The man had ordered a car, which was outside waiting to take them to the city, and he was anxious that they should set off without delay. The girl maintained that it would be an ill service to the Party if they allowed it to leak out that it had been necessary to drug the famous atom-scientist in order to get him to Prague. He agreed, but said he saw no way of making him appear normal when he obviously was not. She declared that given an hour in the airport restaurant with the Professor, and plenty of black coffee, she would have him round to normal, or very near it.
He at first demurred, from fear that he would get into trouble if he did not obey his instructions to take the Professor straight to the hotel at which rooms had been reserved for him. She said that he would get into much greater trouble if he ruined a first-rate occasion for disseminating valuable propaganda, as it was certain that a big official reception would have been ordered for such a distinguished arrival. He said that a luncheon had been arranged for later in the day, and he felt sure that nothing of that kind would have been planned to take place until then. She argued that even if that were so, he would risk a severe reprimand if, for the sake of an hour, he took the Professor into the city for all-and-sundry to see in his present state.
After some hesitation he admitted that she was right; then said that he would telephone explaining the cause of the delay and afterwards join them in the restaurant, as he could do with some coffee himself. At that she flared up into a passion and asked if he had not the sense to realise the importance of getting the Professor mentally as well as physically presentable; adding that as she was his mistress, she had a good chance of doing both if left alone with him, but could certainly not hope to overcome his resentment at having been drugged should her efforts be handicapped by the presence of a third person.
The possibility that the Professor might recover his wits, only to create a violent scene in the lounge of one of the biggest hotels in Prague, was obviously against the interests of the Party; so again Kmoch had to admit the soundness of her arguments. In the end it was therefore agreed that she should be left to do her utmost with the Professor, while he went to telephone by the private line at the airport police post, have some coffee there, and come to collect her and her charge from the restaurant in an hour’s time.
The moment that Kmoch turned his back, the girl winked at Nicholas; then she took him by the arm and led him towards the restaurant. As they entered it, under cover of the noise made by the revolving door, she whispered in English:
“Everything depends now on whether a friend of mine is still working here; and if so, what he can do for us. You can act normally, but ask no questions, and leave all the talking to me.”
Immediately Nicholas was inside the long, low room, he saw that it was not a restaurant in the true sense but run on the lines of a cafeteria. None of the tables were laid, but on a metal counter, behind which stood several girls, there were piles of cutlery, cups and saucers, trays with slots in them, and steaming food containers. Very few of the tables were occupied, as it was still early and the peak of the morning traffic was not due for at least another two hours. The only concession to making the room something more than a cheap eating place was a semi-circular bar at one end. Behind it a dark-haired man of about thirty-five, in a white jacket, was polishing glasses.
Nicholas’ companion led him straight over to the bar, un-obtrusively made the sign of the cross on it with her thumbnail, perched herself on a stool, and said in Czech, “Good morning, Jirka, I was hoping you’d still be doing the early shift. How’s business?”
The barman grinned at her, nodded to Nicholas, and replied in a loud voice, “Fine, fine. There isn’t a bar to touch this in London, Paris or New York, for variety of good liquor.” Then he added under his breath, “Lousy; and the only thing I’ve got fit to drink is some matured Slivowitz that I keep under the counter. Want a couple, or is it too early?”
“No,” she smiled, producing some Czech money from her bag. “Set them up, Jirka; I need a bracer.”
As he produced the bottle and glasses, she lit a cigarette, and keeping her hand over her mouth with the cigarette between her fingers, continued to talk softly through them. “I’m in a spot, Jirka. Unless I can get out of here pretty quick, I’ll be a dead duck.”
“That’s bad,” he murmured without looking at her. “Either way you’d be a big loss to the Legion.”
“I’m sorry to quit. Please tell everyone that. I’ve had a long run for my money, but now it’s a case of get out or go under. How’s the funnel working?”
He poured two generous portions of Slivowitz, and pushed the glasses over. “Pretty good; but those jobs need careful organising. How close are the Com’s to catching up on you?”
“I’ve just got rid of that little swine Kmoch for an hour. If we’re still here when he gets back we’ll have to go with him. He’s not fly yet, but I reckon the balloon will go up about midday. The odds are against my getting a chance to go to earth between leaving here and then; so I’ll be up against it unless you can pull a fast one for me.”
Jirka made a wry face. “Any of us would take big risks to get you out of trouble, Fedora; you know that. But it would be asking for coffins all round if we tried to smuggle you aboard a kite without proper preparation.”
Lifting her glass, she said aloud, “Here’s damnation to the American imperialist aggressors,” drank a little of the plum brandy, set it down and added under her breath, “I was afraid that’s how it would be. But I could think of no other chance that might save us from having the Com’s take us both to little pieces.”
Jirka glanced at Nicholas. “Him as well, eh? To get two of you out would make the job even more difficult.”
She nodded. “I know; but I got him into this, so it’s up to me to get him out—if I can. If you can’t help us now, have tabs kept on us, and try to get us a break if they take us from headquarters to a prison.”
