Shadow of Doom

by John Creasey

  ‘Herr Gleber will please stand at the side of the room,’ said Dias, in a silky voice. ‘His papers will be inspected. Please, Herr Gleber—’

  Gleber was half-way to the door when he fired.

  Palfrey tried to get up, failed, lay at full length and covered his head with his hands for protection, but peered towards the door. He saw the flame from the guns. Gleber was firing, the men were shooting back at him. A bullet went close to Palfrey, and Dias screamed from the platform:

  ‘Do not shoot this way!’

  Gleber was unhurt. He behaved like a madman as he reached the first attendant and flung him sideways. A second crumpled up on the floor, the third jumped at him, and Gleber smashed the butt of his gun against his head.

  Gleber snatched at the bolts.

  Palfrey got up, slowly, knowing that Dias had called out because the attendants’ shots were liable to injure men in the body of the meeting, men who backed away at another call from Dias. For a moment it looked as if Gleber would have a chance to get out; he actually got the bolts back and pulled open the door – and then Dias fired at him from the platform.

  Gleber stiffened, and then crumpled up.

  Silence fell upon the room.

  The stewards were on their feet again. One of them was wounded in the shoulder, another had a flesh wound in the arm. Members of the meeting lifted Gleber, at Dias’s instructions, and he was carried towards the front of the room. The party disappeared behind the curtains.

  Dias climbed straight on to the stage.

  ‘Gentlemen!’ One had to admire the man, there was not a tremor in his voice, and he was in complete control of the situation. The men began to take their seats – and as Palfrey went to his he saw a slip of paper on the floor. He picked it up quickly, but did not put it in his pocket. It was one of the lists, it might be invaluable – if he got out of here alive.

  Dias said: ‘We shall meet again, perhaps here, perhaps elsewhere, at the first opportunity, gentlemen. There has been no alarm at all in the theatre, it will be safe to go out that way. You will exchange your tickets for the tokens in the usual way. Good night, gentlemen!’

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Goods on the Market

  Palfrey stopped playing with his hair, thrust his hands deep in his pockets, and regarded Bane with a faint smile.

  ‘There’s a lot you say you don’t know,’ he said. ‘I don’t know this and that, either, and the thing which is preoccupying me most at the moment is William K. Bane.’

  ‘I told you I would play ball,’ said Bane. ‘I came straight here to tell you what had happened—I’m here, aren’t I?’

  ‘Did you recognise me at the meeting?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure of you. A word from me would have meant the same trouble for you as it did for Gleber, you can chalk that up to my credit.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘But we’re a bit mixed up, Bane. If you recognised me and didn’t betray me, it might be a point in your favour. Not necessarily, but there would be a chance. You might be hand in glove with Dias working hard to make sure that I can’t go too far. Mightn’t you?’

  ‘Surely,’ said Bane, ‘but I’m not.’

  ‘And as you had your suspicions of me at the meeting, you naturally came straight here,’ said Palfrey. ‘You can’t tell me what I don’t know myself, so no harm can come of frankness. The policy would obviously pay.’

  ‘You’re some cynic,’ said Bane.

  ‘In this I’m a realist,’ said Palfrey. ‘The truth is that I don’t know whether you can be trusted, and the realistic attitude is to assume that you can’t.’

  ‘That’s up to you,’ said Bane. ‘I wanted to find out what Dias is doing. I can tell you a lot of things, Palfrey, that will surprise you.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Palfrey. ‘I’m in a receptive mood. The first thing I would like to be surprised about is your reason for coming to Europe and working—ostensibly working, if you like—with a skate like Dias. You’re a wealthy man, they tell me, one of the Wizards of Wall Street. This isn’t exactly your cup of coffee. Why come in person?’

  ‘I have business in Europe for the State Department,’ said Bane. ‘You can check that, I guess. I’m prepared to help you find the truth all I can; that’s not talk, that’s facts. Before you showed up at the meeting tonight I hadn’t all that confidence in you, Palfrey. I’ve plenty now. The man that can get to that meeting and get away with a whole skin is good enough for me.’

  ‘See here, Palfrey, this is what Dias is doing, as far as I can check it to date. He sells three or four cargoes of wheat, or maybe eggs, maybe fruit, maybe beef. He puts more on board those ships than there should be—he overloads them. It was the overloading which first made us suspicious of him—but we can talk about that later. He unloads, he has secret buyers, you saw a lot of them tonight. If his cargo is due in at Rotterdam, he sells to buyers within easy distance of Rotterdam. If it’s due in Paris, he sells to the nearest port agents. We don’t yet know how many agents he has, how many shipments of food are coming in to the European Black Market—and,’ went on Bane, ‘we are going to find out, Palfrey.’

  ‘We certainly should,’ said Palfrey, mildly, and Bane snapped his fingers in annoyance.

  ‘Well, Palfrey—are you with me?’

  ‘Subject to this and that, yes. This and that,’ added Palfrey, ‘means chiefly whether you can produce the evidence that you are here for the State Department. As you said, that shouldn’t be hard. Was Anderson semi-official?’

