The switch that operated the current to the walls was in the lodge at the entrance gates. In the morning when the tradesmen arrived it would be necessary to cut the current to let them in. Girland might discover this and make a break over the wall. But could he discover this?
Suddenly losing his appetite, von Goltz left; his meal half-finished. He turned to the footman standing behind his chair and told him to get Sandeuer immediately.
Silk too had lost interest in the food and again pushed his plate away.
'What is it?' he asked, eyeing von Goltz.
'Girland...' von Goltz got to his feet. 'I don't like the idea of him being out there... free. I know he can't get away, but...'
The door opened and Sandeuer entered.
'What is happening at the lodge?' von Goltz demanded.
'It is all right, Excellency,' Sandeuer said, bowing. 'I have three armed men there. They will remain on duty all night.'
Von Goltz relaxed.
'Good. Make sure they are continually on the alert.'
'Yes, Excellency,' and Sandeuer withdrew.
'A little cheese perhaps?' von Goltz said, sitting again at the table. The reassuring news had restored his appetite. He was now sorry to have dismissed the meat course.
'Not for me,' Silk said impatiently and walked across the room to the open french windows. He moved out onto the terrace and stared across the moonlit lawn to the dark forest.
Von Goltz regarded the basket of cheeses, hesitated, then with a muttered curse, shoved back his chair and joined Silk on the terrace. He disliked Silk. This tall, cold American had no manners and his ruthless face unnerved von Goltz. He knew this man had the ear of his uncle. He was sure a critical report from him would mean he would be turned out of the Schloss. He had no illusions about his uncle. When a man was found wanting by Radnitz he was either dismissed or worse, he disappeared.
'What is it now?' he demanded.
'I'm trying to put myself in Girland's place,' Silk said. He lit a cigarette. 'I'm beginning to wonder if we are being fooled. We are assuming because Rosnold tried to escape, Girland and the girl also made a break. We are assuming that while Rosnold killed the dogs, Girland and the girl got down on to the terrace and made for the forest to the right instead of crossing the lawn as Rosnold did. But suppose they didn't? Suppose instead, they went upstairs? If I had been in his place, I think that is what I would have done. There are many rooms in this place . . . many places to hide in.' He looked at von Goltz. 'We could spend days hunting for them in the forest while all the time they could be right here.'
Von Goltz stiffened.
'Surely Girland wouldn't be so stupid as to let himself be trapped here?' he said. 'He had the chance to get into the open ... surely he would have taken it?'
'Would he? He isn't to know you have no other dogs. I think he could still be here... with the girl'
'We'll soon see. I'll have the place searched.'
'Even if they are not here,' Silk said, 'it will give your men something to do. Yes... have the place searched.' He returned to the dining room. 'I think I will now have a little cheese,' and he sat down at the table.
Von Goltz sent for Sandeuer. This was the second time Sandeuer's dinner had been interrupted. When he received the message that the count wanted to see him immediately, he threw down his knife and fork with an oath. The five senior servants who were eating with him, concealed grins. Sandeuer was not popular. The chef said he would keep Sandeuer's dinner hot and Sandeuer, still cursing, hurried upstairs to the dining room.
'It is possible.' von Goltz said as he cut a large wedge of cheese, 'that the fugitives have not escaped into the forest. They could be still here. Take men and search every room.'
Sandeuer thought of his unfinished dinner.
'Yes, your Excellency,' he said bowing, 'but may I suggest that as the top floors have no lighting and are crowded with furniture, a thorough search by flashlight would be difficult. If I may suggest the search could be much more thorough tomorrow morning when the shutters can be opened and every inch of the rooms upstairs examined.'
Von Goltz looked at Silk who shrugged.
'Very well, but post a man at the head of every landing. He is to remain there and keep watch. As soon as it is daylight, the search is to begin.'
Sandeuer bowed and returned to his dinner after giving instructions for the landings to be guarded.
