by Jack Higgins
The door to number twelve stood open, and from inside he heard Steiner’s voice and it was not pleasant.
“I am really quite disappointed,” he was saying. “I had hoped to see our mutual friend, Herr Chavasse, but for the moment you will do. I am sorry Herr Muller isn’t here to greet you personally, but don’t let that worry you. I think I can safely say you’ll be seeing him before much longer. Now turn, hands high, and move out into the corridor.”
Chavasse moved three steps up the staircase and waited, his body flat against the wall. Hardt was the first to cross his line of vision, hands held above his head, and then Steiner moved into view. He was holding a Mauser with a bulbous barrel that acted as an effective silencer. It was a relic of the war years and much used by German counterintelligence.
Chavasse said, “Steiner!” As the big German swore and turned toward him, he kicked the Mauser from his hand. It hit the wall and fell onto the bottom step. As Steiner reached for it, Hardt chopped him across the back of the neck and he slumped forward on to his face.
Chavasse jumped down into the corridor, and Hardt gave him a warning cry as a man in a white jacket moved out of the open door of room number twelve and launched himself forward.
He must have been at least six and a half feet tall, with a scarred, hairless head and a face out of a nightmare. As Chavasse tried to duck, hands reached out and fastened around his throat.
Remembering Gisela’s warning, Chavasse decided this must be the terrible Karl. He allowed himself to go limp, and spit in the German’s face. Karl instinctively released his hold, and Chavasse lifted his knee into the man’s crotch.
Karl grunted with pain, but kept on his feet. His left arm lashed out, smashing Hardt against the wall, and with his right arm he reached for Chavasse. Chavasse twisted the arm around in a shoulder lock, exerting all his strength, and Karl screamed. Still keeping that terrible hold in position, Chavasse ran him forward along the corridor toward the head of the stairs. A few feet from the rail, he released the arm and kicked the German with all his force behind the left knee. Karl went headfirst over the wrought-iron rail of the landing.
As his body crunched against the marble floor of the hall, the doors of the lounge were thrown open and a woman screamed. Chavasse paused long enough to retrieve Steiner’s automatic from the floor. Hardt was already at the end of the corridor, pressing the button for the elevator.
As Chavasse arrived, the doors opened and they jumped inside. A moment later, they were running through the cellars to the boiler house. Faintly from the interior of the house came the sound of disorder, and they started across the lawn toward the wall.
Behind them, a door was flung open and there was a cry. As Chavasse entered the bushes, he heard the muted report of a silenced automatic. He slipped the Mauser into his pocket and ran on.
When they reached the wall, Hardt cupped his hands into a stirrup and braced himself. Chavasse didn’t argue. He took the offer and jumped for the top of the wall, Hardt pushing him upward.
His hands clawed across the sacking and as he pulled himself over, glass sliced its way through, pain knifing into him in a wave of agony.
He swung himself onto the roof of the summer house, and then turned quickly and leaned across the sack, reaching a hand down to Hardt. Hardt moved a little way back and then ran forward and jumped. Chavasse caught hold of his right wrist and held on.
As Hardt secured a grip on the edge of the wall, there was a crashing through the bushes below and then another muted cough, as the silenced automatic was fired again at point-blank range.
Hardt started to slip. “He’s got me in the shoulder,” he said. For a moment longer, he seemed to make an effort to hang on. Chavasse desperately tried to pull him up, but it was no use. “Get out of here, you fool,” Hardt grunted, and fell.
As he crashed into the bushes below, there was a cry of triumph from his pursuers. Chavasse didn’t wait to hear any more. He jumped down to the ground from the roof of the summer house and staggered through the bushes toward the path.
He turned out of the gates and ran along the pavement, and the pain in his arms was intense. He wrenched open the door of the Volkswagen and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.
“Let’s get out of here!” he gasped.
Anna turned in alarm. “What about Mark?”
“Don’t argue – just get this thing moving.”
For a moment, it seemed as if she intended to protest, and then she thought better of it and switched on the engine. A few seconds later, they were turning into the main road and she moved into top gear and drove very fast toward the center of Hamburg.
After a while, she said, “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “I’ve cut my arms getting across the blasted glass-topped wall, but I don’t think it’s serious.”
“And Mark?”
He told her what had happened. When he had finished, she said with surprising calm, “How badly do you think he was wounded?”
“He said it was in the shoulder,” Chavasse said. “I don’t think it could have been very serious.”
“And what happens now?” she said.
“I want some first aid for these arms, for one thing.”
“I can manage that all right,” she told him. “I’ve got a first-aid box back at the apartment.”
She drove the rest of the way in silence, and Chavasse lay back against the seat and closed his eyes. What a complete and utter mess the whole thing had been. Since Steiner knew they had talked to Schmidt, it must have been obvious to him that, sooner or later, they would be paying the clinic a visit. And yet what other move could they possibly have made?
He was still thinking about it when the Volkswagen came to a halt and he followed Anna upstairs to her apartment. She switched on the light, and turning to examine him, she gave a gasp of horror.
