by John Creasey
‘It is becoming obvious that he sometimes tells the truth,’ snapped the Fräulein von Lichner. ‘I ask you again to change your mind. You will be safe in Potsdam, but will only meet more danger in Berlin.’
‘Possibly!’ said Palfrey. ‘But I came here to get Ridzer and Machez. I should hate to go without them.’ He smiled. ‘You’ll pass that on to the Baron, also?’
She stared at him, her lips parted. Then she pursed them, drew herself up and walked past him. Her exit was impressive; for the first time Palfrey felt a sense of disquiet, wondering whether he had done the right thing. He turned after her and opened the door, hearing the door next to it close; obviously Stefan had been listening-in.
‘I hope—’ began Palfrey.
He stopped abruptly, for there was a sudden outburst of voices from downstairs.
He recognised Frau Witt’s, scolding, her tones growing more angry and strident with every moment. A man appeared to be trying to protest, but had little chance to speak. Suddenly there was a sharp sound that might have been a slap: a gasp, and a rumbling noise, as if Frau Witt had fallen down the stairs; then Stolte’s voice filled with an angry harshness which took Palfrey by surprise.
‘I will have you taken away if you talk to me like that! Remember my words!’
Then his footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Palfrey looked down at his companion. Her eyes seemed filled with terror, her lips parted, the pulse in her cheeks working.
‘You must hide me,’ she said, ‘you must get me away without my being seen by Stolte. He mustn’t see me!’
He stood indeterminately as the German’s footsteps drew nearer; the man was on the second landing, soon his head would appear above the banisters.
Palfrey turned to the small room, pushing the door open. As the woman stepped into it he walked swiftly towards the stairs, to try to prevent Stolte from seeing the door close.
Chapter Twenty-Six
More Talk of the Legion
Stolte laboured up the stairs, which creaked at every step, his big yellow teeth showing as he smiled at Palfrey. He made no comment on Frau Witt’s attempt to delay him and gave no sign that he had seen the door of the small room close.
‘Ah, Herr Professor, I am glad to see you again! You have rested well, yes? I hope so, I hope so indeed, for I have to take you to some places which will be of great interest to you.’
‘Nice of you!’ murmured Palfrey. He opened the door of the lounge and stood aside for the German to pass. Stolte was caught for a moment between the door and the framework. He pulled himself through and beamed on Drusilla.
Stefan sat on the corner of the table, expressionless.
‘Ah, Fräulein,’ breathed Stolte. ‘You are as fresh as the day, it is good to see you! And I have good news for all of you. The Count is very pleased with you, very pleased indeed! You did a great service to him last night and he is not a man who will forget that. You have made a friend for life!’
‘Good,’ said Palfrey, cursing the man.
‘Herr Stolte,’ said Stefan suddenly, ‘if that is true, perhaps he can arrange for me to telephone my home? My wife is ill, I received a letter this morning.’ Stefan looked haggard and drawn, and spoke convincingly. ‘I understand it is difficult to telephone from Berlin—’
‘No, no, my friend, you have been misinformed,’ protested Stolte. ‘Only sometimes are the lines closed. Today there is none of that. You will be overheard, yes, everyone is over heard—’ he beamed as if that were a wonderful joke. ‘But then, that is nothing. Please, there is a telephone not far from here. And I understand soon you are to have better quarters, more comfortable—that is because the Count is now your friend. It will be good for all of you.’
‘Yes,’ said Stefan, as if he hardly knew what he was saying. ‘Herr Professor, you will please excuse me? The telephone kiosk, I remember seeing it.’
He reached the door and hurried out, slamming it behind him. Palfrey knew that he was going in the wake of Fräulein von Lichner, at the same time paving the way for announcing his ‘return’ to Switzerland. Palfrey thought a little ruefully that the loss of Stefan would not ease their task.
‘I am so sorry about Herr Aarlack,’ said Stolte, shaking his head commiseratingly. ‘Now I wish to tell you that the assassins, who made that dastardly attack on the Count last night, are all to be shot!’ He clapped his hands gleefully. ‘They are just a number of Communists who have heard of your name, Herr Professor, and of course the Count’s. They planned to kill you all. It is a good thing your friend Aarlack was so quick last night.’
