hold Denmark for the Democracies. Norway, however, was a very different proposition, and he remained convinced that at any time now news would come through of landings by British troops who would oust the Germans because they could not be supported by sea-borne reinforcements from their bases.
On going upstairs again he heard that the Gneisenau had been sunk by one of the shore-batteries in the Fjord, which cheered him up a little. The place was thick with rumours that every sort of treachery was on foot and that certain commanders of forts on the Fjord had deliberately refrained from shelling the Germans; but there was evidence that at least one officer had had the courage to use his guns before a 'cease fire' order had been telephoned to him.
Soon after 7 a.m. word flew from mouth to mouth that a somewhat belated German ultimatum had been received in Oslo. The Nazis demanded the unconditional surrender of Norway's armed forces, the reception of German garrisons, the resignation of the Norwegian Government and the setting-up of a new one under Major Quisling. During his three weeks there Gregory had received good reason to conclude that the pompous Major was a big cog in the German Fifth Column machine, but it now seemed that he was an even bigger fish than he had appeared. The Norwegian Parliament was said to be already in session and Gregory waited with growing anxiety to hear what reply they would give to the high-handed ultimatum.
At 7.45 the Government's decision came through. They had rejected the ultimatum and had resolved to fight. Gregory was considerably relieved, as although he naturally assumed that they already had a promise of full Allied support, and that that support was close at hand, he had begun to fear that Hitler's secret weapon had done its work so effectively that the Norwegian Government might betray their trust and the Norwegian people. Feeling that Norway's entry into the war as an ally thoroughly justified a bottle, and that there was still no urgent reason for leaving the capital, he went downstairs to the cellar.
Many of the hotel guests were gathered there and several of them, who had sought out the cellar hours before, were sitting on the floor drunk to the world. He helped himself to a bottle of Krug Private Cuve 1928 and proceeded to drink it to the damnation of the Nazis.
He had only just finished the bottle when bombs began to fall. Evidently the Germans were demonstrating their displeasure at the rejection of their ultimatum by letting their airmen loose on the virtually defenceless city. The attack, by comparison with the Russians' first air-raid on Helsinki, was like the performance of a village dramatic society compared with a first night in a famous theatre of a great capital. It was little more than a demonstration; but it was enough to rattle the Norwegians, who had no experience of air-raids.
Everyone in the hotel crowded down to the basement so that it became a jam of angry men and hysterical women. In consequence, Gregory went up to the lounge again. The hotel was solidly built and by sitting on the floor behind the hall-porter's desk he was quite safe from bomb-splinters or the flying glass of shattered windows, and if the place received a direct hit from a really heavy bomb the people in the basement would just as certainly be crushed to death as those on the ground floor. As a result of his move he heard the Norwegian Foreign Minister, Professor Koht, make the first Government broadcast, via a radio-set which had been left turned full on in the manager's office nearby.
He could not understand Norwegian but the head hall-porter, who had also remained upstairs, gave him the gist of the speech in English. Apparently the Minister, who only the day before had been protesting most violently about the British mine-laying as an infringement of Norway's neutrality, was now calling upon all loyal Norwegians to resist the German invasion by every means in their power. He also stated that the Norwegian Government had asked for aid from the Allies, who had agreed to send the Norwegians armed support as soon as possible.
With some alarm, Gregory questioned the head porter upon the last phrase, but the man was quite definite about it, which gave him furiously to think. The statement should have been to the effect that, in anticipation of German aggression, the Allies had had troopships waiting off the coast which were now landing forces in support of the Norwegian Army, but apparently all that the Allies had said was that they would send troops; which might mean this year, next year, some time or never. Even if they were leaving now—at this very moment—by the time they reached Norway they would find that the Germans had secured a solid foothold and were well dug-in there. Evidently somebody had slipped up pretty badly.
It was now after nine o'clock and Gregory decided that the time had come for him to make a move. The bombing had ceased some twenty minutes before, and it seemed that comparatively little damage had been done except that the Nazis had put one down plumb on the American Legation. The Minister and his staff had escaped, but Gregory felt that by destroying their papers and belongings Hitler had done his good deed for the day; nothing could be better calculated to arouse the fury of the people in the United States than this wanton destruction of their property, and since we still had no propaganda there worth talking about it was just the sort of thing that we wanted.
Out in the street he found people now hurrying about and many cars stacked high with baggage, so evidently the unfortunate folk of Oslo who had the means to do so were already in flight from the city.
That would jam the roads and make his trip to Bergen longer and more difficult, but he was well-fed and well-clothed so he had no doubts at all about his ability to arrive there without suffering any great discomfort.
Round at the garage, however, he received a nasty shock. The man who filled his hired car with petrol told him that the Germans were in Bergen. Gregory gaped at him, amazed, angry, helpless; he could only suppose that a convoy of German troopships had slipped past the British naval patrols in the night.