* * *
Girland decided it would be safer to go up to the fifth floor of the Schloss. He had checked the number of floors - eight in all - when he had arrived. By going up to the fifth floor, he had three more floors in which to manoeuvre should the need arise.
Holding Gilly's hand and using his flashlight sparingly, he led her down the long corridor to the stair head. The thick carpet deadened their footfalls. All he could hear was Gilly's fast breathing, and very faintly, the clatter of dishes as dinner was being served below. He thought regretfully of the food he was missing.
They went silently up the long flight of stairs, paused for a moment, then continued on up another flight of stairs. This landing was in complete darkness. No light from the ground floor reflected up the stair well as far as this.
Girland paused to listen. He heard nothing and moving away from the stair head, he turned on the flashlight. A white drugget covered the carpet. There was a slight smell of damp and must. He led Gilly down the corridor. On either side were doors. He paused at the fifth door. Easing the door open, he peered into darkness, listened, then turned on his flashlight.
The room was large. Standing against one of the walls was a four-poster bed. The windows were heavily shuttered.
Girland moved into the room and Gilly followed him. He closed the door.
'This will do,' he said.
'Come on... let's go to bed.'
'You will tomorrow. Hungry?'
He felt her shudder in the darkness.
'No.'
'Lucky you... I am. Well, Dumas once said the man who sleeps, dines. So let's go to sleep.'
'I couldn't... I'm too scared.'
Girland stretched out on the bed and pulled her down beside him.
'It's a pity you didn't think of being scared when you made those films,' he said, sliding his arm around her. 'Couldn't you see you were sticking your neck out when you started this blackmail idea with your father... he's a toughie if ever there was one.'
'I'd do it again!' Gilly said but without much conviction in her voice... She pulled away from him. 'And stop nagging!'
'Sorry... I was forgetting you are a mature, well-balanced woman.'
'Oh, shut up! You madden me! Listen... suppose we go down to the count and tell him he can have the films and I promise not to make any more-if he will let us go ... suppose we do that?'
'A marvellous idea.' Girland laughed. 'He will have the films by tomorrow anyway. Why should he trust you? Why should he let you go?'
'But you are going to trust me.'
'Yes, but I have to... he doesn't. Go to sleep,' and Girland moved away from her, made himself comfortable and shut his eyes. In a few moments, he was in a light sleep while Gilly stared fearfully towards the invisible ceiling. After a while, she began to think back on her past life. Although still hating her father and mother, she was now regretting what she had done. She reluctantly admitted that Girland was right. The Ban War was a weak-kneed organisation. She had only joined because she knew it would enrage her father. She thought of Rosnold, now realising with a sense of shock that she wasn't sorry that she wouldn't ever see him again. He had been her evil influence, she told herself. Without his persuasion and his flattery, she would never have made those awful films. She felt hot blood of shame run through her.
How could she have done it? Of course that massive dose of L.S.D. had made the films seem fun at the time. If Rosnold hadn't given her the L.S.D. she wouldn't have done what she had done. She was now sure of that.
If she ever got out of this mess, she told herself, she would begin a ne
w life. To hell with her father! If he became President, then the American voters got what they deserved! She would have to leave Paris. The Ban War mob would never leave her alone if she stayed. She would go to London. She had a cousin there working at the American Embassy.
He might help her find a job. She listened to Girland's gentle breathing and she envied him. She remembered their night of lovemaking. He was the sort of man she would like to hook up with, but she knew that was hopeless. He was a loner... he had called himself a mercenary. He wouldn't consider having her around with him for long.
She thought of him with envy. Men had all the advantages.
Then suddenly she stiffened and her heart began to race. Had she heard voices? She half sat up and Girland's hand closed over hers. He had become instantly awake.
'What is it?'
'I thought I heard voices.'
'Stay here.'
Although she couldn't see him in the darkness, she felt the bed ease as he slid silently off it.