Palfrey said: ‘Have they been questioned?’
‘Quite well and thoroughly, Herr Professor; we have our own little ways! And such men deserve more even than they get. They will be shot mercifully. When they are of no use to us there is no point in allowing them to live and threaten the security of the Third Reich.’
Would his suggestion to von Lichner’s sister do any good? Palfrey wondered gloomily, and doubted it. The interrogation was over; the club-footed youth had suffered as much as a human being could; now he was to be shot. The infuriating part of it was that he, himself, was so helpless and impotent.
He hardly heard Stolte’s droning monologue for the next ten minutes, hardly observed that Stolte had edged towards Drusilla and was now gripping her hand. Drusilla showed no signs of distaste and Stolte went on talking of the wonders of Berlin. He was still talking when Stefan arrived, looking distracted. He stormed into the room and burst out: ‘I must return. It is essential that I return, she is asking for me and they do not think that she will live. Herr Professor, you will give me permission—’
‘But—’ began Stolte, turning at once.
‘Of course,’ said Palfrey quickly. ‘I am extremely sorry to hear it, Aarlack. When is there a train, do you know?’
‘In one hour a train is due to leave,’ said Stefan, ‘but it will be necessary to get to the station early. A thousand thanks, Herr Professor.’
‘Herr Professor!’ gasped Stolte. ‘Herr Aarlack is needed in Berlin, where his work is most important. He—’
‘He will not be away long,’ said Drusilla, smiling into the German’s face; more unapproachable men than Stolte would have found it difficult to resist Drusilla’s smile. ‘We shall be able to advise Herr Aarlack of all we have learned when he returns. Herr Stolte, is there another palace like that we went to last night? Do you remember our dance?’
‘Of course, Fräulein, to my dying day I shall remember the dance. But—’
‘I will help Herr Aarlack pack his case,’ said Palfrey hurriedly. ‘You will not mind entertaining the Fräulein?’ He smiled absently at Stolte, then hurried out.
Stolte was sitting on a chair absurdly small for him, gazing into Drusilla’s eyes. A fatuous smile of contentment spread, over his gross features, and once or twice he uttered a throaty laugh. Palfrey wondered how she had managed to charm him into acquiescence while keeping him at a distance.
Stolte looked round as Palfrey entered, and his expression altered.
‘Herr Professor, I am in great trouble,’ he said abruptly. ‘I have learned that you and the others of your party did not deliver up your passports—it should have been done, there has been negligence somewhere. There will be trouble because Herr Aarlack has left again with his, but perhaps it can be overlooked—if I have yours, the Fräulein’s and the others.’
There was nothing for it but to acquiesce. In real emergency they could obtain fakes, but as he surrendered his, and Drusilla gave hers to Stolte, he felt disturbed.
He left them together again, and had been in the bedroom for some time when he heard footsteps. Conroy and Brian were returning.
‘Hallo,’ said Palfrey. Conroy had closed the door. ‘Had a good trip?’
‘Fair to middling,’ said Brian, yawning. ‘It’s a place not unlike this, near the station, filthily dirty, with half the houses in the street knocked down. Railway stations can’t be healthy spots in Berlin.
Two or three people went in and out,’ said Brian, ‘and we inquired for rooms. A woman nearly as fat as Olga Loffler told us that they were all taken, then banged the door in our faces. I don’t know how we’re going to gain entry there. Still, there’ll be some arrangements made, I suppose. Where’s Drusilla?’
‘Enthralling Herr Stolte,’ said Palfrey, with a vague smile. ‘Listen.’ He told them what Stefan had done, knowing that, however much it was against their inclinations, they would agree on its wisdom.
It was not long before Stolte, looking guilty because he was late, blundered into the room. They must hurry, for they had an appointment with the Fräulein Silversen for six o’clock.
