The Final Enemy. An Inspector Faro Mystery No.12.

by Alanna Knight

  Poison indeed!

  But although he told himself he was being foolish, he was haunted by uneasy dreams and awoke next morning feeling slightly under the weather, with an inability to rid himself of that spine-tingling awareness of danger which had little to do with a faulty digestion.

  But who would want to harm him here, of all places? Looking out of his window at the front of the hunting-lodge, he realised this was the very place where the assassin had struck; where two of Amelie's servants had been slain and she herself almost fatally wounded.

  Breakfast was brought to him. Coffee, warm bread, butter, ham and cheese. But he ate little.

  He went downstairs, his feet echoing on the boards. The lodge seemed uneasily deserted and he almost jumped when a door opened to admit the Colonel.

  After the usual polite questions about whether he had slept well, to which Faro gave polite but untruthful answers, he was told there was a message from Amelie.

  'She wishes to show the kind policeman who did so much for her in Scotland one of her favourite places here in the Odenwald - once an old woodcutter's cottage that the Kaiser had restored and gave to her as a gift long ago. It has been a retreat for George and herself. She has already left with the two boys. There is a horse for you, ready saddled. The track is well-marked - I will direct you. It is less than a quarter kilometre away.'

  Faro was in a quandary. Naturally the Colonel presumed that all men of any substance rode, knowing little of the circumstances of Edinburgh policemen. As he followed the Colonel to the stables, Faro hated to confess that his Orkney boyhood had included few opportunities for equestrian pursuits.

  A horse was led out to a mounting block.

  'He belongs to Anton. A gentle beast, well-behaved,' said the Colonel, patting the animal's neck. 'Thoroughly reliable,' he added as if aware of Faro's apprehensions.

  Mounting was easier than he expected, and Faro moved off, watched anxiously by the Colonel. Trying to appear as an experienced horseman, he realised that with the Colonel's usual tact, a boy's horse had been selected for an indifferent rider.

  As he proceeded up the track, taking his time, trotting slowly and carefully, a shot rang out. It was close by and Faro had a confused thought that there must be a shooting party, perhaps some of the servants bringing down game for the larder.

  Another shot, closer at hand. The beast neighed, terrified, as Faro felt the wind of a bullet across to the horse's mane. It had narrowly missed him but was close enough for the beast to rear.

  Faro was unseated, lost his reins and fell to the ground. Stunned and winded by the fall, some instinct told him not to move. Whoever fired that shot, he was the target.

  As he lay inert, as if he had been hit, he tried to decide on the next move.

  Suddenly everything was becoming sickeningly clear to him. Perhaps this whole trip to Mosheim had been arranged. A trap for him, now that the truth about George's parentage was out. And with such a deadly secret and its political consequences, he was never to be allowed to leave alive.

  Cautious footsteps were approaching. He was lying curled up, vulnerable, on the ground.

  The terrified horse had vanished back down the track and Faro knew that death was very near. He was totally unarmed. His only hope lay in his killer believing he was dead.

  He saw a pair of boots, well polished. The butt of a rifle. A kick at his ribs. A grunt of approval.

  As long as his killer believed he was dead. If he could spring into action before the man had a chance to raise that rifle and fire again.

  This time there would be no possibility of missing.

  At point-blank range.

  The man leaned over him, breathing heavily...

  Chapter 27

  Like a coiled spring, Faro unwound, seized the man's legs and threw him to the ground.

  Dieter!

  Taken by surprise, Dieter lost his grip on the rifle, which began to roll away down the slope. Faro strove to hold his attacker and at the same time reach the rifle, but Dieter was younger and stronger and Faro realised that he was no match for him. A sudden blow to his stomach had Faro retching, falling away, rolling, his gathering momentum halted by a boulder which cannoned into his side.

  He felt the agonising crack and the next moment, Dieter was standing over him, the rifle pointed at his head.

  'Mr Faro, you never learn, do you? Yes, I am going to kill you, make no mistake about that this time. I have my orders.'

  'I thought you went back on the train to Luxoria,' gasped Faro, fighting for breath and playing for time.

