Come into my Parlour (66 page)

The injury to Gregory's ribs had made his breathing painful for the last three hours, and now that he was walking the pain became considerably greater. Yet the imperative necessity for keeping his wits about him helped to take his mind off it.

As they approached the Villa they began to go forward very cautiously, but the road was entirely deserted, and for the last hundred yards a tall hedge gave them excellent cover. When they reached the gate they waited beside it for a moment, listening for any sounds that might give them warning if an ambush had been laid. It was very cold. Erika shivered slightly and drew her fur coat more closely about her. Gregory took a step forward, and, raising himself a little from a crouching position, peered between the ornamental wooden bars in the upper part of the gate. No lights showed in the house and there was no sign of movement among the deep banks of shadows in the garden. With his gun ready in his hand he lifted the latch of the gate and opened it a little. Slipping inside, they closed it after them.

Side by side they stole down the garden path to the garage. Before passing round its corner they paused and listened again. They could now hear the lapping of the water across which lay life, freedom and happiness, but no other sound disturbed the stillness. Again they advanced, like two silent shadows.

As they neared the boathouse Erika could feel her heart beating wildly, and her scalp began to prickle. The summer night, now months ago, when she had crept down that path, was still vivid in her memory. Although she had not yet reached it she could already see in her mind the darkened interior of the big shed, and feel again the brutal kicks and blows that she had received there.

Motioning her to stay still, Gregory covered the last few paces to the door. Opening it gently he stood a little aside, thrust in his torch and flicked it on for a second. The eerie stillness remained unbroken. He flashed the torch again and shone it round, although, as only his extended hand was behind it, he could not yet see inside. The ruse brought no shot or sound of movement, and a great surge of hope lifted his heart. If Grauber's men were lurking there it seemed certain that at the sight of the light they would have sprung into action.

“I think it's all right,” he whispered, and stepping from behind the door he walked softly through it.

With her pistol held ready in her hand, Erika followed him in.
He flashed his torch again, and shone it round. His heart seemed to sink right into his stomach and she smothered a little cry of dismay. The boathouse contained no ambush; no enemies were waiting there to spring upon them. The place was entirely empty; but all the boats had been taken away.

For a moment they stood there, stunned by this terrible misfortune; but Gregory guessed at once what had happened. The one link in his plan which he had always known to be weak had given way. During the previous day the launch from the Villa Offenbach had been discovered there. Whoever occupied von Lottingen's house had become suspicious that the launch was being used for some illegal purpose; and, in order that the user might not reclaim it, or take one of the others, without going to the house to give an explanation of what he was up to, had removed them all.

Gregory took Erika's arm and squeezed it. “Cheer up,” he said. “This is a bad break, but at least Grauber can't have guessed yet that we're together, and trying to get back to Switzerland; otherwise the place would have been full of his people. We'll get a boat somehow.”

“But how, darling?” Erika tried to keep the despondency she was feeling out of her voice.

“We'll go along the road to the next villa and try there. All these places on the lake shore have boathouses.”

Still treading gently, they left the boathouse and made their way back up the garden path to the gate. At the very moment that they reached it a voice rang out from behind them:

“Stay where you are, or I shoot!”

Erika swung round and saw that in the porch of the house there were now several dim figures.

Gregory grabbed her arm and dived for the gate. He had scarcely pulled her with him one step towards it when the gate was flung open, and they found themselves facing another squad of men who covered them with sub-machine guns.

A whistle blew, and at its shrill blast pandemonium broke loose. Lights were switched on in the villa. Torches were flashed in their eyes, motor engines roared up the road; some of the men in front of them sprang forward, others from the Villa came dashing at them from their rear.

The first vehicle to arrive was a lorry, on which was mounted a searchlight. Its powerful beam lit the small garden with a blinding glare. Three cars drove up and squads of men tumbled out of them. But before they could even reach the gate Gregory and Erika had been surrounded, seized, and disarmed.

