Captive Witness

by Carolyn Keene

“That was wonderful fun.” Ned grinned at Nancy. “And we’ve never looked lovelier. Now, master detective, do you have any more excursions planned for me tonight?”

  She was about to say no when nervous thoughts about her nine o’clock meeting with Gutterman began to plague her. Should she tell Ned so that he could shadow her and call in the police if necessary? Or would Ned, in his eagerness to protect her, be discovered? If so, the young detective could lose her only chance to free the children and find the valuable film!

  12

  Captive Witness

  Despite the risk, Nancy decided she had to carry out the mission by herself. She thanked Ned, and with the promise to be up bright and early for breakfast, she parted from him and returned to her room to repair some of the damage to her mud-spattered clothes.

  After a hot bath and a hasty manicure, she dressed in a simple navy-blue skirt and white blouse with a powder-blue cardigan.

  Gutterman arrived promptly at nine. Burger, of course, was with him, driving a rather battered and old-looking automobile.

  “I must apologize for the homely nature of my car, Miss Drew,” Herr Gutterman said, “but it seems that magnificent ones attract strange people who borrow and dump them in unlikely places.”

  Nancy felt her jaw tighten, but she refrained from answering.

  “But let bygones be bygones, at least for now,” Gutterman said. He smiled thinly. “Would you be so kind as to sit in the back seat with me while Mr. Burger drives? For security reasons, of course.”

  Nancy nodded. “Do you want to blindfold me, too?”

  Gutterman clapped his hands together in an expression of rapture. “How wonderful to do business with a professional! Of course, we must keep the location of this film a secret. Ja?”

  “Ja!” Nancy declared.

  Gutterman tied a large, clean white handkerchief around her head. “And now, Miss Drew, I’m sure you are going to try memorizing the sequence of every turn we make. I advise you to save your energy. You’ll only get terribly frustrated.”

  Despite the warning, Nancy tried to note all turns and stops, but the constant twisting made the route nearly impossible to follow.

  When the car came to a final halt, Gutterman helped her out and escorted her up a flight of twelve very low steps, leading her through a heavy door that squeaked badly on its hinges. Once inside, they turned right down a short hall and right again through a door that Gutterman closed and locked.

  He sat Nancy in a chair and removed her blindfold. They were in a dimly lit room with a film projector behind her and a blank white screen in front of her. Without a word of explanation, Gutterman hit the projection switch, turned off the lights and for one hour, Nancy watched the first part of Kurt Kessler’s film, Captive Witness.

  What passed across the screen was a documentary film of life inside Kessler’s homeland. Leading intellectuals, most of them with their backs to the camera, spoke against cruelty and oppression. There were segments showing beatings on the street by police and other unpleasant scenes that created a harrowing image for the oppressed countries of Eastern Europe.

  When the reel finished, Gutterman flicked off the switch and turned on the lights. “There is one more piece of film,” he said, “but it’s a waste of my time to keep watching this drivel. Have you seen enough?”

  Nancy, who was greatly moved by what she had seen, looked scornfully at the man. “Yes, thank you. Besides, I’ll see the whole thing at the festival.”

  Gutterman laughed raucously. “You have a delicious sense of humor, Miss Drew. Also a ridiculous sense of honor that actually led you to believe no harm would befall you tonight.”

  Nancy flashed her eyes. “What?”

  “Now, don’t get so upset. No harm will come to you tonight, but what astonishes me is that you actually did trust me. Nine times out often you would have been wrong.”

  “Can we get to the point?”

  “Oh, by all means. Let’s start with my proposition. ”

  “Excuse me,” Nancy said. “Let’s start with mine. The fact is that none of your people know where the children are. You’re bluffing.”

  A glimmer of annoyance crossed Gutterman’s face. He waggled one thick forefinger at Nancy. “Don’t get cute with me, Miss Drew. We not only know where they are but who kidnapped them from us as well as the precise date and time they will try to escape.

