The Girl with the Silver Stiletto

by Vic Robbie

  Two men found Freddie lying at the base of a large rubber tree. The man wearing a straggly beard, partly hiding a hideous scar on his lower jaw, stayed with him while his partner, a small man with the build of a marathoner, ran back to the compound to raise help. The searchers, all locals, had been sent out in pairs. If they had not been looking for a boy, they would have dismissed the dark shape as just a bundle of rags. To them, he was only a boy. They had no idea of his importance to their masters.

  When he was reported missing, Müller was not as concerned as Mengele. He was confident he could not get far because the terrain was daunting and the undergrowth strength sapping. While Mengele regarded it as an attempt to escape, he saw it as no more than the boy exploring and getting lost. It might take some time to find him, but his real concern was whether he could survive in a dangerous environment. The jungle was not the place to be, especially for a small, defenceless boy.

  If anything happened to Freddie, Natalie’s days would be numbered as she would no longer be of use to the Nazis. She was with Müller when the marathoner was allowed access to his office. His confidence that they would find Freddie was fading and the marathoner’s expression did little to allay his fears. Müller looked so grave the man trembled as if guilty of finding something he shouldn’t have.

  Although Natalie never had difficulty sublimating her maternal urges, they were threatening to overwhelm her, and she wrung her hands together and flushed.

  ‘Where did you find the boy?’ he asked in a hushed voice, and the man garbled, afraid he would be blamed. The man tried to explain, but he displayed his irritation with a scowl. ‘Show me.’

  He instructed Natalie to join him, and together they followed the man, who was half walking and half running in a shambling gait, out into the jungle. One of his men accompanied them carrying a rifle. She broke into a trot as the marathoner and Müller increased their pace along the path that Freddie had escaped down hours earlier.

  37

  With staring eyes and sweat pouring down his face, a small, swarthy man, burst into Ronnie’s hotel room. Mario, a local on the payroll of French Intelligence, treated Ben and Pickering with suspicion and kept near the door, ready to make a quick exit.

  ‘It’s okay, Mario, they’re with us,’ she assured him, and he relaxed.

  Once Ben had left to find Alena, Mario conversed in hushed and earnest tones with Ronnie so Pickering couldn’t hear. The more he talked, the more her face darkened. When he finished, he waited, ensuring she understood everything he had told her before leaving the room.

  Ronnie’s demeanour transformed, and she paced around as if formulating a plan. ‘Some bastards in Peron’s secret police tipped off the Nazis,’ she told Pickering.

  ‘How did he find that out?’ He was beginning to feel Freddie was drifting out of reach.

  ‘Mario has an informant in SI.’

  ‘So, will they rely on the State to protect them?’

  She ran a hand through her hair, making it stand on end. ‘Or they might run.’

  ‘If they do, it would be easier.’

  ‘Perhaps. We must get to the Germans’ compound before they disappear with the boy. If we fail, it could take years to locate them again.’

  ‘Can’t go in there all guns blazing,’ Pickering protested. ‘We must check it out first. Otherwise, it’ll be dangerous for all, especially Freddie.’

  Looking troubled as if she agreed, she sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, and swayed from side to side.

  ‘You all right, old girl?’

  She glared. ‘What you say could happen, but we’ve no option. If we don’t strike, it’s over. We have to go now.’

  ‘Okay, boss.’ Pickering shrugged and made to leave. ‘I’ll get Ben and Alena.’

  ‘No, it wouldn’t be fair to risk Ben’s life, and the woman would be a passenger.’

  ‘How are you going to handle it?’

  ‘Legally, we have no rights here, and we’ll be targets of the State. They’ll come after us. Whatever happens, I’m not letting the Nazis get away.’ It sounded like a death sentence.

  ‘How many people do you have?’

  ‘Enough.’

  ‘Weapons?’

  ‘Of course, the Nazis at the compound are heavily armed.’

  ‘Ben would be another useful soldier,’ Pickering suggested. ‘He can take care of himself.’

  ‘I know all about that.’ As if remembering, her eyes went opaque like frosted glass.