Against such numbers any attempt to put up a fight would have
been utterly hopeless; but as, still half-blinded, Gregory gazed around he felt that, to ensure his capture, his enemy had paid him a remarkable tribute. The place was now swarming with Gestapo men, and the arms they carried were sufficient for them to have taken on a whole platoon of soldiers. It looked as if the entire S.S. Headquarters of Friedrichshafen had been called out to participate in this snaring of one man and a girl.

Such a force could not, he knew, have been concentrated there through the simple finding of the launch, or even the discovery of Einholtz's murder and the connecting of the launch with it. Such excessive precautions against their getting away could only have been ordered by
Gruppenführer
Grauber. It seemed certain now that he had got the fire under fairly quickly and telephoned through at once.

Gregory did not think there could have been much of a margin, and supposed that the arrangements for the ambush had probably still been incomplete when he and Erika had first entered the garden; the finishing touches had, no doubt, been added while they were down at the boathouse. Still, it didn't matter now how the trap had been prepared. The grim fact was that it had worked; they were caught, and Grauber would be arriving on the scene to claim them in something less than two hours' time.

Those were the thoughts that spun through his mind as he and Erika were hustled towards the Villa. They entered its small, rather ugly hall and an S.S. officer waved a hand for them to pass on into a room on the left. As Gregory stepped through its doorway he came to an abrupt halt, and gasped with amazement.

There, beyond a small dining-table, with one of his heavy jowled adjutants behind him, stood Grauber himself.

As the door closed behind them Grauber surveyed his prisoners with his solitary baleful eye.

“So we've got you at last,” he piped.

“Yes, you've got us,” Gregory agreed in a tired voice. The hurly-burly of the last few moments had temporarily taken his mind off the ache in his ribs, but it was now gnawing at him again. “Still,” he added, “I'd be interested to learn how you did it. Or, rather, how you managed to get here ahead of us?”

“It was quite simple, my dear Watson,” Grauber grinned. “We were held up by the smoke in the cellars for a bit, and the door of the Countess's dungeon took some hard work to break down. But once we were inside I found the broken chain which had secured her to the bed. It had been shot through with a pistol. I found the bullet in the mattress. As she had no weapon and no clothes I felt certain that she could not have severed the chain and got away on her own. Naturally, knowing that you were due at Schloss Niederfels tomorrow night, my
mind flew to you. I realised that, as you have always liked to play the lone wolf, you must have decided to leave the others behind and go into Germany on your own, two nights ahead of schedule.

“Fortunately, as I was on the spot, I was able to deal with matters. I telephoned to the Villa here, where we have always had a man, and learned from him that the Villa Offenbach's launch was in the boat-house. It needed only that to confirm my theory. I telephoned Friedrichshafen to make the necessary arrangements, got into my car and drove here by the shortest route myself. I imagine that you must have taken a longer one, as by the time I got here I expected you to be already a prisoner. But as it was, I beat you to it by a good quarter of an hour. By the by, I hope you appreciated my artistic touch in instructing my people to let you go down unchallenged to the boat-house, so that, just as you thought you had beaten me, you should find there were no boats.”

“It was typical of your kindness,” said Gregory.

“I am kindness personified,” leered Grauber. “In fact, so kind that, as I told you when we met in Russia, I am not going to hurt one hair of your head—yet you are going to tell me all you found out there.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then the charming Erika will give us an exhibition of a mad animal gibbering to be put to death; and I assure you that it will be a very lifelike exhibition indeed.” Grauber ran his tongue over his thin lips, then suddenly added:

“Either I'll call my men in to strip her and begin, or you'll talk at once. I've no time to waste in fooling about tonight.”

“Neither have I,” replied Gregory, with equal firmness. “I don't want to be stopped by the Swiss patrol boats, so we've got to be across the lake before dawn.”

Erika was staring at Grauber in fascinated horror. At Gregory's words she turned and gave him an incredulous look.