  “We will be there to intercept all of them, unless, of course, you are reasonable.” Gutterman rubbed his hands together and walked away a few paces, glancing back at Nancy dramatically. “All we want is the arch traitor, Kurt Kessler! The man who turned on his own country and who now desires to show this treacherous film about his own people! It’s a lie—all of it!”

  Nancy flared up. “Kurt Kessler happens to be one of the most respected film directors in the entire world. I’m sure he must be telling the truth, and if he isn’t, then why doesn’t your government refute him with facts and logic instead of punishing helpless children?”

  A small smile played around Gutterman’s lips. “Did you say my government? Miss Drew, I have no ideology. I am a patriot who pledges allegiance to whoever pays me the most. If, after you give me Kurt Kessler, your country wishes to buy my services, I might even steal him back for you!”

  “I don’t think we’d ever sink that low!” Nancy replied scathingly.

  Gutterman waved his hand, carelessly dismissing the insult. “You can’t hurt my feelings, Miss Drew. I abandoned them years ago. Now, what have you decided? Will you persuade Kessler to appear at the border crossing and give himself up? As I said, you can have the children and even this silly film, because they will make him renounce it. He will say the Americans made him do it.”

  Nancy tried to conceal her revulsion, knowing that the success of her mission relied partly on Gutterman.

  “You mean,” she said, her voice trembling with outrage, “that you will torture him until he denies everything he believes in? Haven’t you done enough to him already? You made him spend nine years in labor camps and four years under house arrest, and what about all the other years when his work was confiscated or destroyed?”

  “I’ve no time for your nonsense,” Gutterman said, replacing her blindfold. “I want you to contact Kessler. Let him make his own decision. You have until noon tomorrow. ”

  In a dazzling series of twists and turns, the young detective was returned to the hotel. She immediately went to a pay phone and called her father, relating Gutterman’s offer. Mr. Drew put her on hold while he contacted Kessler and then came back to Nancy with the answer.

  “Of course,” Carson Drew said, his voice crackling with anger, “I knew what Kurt would say. He’s a hero, and heroes automatically do things like this. You tell your contact that Mr. Kessler will fly to Vienna tomorrow. He will do as they request on a guarantee there will be no tricks, Nancy.”

  As her father finished speaking, tears flowed down Nancy’s cheeks, and she had a hard time keeping her voice from breaking. “Okay, Dad. No tricks, and tell Mr. Kessler we all love him.”

  Nancy went to her room, changed out of her clothes into a nightgown and stared dazedly in a mirror as she brushed her hair. The sorrow over Kessler’s probable fate, however, soon replaced itself with anger.

  “Wait a minute,” Nancy murmured out loud. “If only I could retrace the route to the building where Captive Witness was stored!”

  She knew she couldn’t possibly recall the twisting, winding way but there were other things that came to mind. The sounds, for example. She had heard trains coupling and uncoupling and there had been the shriek of a train whistle. From somewhere, too, had come the music of a merry-go-round. Where in all Vienna would that be? She had less than two days to find out!

  For several moments, too, the young detective thought of the ten children in hiding. How much longer would they remain safe from the other side?

  13

  The Stricken Messenger

  After a full night’s sleep, Nancy bounced o
ut of bed filled with energy. She couldn’t be sure of the route Gutterman’s car had taken her, but she had jotted down everything she could remember.

  She dialed Ned’s room number and was greeted by his sleepy voice. “Come on, Ned. Get up and get dressed. Meet me right way. We’ve no time to lose. Today is the big day! Breakfast in ten minutes. ”

  Half an hour later, Ned, still bleary-eyed, wandered into the hotel restaurant and slid into the seat opposite Nancy. “I can’t believe it.” He yawned. “You look radiant and I look like a sack of wet laundry. How do you do it, Nancy?”

  Nancy waved her hand impatiently and grinned. “Now stop flattering me and be serious. Look.” She pushed a map of Vienna toward him. It was crosshatched with lines of purple, green, and red.

  “What is this?” Ned mumbled, taking a swig of orange juice.

  “It’s the route to the film,” Nancy said.

