Menace (Department Z)

by John Creasey

  Kerr’s head was clearing. There was work to do and he had to do it. He wished more than ever that he had not stopped in that work of rescue. One man made little difference. Better that a hundred died tonight than a million tomorrow; tomorrow, if this started universally, could last forever.

  The centre of the city had attracted the rebels first, and the bombs that had been dropped went right across it. Who had ordered those planes? Who had –

  But the thing had to be stopped, somehow. Somehow.

  On every side he saw more evidence of the uprising. Fires were everywhere, and at some of the bigger houses looting had started.

  He was walking faster now. Not a car on all four wheels stood in the roadway. Some were burning, others were smashed and wrecked by the tearing hands of the mob, the mob someone had let loose.

  The Renol – oh, God, the Renol.

  Its neon sign was still flaring. He drew nearer, and he saw a dozen men and women entering. Ragged, bestial-looking, still maddened.

  Kerr quickened his step.

  Inside, the attendants and commissionaires had made no attempt at resistance. There were signs – though not very violent ones – of looting.

  Only looting – so far.

  Kerr went upstairs as quickly as he could make his legs carry him. He passed laughing, yelling crowds of the proletariat. A girl, no more than twelve, was cowering against the wall, terrified. Opposite her her mother was being pushed and jostled.

  Kerr reached Suite Thirty.

  He hesitated before he went in. What would he find? The place stripped by the mob, Lois –

  Resolutely he pushed against the door. It was unlatched, the room was untouched. And in an easy chair, staring towards him with an expression of surprise, was the thin and spindly Oundle. A glass was in one hand, a cigarette in another.

  There was a moment of startled silence, Kerr’s more of relief than anything, Oundle’s of stupefaction.

  Oundle said in a reedy voice: ‘My God, you want a bath!’

  For the first time Kerr felt anger rising at the inanities of the men of Department Z. And then he sat down heavily on a chair and laughed. With a steady hand Oundle poured him a drink.

  ‘Where’s Lois?’

  ‘She’s all right. With Bill.’ Oundle turned his head away as he spoke, but Kerr noticed nothing. ‘Messy outside?’

  ‘Looks like being messy inside soon. The mob’s got the upper hand, and –’

  Oundle walked easily to the door and locked it. With the same air of detachment he lugged a heavy settee and placed it in a position of defence. His strength was surprising, and he talked as he worked.

  ‘Not for long, old man. The military’s coming. Not a doubt about it. Baj’ll be under martial law in a couple of hours. Fact. Less, probably. Quite an army coming down from the hills. They’re waiting for the air raid shock to pass, and then they’ll cut through the mob like cheese. What about that bath now?’

  ‘Don’t play the fool,’ Kerr said. ‘I’m past it.’

  Oundle grinned.

  ‘I’m serious about the bath, you know. You can’t possibly do anything like that, and I fancy we’ll have to be busy soon. Shall I turn on the water? It was still running hot five minutes ago.’

  ‘What’s the matter with me?’ asked Kerr irritably, and he eased himself up from his chair and made his way unsteadily towards the bedroom. It was difficult to understand why his legs felt so weak and his head so dizzy, for sitting down he had felt all right. The mob was still trampling the corridors, and someone tried the handle of the outside door. For a moment Ned Oundle had his hand in his pocket, but the rattling stopped and the heavy feet passed on.

  ‘Spirit’s going,’ he said. ‘They’ve had wind of the army.’

  Kerr reached a mirror and actually stepped back a pace in surprise.

  His hands were caked in blood, his coat sleeves were wet with it to the elbows, and there was hardly a square inch of him unsmeared. He pushed his hand wearily through his hair, trying to see the man beneath the mess. If Lois had seen him like that she would have given him up for lost.

  ‘It – it’s not all mine,’ he said. ‘I struck one of the patches where the bombs dropped. Turn the water on, there’s a good fellow. There’s a dark suit in the case. If you’ll get it out and then come in, we’ll talk.’

  The thin man was unusually silent as Kerr did his best to wash the stains off. As he let out the third bath full of water he began to feel more normal.

  ‘Well – where’s Lois? And Bill?’