  'I jumped off and made my way here - and here I am. This is our last meeting, you shall die here, and I shall have carried out my part in the the plan.'

  'What plan?'

  'Mr Faro, it was never intended that you should leave here alive. Especially when the truth was known.'

  'What truth? I don't understand.'

  Dieter gave him a thin-lipped smile. 'Everyone who has seen you with George must have guessed the truth. There are many disguises a man can have successfully, but when his offspring is his image - the President guessed some time ago that George was not his child. And now I think everyone who has seen you together knows. You are not a fool, Mr Faro, you must see that you have walked into a trap. You are a marked man, too dangerous to remain alive and I have orders to kill you.'

  Faro sat up, each breath an agony.

  'You can get to your feet if you wish. That will not help you. But you may choose how to die. There on the ground like a dog, or like an Englishman, bravely facing the firing squad,' Dieter added mockingly, clearly enjoying the situation.

  'Thank you for your consideration,' said Faro, rising to his feet unsteadily, incapable of making any sudden moves, and without any hope of taking Dieter by surprise again.

  Faint and dizzy with pain, certain that his ribs were cracked, his shoulder agonising, perhaps broken, he leaned weakly against a tree for support. He knew that there was no escape, only a few minutes remained of a life that was almost over.

  What a way to go, he thought bitterly. That he of all people, with all his experience, should have walked into such a trap! There was no comfort in knowing that this trap was one no father could have resisted when the bait was his own son.

  Dieter seemed in no hurry to kill him. Was his leisurely manner regret? Faro did not think so. More likely a sadistic enjoyment of having his victim helpless before him.

  Occasionally he glanced beyond Faro down the track, his face expressionless. Who was he expecting?

  Whoever it was Dieter did not seem perturbed or anxious and Faro realised he need not entertain hopes of a last-minute rescue party. Tempting fate, he said, 'Well, I am ready. Get it over with. What are you waiting for?'

  Dieter smiled grimly, shrugged. 'I am in no hurry. You have been very clever, Mr Faro - indeed there were times I almost began to like you. To feel that we had much in common, the paid policeman and the paid bodyguard.'

  'Or the paid assassin,' Faro put in sourly. But curiously he had sometimes felt aware of their similarities. Could it be that Dieter had finer feelings that might be appealed to? Even at this moment, could he be persuaded to let his helpless victim live?

  'What happened to Helga?’ he asked. 'Did you kill her?'

  Dieter laughed. 'Helga! It was Helga you have to thank for realising immediately that you were George's father. She saw the likeness - a woman's intuition, of course.'

  'You did not kill her for that.'

  'I did not kill her at all. As far as I know she is in Germany with her family.'

  'But you needed someone to send the telegraph to persuade George that his mother was in Luxoria.'

  'Correct, Mr Faro. You have hit the nail on the head, as they say in your country. And I was speaking the truth when I told you she had never boarded the train with us,' he added reproachfully.

  'And talking of trains,' Faro put in. Even now certain that he was to die within the next few moments, he felt impelled to know the tr
uth. 'When you disappeared from the railway hut to risk wolves and worse to go to the telegraph office, I presume that was all part of the plan.'

  Dieter smiled. 'I knew that the President's crack regiment was somewhere in the vicinity in readiness for the arrival of the Luxorian train. I thought of an excellent way of obeying orders that would greatly please the President for it was most economical. First they must kidnap Anton so that he would be safe.'

  'And plant the explosives for the rest of us, was that it?' said Faro grimly.

  Dieter nodded. 'Exactly. A time-saving measure.'

  'To kill an innocent child?'

  Dieter's expression did not change. 'Alas, the innocent often die with the guilty - such matters are not for me to decide, indeed they make little difference in my profession, one way or another, Mr Faro.'

  He shrugged. 'Besides George will die sooner or later, the President will see to that. And you have always been expendable.'

  The man's cold-blooded dedication appalled Faro. What hope was there of mercy from such a man?

  Suddenly there were sounds. A rider approaching fast up the steep track.

