And shoes.
He snatched an item from the closest rack and withdrew as the gunman pushed into the room. It was Nina’s turn to call for him to hurry. He waved for her to keep going, then looked back into the dressing room – using the mirrors to see without putting his head into the gunman’s line of sight. He was taking a risk: if his opponent used the same trick to spot him, he could shoot him straight through the wooden wall . . .
But his pursuer’s gaze was fixed on the exit as he rushed past the drag queen. Eddie tensed, waiting for him to get closer—
Then attacked.
The Yorkshireman spun out, swinging his weapon – a glossy black PVC thigh boot with a six-inch platform and a ten-inch stiletto heel. The towering sole weighed well over a kilogram, striking the blond’s skull hard enough to send him reeling into the clothes racks. One of them toppled, burying him amongst its sequinned and feathered wardrobe.
Eddie hurled the boot at his head, drawing a yell of outraged pain. He looked for the gun. His adversary’s right arm was pinned by the overturned rack. He threw clothing aside, trying to snatch the pistol from his hand—
Noises from the passageway. The downed man’s comrades had caught up. Eddie instantly abandoned his search and ran through the exit.
Nina waited at the top of a flight of stairs, Krämer and the panting Cheng beyond. ‘What happened?’ she asked.
He vaulted up the steps. ‘I gave him the boot.’
Her response to the feeble pun was a long-suffering sigh. Cheng’s, on the other hand, was confusion. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I whacked his head with a kinky boot. That’s nothing,’ he added on seeing the student’s befuddlement. ‘I once broke someone’s jaw with a foot-long dildo.’
‘Not ours, I hasten to add,’ said Nina as they hurried through some swing doors.
The music became louder. They were behind the stage, a couple of outrageously outfitted drag artists awaiting their cue. An illuminated green sign marked an emergency exit, but the way was blocked by a burly stagehand, who called to more men in the backstage area for support before running at them.
‘We can’t get out!’ gasped Cheng.
‘Yeah, we can,’ Nina told him. ‘You ever wanted to take to the stage?’
Eddie hurried to a large castored prop chest. ‘I’ll catch up!’ he shouted, pushing the heavy box towards the stairwell.
Nina raced past the waiting drag queens onto the stage, Cheng and Krämer following. A trio of cross-dressing performers turned to usher them into their act, a blend of cabaret number and burlesque striptease, only to react with surprise when they saw the newcomers were not who they’d expected. The lead queen, clearly a seasoned professional well used to unexpected developments, immediately addressed them suggestively, arousing laughter from the audience.
‘Ah, sorry, wrong turn!’ Nina said, squinting into the spotlights to find an escape route. A central aisle was visible through the glare. ‘This way!’
She jumped down, Krämer behind her. The German staggered on landing, his leg still hurt. Cheng didn’t move, gawping transfixed at the performers; specifically, their very revealing cleavages. ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ Nina shouted. ‘They’re not real! Get down here!’ The young man blinked, then in a fluster hurried after her.
Eddie, meanwhile, had brought the chest to the top of the stairs – just as the blond man and his comrades rushed out of the dressing room. The leader’s gun came up—
The Yorkshireman dropped on his back as a bullet cracked over him, then kicked the box hard over the top step. The pursuers frantically scrambled back as it cartwheeled to the floor and burst apart.
Eddie jumped up and ran after Nina. The first stagehand tried to block him, but even many years after resigning from service, the former SAS man was more than capable of defending himself. Barely two seconds later, the German was on the floor, gasping. The other stagehands suddenly slowed, not wanting to join their co-worker. Eddie nodded to thank them for their good sense and ran onto the stage.
His appearance drew a mocking introduction from the lead, something about liking bald men – he didn’t understand the rest, but guessed it was rude – and more audience laughter. He gave her a bow, then leapt off the stage, seeing Nina and the others heading for the exit.
It took less time than he liked to catch up, Krämer’s leg slowing him. ‘Keep moving!’ he shouted as they reached the doors. A look back. The blond pursuer rushed out from the wings. The drag queen began another sarcastic remark, only for concern, then fear, to course through the auditorium at the sight of the man’s gun.