The sleeves of his jacket were torn in several places and stained with blood. She pulled off her coat and led the way into the bathroom. She took down a first-aid box and made everything ready before she gently eased him out of his jacket and dropped it into the corner.
There were three deep cuts in one arm, four in the other, and he laughed shakily as she bathed them with an antiseptic solution. “You know, it got pretty hot back there. For a while, I thought I wasn’t going to make it.”
She glanced up at him, a strange expression in her eyes. As she cut strips of surgical tape from a large roll, she said quietly, “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, Paul?”
For a moment, he was going to say no, but the moment passed and he nodded. “I don’t know what it is, but something gets into me. The excitement, I suppose, and the uncertainty of the whole business.”
She sighed heavily and finished taping his arms. “And that’s why you’ll never change.”
He had no time for arguments. He took the surgical scissors from her hand and quickly cut away the bloodstained section of each sleeve of his shirt. “Is there by any chance a spare jacket of Mark’s here?”
She nodded. “Yes, I think so. Shall I get it for you?” He followed her back into the living room. She went into the bedroom and came back with a grey tweed jacket. He pulled it on and buttoned it up. “Rather small, but it will have to do for the moment.”
He went into the bathroom and retrieved the Mauser from the pocket of his bloodstained jacket. Then he returned to the living room and took down, from a peg behind the door, the raincoat and green hat Hardt had originally given him.
As he buttoned the raincoat, Anna said, “Where are you going?”
“To find out what’s happening to Hardt,” he told her. “I’ve got a hunch they’ll be moving him tonight and I’d like to know where.”
She reached for her coat. “I’m coming with you.”
He gently took the coat from her and hung it behind the door. “No, you’re not. It only needs one of us to do a job like this.”
She shrugged. “All right, what do you want me to do?”
She turned away without speaking, and he went out quickly and down to the car. He drove straight back to Blankenese and, parking the Volkswagen around the corner from the clinic, went into the little bar opposite the main gates and ordered a beer.
The place was empty and the proprietor leaned on the zinc-topped bar reading a newspaper. Chavasse moved to the curtained window and stared across at the gates.
As he watched, they were opened wide by a man in uniform and peaked cap. When he had finished his task, he came across the road and entered the bar.
The proprietor smiled and laid down his paper. “Don’t tell me they’re sending you out at this time of night?”
The man in uniform nodded. “Just the sort of thing these bastards are always doing,” he said bitterly. “Give me a packet of cigarettes, will you?”
“Where to this time?” the proprietor of the bar said as he pushed the cigarettes across.
“Berndorf again.” The man snorted. “It’s bad enough on some of those country roads during the day, but at night it’s just impossible.” The door closed behind him with a crash and he moved back across the road and entered the gates.
A few moments later, a heavy ambulance came down the drive and turned into the road. A large, dark car followed close behind. They were obviously taking every precaution against being followed.
Chavasse moved out onto the pavement, considering his next move, and at that moment, Gisela came out of the main gates and crossed the street. She turned the corner into the main road and Chavasse hurried after her. He caught up with her as she drew abreast of the Volkswagen. “Can I offer you a lift?” he said.
She turned in surprise, and then recognition came to her face. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” She moved closer and there was respect in her voice. “What on earth did you do to Karl? They say he’s broken both his legs.”
He smiled and opened the door of the car. “Do you have far to go?”
She shook her head. “Not really – only to Flottbek.”
“Far enough,” he said, and handed her into the car.
He went round to the other side, climbed behind the wheel, and drove away. As they moved through the deserted streets, he said, “My friend wasn’t in room twelve, by the way. Apparently, they’ve moved him.”
She seemed genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“Was there much of a disturbance back there after I left you?” he said.
She shrugged. “There’s always a fuss of some sort going on. You get so you don’t take any notice. Some of the women are terrible, you know.”
“Are they?” Chavasse said. “Tell me, has Dr. Kruger got another clinic anywhere?”
She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“The ambulance driver was in the bar a little while ago,” he told her. “He was saying something about taking a patient to a place called Berndorf.”
“Oh, they often take people to Berndorf,” she said, “but not to a clinic. They go there to convalesce. Dr. Kruger has a friend called Herr Nagel who owns a castle there. It’s supposed to be a lovely place.”
“I see,” Chavasse said casually. “And this man Nagel – does he visit the clinic often?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “He and Dr. Kruger are great friends. He’s very wealthy. Something to do with steel, I think.”
And then it clicked into place and Chavasse remembered something he’d read in a newspaper at Anna’s apartment. Kurt Nagel was a big industrialist, a man with a lot of influence in political circles. He was one of the prime organizers of the U.N. Peace Conference, and later in the week, he was giving a ball in honor of the delegates.
If a man like Nagel was working hand in glove with the Nazi underground, then things were more serious than even the Chief had believed.