  ‘They went off soon after I arrived,’ Oundle said. ‘Phoned through twenty minutes ago. They say they’re out of the crush and there’s nothing to worry about. Loftus got a clout, Lois escaped scot free. But if you’re ready to take it, old son –’

  Again Kerr failed to notice the significance of the sparing news Oundle gave him of Lois. Another time he would have seized on its vagueness, but now his mind was full of the assertion that the military were coming down from the hills. Why from the hills? That could only mean they’d been prepared for the attack and had been mobilised to come into Baj after it.

  ‘What do you know?’ he demanded.

  Oundle sat on the edge of the bath and swung a loofah thoughtfully.

  ‘Don’t know why, Bob, but things came to a head today. Bill and I couldn’t find much yesterday. Only talk of the rebellion. Just who, and why it was going to start, no one seemed to know. The two extreme parties were snarling, and –’

  ‘Don’t hedge, for God’s sake! What’s happened?’

  Oundle stopped swinging the loofah, and looked serious.

  ‘This, Bob. Meggel’s party has been induced to revolt, the Army was taken out of the city, and only the military and civilian police were left in. Everything in proper order, no one knew why or what was coming. Word got to the Meggel crowd that the city was there for the asking. They asked. As soon as they got busy the military sent the bombing planes, and as if at a signal the army started marching. It’ll be the bloodiest massacre since God knows when. The orders are to spare no one – men, women or children. They’re wiping out the socialists in Baj, and then –’ Oundle was talking like an automaton, his face now deadly pale, as he contemplated the next twenty-four hours. ‘Then – Katrina steps in. She takes over altogether, playing on two notes. First, the bloodshed must stop – and she puts herself in good with the Meggel crowd outside Baj. There won’t be anyone substantially left inside. Second, conditional on the stopping of the killing, she puts the Nazi party in power, herself as dictator. She has Vallena where she wants it, so I’m told. Following?’

  Kerr stepped out of the bath and reached for a towel.

  ‘The murderous little bitch. Any chances of stopping it?’

  ‘Can’t see any.’

  ‘She getting any outside support?’

  ‘Money, as far as I can find out. Can’t get any further than that, Bob, and damn it, I think we’re wrong when we fancy she’s after twisting the lion’s tail.’

  Kerr towelled his back vigorously. Now he was clean his bruised forehead and the slight cuts in his cheek, as well as a mass of red bruises over his back and shoulders where the crowd had clubbed him, showed clear and angry.

  ‘You can’t, eh? Nor can I, Ned, but damn it it’s there. She’s worked for the break with England, and Kryn was definitely out for Craigie and me.’

  ‘I don’t know –’

  ‘Hand me those trunks,’ said Kerr. ‘The military force coming is entirely Vallenian?’

  ‘As far as I’ve heard.’

  ‘How’d you get all this?’

  Oundle grinned.

  ‘The pretty girl you saw me with is the mistress of Count Paul Vonath. Vonath was told what to do this morning, and of course he had to tell her. And she – well, it’s a wicked world – told me. Well, how’re you feeling?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Kerr. ‘Where are Lois and Bill? Hiding out, or –’

  Oundle gulped, and his Adam’s apple was unduly pr
ominent.

  ‘Not so’s you’d know it, Bill. It was Lois’s fault. She’s gone all proletariat, reckons they’re having a crooked deal – and she’s right – and maybe if Katrina isn’t able to pull her tricks, it’ll end differently. The Army’s with the Kat, and so –’

  Kerr was staring at him, his face slowly whitening.

  ‘I – see. Where’ve they gone?’

  ‘Kat’s castle,’ said Oundle quickly. ‘I couldn’t stop her, old boy, and Loftus seemed better company for her than I. Bigger somehow.’

  ‘Kat’s castle,’ said Kerr, very slowly. ‘Come on, damn it, what you waiting for? Come on!’

  He had little idea of what to do, but he recognised one thing. Lois was right. The only way to stop the easy triumph of the Vonath and Nazi party was to get at Katrina. If she was missing, the Army would be at sixes and sevens. Kerr saw it clearly, and his admiration for Lois went up by leaps and bounds: and as it did so, his hopes for her safety diminished. She was in Katrina’s palace. Kryn would be there with von Hauf and others.

