Codeword Golden Fleece

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘So I’m supposed to be one of your liaison officers with the Rumanians, am I?’

  ‘Yes. Do you deny it? And do you deny that when you were in their camp yesterday morning, and were left alone for a few minutes in the Adjutant’s room, you stole a document from his safe giving the situation of all the Rumanian airfields on their Polish and Hungarian frontiers?’

  ‘I do deny it. I tell you I’m not Kilec, or the man who impersonated him.’

  ‘You are a fool. Lying like this will do you no good. How can you pretend that you are not the man for whom we have been hunting for the past twenty-four hours while you stand there in a Polish Captain’s uniform, which is far too big to fit any ordinary man, and you present at the gate here the pass that was issued to the man who posed as Kilec yesterday morning? And, what is more, you speak excellent German!’

  ‘I may speak fair German but I can’t understand a word of Polish, so if I am the man you believe me to be, how the hell do you think I could have passed myself off as a Polish liaison officer?’

  ‘You say now that you cannot understand Polish because it suits you to do so, but what proof have we of that?’

  ‘For Mike’s sake, keep your dirty cracks for the man you’re after and give me a chance to speak. I’m an American. Get that. I recently came out of Poland in the general mix-up, but before going further south I stooged around here a bit in the hope of getting news of a friend of mine, a Captain in the Polish Air Force Reserve named Jan Lubieszow.’

  ‘Never heard of him,’ grunted the Major. ‘And it wouldn’t do you any good if I had. Since you have been mixing with us as a spy you’ve probably got to know scores of Polish airmen without their suspecting you to be the scum you are.’

  ‘All right, all right. Anyhow, I was coming up to the camp yesterday evening to enquire for news when this fellow who’s been kidding you that he’s Kilec set on me. He’s a big chap like me, just as you say; but all the same I would have pasted him plenty if it hadn’t been that one of my arms is out of action. A stray bullet from a Hun aircraft zipped through it a few days back before I crossed the border with a bunch of refugees, so the set-to didn’t go my way. Your friend laid me out and kicked me on the head until I was unconscious. When I came to I was in my pants and he’d beaten it with all my clothes, leaving his uniform behind. My baggage is somewhere in Poland, so I only had the things I stood up in. I couldn’t walk around in my pants so I put on the uniform, and I came up here tonight to tell you all about it. Believe me, I’m as anxious to get that guy as you are.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said the plump Major sarcastically. ‘And what sort of story have you made up to account for the past twenty-four hours?’

  ‘I haven’t any story at all. I felt mighty sick by the time that so-and-so had done with me; and ever since I’ve been taking things quietly to get over the ill effects.’

  ‘Anyhow, you stick to your story that you are an American. In that case you will have a United States passport. May I see it?’

  Rex managed a wry grin. ‘I certainly had one, but I haven’t any longer. That Nazi we’re both so anxious to meet took it off me with the rest of my things last night.’

  He felt that the lie could do no harm, and it saved him from having to tell some other which might be less readily believed.

  ‘How very convenient!’ sneered the Major, and went on after a moment: ‘Well, I don’t believe one word of the account you give of yourself, and the best thing we can do is to hand you straight over to the Rumanians.’

  ‘Hey, wait a minute!’ exclaimed Rex. ‘I’d rather you didn’t do that. Can’t you sort this thing out yourselves?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t we hand you over? Our relations with the Rumanians were delicate enough as it was, but there’s been hell to pay since yesterday morning. Naturally they think it was a Polish officer who stole their damned defence plan. It wasn’t till this afternoon that we were able to check up on Kilec and found out how we had been tricked. Of course, they don’t believe us. They think we’re lying to save our own good name, but you’re the living proof that it was not a Polish officer who abused their hospitality, and it will be a real satisfaction to turn you over to them. I’ve a long drive ahead of me, but, by Saint Stanislas, I’ll hand you over myself before I take the road south. It will be well worth half an hour’s delay to see their faces. Get in that car while I telephone Headquarters to let them know we’ve got you and that I’m taking you across.’