  A rescuer after all, Faro thought hopefully. Until he saw relief on Dieter's face. And realised that this was the moment he had been waiting for.

  Still covering Faro with the rifle, he motioned him into the open. Looking over his shoulder, Faro saw the Colonel dismounting and shouted, 'Thank God you arrived in time.'

  But the Colonel ignored him and turning to Dieter, said in German, 'I heard a rifle shot. I thought it was all over.'

  Even as Faro thought he had misinterpreted the fatal words, Dieter bowed. 'Mr Faro eluded that one. I thought you might want to deliver the ‘coup de grace’ personally.'

  The Colonel shook his head and Faro stared at him unbelievingly. So he, too, had always been part of the plan.

  Dieter shrugged. 'No? Very well' And raising the rifle. 'Farewell, Mr Faro.'

  And Faro closed his eyes. Goodbye, George. Goodbye, world.

  He heard the explosion. But he was still alive.

  Dieter was lying on the ground. Dead with a bullet through his forehead.

  Birds were screaming overhead and there were other sounds, faint voices echoing far-off.

  The pistol in the Colonel's hand was turned towards him.

  Suddenly the sky fell in on him and the darkness of death once more enfolded him.

  Chapter 28

  He was being torn apart by wild animals, one of them was ripping off his shoulder.

  Faro screamed and opened his eyes to find he was propped up on a bed in the hunting-lodge. An elderly man, presumably a doctor, was bending over him, tying a bandage across his chest. Behind him stood Colonel Karl zu Echlenberg, the man he had trusted. The man who had ordered his execution.

  The doctor spoke a few words to the Colonel, bowed and left them.

  'Your ribs are broken but our good doctor has set your dislocated shoulder. The pain of it made you pass out. It was as well you were unconscious when we carried you back. Very painful - I am sorry about that.'

  'It could have been worse. I could have been dead,’ was Faro's laconic reply.

  The Colonel sat down by the bedside, shook his head and said, 'I could not let him kill you. Even had I wished to do so, it was too late,' he added wryly, 'since George and Anton had appeared on the scene. They had been on the archery course, heard the shots - '

  'Then it was true - what Dieter told me.'

  The Colonel nodded. 'That you were never meant to leave Luxoria alive. To bring George back and then you were to be disposed of.'

  'What was it to be? What had you in mind?' Faro asked bitterly.

  He smiled grimly. 'A convenient accident, Mr Faro. This is just one of the sad facts of political necessity. You are not a foolish man, surely you can realise that.'

  'Did Amelie know?' Faro put in anxiously.

  'Of course not,' was the scornful reply. 'She would never have allowed any harm to come to you. Perhaps if she knows that I spared your life, she will be grateful.'

  Faro said nothing. He had no emotions to spare for a lovesick Colonel who had sacrificed a family life for a useless infatuation for the Grand Duchess Amelie of Luxoria.

  The Colonel was looking at him wistfully, obviously hoping for a consoling response but all that Faro could say was, 'I don't think one should mistake gratitude for love or that any man would want a wife on such conditions.'

  There were more urgent matters on Faro's mind. 'And the Kaiser? Did he know of this plan?'

  The Colonel shrugged. 'I think not. But perhaps he suspected something was in the wind and that was why he diplomatically absented himself. He seemed anxious not to meet you, Mr Faro. I know him well and this is not quite in character, especially since you are a close and trusted servant of his beloved grandmother.'

  By whose orders he had been instructed to return George to Luxoria, Faro thought coldly. He was beginning to suspect everyone in this plan to dispose of him, even Her Majesty the Queen.

  The Colonel was saying, 'Wilhelm has no reason to hate you, unlike myself. As my rival for Amelie's affections, you have long been the unknown man who stood between us and I would gladly have had you dead. But if I destroyed you it would not make Amelie love me and I never give up hope that someday she may.'

  He smiled sadly. 'And then I did not know you, but now we have met and I have put a face and body on this hated rival. Then there is George, whom I love like my own son. In Amelie's many difficult times, when she has sought refuge here, I have felt that I stood in ‘loco parentis’. I was in a quandary. I could see the boy had formed an affection for you, as well as my nephew Anton. You had saved their lives.'