As Chavasse considered the situation, he was following Gisela’s instructions, and finally slowed to a halt outside a modest house in an unpretentious neighborhood.
“Well, it’s been nice,” he said.
She had already got the door open, and she turned and looked at him. “Aren’t you coming in for a while? It’s perfectly safe – they’ll all be in bed by this time.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Gisela. Some other time.”
She leaned across, kissed him, and sighed. “Men are such liars. I bet you anything you like, I’ll never see you again.”
He drove away quickly and left her standing there on the pavement looking wistfully after him. He had forgotten her within seconds, as his mind went back to the problem in hand.
The way things looked, they were taking Hardt to this castle of Nagel ’s at Berndorf and that meant that Muller was probably there also. There was only one thing to do – pay the place a visit, but it would be risky. As he went upstairs to the apartment, he was still thinking about it.
When he went in, he found Anna cooking in the kitchen. “I took you at your word,” she said.
He grinned. “I’ve got good news for you – I’ve managed to find out where they’ve taken Hardt. I think Muller is probably a prisoner there as well.”
She was immediately excited and demanded an explanation. When he had finished, she said, “What’s our next move then?”
He frowned, thinking about it, and then he smiled. “I think we’ll pay this place a visit in the morning. There’s bound to be some sort of inn in the village. Young honeymooners would fit the bill best.”
She blushed and started to turn away. He pulled her into his arms. “Have you any objections to spending a honeymoon with me?”
She smiled. “No, not really. After all, I suppose it’s the only one you’re likely to give me.”
He crushed her against him. “I shouldn’t count on that if I were you.”
She pulled away from him. “Then there’s still hope for me,” she said, and pushed him toward the door. “Go and sit down and I’ll bring you something to eat.”
He went and sat on the divan, and she placed the small table in front of him and brought in the food and sat in the chair opposite and watched him eating.
Afterward, as she cleared away the things and made coffee, he leaned back, content and, for the moment, happy. For the first time, it occurred to him that they might make a go of it, that after this job was over he would tell the Chief he was through.
But is anything ever that easy? he thought to himself. Even when she came and curled up beside him, her arms around his neck.
CHAPTER 9
It was a damp, misty morning when they set out, and they halted in Hamburg only for as long as it took Anna to purchase a ready-made tweed jacket for Chavasse and a cheap gold wedding ring for herself.
Berndorf was only twenty miles out of Hamburg on the road to Lubeck. Chavasse did the driving, and after forty minutes, Anna tugged at his sleeve as they approached a signpost. He swung left into a narrow lane that plunged into thickly wooded country, and three miles farther on, they came to the village.
It consisted of a single street of stone-built houses and looked completely deserted. The inn lay beyond it, an old two-storied building in heavy, weather-beaten stone, with great wooden gables that seemed almost too large for the house.
They parked the car and entered through a door that had the date 1652 carved on the lintel. The main room was long, with a low roof crossed by great beams, and had a huge fireplace in which a man might comfortably stand. There was a bright fire burning and Anna stood in front of it warming her hands, while Chavasse went to the small reception desk near the door and rang the bell.
After a while, there was movement in the dim interior and an old woman with a face wrinkled and bright entered and bobbed a curtsy.
“We’d like a room for a couple of days,” Chavasse said.
She nodded her head. “You must see Herr Fassbender. I will fetch him.”
She disappeared into the rear of the house
and Chavasse lit a cigarette and waited. After a moment or two, a large, red-faced man, with close-cropped hair, emerged from the kitchen. “You wish for a room, mein Herr?”
Chavasse nodded. “Yes, for my wife and myself – just for a couple of days.”
He tried to look suitably embarrassed, and Anna moved beside him and they linked hands. “Ah, I understand, mein Herr. I have a very nice room available, as it happens.”
He went behind the desk and produced a register, which Chavasse signed in the name of Reimarch. Fassbender took down a key and led the way upstairs. “A pity the weather is so bad, but then, it takes more than a little rain to spoil a holiday.”
He opened a door and led the way in. It was a pleasant room with a fireplace, dark oak furniture, and a large double bed in one corner. “This should suit us admirably,” Chavasse told him.
Fassbender smiled again. “I will have a fire lit for you. Would you like something to eat now?”
Chavasse shook his head. “No, we’ll wait. I think we’ll spend a little time exploring, shall we, darling?” He looked inquiringly at Anna.
She smiled. “I think that would be very nice.”
Fassbender nodded. “There is not a great deal for you to see, I’m afraid. To truly appreciate the beauty of this region, it is necessary to visit us in the summertime.”
“Any special places of interest?” Chavasse asked casually.
Fassbender shrugged. “There is the castle, of course. You can have a look at it, but it isn’t open to members of the public. There’s a path through the woods which will take you there. It starts from the yard at the rear of the inn.” Chavasse thanked him and they went outside.
As they followed the path between the fir trees, he said with a grin, “How did you like my performance? Did I resemble the young man trembling on the brink of his wedding night?”
“You almost overdid it.”