  ‘Listen!’ said Rex urgently. ‘For God’s sake, listen! You’ll regret it if you don’t. I’m a Secret Service man—or, at least, I’m on that sort of work.’

  The Major had been about to turn away, but he stopped in his tracks. ‘You’re a quick thinker, aren’t you? I suppose you’re going to tell me now that you’re working for the Allies?’

  ‘Yes. That’s just what I am doing, and I’m on to a big thing. I demand that you take me to the senior Polish officer in this camp.’

  ‘Thanks, but we are not interested in secret documents stolen from the Rumanians, who, by and large, have behaved very decently to us.’

  ‘I’m not talking about this wretched defence plan. Who cares where they’ve stationed their antiquated kites, anyhow? I’m on to something of real importance to the Allies, and it’s imperative that I should not fall into Rumanian hands.’

  ‘You don’t like the idea of facing a firing party, eh!’ The Major grinned. ‘You know that’s what you’ll get from them, and you think that if you can cook up some story to interest us we will save your skin by keeping you here.’

  ‘I don’t have to cook up a story. I’m acting with some British friends, and, by hook or by crook, I’ve got to get out of Rumania.’

  ‘By heavens, you’re a cool one!’ cried the Major, and suddenly burst out laughing.

  Rex promptly lost his temper. ‘You damned fool!’ he roared. ‘Can’t you get it into your thick head that I’m not the man you want, and that I’m not a German? I’m on your side—on the side of the Allies. It matters every bit as much to Poland as it does to Britain or France that I should get the information I’ve got to London. I demand to see your Commandant, and he’s got to help me.’

  The Major’s laughter stopped and he suddenly stiffened, as he said frigidly: ‘There is only one thing we have got to do. That is to protect the honour of Poland, which has been brought into question by this theft. Nothing else is of the least importance compared with that, and it is a matter upon which no Polish officer would subscribe to the least delay. Your build, uniform, the pass you presented and your excellent knowledge of German all identify you with the man who stole the airfield layout plan from the Rumanians yesterday. Personally I am convinced that you are that man, and even if you are not we shall prove our good faith to he Rumanians by handing you over to them. Get in that car!

  ‘Please!’ pleaded Rex. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re wrecking the biggest coup that the Allies could pull off in this war. All I ask is to be allowed to see your Commandant.’

  ‘It is you who do not know what you are saying. “The biggest coup the Allies could pull off in this war”!’ The Major sniffed contempuously. ‘That is overplaying your hand with a vengeance. Do you take us for fools that we should believe such twaddle? Evidently you think that the Commandant may prove more credulous than I am, and you hope to prolong your miserable existence by making a long tissue of such wild statements to him. But I will not permit it. I will not allow the good name of Poland to remain in question even five minutes longer than need be. Get into that car at once.’

  Rex started to plead again, but, after issuing an abrupt order to the Lieutenant, the Major stalked pompously away to the guard hut to report what had happened over the telephone to Headquarters.

  The wisened little sergeant felt Rex over to see if he was carrying a weapon and, finding none, pushed him towards the car. Under the threat of the Lieutenant’s revolver Rex climbed into the back seat, and one of the soldiers got in beside him.
After a wait of two minutes the Major returned and took his place in the driver’s seat. As he did so he said to Rex:

  ‘I have spoken to Headquarters, and they entirely agree with me. Where the honour of Poland is concerned there can be no delay, So you had better think up some other story for the Rumanians. The Commandant is delighted. He is patting himself on the back now because, instead of keeping the affair secret, he had it broadcast through the whole camp last night so that every sentry should be on the lookout for “Captain Kilec”. None of us thought that you would dare to return here, but it is great good luck for us that you were fool enough to do so. It was lucky, too, that I happened to arrive at the gate so soon after your attempted entry, because I am the Assistant Military Attaché. I shall be able to explain the whole affair to them, and, of course, bringing you to them like this will put up my personal stock.’