  Kerr saw the biggest political danger.

  In Spain a Franco coup had almost failed, and brought Russia, Spain and Germany (and others on a lesser scale) into the firing line. Here in Baj, it would be easier for the Russians to get busy –

  A Nazi state on their doorstep. Free entry for Germany and Austria. Could Moscow sit back and do nothing? And if the Russians really bared their teeth, dare Germany hold back?

  A hundred to one against, thought Kerr, and he shivered. Criff had been provisioning countries for war, making all the arrangements. Katrina wanted to bring the struggle on, and if it came, England could hardly keep out.

  Yet Britain, angry with Vallena, might stand aside. Kerr hardly knew what to wish for.

  He was dressed and ready. Oundle lugged the settee away and opened the door cautiously. A couple of frowsty, dirty-bloused Vallenians glared at them ferociously, but neither Kerr nor Oundle wanted to precipitate a minor scrap. Moreover the frowsty ones were well laden with odds and ends of jewellery, even a couple of silver candlesticks. From below stairs the rumble of the revolution continued, an ominous background.

  Kerr wanted to tell the poor devils what was coming to them, but he hurried on. As he raced downstairs he saw things that made him wonder whether his sympathies were in the right place. That child was there, on her knees and sobbing. Across the landing lay her mother, half-naked and quite dead.

  And then from the streets came an unfamiliar sound. Of marching. Orderly and regular and remorseless.

  ‘Let’s get going,’ muttered Oundle, pulling at his sleeve.

  Together they mixed with the crowd, pushing their way past. Together they heard the galloping close behind them, felt the surge of the crowd. And then the firing started.

  ‘Down here!’ Oundle darted towards a small alleyway, as yet hardly peopled. Kerr followed him. A hundred yards behind them the mounted cavalry swooped down, and the second massacre started.

  Men – women – children.

  The swords were flashing and the rifles and automatics crackling; the frenzy of the mob grew worse as it was ridden down.

  Kerr knew that nothing could stop the night of horror, that Baj was a city of the dead.

  It was isolated at the moment, but twenty-four hours could bring the bigger powers at each other’s throat, and the danger in Europe had never been greater.

  Kerr pressed on, grim-faced, the thoughts running through his mind as difficult to keep in place as quicksilver.

  * * *

  There could never be any doubt that the guards of Katrina’s palace had been forewarned. The barricades were formidable and the mob had hardly touched it. Within a quarter of a mile of the scene of that dreadful massacre, the half-moon shaped building still stood quiet and unaffected.

  ‘Lois got through,’ Oundle said, ‘by asking for Kryn. Do we do the same?’

  It was astonishingly easy. They asked for Kryn, and were allowed to pass the barricade. Kerr had a nagging fear that he was giving himself up. He was here for two reasons: Lois, and Katrina. He had only the vaguest idea how to act with Katrina, but –

  To his surprise the guards did not search the newcomers. Kryn’s name was obviously all-powerful.

  They went up the spacious hall, where Kryn had gone the night of his return from England. The guards knocked on the black door, before which two riflemen were standing. There was a sharp call, and the door opened. Kerr, keeping his hands in sight, went through in front of Oundle. He knew he might be walking into a trap, and yet –

  He saw the last thing he expected to see.

  Kryn. Lois, and Bill Loftus. Two or three higher officials – and two women. Two women in that room of black, two women dressed in black, their only relief the creamy whiteness of their arms and shoulders, and their Titian hair. Two women sitting behind a large, ornately-carved table.

  The one was Katrina of Baj. The other –

  They were not doubles. No more than the two Doriennets were doubles, but in a quick glance the similarity was startling. At a distance it would be easy to confuse them.

  Katrina of Baj, and Lady Mondell!

  Chapter 20

  Four Against Odds

  The black furnishing, the subdued light, the quietness inside the room, all increased the effect of a tableau. Kerr and Oundle entered. The silence was broken by the clicking of the door as their escort went out. Kerr had flashed a single glance towards Lois, and then he looked at the Princess.