  ‘And Alena?’

  ‘No.’ She stood up to reinforce the decision.

  ‘If there’s a gunfight,’ he said. ‘Freddie won’t know which way to turn.’

  ‘He’s got Natalie.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve killed her. If he sees his mother, it might be easier to get him to safety.’

  She walked back and forth thinking for a few seconds. ‘Okay, but they’re your responsibility. Anything happens to them it’s a SIS problem. My first target is to take out those leading Nazis. Everything else has to wait in line.’

  Pickering agreed, beginning to question if he were doing the right thing involving them.

  ‘Get Ben and Alena in the lobby in fifteen minutes, and we’ll go straight to the compound.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘Let me worry about that. Müller and Mengele are the targets. Once they’re dead, we’ll rescue the boy.’

  ’Okay, okay,’ Pickering said, worrying that Ronnie appeared more concerned about killing the Nazis than rescuing Freddie. ‘It’ll be difficult to get away afterwards.’

  She smiled sardonically. ‘Never go into a room without knowing the way out. Mario and his people have made the arrangements. We’ll head straight for the Uruguayan border, and from there we can make it back to Europe.’

  ‘The local police will be on our tails, and if they catch us, they’ll kill us.’

  ‘That’s the risk we’ve got to take.’ She shrugged and shivered. ‘Whatever happens, live or die, we have to eliminate those bastards and stop them attempting to build a Fourth Reich.’

  He could not find Alena. She was no longer in his bed and did not answer when he knocked on her door. With the persuasion of a folded banknote, the manager agreed to use a master key to let Ben into Alena’s room. At least her things were still there.

  Ben checked out the restaurant and bar. No one had seen the blonde woman. And there was no sign outside the hotel either. At first, he feared the Nazis had kidnapped her and then relaxed, realising he was worrying needlessly. She could have gone out for air and would return soon.

  He selected a sofa in the lobby and glanced through a newspaper, regularly checking his watch. After a time when she hadn’t appeared, he became concerned and made another, more thorough, search of the surrounding area.

  The Plaza de Mayo, so often crowded with thousands listening to speeches by the dictator Juan Domingo Perón from the balconies of the Casada Rosada, was deserted apart from Alena.

  At first, it didn’t register. She was slumped on a bench, looking pale and worn out, and he felt her pain. He called her, but there was no sign of recognition.

  ‘Alena, it’s Ben.’ Fearing she was in a trance, he put out a supporting hand as she struggled to her feet. She trembled at his touch, her legs giving way, and he caught her.

  ‘You’re exhausted,’ he said, sitting her down and keeping a firm hold. ‘Do you want water, something to eat?’

  Hair swirled around her face as her head shook.

  ‘Freddie will–’

  At the mention of his name, she sobbed and fell sideways, burying her face into his shoulder. ‘I’m so useless,’ she said, her voice muffled.

  ‘Sssh,’ he whispered.

  ‘Freddie’s here somewhere, maybe close, and I can’t help him. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s my life. He’s the first thing I think about when I wake, and the last before I sleep. And he’s always in my dreams.’

  ‘We’ll find Freddie.’ He hated how
empty his words sounded. ‘We haven’t come here to fail.’

  ‘Really?’ Her eyes searched his, demanding the truth, and the trembling increased and almost caused her to fall off the bench. ‘If the Nazis, keep him, it’ll be worse than death. They’ll brainwash him into believing Hitler was a great man, with superhuman powers. In Germany, children were so brainwashed they watched the executions of their parents without emotion. They became like automatons. The Nazis could tell them night was day, and they’d believe it. I’d rather kill him than that happen.’

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Pickering shouted, breathing heavily and running with an exaggerated gait, his face redder than usual. ‘Been looking everywhere.’

  They stared as if he were an irrelevance.

  ‘Come on.’ He gestured. ‘We’re going to get Freddie.’

  38

  Two cars were waiting for them. Ronnie stood close to the lead car, a hand tapping on the roof and the door open. ‘Quick, get in.’ She pointed to the red convertible with Mario at the wheel. ‘We’ve no time to spare.’