  The Major was now in a high good humour, but Rex hardly took in what the fat, pompous little man was saying. His last-ditch plan of coming clean with the Commandant of the Polish Internment Camp and begging his assistance had been frustrated through his most unfortunate encounter with this Assistant Military Attaché, who, either through stupidity or a desire for his own glorification, placed the urgency of satisfying the Rumanians before the possible chance of serving the Allied cause. All the Major’s talk of ‘the honour of Poland’ made Rex sick with fury, because had he only been allowed a chance to establish the point that he was not the man who had impersonated Captain Kilec, this very fact, with a description of the impostor’s attack upon him and the clothes he had been wearing at the time, would have given the Poles themselves a better chance to help the Rumanians catch the culprit, and, perhaps, retrieve their stolen document more speedily.

  The very thought of the document made Rex shiver. Directly the Rumanians got him, whatever he might say, he would be searched, and searched with extreme thoroughness. They would not find their defence plan, but they would find the option on the purchase of the Danube oil barges.

  That would be the end of everything. It must be prevented at all costs. But, in God’s name, how?

  Poor Rex, jolting from side to side in the ill-kept car as he stared over the Major’s shoulder into the darkness, would have given his wounded arm for an answer. The Rumanian Air Force Station was barely half a mile away. Within a matter of minutes they would be entering its gates. Once they were inside he would certainly never get out again without the Rumanians having gained possession of the Golden Fleece.

  If only he had been fit and with both arms at his disposal he would have risked a car smash. With one good blow he could have put the soldier beside him past caring what happened for several moments. Then he would have grabbed the idiot Major by the back of his neck, hauled him boldly over the seat and used his body as a screen from the flying glass when the car ran into the ditch and turned over. But with only one hand he knew that any such desperate venture was beyond his powers. The soldier was sitting on his right, so he could not get a free swing at him or the power into a blow sufficient to knock him out; and if he failed in that the fellow would be on him before he had a chance to get at the Major.

  The lights of the Rumanian Air Force Station loomed up ahead. Deciding on one last desperate attempt to make the Major see reason, Rex leaned forward and said loudly:

  ‘Look! Don’t drive in. For God’s sake, listen to me! If only you’ll help me to get out of this God-damned country I can stop Rumania’s oil getting to the Germans. Honestly I can. I’m prepared to prove it.’

  The only response he received was a curt laugh and the Major’s acid comment: ‘You’re the most audacious liar I’ve ever met. I must tell the Rumanians that. It will ensure you a good reception.’

  Rex jerked back into his seat as though he had been hit. He had gone too far; said too much. If this self-centred little moron did repeat what he had said the fat would be in the fire with a vengeance. The fact that he was carrying the option was damning enough, but, if they learned the purpose for which it had been secured, the Iron Guards who were certain to be among them would see to it that he was shot before he had even had another breakfast.

  Never had Rex been in such a frightful predicament. Beads of sweat had started out on his forehead, and his hands were clammy. He tried to imagine what the Duke would have done in such circumstances, but there was no time left even to wonder about that. The car was already turning into the gates of the Air Force Station, and its interior was flooded by the arc lamps outside he guardhouse. It was too late now even to attempt the desperate hazard of attacking the Major in the hope that the car would overturn. It had slowed up and the Rumanian sentry was calling his sergeant out of the guardroom.

  Rex received one minute’s grace while the car was at a standstill and the sergeant, having spoken with the Major, saluted and signed to him to proceed. As the car moved on again at a slower pace towards the Headquarters Offices of the camp Rex knew that he no longer had minutes but only seconds in which to think. Once he was in the hands of the Rumanians he would be stripped, and all his clothes would be gone through with a tooth-comb. It was a thousand to one against experienced searchers failing to examine his cap.

