Shadow of Doom (Dr. Palfrey)

by John Creasey

  ‘Yes,’ she said, and to their astonishment she smiled warmly. ‘You are Dr. Palfrey, I think? My husband has been expecting you. Please come in.’

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Long Arm of the Marquis

  Neilsen was a dapper, dark-haired man, anything but a typical Swede. He came hurrying along the hall as they entered. His left coat-sleeve was empty, his right hand was extended and gripped first Palfrey’s, then Bruton’s, with obvious pleasure. He was smiling broadly as he led a bewildered Palfrey in to a long room on the right. His wife went off, murmuring something about luncheon, while Bruton rolled his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, and said:

  ‘So you were expecting us?’

  Neilsen laughed. ‘The Marquis told me you might look in.’

  ‘Did he!’ exclaimed Palfrey. ‘When?’

  ‘By cable, yesterday,’ said Neilsen. ‘He also said that he expected you would be in some trouble if you came—is that so?’

  ‘Plenty of trouble,’ said Bruton, and drew a deep breath. ‘The sly old fox!’

  ‘There is not much that the Marquis does not anticipate,’ said Neilsen. ‘But, my friends, sit down! You are quite safe here, I assure you. If there should be an alarm there is a path at the back of the house which will lead to sanctuary for the time being, and we shall not be caught unawares. What has been happening?’

  They told him, briefly, enough to make him realise the seriousness of the situation. Bruton did most of the talking. Palfrey was trying to digest the fact that the long arm of the Marquis had reached out so swiftly to Stockholm and brought them at least temporary sanctuary. It was good to sit back at ease, with a man whom they knew to be a friend; good to see the glow in Neilsen’s eyes, proof, if proof were needed, that he longed to be back with Z.5, and was reliving that part of his life which he had spent in the service.

  When they had finished talking, Neilsen said, thoughtfully:

  ‘You were wise to lodge no complaint against Knudsen, he is well respected here, and has powerful friends. I will not ask if you can be mistaken—for my part I do not greatly like the man. I was convinced that during the war he did more than trade with the Nazis because he had to, I was never sure that his sympathies were pro-Allied. That does not greatly matter. What matters is what you are going to do now.’

  ‘First, send word to Brett,’ said Palfrey. ‘Then get word to Drusilla and Stefan, to make sure they don’t walk into trouble at the Splendor. When that’s done I’d better go and see Bane again,’ he added. ‘He’ll still be there—Neilsen can probably find which room.’

  ‘Openly?’ asked Neilsen, in surprise.

  Palfrey smiled. ‘No. By night. Much rests on Bane, and getting a confession from him. Everything rests on that, I suppose. It’s a thousand pities they killed Matthew Lumsden.’

  ‘Obviously they knew the danger,’ Neilsen said. ‘When is your wife due at the Splendor!’

  ‘It might be any time,’ said Palfrey.

  ‘I must go myself,’ said Neilsen; ‘no one else will recognise her—although there are several people in Stockholm who would recognise Stefan! I will go at once and have a word with my friends—there are still some who will gladly work with me again.’

  ‘What trouble will you get into if we’re caught here?’ asked Bruton.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Neilsen cheerfully.

  He left almost immediately, driving a small Opel car. When he had gone Palfrey and Bruton washed and tidied up in the spacious bathroom, looking over the lake from the window, content for the time being with the way things were working out for them.

  Neilsen’s wife called them to lunch; there were hors d’oeuvres as only Scandinavians know them, strange shellfish, fleshy fish as tiny as sardines but not cured in oil, all topped with raw egg and a piquant sauce, a meal in itself. Broiled trout followed and, for Bruton, ice cream – the presentation of which gave Mrs. Neilsen obvious delight. She spoke good English; she knew what work Neilsen had done before his injury, and it did not seem to occur to her that complications might follow their visit. She led them upstairs, after lunch, to a long, low-ceilinged room overlooking the lake, a room with twin beds where, she said, they should rest and look out of the window and feast themselves on the beauties of Sweden, and be ready for what the night might bring forth.

  There was no question of resting.