“I’ll do that,” he promised, noisily mopping up his bar with a damp cloth. “But the odds against getting you out once you’ve been pulled in are pretty poor. Can’t you possibly keep yourselves off the ice until this afternoon, then come back? I reckon by then I can fix something.”
“We’ve no passes, Jirka; so we can’t get out of the airport. But talking of ice, what about the cold store?”
He grinned, showing a double row of teeth so even that Nicholas thought they were probably dentures. “You’re thinking of the time we had Oldřich in there. Yes, that’s certainly an idea. There’s so much sabotage goes on these days that they’ll hardly give a thought to just one more breakdown in the electric system. You’ll have to take a chance on getting pneumonia, but as soon as the current’s cut the temperature will start to go up.”
Her eyes brightened. “Could you fix it for us, Jirka? If we could lie low there for a few hours, we’d be over the worst fence. Then, even if you can’t work the funnel for us, we could get clear of the airport in the darkness and go to earth somewhere in the city.”
They could only just catch his words, as he began to chip bits off a block of ice with a pick and hammer. “Yes. No one goes in but the store-keeper. He and the electrician are both Legion men. But I’ve got to get you there. The girls are all reliable except for the blonde at the far end. She’s a Com, and was put in here recently to keep tabs on us. She mustn’t see that you don’t leave by way of the hall. The rest of us will swear you did when Kmoch starts asking questions. I’ll have to get her out of the way. Send her a message she’s wanted on the ’phone, or something. You had better get yourselves a meal. All to the good to have something hot inside you. I’ll get the electrician to cut the current off, see the store-keeper, then fix the blonde. As soon as you see her leave get up and walk through the door marked ‘Toilet’. Beyond it there’s an anteroom. I’ll be there to take you along to the store.”
Whispering their thanks, they drank up their Slivowitz, left the bar and went over to the long food counter. Both of them chose stew, as the mos
t sustaining item on the very limited menu, added rolls and cups of coffee to their trays, then carried them over to a table near the door marked ‘Toilet’, so that as few people as possible should notice their leaving when the time came for them to slip through it.
Nicholas had been quite worried enough when he had thought that the worst he would have to face was a spell in prison, until the Czechs had definitely satisfied themselves that he was not Bilto and could be persuaded to repatriate him; but the recent conversation had both puzzled and rather scared him; so as they sat down opposite one another, he said, hoping for reassurance:
“You and Jirka weren’t speaking literally just now, were you? I mean when you talked about dead ducks, coffins and taking people to little pieces?”
“No,” she said. “Not really. It’s just a game we play in these parts. We Czechs have a queer sense of humour. It amuses us to scare people who come from the other side of the Iron Curtain.”
Seeing his look of relief, she went on, “By coffins we mean the decorations our Government dishes out to encourage independence of thought and action.”
He had often read how, at the great Party Conferences in Moscow, the Communist leaders stressed the healthiness of criticism from the lower ranks, and believed it; but from the slight twitching of the corners of her pale mouth, he could see that she was laughing at him; and he said a little sullenly:
“It’s obvious that you are against them, and mixed up in some anti-Government movement; so naturally you would like me to go back believing all the nonsense one hears about the Iron Curtain countries behind held down by terror. But unless they are after you for murder, it is fantastic to suggest that you really fear a death sentence.”
“I don’t fear that,” she replied quietly. “Although that’s what I’ll get if we’re caught. I’m not afraid to die. It’s the thought of being taken to bits first that’s so unpleasant.”
“Oh, come. I know the Communist Party maintain a strict discipline, but there is no resemblance whatever between them and the Nazis. You’re pulling my leg again.”
She sighed. “All right. Have it your own way. The truth is that the Nazis were benevolent uncles compared with these people. But you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough if they get us. They’ll probably start the party by hanging you up by your testicles.”
“Me!” he gasped. “But why? What have I done?”
“Plenty! You are the big fish in this pond; I’m only your girl friend.”
“Look here!” he raised his voice suddenly. “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time you gave me an explanation. First you lie like a trooper, to make out that I am my cousin when you know darn’well I’m not. Then …”
With an agonised grimace, he stopped in mid-sentence. She had given him a vicious kick on the shin under cover of the table. Leaning forward, she smiled sweetly, while almost hissing between her teeth:
“Are you crazy? D’you want all Prague to know the jam we’re in? For God’s sake keep your voice down, or that blonde stool-pigeon will start to take an interest in us. Then she’ll smell a rat and refuse to go when Jirka sends to say she’s wanted outside.”
He scowled at her, but said in a lower tone, “Sorry, I’m not used to this sort of thing. All the same, if you want me to go through with it, I insist that you tell me the truth about yourself.”
“Now is not the time for that. Either it won’t be necessary, or we will have all day to talk about the love-life of the glow worm and anything else you like, while we are in the cold-room.”
“Between intervals of physical jerks to keep ourselves from freezing, I suppose,” he remarked bitterly.