'Don't leave me!' she whispered urgently.
'Wait here!' His voice was the barest sound but there was enough snap in it to force her to remain on the bed.
Girland moved to the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he put his hand on the ornate gilt door handle and gently levered it down, then he edged open the door.
A faint glow of light met his eyes. It came from the head of the stairs. Then he heard a man, speaking in German, say, 'Are you all right down there, Rainer?'
A voice said something that Girland couldn't catch.
'Me?' The first voice said. 'How can I be all right... sitting on these stairs for the rest of the night?'
There was a laugh, then silence.
Girland edged open the door and peered down the corridor. He saw a heavily built man, wearing the count's livery, sitting on the top stair at the head of the staircase. Between his knees, his hands clasped around the barrel, was a shotgun.
The sight of this man startled Girland. Why was he there? Girland asked himself. Could be that the count suspected that Gilly and he hadn't escaped into the forest but had remained hidden in the Schloss?
It seemed to Girland this must be the explanation why this man was guarding the staircase. But if the count thought they were still here, why hadn't a search been organised? Girland considered this and then realised the difficulties of searching such a vast place in darkness. It looked now that the count had sealed off the landings and was waiting for daylight.
Girland closed the door softly and returned to the bed. He sat beside Gilly and told her what he had seen and what he thought would happen in the morning.
'You mean they know we are here?' Gilly gasped fearfully.
'They can't know, but I think they suspect we could be here. Now just relax. We have a lot of space to manoeuvre in. If you do exactly what I tell you, they won't find us. But if you lose your nerve, they will find us.'
'What are we going to do?'
'We'll wait. We have lots of time.'
Gilly started to speak, then stopped. There was a long pause while Girland stretched out on the bed.
'Relax and let me think,' he said.
Gilly tried to relax, but it was impossible. She willed herself to remain still. Time crawled by. She became aware suddenly that Girland's breathing had changed slightly and she realised he was asleep. She lay by his side, miserable and envying him his complete indifference to the danger that was crowding in on them. Then she heard a sound that made her stiffen: a faint, but distinctive sound of snoring coming from the corridor.
Girland said softly, 'Hear that? The guard has gone to sleep.'
'Oh... I thought you were asleep.'
'So I was, but I sleep lightly.' She let him slide off the bed. He went to the door, eased it open and peered along the corridor. He saw the guard, sitting on the top stair, his head resting against the banister rail. From him was coming the gentle snoring sound.
Girland closed the door and switched on his torch. He crossed to the high windows.
'Come on, Gilly, we have work to do.'
She scrambled off the bed and joined him.
'Catch hold of these curtains and hold them together.'
When she had a firm grip on the heavy, velvet curtains, he took hold of the thick green and gold rope that opened and shut the curtains and threw his weight on it. For a moment it held, then came away from its fastening and dropped to the floor. He did the same with the other side of the curtain. Then he moved to the second window. Within a few minutes he had eight-metre lengths of heavy curtain cord on the floor: these he began to knot together.
'What are you doing?' Gilly asked as she held the flashlight so he could see.
'Confusing the situation,' Girland said. 'When you're in a spot, confusion is your best friend.'
He opened one of the windows, unlatched the heavy wooden shutter and eased it back. Then he stepped out on to the balcony and looked down. There were no lights showing from any of the windows below. The light of the moon lit the vast expanse of lawn, and the distant forest was only visited by the outline of the treetops.
He began to lower the knotted rope down the side of the outer wall, keeping the rope well clear of any window or balcony. The end of the rope finally dangled above the balcony on the second floor.
'We want two more curtain ropes,' he said. 'Wait here. I'll get them.'
'Let me come with you.'
'Do what I tell you!' Girland said curtly and moved to the door. He opened it, watched the sleeping guard for several moments, then slid out into the corridor. He entered the room next door. A few minutes later, he returned as silently as he had gone with two more lengths of cord. These he knotted to the end of the cord dangling from the window and then continued to lower the cord which now just reached the ground. He tied his end to the balcony rail and moved back into the room.