  They examined Matthew Lumsden’s papers, which told them nothing, and talked in low-pitched voices. There was a hush over Haga, and it seemed that loud voices would break the spell of security which had come upon them. There was something illusory about that security; it might be broken at anytime. When they heard a car moving along the road they stopped and listened, but the cars all went past. They watched the clock at first. An hour passed, and they had said all that they could usefully say. The problem was crystal clear; they had to prove their case against Bane and the others. Bane would be warned now, there was no question of taking him by surprise. Two hours passed. Mrs. Neilsen called them; if they were awake, they would be ready for tea.

  They were at tea, served at the table, a meal far larger than they wanted, when the telephone rang. Mrs. Neilsen jumped up, went out of the room to answer, and then called: ‘Doctor, it is for you.’

  Palfrey hurried into the hall. ‘Hallo,’ he said, and to his surprise heard Stefan’s voice.

  'Hallo!’ he cried.

  ‘Sap, listen,’ said Stefan urgently. ‘Drusilla is with Muriel and Charles at the Splendor, there was no chance to get them away. They are with Bane, of course, and I do not think they will be there long. I have talked to Bane.’

  Palfrey said in a tense voice: ‘Go on.’

  ‘It is the old story,’ Stefan said, ‘except, of course, that we cannot rely on anything that Bane promises. He offers Drusilla’s life for yours and Corny’s.’

  ‘As simply as that,’ said Palfrey, heavily.

  ‘As simply as that.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Near the Splendor. I am watched. Neilsen gave me a message—I do not think he is watched yet. It would not be wise for me to come to you, it will only bring them to your hiding-place, and that may be useful later on.’

  ‘Can you speak to Neilsen?’

  ‘Yes, he is waiting near the telephone-box, as if he wishes to use it. I can open the door enough for him to hear.’

  ‘Ask him to tell you of a place where we can go,’ said Palfrey, ‘and then to come back here. If he can arrange for a taxi it will be a help.’

  ‘I do not think there will be much chance of obtaining a taxi,’ said Stefan. ‘There is a police search going on for you and Corny; this man Knudsen has acted swiftly. You are, of course, accused of Matthew Lumsden’s murder.’

  ‘You know a lot about it,’ Palfrey said.

  ‘Bane was very informative,’ said Stefan.

  ‘And cock-a-hoop,’ guessed Palfrey. ‘All right, Stefan. I’ll be ready to move as soon as Neilsen names the meeting place. It will have to be after dark, but that won’t mean a long wait, it gets dark early here. Is there any way of finding out when Drusilla leaves the Splendor!’

  ‘Neilsen has promised to do all he can,’ said Stefan. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

  He rang off.

  Palfrey replaced the receiver slowly, and turned to see Bruton and Neilsen’s wife looking at him anxiously. He raised his hands and dropped them, and his face was stern. He said: ‘They’ve got Drusilla, of course. That was Stefan.’

  Bruton did not speak; Mrs. Neilsen turned and walked away.

  ‘The old, old way,’ said Palfrey, with an effort. ‘If ever I start on a hunt again I’ll make a firm rule—never split up.’

  ‘Did Charles betray her?’ asked Bruton.

  ‘I don’t know. We’re waiting for Neilsen now, and meeting Stefan after dark.’ He went into the dining-room and looked out over the lake, where the first veils of dusk were falling; and he longed for darkness.

  The end of the hunt was
in sight now. The only question was what sacrifices would be demanded of them – of him – of Drusilla?

  It was pitch dark.

  Neilsen led them from the car, which he had pulled up in a side street near the Stortog, the old market-place, in the centre of Staden. The road was narrow and there were old houses on either side. They walked unnoticed along the crowded sidewalk. Neilsen led them down a narrow alley, where all was dark, down a flight of steps towards the channel between the north and south islands. Few people were here. They trod softly on the smooth road, Palfrey gripping Neilsen’s coat, Bruton close behind him. They could hear the gentle lapping of the water not far below them. The lighted bridge spanning the channel was crowded with people and traffic; they could hear the noise of the traffic and the rumble of voices, and yet close to them the silence seemed complete.

  ‘Be careful here,’ said Neilsen.

  He led them down another flight of steps, and then along the bank of the channel, then up more steps, into a narrow street where houses overhung the water. Lights shone from a few of the windows, but there was no street lamp; Neilsen whispered that he had taken the lamp bulb away some time before.