Anyhow, the presence of the Germans in Bergen put any question of going there now right out of the picture, so he decided to head north, for Trondheim.
As he drove slowly through the crowded streets he once mere reviewed the situation. By allowing the Germans to get into both Oslo and Bergen the Allies had landed themselves in a pretty mess. With their usual amazingly efficient staff-work the Nazis would now be able to seize all the strong points in southern Norway and, the power of defence being so vastly superior to that of attack, they would sit there—perhaps for weeks—wiping out any Allied forces that were sent against them. With such a lead they might even succeed in putting Norway right out of the war before Allied help could reach her.
From this he began to speculate on what measures the Germans would take in an endeavour rapidly to subdue the whole country. Obviously they would make every effort to get control of the Government machinery so that an official announcement could be made calling upon the Norwegians to lay down their arms. Paula and her friends had put in so much useful work with Norway's official classes that the way was already prepared for such a move. But it could be done only by exerting pressure on King Haakon.
The Ministers who had remained uncontaminated by Hitler's secret weapon would advise him to fight on and to put his trust in the eventual victory of the Allies; the others would urge him to sp
are his people the horrors of war and continue to rule over his kingdom by the gracious permission of the Nazis. What would the King decide to do?
As Gregory was pondering the point he caught sight of a man driving a car a little way ahead of him. It was the German Air Attache, Captain von Ziegler. Instantly the snatches of conversation that he had overheard at Paula's farewell party, between von Ziegler and Major Quisling, flashed back to him. They had been planning for von Ziegler to kidnap somebody and fly him into Germany, and it was somebody who had the unusual height of six-foot-two. King Haakon had that unusual height.
Gregory's brain began to race. Could it be? It must be. It was the King whom they intended to kidnap and torture into surrender. At that moment von Ziegler turned his car out of the main stream of traffic and shot up a side-turning. Instantly abandoning all thoughts of Trondheim, Gregory jerked round his wheel, narrowly missing a lamp standard, and roared after him.
CHAPTER 5
Gregory Sallust Makes His Will
A few hundred yards farther on, von Ziegler's car entered the Stor-Tory, the great square which is Oslo's principal market; but no market was being held there this morning. The German attack had opened before the vegetable and flower growers had left the suburbs so the square was innocent of stalls and its permanent booths were shut. Only a few knots of people stood there, gazing skyward at the German planes which were still circling overhead. Passing the massive red-brick tower of the Vor Frelser's Kirke, which dominates the square, the German Air Attache turned again and Gregory saw that he was heading for the Palace. Jamming his foot down on the accelerator he put on a spurt and drew level with the car ahead. Von Ziegler, catching sight of him, recognised him at once and smilingly waved him on, but Gregory signalled to him to slow down and with a frown of annoyance the German pulled up.
'What is it, Herr Oberst-Baron—what is it?' he called. 'I am in a hurry—I have urgent work to do.'
'I know,' nodded Gregory, getting out of his car and stepping over to von Ziegler, who was leaning from the driving-seat of his. 'I've been sent to help you.'
Before the airman had a chance to express surprise, Gregory hurried on: 'I've done my job already, so Quisling said that the most useful thing I could do now was to lend you a hand.'
'I see.' Von Ziegler's bright-blue eyes remained quite expressionless for a moment, then he asked: 'Do you know what I'm about to do?'
'No,' grinned Gregory, 'not officially; but I have a pretty shrewd idea, as Quisling said that I should find you somewhere in the neighbourhood of the Palace. It was by sheer luck that I caught sight of you driving through the Stor-Tory just now.'
Von Ziegler suddenly smiled. 'You must have a pretty useful imagination, Baron, if you've guessed what I mean to attempt when I reach the Palace.'
'I don't hold down a job on the General Staff for my good looks, Herr Hauptmann, and I assume that you've got a number of our Fifth Column people reporting to you. It would be fine work if we could surround the Palace so that the King can't communicate with his Government.'
'It's a much more hazardous enterprise than that.' Von Ziegler's smile widened.
'Whatever it is, I'm game, and naturally in this affair I shall consider myself entirely under your orders.'
'Danke Schon, Herr Oberst-Baron. If I'm any judge, you're just the sort of man that I should like to have with me in this business. It needs quick wits and courage and I'm sure that you have plenty of both. But we mustn't waste time talking. Jump into your car and follow me; I'll tell you what the scheme is when we get there.'
Still grinning, Gregory got back into his car and drove after the Air Attache through a number of narrow side-turnings by which he was avoiding, as far as possible, the main thoroughfares of the city which were now choked with refugees. The two cars pulled up one behind the other outside the Palace and their occupants met on the pavement.