  Bane laughed. ‘He was not!’

  ‘What part is he playing?’

  ‘He controls a lot of food interests in Great Britain,’ said Bane. ‘Maybe you didn’t know that. Dias wants him to put up some cargoes, I guess—and to finance other activities. It’s a great pity Josh lost his temper, he might have got a lot from Dias.’

  Stefan paused outside the door of Bane’s hotel suite, and heard nothing.

  He was expert, like Palfrey and the others, in forcing locks which were not too complicated; that of Bane’s door was child’s play. Stefan soon had it open, and stepped into a small, well-furnished sitting-room, the outer room of the suite. The door leading to the bathroom was open, but the room was in darkness. Another door was closed.

  Stefan heard the murmur of voices. Silently he crept nearer, and heard a voice which he recognised immediately: it was Dias. Dias was saying: ‘I do not believe you, Mr. Bane.’

  Stefan looked about him, espied a telephone on a writing-table, went to it and lifted the receiver. He gave the number of van Doorn’s house and waited, listening with one ear to the murmur of conversation in the next room, but he could only catch an occasional word; Bane did not sound pleased.

  ‘Hallo, Sap,’ said Stefan, as Palfrey came on the line. ‘I’m at Bane’s hotel. Dias was waiting for Bane. Tell Neil and Corny. I think we should be ready to act quickly.’

  ‘Right-ho,’ said Palfrey.

  ‘Good-bye,’ whispered Stefan. He replaced the receiver, and stood without moving after the soft ting of the bell sounded. The murmur of voices in the next room did not cease, and the door remained closed.

  Stefan went towards it, and stood listening.

  Dias was saying: ‘You have been out, Mr. Bane. Why did you make a secret journey?’

  Bane said: ‘What I do is my business. You’re asking for trouble, Dias.’

  Stefan turned the handle of the door, then pushed the door open a little.

  Dias said: ‘Please, Mr. Bane. I do not want to be difficult. I have the greatest admiration for you, I want your support, but I must know where you have been. To see Palfrey, perhaps?’

  Bane said: ‘It was.’

  ‘Aaahhhh!’ breathed Dias, ‘and was it by arrangement, Mr. Bane? Are you by any chance assisting him in his—ah—quest for radium?’

&n
bsp; ‘No,’ said Bane, ‘I’m assisting him in no way at all.’ He laughed. ‘Maybe he thinks I am, but you should know better.’

  Stefan stood motionless by the door, afraid that Dias would see that it was open.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Trickery of William K. Bane

  ‘I do not think he is the easiest man to deceive,’ purred Dias.

  ‘Easy or not, I’ve hoodwinked him,’ said Bane. ‘Palfrey thinks you’re after the radium and are doing some gun-running on the side.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Dias. ‘Did you discourage the suggestion that I would deal in anything so lethal?’

  ‘I did not,’ said Bane, who seemed supremely self-confident. ‘I told him that his guess was as good as mine.’

  ‘And what else?’ asked Dias.

  ‘That I had sunk a lot of money in your schemes,’ said Bane, ‘meaning the railroads and other development projects in South America, and I was afraid you were putting a big one across me. Palfrey thinks I’m checking on you.’ He laughed again. ‘I’m not fooling, Dias. And it’s time you and I got down to cases. I’ve seen the strength of your hand tonight. I like the look of it.’

  ‘I am very glad,’ said Dias.

  ‘You did more business in an hour than I expected you to do in a week,’ said Bane. All you need for bigger business are bigger cargoes. You can’t get those cargoes without more support among the United Nations, I guess—surely, I can now see why you are so anxious to be treated as a friend by the State Department. Maybe I can manage that.’

  Dias said softly: ‘For what consideration, my friend?’

  ‘A quarter cut on profits,’ Bane said.

  ‘That is not unreasonable,’ said Dias, and Stefan thought that he sounded relieved. ‘I hope we can reach an understanding, Mr. Bane; I shall be able to tell you whether we can before long.’

  ‘What’s stopping us?’ asked Bane.

  ‘I want a little more information,’ said Dias. ‘I think it will be available very shortly. You will have no objection, I am sure, if I stay here for a short time?’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ said Bane.

  Most men would have found it wearisome, would have shifted their weight from one leg to the other, but Stefan stood like a statue, not even turning his head. Twenty minutes had passed since he had spoken to Palfrey, and Palfrey would soon be here.

  What was Dias waiting for?

  Was Bane as confident as he sounded?

  The silence was broken abruptly by the ringing of a telephone bell, the bell in the room where Stefan was standing. It had hardly started before he moved behind the door and stood with his back pressed against it, ready to go into action, but the door did not open any further. There was an extension telephone in the bedroom.

  Dias answered the telephone, and Bane protested:

  ‘That call’s for me.’