  He stopped outside a door and tapped.

  It opened at once. They could see an old man silhouetted against a dim light. Neilsen spoke to him and he stood aside.

  They entered a narrow hall, went up a flight of stairs, and then Neilsen opened another door, and a brighter light shone out, shone upon Stefan – and Charles Lumsden.

  They sprang up.

  ‘Palfrey, I’m terribly sorry,’ Charles burst out, ‘it’s too ghastly for words.’ He did not know when not to talk, and Palfrey smiled at him, understanding. ‘And it was my damned fault!’ cried Charles. ‘If I hadn’t trusted that accursed girl it would never have happened!’

  Palfrey said: ‘That’s too much to say.’

  ‘It isn’t,’ said Charles. ‘If I hadn’t trusted her, if I hadn’t persuaded Drusilla to trust her, we would never have left Berlin. She told me that she knew Bane was in this business, that she was working against him; she told me that she could make sure that nothing went wrong, and—and we walked right into trouble. We went up to her room—we’d booked a room—and Bane and that kite Knudsen were in there, as well as Lozana—we didn’t have a chance, Lozana and Knudsen were armed. We just walked right into it, and’ – he clenched his hands and glared at Palfrey – ‘Muriel, the slut, laughed. Laughed!’

  ‘Now, steady,’ said Palfrey. ‘We’ve got the future to face not the past to brood over. Is Drusilla still at the Splendor!’

  ‘As far as we know.’ Neilsen said. ‘My wife is watching, so are friends of mine. If she is seen to leave, we shall have news soon.’

  ‘What can we do!’ cried Charles. ‘They let me go, knowing I would do nothing to risk ’Silla’s life.’

  Palfrey looked at Stefan. ‘We’ll find something we can do, it can’t be hopeless yet. What happened to you?’ There was no reproach in his voice, he just wanted to know.

  Stefan said: ‘It was cleverly done, Sap. We reached the hotel together, from the airport. Lozana was in the lounge. I saw him, and watched him. The others went upstairs to their room. Five minutes afterwards Bane came down and spoke to me—and told me the situation. He was brutally frank. He said that you knew the truth but hadn’t proof of it. He staked Drusilla’s life against you and Corny giving yourselves up to him—but I have told you of that.’

  Palfrey said: ‘Doesn’t he think I’ll tell you what I know? Hasn’t he given himself away? Does he think we will do nothing, even if we do give ourselves up? Does he think we’ll let him get away with it?’

  ‘He can only try,’ said Stefan, ‘he has no other chance. There is danger for him and the others as acute as for ourselves. He is relying on Knudsen’s influence with the Government and with the police to discredit any report we make in Stockholm, and he does not think that we can get in touch with London.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Palfrey.

  ‘And can we?’ asked Stefan, softly.

  Palfrey said: ‘We can and we will. I’ve written a full report, in code. I posted it as soon as we left Neilsen’s house—the post is the safest place. It was stamped for airmail, and will probably reach London by tomorrow, the next day at the latest. It’s up to Brett to find the evidence, if we don’t have a chance, and I think he will from the report.’ He turned on Charles. ‘Do you know about your brother Matthew?’

  Charles said: ‘Yes. The unspeakable swine!’

  Palfrey laughed, without amusement. ‘I think they had him pretty helpless, Charles. No time for bitterness. And I can see now why Brett was so secretive.’ He laughed again, and in spite of his words there was a wealth of bitterness in his tone. ‘A Lumsden was suspect. Your father put up the money with some eagerness, on condition that you could come with us. It looked as if he had planted a spy, didn’t it?’

  Charles said, stupidly: ‘The Old Man wouldn’t be in this foul business.’

  ‘Probably not. Just a Lumsden—Matthew, as it turns out. Oh, Brett warned us to keep a careful watch on you, he couldn’t have done much more than he did without telling us all the truth, but—oh, well. No time for brooding over the past—who said that? I did, didn’t I?’ He laughed again. ‘What are we going to do? Sit back and wait for arrest?’ When none of them answered, he went on: ‘We’ve done pretty well. Raoul—Neil—and now Drusilla. I was a damned fool ever to bring her. I thought it was going to be a holiday chase, with perhaps a spot of bother here and there. We should have been told the truth!’ he cried.