  “Which film? Our film—Captive Witness?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. I saw part of it last night.”

  Ned was completely confused. “Last night?”

  The girl shook her head. “I saw it with Gutterman. ”

  “Gutterman!” Ned exclaimed.

  “I wish you’d stop repeating everything I say.” Nancy laughed.

  “Well, everything you say is so fascinating I just can’t help myself. ”

  “Let me explain,” Nancy said, and told her friend the entire story of her meeting with the man.

  “That’s really terrific,” Ned said when she had finished. “I came along to protect you and what do you do? Play right into the hands of that crook.”

  “But I had to. Don’t you see? If I had told you, they might have found out and canceled the whole thing. I’m sorry. Forgive me. But please hurry. I need you to rent and drive a car so we can retrace the route Gutterman took me on last night.”

  Ned looked at her ruefully for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. Let’s go. ”

  Once they had secured a car and were on their way, Nancy spread the map on her lap. “I think it was somewhere around here.”

  Ned paused to follow her finger. “You realize, of course, you’re pointing to half of Vienna,” he said.

  “I know.” Nancy sighed. “Well, let’s start with the red line, and keep our speed at twenty miles per hour. ”

  For more than four hours, they cruised up one street and down another with no success. At last, Nancy folded up the map and put it in the glove compartment.

  “I give up,” she said.

  “Oh, don’t do that,” Ned replied.

  “But it’s hopeless. I didn’t see any building with a flight of twelve very low steps leading up to the front door. ”

  “Shall we go back then?”

  Nancy nodded grimly.

  “Look, it isn’t worth fretting over. You did better today than yesterday. At least, this time we didn’t get chased by a hungry Doberman.”

  “Thanks for the consolation,” Nancy said, half-smiling.

  They returned to the hotel in time to meet Professor Bagley and their friends who were arriving on the tour bus. The first voice they heard was that of the little bus driver. It was loud and strident, commanding the attention of everyone within a block.

  “Strauss! Oh yes, he was so-so. He wrote pretty music—The Blue Danube and Tales from the Vienna Woods. But what is that compared to Mozart ?”

  Suddenly, Bess and George spotted Nancy coming toward them. “Nancy!” the cousins chimed simultaneously and raced toward her.

  “I see our bus driver is still at it.” Nancy grinned.

  “All the way from Salzburg.” George groaned.

  “Did he run off the road again?”

  “Not once but many times,” Bess said. “It was awful. Once he got so angry because someone compared Beethoven to Mozart that he actually stopped the bus, ran outside, and shouted into the valley, ‘Beethoven is a bore. Mozart is sublime.’ Over and over. The professor had to go out and drag him back into the bus.”

  As soon as Nancy had seen Bess and George off to their rooms, she turned to Professor Bagley and the ever-present Eric Nagy. They went to a nearby sidewalk café, and after ordering hot chocolate and croissants with butter and jam, Nancy related her recent experiences, including the fact that Kessler would probably agree to trade himself for the ten children.

  Dr. Bagley’s face drained white. “We can’t let that happen,” he said angrily. “Kessler can’t go back.”

  “I know,” Nancy said under her breath. “Have you received your final instructions regarding the time and place of the crossing?”

  “Not a word, but I expect to receive information today. I’ve been told to stay around the hotel and keep myself visible. By the way, the cat burgler struck at last. ”

  Nancy’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “You mean they took the bait?”

  “They certainly did. Last night, I left the false document in a sealed envelope at the bottom of my musette bag. I had folded the message twice and dropped a few grains of salt in the middle of it. This morning, I opened the envelope and the salt was gone. Someone did an excellent job of unsealing the envelope, reading the contents, and resealing it perfectly, but didn’t notice the salt.”

  “Well, I must say that was a bit more subtle than the business at Munich airport,” Nancy remarked. “Of course, I suppose if the theft had worked there, you probably would’ve found the bag later, thrown away somewhere, with certain things missing but the envelope left intact just to make it look like a regular robbery.”