  Yes, she was beautiful.

  She was staring at him, with her amber eyes unwinking.

  ‘So – you are Kerr.’

  Her contralto voice was deeper than average, but it had a musical quality. It broke the silence almost caressingly: and Kerr answered, speaking slowly, smiling a little and looking for all the world as though he were a foreign ambassador received in audience.

  ‘I am Kerr, Madam. You sent for me?’

  Katrina’s smile widened.

  ‘That is good, Mr Kerr. I knew, of course, you would come. In a way I sent for you, but for you to admit it – that is diplomacy at its best. You are, after all, something of what your reputation says.’

  She was a match for him in words, Kerr thought. Perhaps, in more than words.

  ‘Now that I’m here,’ Kerr said, ‘what can I do for you?’

  She shook her head slowly, her smile lessening a little. None of the others moved or spoke, but Kerr saw that Rene Mondell’s eyes were moving quickly to and fro. She was afraid of something, but Kryn, Lois and Bill showed no emotion.

  ‘Nothing, Mr Kerr. I will not pretend that I have arranged this for a discussion of business. Your activities make you far too dangerous. It is sad, but true.’

  Kerr smiled widely, and the transfiguring effect had never been more marked.

  ‘I’d heard, of course, that you had made arrangements for my murder, Madam, but –’ He shrugged.

  ‘I am glad it failed,’ said Katrina. ‘I wanted to meet you. Your career in the air had my warm admiration, and when I learned you had joined the Secret Service, I was more than a little intrigued. I could almost wish that our paths had not crossed like this.’

  ‘And prevented this meeting, Madam? For that, I shall always be glad.’

  ‘Always need not be long, Mr Kerr.’

  Kerr chuckled, and the sound seemed oddly misplaced in this room of doom.

  ‘More murder talk? Haven’t you killed enough for one day, Madam?’

  He half-expected her to flare up, for that red hair bespoke temper. But Katrina seemed satisfied that she was playing with a powerless victim; her nervousness, if she felt any, had gone, or at least was well-hidden.

  ‘Brave words, and to be expected. At least I can assure you, and your friends here, of a speedy death.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting: we are British subjects?’

  Katrina’s smile took on a tigerish gleam.

  ‘So. It will be most unfortunate that you suffered in the
rebellion that Katrina tried to put down, Mr Kerr. Even the new government can hardly be held responsible for the activities of rebels. You over-estimate the prestige of the English, of course. That has always been an English mistake.’

  Kerr shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I wonder. Two can under-estimate, Madam. My cable to my headquarters, explaining the full situation and my own trip to the Princess’s palace might make strange reading.’

  Katrina frowned: it was odd how men and women in high position assumed that everything would work out just as they had planned.

  ‘You are too venturesome, Kerr. But you cannot prove that you reached the palace.’

  Kerr laughed with real humour. Old friend bluff was helping him well.

  ‘My dear Princess, I am not the only representative of England in Baj, nor are my friends. There are plenty of others. I was seen to enter, and by now the word will have gone out. My agents will be on the way, and the news will reach England. England does not always sit back, Madam. She has been tried a lot of late. Too much. She will be ready to act.’

  He saw a different woman now. Her eyes were blazing with a hate that was close to fanaticism, and her hands were tightening on the arms of her chair.

  ‘You fool! If England starts, she will be facing World War! Have you not the sense to know that? Have you not learned that Moscow is racing to Meggel’s help? Do you not know what is coming? England – pah! She dare not come in!’

  A little pulse was ticking in Kerr’s forehead. The trick had come off this time: he had angered her and she was talking, but the news was going to be little use to him. He was here, but how he had ever thought it possible to get out was beyond him.

  ‘A matter that the government can best settle, Madam. May I congratulate you on the thoroughness of your arrangements? A rebellion, a Vallena united under you for a day, and then an attack from Russia! And your allies? I need hardly ask. A triumph indeed for your Vonath Party, but I am wondering whether your allies will be as faithful to you after your country is sold as it is now. And I wonder whether you have contemplated the possibility of Moscow winning? It is so easy to assume the best, Madam.’