  Stefan said: ‘The Marquis hasn’t failed us yet, Sap.’

  ‘He has this time,’ said Palfrey, abruptly. ‘I—Hallo, what’s that?’

  ‘That’ was a heavy knocking at the front door.

  All of them stiffened, and Bruton put his hand to his pocket – he was never far from his gun. Neilsen looked towards the door, then raised a hand for silence, went out and hurried down the stairs. The door closed behind him. They heard him speaking in undertones, presumably to the man who had admitted them, and then the knocking came again, urgent and imperative.

  Bruton said: ‘This looks like it.’

  ‘I do not believe that we have been betrayed,’ said Stefan. ‘Neilsen was confident—’

  He broke off, for there was an exclamation of surprise downstairs. The front door slammed. There were urgent voices, Neilsen’s and a woman’s – both speaking in English.

  Charles looked stupidly at Palfrey.

  ‘That—that’s Muriel!’

  Palfrey said: ‘I don’t think we’ll have much time for Muriel.’ He stood watching the door as footsteps sounded on the stairs, the girl’s hurried and sharp, Neilsen’s much heavier and more deliberate. Yet he reached the door first and opened it, and Muriel came in, breathless, bright-eyed; she was dressed in the black Persian coat and the fez fur hat.

  She said: ‘They will be here in ten minutes, Lozana and several others, and they are determined not to let you escape alive. You must get away.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Muriel’s Last Effort

  Charles said in a harsh voice: ‘Haven’t we had enough of you?’

  Muriel cried: ‘You must get away. One of them followed Andromovitch, he returned and gave Lozana the address. They are waiting only until they are sure you and Charles are here and then they will raid the house.’

  Palfrey said: ‘You laughed when Drusilla walked into trouble, didn’t you?’

  ‘Of course I laughed! They still think I am working with them, I must keep up that pretence until it’s all over. I must make Bane think that I am with him, not against him—although in Berlin I tried to tell you. I didn’t go on, you were obviously determined to disbelieve me. I’ve managed to fool Bane for a year, I’ve kept up the pretence no matter what it cost. I even helped him and Dias at the Splendor—he was already suspicious—if I had not I think I would have betrayed myself. Now—if you stay here for another five minutes, n
one of you will get away alive. I might,’ she added, and repeated: ‘I might, if I can get away before they come.’

  Palfrey said: ‘You’d lead us out into an ambush, my dear. We have met you before, you know.’

  She looked at him levelly. It was hard to believe evil of her, and there was a burning sincerity in her voice.

  ‘Palfrey. I can’t make you believe me, but I am on your side; my work was to find out the truth about Bane, and I have done that. Only today I reported to the United States Embassy, they’ll have been on the radio telephone to Washington by now. I can’t make you save your lives, but I can tell you that if you don’t leave here—now—you’ll never get out.’

  Palfrey looked at Stefan. Charles burst out: ‘She’s lying again, she’s done nothing but lie.’

  Muriel said: ‘Don’t blame me for what happens, Palfrey. I have helped before. I managed to get van Doorn away.’

  Palfrey remembered in a flash that van Doorn had said a girl had been with the men who released him. He said: ‘Why was a man killed in his place?’

  ‘Because they hoped to make the police believe it was another terrorist crime,’ she said. ‘They thought van Doorn knew more than he did. But you’re wasting time!’

  ‘Perhaps. Why did they kill Laander?’

  ‘He had a token—one with a cleft in the chin—and had worked with them. He learned how big it was and planned to leave them. They named him to you, hoping you would concentrate on him. They wanted to frame you for his murder. They murdered von Kriess because he suspected the truth … They killed Garon in Paris by inciting the mob because he had discovered too much about them. They drove Midaut to suicide, and they’ll kill all of you if you don’t leave now!’

  She turned and walked towards the door. Neilsen put out his hand to stop her. Palfrey shook his head. She went on to the landing, did not turn round again, but went slowly down the stairs. Charles cried: ‘Palfrey, have you gone mad?’