  He climbed in beside Mario, and Alena and Pickering bundled into the back and Alena showed her disapproval by sitting as far away from him as possible. Three grim-faced Frenchmen joined Ronnie in the other car.

  ‘We should be there within the hour,’ Mario said and turned, beaming like a taxi driver.

  ‘Where is it?’ she asked.

  ‘If I told you, would you be any the wiser?’

  Wanting to repair bridges, Pickering was eager to explain. ‘The Nazis’ compound is outside the city, and that’s where they are holding Freddie.’ He attempted a confident grin, but she ignored him. ‘The local police are helping us gain access to the property.’

  Ben knew Pickering was lying by the way his eyes dropped, but the truth would worry Alena, rejuvenated now they were going to rescue her son.

  After several jousts with heavy traffic, they pulled into a dusty parking lot on the outskirts of the city and drove alongside a large truck with a camouflaged canopy. Ronnie and Pickering got out, and she shouted ‘Ça va’ to the driver. They talked before shaking hands and returning to their cars. As they passed the truck, he saw six men in the back, all clutching machine guns, and he hoped Alena hadn’t seen that. They drove in silence, and Alena reached for his hand and clutched it tight, never letting go for the rest of the journey. The city was left behind, and they traversed uneven country roads with few signs of life, and he thought the compound must be farther out than Pickering had intimated. Ronnie had said they had no time to spare, but it was as if they were keeping to a strict deadline. He willed the car to pick up speed. Every minute was vital, and there was no way of knowing how the Nazis would react to their presence and that could put Freddie at risk. Alena didn’t acknowledge his glance and stared at the passing countryside.

  Despairing of ever reaching their destination, he was relieved when the cars rounded a bend, drove down a slight slope, and pulled over under trees far enough off the road not to be seen by passers-by. Ronnie’s car turned a full circle before coming to a halt facing them. Ronnie came over and looked in Mario’s window, her arms resting on the door.

  ‘We can’t go any farther,’ she said. ‘There’s a police checkpoint around the next bend. They’d stop us going on to the compound which must be another four hundred metres ahead.’

  Alena gasped. ‘I thought the police were helping us?’ Biting her lip and glaring at Pickering, she gripped Ben’s hand harder.

  Annoyance rippled across Ronnie’s face as she studied Alena, and she regretted allowing her to come with them. She didn’t need a hysterical woman along for the ride. ‘One of my men and I will scout out the terrain.’ She nodded over her shoulder. ‘There’s a path leading to a gate used by the staff. We’ll see how far we get, but it’ll give us an idea of the layout and where their guards are hanging out.’

  ‘No,’ he interrupted

  Ronnie wheeled. ‘I give the orders.’

  ‘You do, but I’ll go with you–’

  ‘No, Ben, it’s not safe,’ Alena said and pulled him back.

  ‘If there’s a chance to get to Freddie, he’ll recognise me,’ he said, almost shouting. ‘He’ll be frightened.’

  Ronnie studied him for a moment before making a decision. ‘Okay, Ben, come with me.’ And then turning to the others. ‘Give us twenty minutes. If we’re not back, go in. We must kill Müller and Mengele and free the boy.’ Handing him a pistol, she added: ‘You might need this.’

  They kept to the concrete path and made good progress, and she whispered: ‘Better stay on it. Don’t go into the forest, the creatures will eat you.’

  ‘What creatures?’

  ‘Alligators and jaguars. We’d make a healthy dinner.’

  In the gloom of the forest, the trees took on a sinister appearance, their branches like long arms and hands reaching out to ensnare them. And all around a continual movement and snapping of twigs suggested that whatever lurked there was tracking them.

  Pausing, she held out an arm. ‘That’s strange,’ she whispered. ‘Where are the police? They’ve deserted the checkpoint.’

  She resumed her fast walk for another five minutes before they saw the floodlight pylons of the compound.

  ‘Careful.’ He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘We’ve no idea where the guards are.’