Eddie and Nina bustled their charges through the exit. They hurried across the lobby and out into the Große Freiheit. The street was busier than when they had arrived. ‘You see any cops?’ Nina asked.
‘Nope,’ Eddie replied. He gestured towards the Reeperbahn. ‘Police station’s that way.’ He started into the crowd, the others in his wake.
Shouts and screams sounded from the theatre. ‘They’re coming!’ cried Cheng.
Krämer grimaced. ‘I – I cannot go faster. My leg!’
‘You could hide and we’ll take the key,’ Nina suggested.
A humourless laugh. ‘Do you think I am stupid?’
‘Amongst other things, yeah! Looks like your other buyers decided to save themselves fifty thousand euros.’
‘I do not know who they are,’ Krämer protested as he hobbled behind Eddie. ‘I lied to you – there are no other—’
The Yorkshireman suddenly slowed, the sailor almost stumbling into him. Several groups of drunken young men had converged on the same stretch of street, bringing movement to a crawl. ‘Buggeration and fuckery! There’s ten stag parties going on at the same time.’ He searched for a quick route through the throng, found none, then simply barged into the crush.
The reaction was predictably hostile. Neither he nor Nina needed fluency in German to understand the insults flung in their wake. But more angry shouts rose along the Große Freiheit behind them – rapidly getting closer.
Their pursuers were catching up.
Eddie went faster, shoving people aside. A youth in a football shirt screamed slurred abuse after him, his similarly attired friends joining in – then Cheng yelled in shock as one yob knocked him to the ground. ‘Hey!’ Nina roared into the attacker’s face as she interceded, reasoning – hoping – that he wouldn’t hit a woman. ‘Back off!’
She grabbed the shaken Cheng’s arm and helped him up, pushing him onwards, only for him to stumble into one of several men with identical cropped haircuts. ‘Hoy!’ barked the offended party. ‘Verpiss dich, du Arschloch!’
Eddie heard the commotion and stopped, turning to see Nina and Cheng between the two angry groups – and coming up fast behind them, a flash of blond hair amidst people being body-slammed out of the way. They were about to be caught in the middle of a fight—
He started it early.
Eddie delivered a brutal punch to one of the bellowing football fans, slamming him into his fellows, then whirled to drive an elbow into the back of someone whom he guessed from the haircut was a German sailor. The man reeled into a shipmate and knocked him down. A split second of stunned silence . . .
Then all hell broke loose.
Nina shrieked, hauling Cheng with her as the two drunken sides launched at each other, unsure who had started the trouble and not especially caring. Eddie had already pushed on, deliberately bowling a member of a stag party into the expanding brawl as he went. ‘Move!’ he yelled to Krämer.
‘Shit!’ Nina yelped as someone took a punch to the face and missed her by inches as he fell. ‘Dammit, Eddie!’
But she knew why he had done it. The gunman and his companions were almost on them – only to be caught in the swelling chaos. The blond man had just enough time to lock eyes with her before a drunk in a tracksuit hurled himself bod
ily at him. Both men fell, vanishing amongst flailing fists and feet.
She saw gaps opening as the non-belligerents in the surrounding crowd tried to get clear. ‘Cheng, quick!’ she shouted, following Eddie and Krämer. A whistle shrilled, followed by another; the police were already responding.
Cheng behind her, she caught up with her husband. ‘Keep going,’ Eddie ordered, angling towards the side of the street as the approaching cops ran down its centre. ‘Once we’re clear of the fight, they won’t even look at us.’
‘You’re sure?’ she asked.
‘Do we look like a bunch of lads out on the piss?’
‘Good point.’
They moved towards the Reeperbahn, policemen charging past with batons drawn, and reached the little plaza of the Beatles-Platz. A police car pulled up to disgorge more officers. Eddie veered well clear as the cops ran for the side street, leading the foursome past the other Fab Four. ‘Over the road, quick!’