It was still daylight when they reached a large concrete building on the Adolf Hitler Platz, a vast, wide thoroughfare nearly a hundred yards across, with great gaps in the buildings on either side. Two or three times they saw huge blocks of concrete, camouflaged green and grey, standing sixty or seventy feet high. All were without windows. On the corners of each squat block poked the muzzles of antiaircraft guns.
Near one of the blocks was the building to which Stolte led them. They went down two flights of stairs. Stolte rang the bell at a door which was illuminated by a tiny blue light. After a long pause it opened.
Hilde stood there.
‘She’s too young,’ thought Palfrey, ‘much too young!’
‘I have a message, Fräulein, from His Excellency,’ Stolte said ingratiatingly, handing her an envelope which he took from his pocket. It was heavily sealed with blue wax. Deliberately, offensively, she studied the seals and then broke them open. Palfrey was surprised; she had just the right air of condescension and she looked a German.
She read quickly, then looked up and said: ‘I shall talk to them, Stolte. You will return in three hours.’
Stolte mumbled something deep in his throat as he turned away. Palfrey smiled as the man disappeared and as Hilde led them into a narrow passage, crowded when all four of them were inside, with the door closed. She pushed open another door, stood at the threshold of a small, square room for them to pass. Only when that door closed, did she alter her expression. She did more – she flung herself at Brian and put her arms about him, kissed him warmly, turned away from him and treated Conroy in exactly the same fashion. She was about to descend upon Palfrey, her eyes glowing and her expression one of sheer delight, when she stopped, took his hands, and said demurely: ‘I must not forget Drusilla, of course!’
‘Er—certainly not!’ said Palfrey.
Drusilla smiled and embraced Hilde, who laughed. ‘But perhaps I should be forgiven for anything I did! Herr Professor—’ her eyes were pools of laughter, Palfrey had never seen a greater transformation. ‘Your leader, the Marquis, was there ever so wonderful a man? He arranged all this for me. I am now close to the men who are of importance in Germany! I feel that I have burst from the horrors that were on me, that I have a chance of working—and what a chance it is! What a chance!’ she repeated, still gripping Palfrey’s hands. ‘I feel that I can really make some contribution to the defeat of Germany. Now, please, sit down!’ There were low, comfortable easy chairs about the room, and when they were seated she perched herself on a stool, her linen skirt draped about her legs and touching the floor, the light shining on her braided hair. ‘Now, that is better. And I have news! I am friendly with von Otten’s aide, the charming Karl.’ She shot a quick mischievous glance at Brian, who coloured. ‘It was easy to discover that the Count has two weaknesses—Schnapps and women, pretty women! And I am pretty enough, it was quite easy for me to make him realise that!’
Brian said: ‘Look here—’
‘Please,’ said Hilde. Although she smiled, something in her eyes suggested that there were things she preferred not to discuss.
No one spoke, and she went on: ‘Forget that, please! It was two nights ago. I had come from Norway, they believed, and the Marquis had arranged for me to have most excellent credentials. I had met Karl, who warned me against von Otten. Poor Karl!’ she added, softly. ‘He is a nice child, in many ways. If he were not a Nazi I think I could like him.’ She paused, looked subdued, then shrugged her shoulders and clasped her hands about her knees. ‘It was at the Palace of Gold. There are many private rooms, and the Count held a private party. And he was so drunk! There were four or five there altogether, and I first heard him talk of the new League of Nations. He believes that he can persuade all of the representatives of the occupied countries who join in this new scheme to help to make their people loyal to the New Order. We are to spread talk amongst our people that the Germans mean to give us our freedom as soon as the war is over. We are to induce our men to work harder for the Nazis; the bait is to be complete freedom after the war.’ She paused. ‘You think, perhaps, that it is nothing new?’
Palfrey said slowly: ‘Not as new as all that, no.’
‘There is something new to follow,’ she said very softly. ‘Because we are to give a time limit to our people. If they do not do as they are bidden, quickly—’ she drew a deep breath. ‘No, no, it is too dreadful, too dreadful. They will—’
Then she broke off abruptly.