  “Good deduction, but that would have been equally clumsy of them. Anyway, now that they have the information, all we have to do is wait for our contact to surface with the correct details.”

  Ned, who had gone to his room, returned shortly to join them, engaging in banter with Eric as they vied for Nancy’s attention. Dr. Bagley watched in amusement wearing his owl look.

  Suddenly, Nancy heard a man’s voice coming from the table directly behind the professor. “Don’t turn around, Dr. Bagley,” he said softly, but urgently. “Pretend I’m not here. I am your contact. Listen carefully. We are now free to tell you where you will find the true instructions regarding the rendezvous with the children. Look—”

  The voice stopped, choking in a half-strangled sound. Nancy whirled out of her chair to see the man fall in the throes of a heart seizure. She took the initiative, helping Ned and the professor roll the man on his back and loosen his clothes. Leaning on her extensive training in first aid and paramedic techniques, she took his pulse and bent to listen for his heartbeat.

  “I don’t hear anything,” she cried.

  Quickly, she assumed the correct position for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation while Ned, who had assisted Nancy in similar emergencies, administered chest pounding.

  In seconds, the man was breathing again and his heart began to beat. “Keep him warm,” Nancy ordered as some hotel employees appeared with a blanket. “I hope that someone has called an ambulance. ”

  Indeed, someone had, and as they waited for its arrival, the victim began to regain consciousness though he was paralyzed on the left side of his body.

  He tried to speak but could make only indistinct, gurgling sounds. Nancy tried to quiet him, but his eyes rolled wildly toward Eric Nagy.

  “What’s he trying to tell us?” Dr. Bagley said anxiously.

  But the man’s words were so garbled, neither Nancy, Ned, Eric, nor the professor could decipher them.

  “It’s a shame,” Nancy said as the ambulance came. The man tried to raise himself, pointing at Eric before falling back on the stretcher, exhausted. “I know he’s trying to tell us something about Eric, but what?” the girl muttered.

  “I have no idea,” Dr. Bagley whispered back, “but it’s impossible to discuss secret business with fifty people gaping over our shoulders.”

  “Someone ought to stay with him every single minute until he’s able to communicate,” Nancy remarked.

  “I agree, but I don’t think—” t
he professor started to say as the doctor in charge interrupted the conversation.

  He complimented Nancy and her friends for saving the man’s life while attendants carefully placed the patient in the ambulance.

  “Thank you,” Nancy said. “I’m his niece and I would like to accompany him if I may.”

  Ned gasped and the professor looked up, somewhat less startled.

  “I’ll call you from the hospital,” the young detective told her companions as the ambulance doors closed and the vehicle moved off.

  What no one had noticed, however, was the small, black car that had pulled away from the curb and followed the ambulance. In the front seat with evil grins on their faces were Herr Gutterman and Herr Burger.

  14

  The Terrible Truth

  In the ambulance, Nancy looked through the man’s wallet for some clue regarding his identity, so that should he die, contact might be made with the people who had sent him. His name was Robert Haberman and his address was in West Berlin. That was the only information Nancy found.

  At the hospital, after a prolonged examination, the doctors told Nancy that Herr Haberman was doing fine, that the paralysis was only temporary and he would soon recover.

  Nancy begged to stay at his bedside because it was important for her to speak with him, if only for a few seconds, when he regained his speech or could hold a pencil to write a message. The doctor agreed, and Nancy sat quietly next to Herr Haberman’s bed.

  “I admire you, Herr Robert Haberman,” Nancy said softly. “But how I wish you would wake up soon. ”

  Remembering her promise to call Professor Bagley and Ned, she stepped into the corridor but froze instantly at the sight of Herr Gutterman arguing with a hospital guard.

  “But he is my brother,” Gutterman was pleading.

  Nancy hesitated. “That man is not related to us at all,” she declared, hurrying forward to confront Gutterman.

  “Related to us?” Gutterman bellowed. “See here, my good fellow, this woman is not related to that patient at all!”

  “I bet he can’t tell you his brother’s name,” Nancy said quickly, watching Gutterman flounder.