He led them across the Reeperbahn, ducking into the crowds outside the bars and heading for the first side street. ‘Down here,’ he said, looking back. If their pursuers had escaped the brawl, they hadn’t yet made it to the Beatles-Platz. ‘You know your way around here?’ he asked Krämer.
The German nodded. ‘There is a park along this road,’ he said. ‘We can go through it to the red-light district. There are always lots of people. We can lose them.’
They jogged down the side street, Krämer still hobbling. ‘So you don’t know who “they” are?’ Nina asked.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I lied to you about the other buyers. I was trying to get more money.’
‘But you must have spoken to someone. Otherwise how would they have known where you were?’
‘I spoke to no one!’ Krämer insisted as they entered the park. ‘I only gave my address to Mr Hui.’ He glanced at Cheng. ‘I never saw those men before – and I do not know how they found me.’
‘They might be spooks,’ Eddie suggested. Krämer didn’t understand the slang. ‘Intelligence services,’ he clarified. ‘Spies.’
‘Spies?’ The sailor looked unnerved. ‘Working for who?’
‘How would I know? The blond guy sounded Scandinavian, but I don’t know why anyone from IKEA-land would want to take the key from you.’
‘Speaking of the key,’ said Nina, ‘have you still got it?’
Krämer had kept the artefact inside his jacket. ‘Yes. I have decided . . . it is too much trouble. You can have it. For the fifty thousand euros.’
The redhead laughed and shook her head. ‘Can you believe this guy?’
They reached the park’s far side. Eddie checked the street for potential threats, seeing none. ‘Which way?’ Krämer gestured left. ‘Seeing as we just saved your life,’ the Yorkshireman went on as he led the way, ‘I think we should charge you a rescue fee. Something in the region of, I dunno, fifty thousand euros?’
Krämer was not amused. ‘I was almost killed because of the key! I need money to get out of here safely. They could be waiting in my flat.’
‘If we’re talking money, that’s up to Cheng.’ Nina looked back at the young Chinese. ‘How are you doing?’
He was still breathing heavily from the exertion – and fear – of the escape. ‘I’m okay. But those men tried to kill us! And you and Mr Chase both seem so . . . unconcerned!’
‘Oh, I’m very concerned, trust me,’ Nina replied. ‘But this is the kind of crap I didn’t write about in my books. If I had, they’d be six hundred pages long, because it happened all the goddamn time!’
Krämer directed them right. Music from bars along the new street reached them. Nina turned back to the German. ‘So, somebody wants the key badly enough to try to kill us. If you want to get out of here, now might be a good time to tell us more about it. Like exactly how you got hold of it, and from whom.’
He nodded reluctantly. ‘I was on a ship called the Fortune Mist. We heard a distress call – this was four months ago – from another ship, the Dionysius. We did not find it, but we rescued the crazy man. His name is Wim Stapper. He is Dutch; he is now in the Henkeman hospital outside Rotterdam.’
Nina made mental notes of the names. ‘And he had the key?’
‘Yes. He was holding it to himself like it was the most important thing in the world.’
‘And you stole it from him.’
‘Yes, yes, I did,’ he snapped in irritation. ‘And look where that has got me!’
They reached a busy, noisy square. Eddie again checked for danger, then angled across it. ‘So did this Stapper say anything else about the key?’ Nina asked.
‘He said . . . one of his friends, I forget the name, woke the demon,’ Krämer said, following. ‘It killed everyone else. It wanted the key, but Stapper got away with it.’
‘Did he describe this demon?’
‘No. He only said it was in the ice, and there were more of them. The key would wake them somehow. The only other thing he said,’ the German went on ominously, ‘was that if the demons woke up . . . they would kill us all.’
‘Yeah, that’s reassuring,’ said Eddie. ‘After everything else we’ve been through, now Beelzebub’s got a devil put aside for me?’
‘For me, for meeee,’ Nina couldn’t help singing in response. ‘But there’s no such thing as demons – I’m more worried about bullets than brimstone. That’s everything he said?’ she demanded of Krämer.
‘That is all,’ he replied. ‘If you want to know anything else, you will have to speak to him in person. But I understand he is not very talkative. He has gone completely mad.’