'It might fool them,' he said. 'Even if it doesn't, it will gain us time.'
'Can't we use those ropes? We could get out of here!'
Girland shook his head.
'I could, but you couldn't, so we don't go that way.'
She caught hold of his hand.
'Once we get free, I promise I'll leave my father alone. I won't ever bother him again... I promise.'
'All right, but first we have to get out of here. Now, let's get moving. Take your shoes off. I want to look at the other rooms. This one is too small'
They both took off their shoes, then Girland opened the door and watched the sleeping guard, then led Gilly out into the corridor. Silently, they moved away from the head of the stairs, down the long dark corridor to the far end. At the end of the corridor, double, ornate doors faced them. Girland briefly used his flashlight.
'Wait,' he said softly.
He went forward, listened against the door, turned a handle and eased the door open. He listened again, then put on the flashlight.
The beam scarcely penetrated the vastness of the room which appeared to be a banqueting hall. For a brief moment, Girland was startled to see shadowy figures lining the walls. A further probe of his light showed him this was a vast hall full of armour, fitted to stands and the walls covered with medieval weapons. He wasn't to know that in this room was one of the finest collections of Italian, German and English armour that Herman Radnitz had collected from all parts of Europe.
He returned to where Gilly was waiting.
'We have lots of company,' he said. 'Come on in. This looks as good a hiding-place as we can hope for.'
As he entered, Girland gently closed the door.
The guard at the head of the staircase continued to sleep.
***
From his treetop perch, Malik watched Girland come out on to the fifth floor balcony and lower the knotted curtain cord until it reached the second storey. He watched him lean over the balcony rail, look down and then move back out of sight. Malik guessed he was getting more cord.
The bright light of the moon lit up the face of the Schloss and Malik found it
unnecessary to use his night glasses. He eased his broad back against the trunk of the tree and waited. Girland returned and added two more lengths to the cord and then fastened his end to the balcony rail.
So they were going to make a break, Malik thought. The climb down would be dangerous: with the girl, doubly dangerous. He continued to watch with interest.
But nothing further happened. The wooden shutter remained half-open; the balcony remained deserted. A half hour crawled by. Malik then decided that this length of rope was a red herring. He nodded his approval. He had come up against Girland several times and each time, his admiration for the way Girland handled a situation increased. So, after all, Girland had decided to remain in this enormous Schloss, but to give those who were hunting for him the hint that he and the girl had escaped into the forest. Malik approved of this plan.
He remained astride the thick branch of the tree for another half hour. All the lights of the Schloss had long gone out. It would be when the sun came up behind the hills that the hunt would begin.
He considered what he should do. Girland was in there on his own. The girl would be more a hindrance than a help.
Malik remembered that moment when Girland could have had him shot, but instead, to Malik's amazement, Girland had handed him back his gun, saying to the girl who had wanted to shoot him: 'Don't get worked up, baby. He and I just happen to be on the wrong side of the Curtain. Both of us are professionals . . . working in the same dirty racket. There comes a time when we can forget the little stinkers at the top who pull strings ...' Malik remembered this incident vividly. This, he knew was something he would never have said to a man he had in a hopeless trap. Girland's words had made a tremendous impression on him. There comes a time when we can forget the little stinkers at the top who pull the strings . . .
Malik thought of Kovski, plotting at his desk, his shabby suit food-stained, his energy and thoughts bent only on mischief... a little stinker... yes... Girland was right. But Girland, with this girl, was now trapped in the Schloss. Malik decided this was the moment to pay off his debt. He remembered a phrase that was drummed into him when he was learning English: One good turn deserves another. How often had he repeated this phrase while the gloomy, red-nosed teacher had corrected his pronunciation. This phrase was a cliché, but clichés often were true.
1969 - The Whiff of Money Page 15