There was a buzzing sound near the door, and she stared towards it. Palfrey saw a green light glowing above the lintel. She rose quickly to her feet and stared at them, not in alarm but in warning. She went swiftly and gracefully towards the door, unlocked it and stepped into the passage. They heard another door opening as they stared at one another all feeling something of the cold horror which she had managed to pass on to them before the interruption.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Palfrey Goes on a Journey
It was Karl.
He bowed frigidly when he saw them, evincing even less friendliness than von Otten had revealed, although Palfrey believed that this fresh-faced youth was nothing like so dangerous. He was no more than twenty-two or three, Palfrey thought, and although his face was set and grim it lacked the inhuman lifelessness so frequently seen in Nazis.
‘I regret that I am late,’ said Karl stiffly. ‘I was detained by His Excellency. How much do they know?’
Palfrey said quietly: ‘It would be wise for you to assume that we know nothing, Herr Leutnant.’
Karl looked as if he found that easy enough and began to talk. He did not sit down, but addressed them as if they were at a lecture. For the first few minutes it was a spate of Nazi propaganda which they had heard a hundred times before, nothing which seemed to justify the summoning of delegates from the occupied countries. But as Karl went on the truth began to assert itself. He listed order after order, showing the tightening of the Nazi yoke, describing the methods which were to be adopted to break resistance. Palfrey began to realise that the fear behind this new drive was solely that, unless the back of all resistance was broken, the Nazis would have a hopeless task to prevent Allied forces sweeping through the continent.
Some of them must know that military defeat was inevitable, as well as von Lichner. For the first time Palfrey saw a connection between von Lichner’s approach to him and the Legion of the Lost. He believed von Lichner was trying to arrange safe custody for himself and others when the collapse came; the others were trying to stave off that collapse. Both were active at the same time.
That was what mattered – the growing appreciation in both factions of the approach of disaster. It had a queer effect on Palfrey, half exhilarating, half depressing.
Karl was still talking.
Switzerland was not occupied by the Germans yet, but loyal Nazis who had escaped from Swiss police must make considerable contributions to the common cause. The Führer looked upon Switzerland as a vassal State, which was understandable. The difficulties in that country were greater than in some of the others, but they must be overcome. In the case of Professor Pienne and his fellow-Nazis, it was their duty to make what preparations they could and to send information to Berlin regularly. Karl did not hide the fact that for his part he considered the Swiss negligible; he was merely carryi
ng out instructions. Karl, thought Palfrey, was a little too indiscreet.
It puzzled him, and he was puzzled by other things as he listened. The way the man talked, the wildness of some of his phrases – he must realise that it would strike dread into the hearts of anyone from Switzerland. The most stalwart Swiss Nazis – and what few remained free must be stalwart believers – would have found it hard to stomach.
‘Now,’ said Karl sharply. ‘You have been given demonstrations of what has happened in other vassal States because of opposition. You have an opportunity of saving your own country. Your influence may be great or small, but you will prepare the ground for Swiss help for the Third Reich.’ He drew in a sharp breath. ‘Is that understood?’
Palfrey said humbly: ‘Clearly understood, Herr Leutnant.’
‘You will remain in Berlin for a short while longer,’ said Karl, ‘and you will be given instructions and information on how best to make your own arrangements. This time there will be no exceptions. Co-operation will be absolute, the whole man-power of Europe must be put at the disposal of the Führer. Or—’
His eyes were glittering and he seemed to be labouring under some great emotion. Palfrey watched, fascinated. It was as if the man knew of the monstrousness of what he was saying, knew of the horror which was implicit in that ‘or,’ and was keying himself up to utter the next sentence.
Abruptly: ‘Plans have been worked out for the complete subjugation of the people of all occupied countries unless cooperation is full and comprehensive. You understand? If the men and women will not have the sense to understand it, they and their children will be starved into submission.’ Karl drew a deep breath, there were spots of colour on his cheeks and his eyes were blazing. ‘That is the order! The only means of avoiding it is in your hands, and the hands of the people themselves. You have two months—that is all. Two months.’
Palfrey was glad to get into the night air of the Adolf Hitler Platz, away from Karl’s fanatical eyes. He did not think of Hilde, who was still in that underground apartment with Karl. He could not think of anything but the child Lissa.