They headed down another street, busy bars on both sides. The crowd grew thicker again, but now had a different feeling, contrasting with the out-for-a-good-time vibe of the Große Freiheit. While most of the men – and they were nearly all men here – moved with purpose, many kept their heads down almost furtively. ‘The red-light district?’ Nina asked disapprovingly.
‘Yeah,’ said Eddie, ‘but don’t worry, I didn’t bring us here to go window-shopping. Reason I did is ’cause there are always cops around. They’re probably not keen on the place, but prostitution’s legal in Germany, so they’re not here to bust the girls – but they will bust the heads of any punters who try anything funny. There’s a street down here that’s like hooker central, so die Polizei’ll be keeping an eye on things.’
‘Do I even want to know how you’re so well informed?’
‘I told you, I was a twenty-year-old squaddie when I came here last! Anyway, it’s just here.’
A side street had a tall barrier blocking its end, men going in and out through gates. Whatever was happening behind it was hidden from view, but from the lurid red lighting cast over the buildings beyond, Nina could take a pretty solid guess.
Krämer indicated a sign. ‘You will not be able to go in,’ he told Nina. ‘Women are not allowed. Except for the whores.’
‘I wasn’t planning on visiting,’ Eddie said impatiently, continuing past. ‘See? Cops.’ Several police officers were outside a nightclub ahead, two questioning a pair of worried-looking young men while the others stood in a loose cordon to deter onlookers from getting involved. ‘If you’ve just run through a crowded theatre with a gun, you won’t want to stroll right past a bunch of armed coppers who’ve probably got your description already.’
‘They might have our descriptions as well,’ said Cheng nervously.
‘Maybe, but cheerful bald guy who bows to the drag queen when she takes the piss out of him? Not threatening. Ivan Drago-looking arsehole waving a gun? Threatening. Only one of ’em’ll make people call one-one-zero.’
‘Hope you’re right,’ said Nina as they approached. But to her relief, the cops gave them no more attention than any other passers-by. ‘Okay,’ she said to Krämer after they passed, ‘what do you want to do with the key? As long as you’ve got it,
those guys might keep coming after you. And don’t use the word “fifty”, or anything close to it,’ she chided. ‘Cheng, if you pay him that much, I’ll give you an F for the semester right here and now!’
The German made an aggrieved noise. ‘You have to give me something. I cannot go back to my room in case they are waiting for me!’
Cheng thought for a moment. ‘What about . . . twenty-five thou—’
‘Done,’ Krämer snapped.
Cheng blinked.
Nina frowned, but the Chinese youth was already opening his bag. ‘Jeez, at least keep it hidden,’ she said. ‘And get out of the cops’ sight before you start handing out wads of banknotes. You’ll get us arrested, or mugged, or both.’
‘Down here,’ said Eddie, rounding a corner and finding a darkened doorway. He stood guard, Nina partly watching the street and partly glaring in annoyance as Cheng handed the German half his money.
‘Okay, now give him the key,’ she said pointedly after Krämer tucked the notes away. He gave her a dirty look, but passed the artefact to Cheng. ‘Right, you’ve got it – so put it away before anyone sees it.’ Her student dropped it into the holdall and closed the zipper. She looked back at the sailor. ‘Anything else you can tell us about the key or what Stapper said?’
Krämer shook his head. ‘Not much. There was a big iceberg near where we found him, but that is all I can think of. Stapper’s ship wasn’t wrecked on it, though. We searched. The iceberg could have rolled over and crushed it into the water.’
‘Okay. I guess we’re done, then.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cheng as Krämer quickly departed.
‘Don’t thank him,’ Eddie said. ‘That thing might still land you in trouble.’
‘We have to get out of Hamburg,’ said Nina. ‘Maybe those guys chasing us were arrested in the fight, but I don’t want to bet my life on it.’
Eddie nodded. ‘We should go to a different subway station. There’s one at St Pauli.’ He jabbed a thumb eastwards.
The Resurrection Key Page 6