“That’s it. Now for goodness’ sake try to behave normally. It will probably be another ten minutes or more before Jirka has fixed the electrician and the store-keeper. Pretend to be enjoying your breakfast, and make a show of talking to me as if you liked me—even if you don’t.”
He had already had several mouthfuls of the stew and, while disposing of two more, tried hard to think of something to say; but the extraordinary circumstances which had brought them together there seemed to rule out any ordinary conversational opening. At length, after glancing out of a window near which they were sitting, he said rather lamely:
“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
Appreciating his difficulty, she smiled and tried to help him out. “Yes. Tell me what you would do during it, if you could spend it any way you liked?”
His answer came without hesitation. “I would have one of those aircraft out there fly me to Birmingham, so that I could take part in a tennis tournament there this afternoon. What would you do?”
“I would get you to drop me off in London; then I’d do my utmost to catch up on a date I missed last night.”
“Listen,” he lowered his voice again. “Trying to fit this jigsaw together is making me go crackers. You simply must tell me what it’s all about?”
She shook her head. “I daren’t, here. It would take some time, and if we keep on whispering that blonde girl may become suspicious of us. I will tell you everything as soon as we are alone. In the meantime, it’s essential to give the impression that we haven’t a care in the world. The easiest way to do that is to go on with our game. Which aircraft shall we choose to travel in?”
Glancing out of the window again, he studied the half-dozen planes that were scattered about the nearer part of the airfield then replied, “I don’t know much about aircraft, but I rather favour the long thin one over there on the left. Which is your pick?”
Half turning in her chair, she followed his glance. Suddenly her mouth opened, and she suppressed a gasp.
“What’s the matter?” he asked with swift concern.
“Kmoch!” she murmured. “Didn’t you see him. He’s only about a hundred yards off, and walking this way. It’s not twenty minutes since he left us. Something’s gone wrong.”
Nicholas gave a quick look at the bar, then at the food counter. Jirka was still absent and the blonde girl at her place. As he turned back to his companion he saw she had lit a cigarette. While holding it in her mouth, just as she had done at the bar, she began to talk softly through her fingers:
“For some reason we’ll soon know he’s gone back on our arrangement, and is coming to pick us up. Otherwise, he would have spent the whole hour with his cronies at the police post. Any hope of our being able to hide in the cold-room has gone up in smoke now. We’ll have to go with him; but unless he has rumbled us already we can still play for time. This means that for the present you’ll have to keep up the fiction that you are Bilto.”
“I won’t!” he muttered resentfully. “If I did I’d only get myself in deeper; and I’m damned if I see why I should. Anyway, I couldn’t maintain the part once they began to question me.”
“Yes, you could,” her low voice was insistent. “Pretend to be a bit dopey still, and very angry. For the moment, the only really nasty one with which you will be faced is to give a plausible explanation why, after having agreed to come here voluntarily, it should have been necessary for us to drug you before we could get you into the plane.”
“There is no answer to that except the truth—and that’s what I’m going to tell them.”
“Oh, no, you’re not; and there is an answer. You can say that the thought of changing your mind about coming had not even entered your head. It was simply that you wanted to postpone your departure for twenty-four hours, but Vaněk would not agree to that. Blame the whole thing on him. Accuse him of acting arbitrarily and demand that he should be punished.”
He grinned suddenly, but his whisper held a sneer. “You’d like to see him get it in the neck, wouldn’t you? For that matter, so would I. But it’s about the only desire we have in common.”
“Still, you’ll play the game out on the lines I suggest?”
“No, it would be pointless. If I’ve got to meet a lot of other scientists at this reception lunch Kmoch spoke of, within five minutes they will tumble to it t
hat I am not Bilto.”
“You fool! You wretched moron!” Again her words came faint but clear from between half-closed lips. “Haven’t you the sense to realise that it is the next three hours I want you to play for? Give me the morning, and with luck you won’t have to attend the lunch. Our one last chance to escape lies in your keeping up for a little longer the deception you started yourself.”
“You knew that I wasn’t Bilto from the beginning, then?”
“Of course I did! But what’s that matter now? Kmoch will be here any minute. What d’you mean to do?”
“Tell the truth and shame the devil,” he replied tersely. “We are on opposite sides of the fence. I don’t know what you’re plotting; but you are a reactionary, and I refuse to involve myself with you further. I believe in Peoples’ Governments, so I intend to rely on the good-will and decency of this one.”
Opening her bag, she took from it a small capsule, pushed it over the table to him and said: “I’ve been a fool to bother with you; but as it’s through me you’re here I’d still like to save you from the worst. Hide that if you can until you have lost your illusions about the sort of treatment you are likely to receive from the People’s Government; then pop it in your mouth. It is cyanide, and will give you a quick get-out.”
CHAPTER VIII
BEHIND THE IRON CURTAIN
At that moment the restaurant door opened and little Kmoch in his too-long overcoat came in. Picking up the capsule, Nicholas slipped it into his breast pocket; then, instinct bidding him cover the action, he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. He was still blowing it when the short, fat man halted beside them, bent over their table so that his voice should not carry to anyone else, and said:
Curtain of Fear Page 11