Von Ziegler just nodded to the sentry on the gate and walked through into an inner courtyard with Gregory beside him. As they crossed the courtyard he said in a low voice: 'We're going to arrest the King.'
'Donnerwetter!' exclaimed Gregory, simulating thunderstruck astonishment.
'I don't wonder you're a bit taken aback,' murmured the airman, who was obviously enjoying his momentous disclosure, 'and it is a pretty risky undertaking. That's why I'm not sorry to have you with me.
But if we keep our heads I think we'll be able to pull it off all right.'
'What, in his own palace, surrounded by his guards? That's taking on a packet, isn't it?'
'It would be if his guards were all loyal to him, but if Quisling has done his stuff properly none of them will lift a finger. If he hasn't, we shall probably be dead in about five minutes; but you said that you were game for anything. Of course you've got your gun on you?'
Gregory nodded. Evidently he had been right about von Ziegler; anyone who would attempt to carry out such a desperate business was a man after his own heart. For the moment he was almost sorry that he was on the other side, but war was war, and if he found it necessary to do so he knew that, without hesitation, he would shoot the blonde, lanky airman.
Von Ziegler went on softly: 'This is my plan. There is a Major Heering in attendance on the King this morning—you've probably met him at Magda von Krims'—she's been looking after him for us—and it will be his job to take us up to the King without our being formally announced. He'll tell the King beforehand that two members of the Russian Legation are asking urgently for a private audience but that they don't wish to be seen going in to him. Russia has not declared her policy yet, and as Norway has rejected our ultimatum the King will naturally be incredibly anxious to know what Russia intends to do. Is she going to come in with us and attack him across his northern frontier, or can she be kept out so that he has a chance to form a solid front against us in the south? In consequence, it's certain that he will consent to see us and agree to our coming up by way of the back stairs.
'Directly we get into his room we simply hold him up at the point of the pistol. He is just as liable to die in agony from a couple of bullets in the stomach as any of his subjects, so I very much doubt if the old boy will have the courage to call our bluff. We shall be very polite but quite firm about it and offer him the choice of a sticky death or of coming quietly downstairs with us to my car, with Heering in attendance, so that, for his own protection, we can remove him to a safer place than his Palace is at the moment.'
'That's all very well,' Gregory protested, 'but, besides this chap Heering, there may be other people with him when we get up to his room, and he must know you by sight as you're a member of the Diplomatic Corps here. Directly he sees your face he'll realise that Heering has lied to him about the Russians.'
'No; we shall be all right on that score, because Heering will tell him beforehand that we have insisted that nobody else shall be present at the interview, and once we are in his room it's just a toss-up as to whether he notices my face first or the automatic I shall be holding in my hand.'
At that moment they passed another sentry and reached a covered entrance. On going inside, von Ziegler asked the uniformed porter there to tell Major Heering that the gentleman whom he was expecting had arrived. While the message was being sent up a liveried footman showed them into an empty waiting-room and closed the door behind them.
Gregory produced his cigarettes and inquired in a low voice: 'What happens if the King tells us to go to blazes?'
'Thanks.' Von Ziegler took one and went on: "Then things may prove a bit tricky, but I think we'll still manage to pull it off. According to Quisling, two-thirds of the officers of the Royal Guard have been fixed and the men are not likely to attempt anything without orders. We shall keep the King covered, and, if necessary, use physical force to restrain him from leaving the room. In any case he could not get out of the Palace now, as every entrance is specially guarded and a pro-German Norwegian officer posted at each with orders to stop him. While we are holding up the King, Heering will leave us and col
lect his friends. They will then proceed to arrest any Ministers, secretaries and other people who are in the Palace and might cause trouble, while we sit tight with the King until some of the troops who have landed in the harbour district have managed to fight their way up here. If we can prevent the King's communicating with anyone for two or three hours we should be all right, as by that time our Storm-Troopers will have artillery trained on the Palace and the loyal portion of the guard won't be able to offer any resistance even if they want to.'
'That's fine,' murmured Gregory, 'fine. But what happens if the King pulls a gun on us? He might, you know, and it only needs the sound of one shot to bring everybody running; then the men would probably start shooting at Major Heering and his friends and it might be anybody's day out.'
Von Ziegler shot a supercilious glance at Gregory. 'If by any chance you don't like the idea, Baron, there's still plenty of time for you to quit. I was rather under the impression, though, that you said you were game for anything.'
'I am, Herr Hauptmann,' Gregory replied quietly; 'but if anything does go wrong it looks as though you and I are going to be in the forefront of the battle. I've been under fire quite a number of times before, but nothing about my own job led me to suppose that I should be again this morning; and I haven't made my Will.'
The Black Baroness gs-4 Page 6