  He spread his hands wide. 'But what could I do? The arrangement had already been made.'

  And Faro remembered the scene he had witnessed, the brief tense words between the Colonel and Dieter as the latter apparently departed with the train to Luxoria.

  'Dieter was to return, make his way to Mosheim and kill you. I could not do it myself, although I have killed of necessity in battle, I have never taken any man's life dishonourably. But Dieter is a hired assassin. It is merely another job of work with him.'

  Leaning across, he put a hand on Faro's arm. 'But you are safe now, Mr Faro. You have my word as an officer and a gentleman. Now perhaps I can help you into these - ' he indicated a shirt and jacket on the chair nearby.

  'Another new suit,' said Faro wryly.

  'There are wardrobes of them here in the hunting-lodge, as I told you. Besides, those ones were required elsewhere,' he added grimly.

  At Faro's puzzled glance he continued. 'There is a mill-race you will remember passing by on the way up to the old woodcutter's cottage. By now it will have received Dieter's body in your clothes. By the time it is recovered, it will be unrecognisable as the policeman from Edinburgh,’ he added grimly. ‘And President Gustav will be satisfied, having received secret information that his orders were carried out.'

  'What of Dieter - won't he be expected to return to Luxoria, now that he is no longer needed as Anton's bodyguard?'

  The Colonel shrugged. 'Dieter would not be welcome. He failed in his mission to return Anton to his father and to eliminate George. Such services are expendable and since it is in the nature of hired killers to come and go without anyone expecting explanations, no awkward questions will be asked.'

  And with a swift change of subject, he leaned forward and held up the shirt. 'But this, I am afraid, is going to be awkward -and painful.'

  It was.

  When the last button was fastened, a tap on the door announced George and Anton.

  George rushed over to him. 'Are you all right, sir? We were on the archery course waiting for Mama to arrive.'

  Faro glanced in the Colonel's direction, who shook his head. Amelie waiting to receive him in the woodcutter's hut had been part of the well-laid trap.

  'We heard the shots and decided to have a look, especially as there isn't suppos
ed to be any shooting up there,' said Anton.

  'You must come and see our archery course and my falcon,' said George eagerly. Then looking across at the Colonel, 'Mama is waiting to see Mr Faro, Uncle Karl.' And to Faro, 'She heard that Anton's horse had thrown you. Please don't tell her what really happened. She might be frightened.'

  'I cannot believe it,' said Anton. 'Dieter must have gone mad to have attacked you like that, Mr Faro. And after saving all our lives, too.’

  Faro could think of no answer suitable for the boys. 'I was very thankful that your uncle arrived in time,' he said with a grateful smile in the Colonel's direction.

  'It was dreadful,' said Anton. 'I had never seen anyone really dead before, Mr Faro. Just pretend in plays.'

  'It was just like one of the adventure stories they try to keep from us at Glenatholl. But this was real blood,' said George with a shiver.

  'Where is your Mama waiting?' the Colonel put in quickly.

  'In the salon. She is not allowed to climb stairs until she is properly well again.' And remembering Faro's accident, 'Can you walk, sir, if we help you?'

  'You're very kind, George, but I think I can manage. It's my ribs that are cracked, my legs are fine.' And with a wry smile, 'Somewhat shaky though to find I am still in one piece.'

  When they reached the room where Amelie waited, the Colonel said to George, 'Your mother wishes to talk to Mr Faro alone.'

  'Very well, sir,' said George, sounding a little disappointed and looking at Faro as if he did not wish to let him out of his sight.

  'You must tell her all that has happened, Mr Faro, since we left Glenatholl. She will want to hear all the details. Leave nothing out. Everything - remember!'

  Not quite everything, thought Faro. There were some things George must never know.

  Chapter 29

  As he entered the room, Amelie looked up from the sofa where she was sitting. This time there was no formality. She indicated a place beside her and took his hand.

  'My dear, I am so sorry. Karl tells me you had an accident with Anton's horse and you have cracked ribs. Is it very painful?'