  They stopped and listened, and apart from the rustling in the jungle, there were no other sounds. Were the Nazis still there and ready to defend themselves, or had they run like rats? The authorities could have beaten them to it and spirited them away from danger. And when certain the Nazis had escaped, they would turn on Ronnie and her people.

  Shouts and gunshots exploded around them. The scuffling of men’s boots on concrete and the clunking of metal on metal signalled armed men were running their way. Although they could not see them, they realised they were almost upon them. She stepped off the path to the right and under cover of the trees, and he jumped to his left, hitting a wire fence whose spring spun him around, so he fell backwards through a gap. Mud splashed his face and squeezed into his mouth and hair as he landed on soft, wet ground.

  It smells vile as if someone has peed in it, he thought.

  To clear his airways, he moved his head to the side. A large yellow eye stared at him. Mud slithered down the back of his throat as he swallowed hard and he wanted to throw up. He had fallen onto the edge of a large pond. And in the gloom, he could make out the long shape lying next to him. The water was almost a foot deep and beside him lay a creature he had only seen in picture books and zoos. The eye was unblinking. It was hard to tell whether it was asleep, or awake and watching him. A tremble might alert it, and its jaws would clamp on him like a crusher. The only consolation was he would drown before it ate him.

  Once the men passed, she hissed: ‘Come on, Ben, we’ve got to move.’

  He dare not answer.

  ‘What’s wrong? Don’t just lie there.’

  Lifting an arm, he pointed at the creature.

  There was a sharp intake of breath and a throaty chuckle from Ronnie as she moved closer. ‘What a beauty,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve always liked lying with a lady.’ She chuckled again. ‘I presume it is a lady.’

  Between gritted teeth, he rasped: ‘Get me out of here.’

  ‘Not sure what I can do. Don’t want to startle it.’

  ‘If I as much as fart, it’ll be on me. It’s your move.’

  ‘Once had a handbag made of crocodile,’ she mused. ‘Looks a splendid specimen, don’t want to hurt–’

  The caiman moved its legs, sending ripples of dirty water flowing into his mouth, and he was too afraid to spit it out.

  ‘I’ve got my pistol,’ she said. ‘But where should I aim? If the bullet bounces off its armour, it’ll get angry. And if I shoot, it will alert any Nazis still in the compound.’

  ‘Take aim at an eye.’

  ‘Who do you think I am, Annie Oakley? It’s a small target, and the light’s
bad. I want to get to the compound before they disappear.’

  Can’t lie here all night. ‘When it gets light, it’ll want breakfast.’ He struggled to keep the desperation out of his voice.

  ‘Can’t you hang on until I check the house.’

  Worrying that swearing might offend the alligator, he stole another glance at the animal. The eye blinked, he thought, and then a rumbling sound preceded a horrible odour as it passed wind.

  ‘I’ve got an idea.’ She moved closer. ‘Might work, or it could go wrong. It’s your call.’

  ‘For God’s sake, woman, just do it,’ he said through gritted teeth.

  Ronnie disappeared and searched the undergrowth before returning.

  ‘Ready?’ she asked. He nodded, wondering what she was trying to do.

  Pulling back an arm, she hurled a broken branch out into the middle of the pond. The splash alerted the caiman. With a grunting and snorting, it lifted its head, and its legs propelled it into the water with hardly a ripple. Ben sprang to his feet and ran to the safety of the path without looking back.

  ‘What took you so long?’ he panted.

  They progressed along the path, and now no sounds came from the compound. After another few steps, they heard footfall behind coming up fast, and they shrank under cover of the trees. The others approached, and Ronnie stepped out to greet them and bring them up to speed before moving on as one.

  Pickering looked grim. ‘This isn’t what we expected,’ he whispered so Alena couldn’t hear. ‘Isn’t good, old man.’

  As they reached the gate, Alena was shaking, and he put an arm around her to steady her. One of Ronnie’s agents pushed it hard so that it swung back and clanged against a post. They waited and listened for a reaction and, getting none, fanned out, moving in choreographed surges up onto a terrace. And, after determining what was on the other side, they opened a glass door and stepped inside. Only their heavy breathing broke the silence of the building.