  Between the gate of the camp and the big block of permanent buildings that housed its offices lay a quarter of a mile of tarmac road lit only by faint blue guiding lights. The moon was not yet up, and the interior of the car was once more in darkness.

  With a sudden desperate resolve Rex took off his cap, fanned his perspiring face twice with it and laid it on his knees. The soldier beside him, knowing that he was not armed, was sitting quietly back, not even looking at him but staring straight ahead.

  Gripping the peak of the cap with his knees, Rex thrust his one free hand inside it. Quickly but quietly, and making as little movement as possible, he crumpled back the oiled-silk lining and pulled out the packet from beneath it.

  The car was already slowing down as it approached the main entrance of the office buildings. There was not a second to lose. In one swift movement he covered all of the packet but its corners with his great leg-of-mutton hand and taking it from the cap thrust it down out of sight beside his hip. His fingers came in contact with the tight-pressed fissure where the cushion of the back seat of the car met the upholstery of its side. As the car drew up before the entrance he thrust again with all his force, pushing the flat packet down until it was right under the heavy leather seat.

  The soldier sat forward suddenly, but he had noticed nothing; he was simply stretching out his hand to open the door of the car. Rex lay back for a moment with an inaudible sigh of relief. Next minute the Major was shouting to him to get out, and he silently accompanied his guards into the Air Force Headquarters.

  In the doorway he turned to give a quick look at the car. It was a dark blue Ford V.8. that had evidently seen much service. The dirt upon it was not only superficial, showing that it was not often cleaned really thoroughly, so he felt there was a good chance that the option would remain where he had hidden it at least for some days. As he followed the others he kept on silently repeating its number, UCZ827, to himself.

  They were shown into a room on the right of a bare but spacious hallway. In it the Duty Officer, a dark young man of medium height, was seated at a desk. The Major excitedly explained his business, now speaking in French. The Rumanian gave them seats and, picking up a telephone, rang through to his Commanding Officer.

  There was a short wait, and during it Rex thought agitatedly of the drastic step he had just taken. Now he had parted with the Golden Fleece, would he ever be able to get hold of it again?

  Having freed himself of it, he did not think that he was in any great personal danger. He had nothing on him now which could lead the Rumanians to associate him with von Geisenheim’s attackers, and he thanked his stars that he had had the sense to speak of himself as Rex Mackintosh to the Poles instead of giving his full name. Sooner or later they would have to produce somebody to identify their captive as the German who had po
sed as Captain Kilec, and then it would emerge that he was not the man they wanted. Once that was clear he did not see on what either the Rumanians or the Poles could hold him. There seemed no reason at all why they should not accept his story that he was simply an American refugee from Poland who had been attacked and had his clothes and papers stolen the previous night. If things went well they might even let him go right away or, at the worst, after a full enquiry had been held the following day.

  As these thoughts sped swiftly through his mind he began to cheer up a little, but he soon became a prey to fresh anxiety as he wondered how on earth he was to set about retrieving the option. The Major had said something about having a long drive before him but that the pleasure of handing Rex over to the Rumanians would be well worth the delay in starting on his journey south. He had also said that he was the Assistant Attaché so he was not an internee like the other Poles but free of the whole country to go and come where he pleased. The probability was that he had come north for a few days only to assist in making the arrangements for the interning of his fellow countrymen and was now about to return to his Legation in Bucharest.

  If so, Rex saw that unless he were freed immediately after the coming interview with the Rumanian Station Commander, and could somehow get the option back that night, he would have to follow the Major to Bucharest; and the Duke, Simon and himself had already made Bucharest too hot to hold them. Rex did not like the idea of returning to the Rumanian capital one little bit, but it looked as if that was what he would have to do, and with the least possible delay; as otherwise the packet might be discovered before he could retrieve it.

  How he was going to get free access to the Major’s car he had not the faintest idea, but that must wait on circumstances and it would be time enough to worry about it when he had secured his own freedom.