“Don't be a fool,” snapped Grauber. “I mean exactly what I say.”

“So do I,” Gregory countered swiftly. “And what is more, you are going to cross the lake with us. At least, you will if you wish to retrieve anything out of the mess that Einholtz has made.”

“Einholtz?” Grauber repeated in a puzzled voice, a faint uncertainty suddenly showing in his single eye. “D'you mean that you didn't just decide to slip into Germany on your own; but realised that there was a trap set for you, and that Einholtz was one of my men?”

“I do.”

The uncertainty in Grauber's eye deepened. “When,” he said slowly, “when did you find out about Einholtz?”

“The very first night I met him,” Gregory replied amiably.

“
So!
” exclaimed the
Gruppenführer
. “And you talked to him about Russia?”

“I did. I told him every single thing I knew, and—er—just a little more.

“
Zum Donnerwetter!
” Grauber roared, smashing his fist down on the table.

For a second he paused white-faced and trembling, then he swung round on his adjutant.

“Kobler! Get me on to the
Führer's
Headquarters. At once! Instantly! Use the highest priority! Clear all lines!”

As the adjutant dashed from the room Gregory laughed and said: “So Einholtz
did
pass on that false information I gave him about the impending counter-offensive from south-east of Moscow. And you passed it on to the
Wehrmacht
, eh? I wonder if they acted on it? If they did I'll have killed a hundred thousand of you filthy swine before Christmas, and saved Moscow. My God! If Erika and I have to die, that will be something worth dying for.”

“Oh, darling!” Erika cried, clasping his arm. “Oh, darling! What an amazing feat!”

“You
are
going to die,” snarled Grauber, the sweat pouring down his face. “But I'll see to it that neither of you finally expire for months; and that every minute of every day of those months shall be passed in a living hell.”

“We are
not
going to die,” Gregory flung back. “We're going across the lake to Switzerland; and unless you're more of a fool than I take you for, you're coming with us.”

“Why?” panted Grauber. “Why? What other devilry have you been up to?”

“I take it you'd like to fetch von Osterberg back?”

“Von Osterberg?” The puzzled look crossed Grauber's face again. “What the hell would I want with that wreck of a man?”

“I should have thought you would have been pretty anxious to get him back into Germany.”

“What for? He is on a string. Einholtz has charge of him. In due course Einholtz will bring him back.”

“Are you quite sure of that?” asked Gregory quietly.

“Certainly I am. Einholtz may have done something to give himself away to you; but in all essentials he is absolutely reliable, and a very able man. He knows the importance of maintaining control of von Osterberg and you could neither bribe nor trick him into neglecting that.”

“You agree, though, that it is important to you that Einholtz should have maintained control of the Count?”

“Well, perhaps,” Grauber admitted. “As an able scientist we may find some further use for him.”

“What would you say if I told you that I had kidnapped von Osterberg?”

“Firstly, I should say that you were a liar. Secondly, that even if you have it will not do you the least good. You see, I know that you are lying. For you to have slipped through Einholtz's fingers is one thing, and for you to have kidnapped the Count from under his very nose is quite another. Einholtz had orders to live with the Count, to sleep with him and to shoot him if he attempted to escape. So, you see, it is no use your trying to put over this useless bluff.”

“I fear that you have made the fatal error of slightly underrating my capabilities,
Herr Gruppenführer
. Believe it or not, I succeeded in kidnapping the Count.”

Grauber shrugged. “Your persistence in this matter is quite pointless. The Count is of little value to anybody; so what could you hope to gain by such an act? Anyhow, I know you to be lying. Because, if you had done as you say, by this time Einholtz would have informed me of it.”

Gregory's hand went towards the left pocket of his overcoat.

“Don't move!” snapped Grauber, lugging his pistol from its holster. “I suppose there were so many of those fools outside that each thought the other had searched you for weapons.”