  ‘I do not think it is, my friend,’ said Dias. He changed from English to Spanish, and Stefan had some difficulty in following what he said, but he did not say a great deal; he listened. There was a noticeable increase in the tension in the room. Bane’s feet moved back, his hand disappeared; he was probably ready to get to his feet.

  Dias spoke again, and replaced the receiver.

  He stood up and moved within Stefan’s line of vision.

  ‘So, Mr. Bane, you deceived Palfrey? He thinks I am looking for the radium, with arms as a sideline. Very convincing! But, you see, I had a man listening to your conversation, I have had a man able to hear what is said in that house, and he has reported the real conversation you had with Palfrey.’ There was a short, tense pause. Then, ‘Juan, your gun!’ said Dias.

  Bane leapt to his feet.

  Stefan flung open the door, sent it crashing back against the wall, saw Lozana swing round with the gun already in his hand, but pointing towards a corner, between Bane and Stefan. Stefan reached out, struck the gun-arm, and sent the gun flying to the floor. Bane was already at Dias’s chair; Dias was half standing, but sank down when Bane thrust a hand at him. Lozana was backing away from Stefan, his eyes on the gun by the door.

  Again the men fell silent. Lozana and Dias seemed dazed by the realisation that they had been outwitted.

  Bane laughed. ‘Thanks, boy!’ he said, and laughed again.

  Dias said: ‘Bane, I warn you, if anything should happen to me, your life—’

  ‘I’ll look after my life,’ said Bane, cheerfully. He grinned across at Stefan. ‘I hoped Palfrey would have the sense to send someone after me, but I was beginning to think he trusted me too much. Sit down, Dias, you’re going to remain sitting for a long time yet. And take your hand from your pocket!’

  Dias said: ‘I have warned you.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ said Bane. ‘I—’

  He broke off, for there were sounds in the passage, footsteps, hushed voices, sounds which would probably not have been heard but for a thud when a man stumbled. Dias looked eagerly towards the door. Lozana made a furtive movement towards the gun. Stefan kicked it further away, and raised his clenched hand. Lozana stopped where he was.

  The door from the passage opened.

  Stefan spread out his fingers, thrust his hand against Lozana’s chest and sent him sprawling backwards, then turned and looked into the outer room. There were de Morency and Charles. Charles rubbing his knee and looking rueful, de Morency hopeful.

  ‘Trouble, my friend?’ he called.

  ‘Not serious trouble,’ said Stefan, easily. ‘I think we have turned the tables on Dias very well. You were quick. Where is Sap?’

  ‘Downstairs,’ said de Morency.

  ‘I think he would like to come up here,’ said Stefan. ‘Charles, will you go?’

  ‘Okay,’ said Charles.

  He hurried along the passage, saw the chair against which he had stumbled still standing further from the wall than was safe, stooped down to move it out of his path – and as he did so a door next to Bane’s opened, and a man came through. Charles caught a glimpse of him, saw his upraised hand, half-turned and opened his lips to cry out – and then felt a blow on the side of the head – painful and heavy. He went down without a murmur, the only sound the thud as his body hit the floor.

  A girl joined the man.

  ‘Watch,’ he said to her. He turned and went to Bane’s door, and stood outside it, listening intently. It was the Dutchman who had been with Dias and Lozana on the platform at the meeting. He still held the weapon with which he had knocked Charles out – a heavy bludgeon. He put his hand to his pocket and drew out an automatic – and then he pushed open the door. As he did so two more men appeared from the room from which he had come.

  He stood aside.

  ‘Softly,’ he whispered.

  They stepped through and crept silently across the room. The inner door was ajar, they could hear de Morency talking to Stefan. The gunmen stood on either side of the door, and the Dutchman slowly pushed it further open.

  De Morency cried: ‘Stefan, behind you!’

  The door crashed back, and the Dutchman ran into the room straight at Stefan. The others followed him, their guns raised. For a moment only Stefan and the Dutchman were moving, and Stefan thrust out his hands. His reach was enormous. The Dutchman reeled back, as if he had come up against a solid wall. Lozana darted for the gun on the floor, Dias pushed Bane aside and heaved himself up from his chair.

  Bane looked into the muzzle of an automatic, and stood quite still. De Morency made a move towards Dias, and one of the men at the door shot him, at a few yards’ range. The bullet entered his chest. De Morency fell back, the blood rushing from his mouth. He tried to get his hand to his pocket for his gun, but failed. The Dutchman came at Stefan again, and this time ran into a punch which lifted him off his feet. As Stefan turned towards the gunmen, Dias rushed behind him and raced f
or the door.

  Bullets went over Stefan’s head as he ducked.

  Lozana reached the door behind Dias, the two silent gunmen hesitated on the threshold, and Dias snapped:

  ‘Shoot Bane—shoot Bane!’

  Bane flung himself to the side of the room, behind the door, as two belated shots rang out. By then voices were raised in the nearby rooms, someone was banging on the wall in the next room. The gunmen withdrew as swiftly and silently as they had entered; Dias and Lozana raced along the passage with their heads down, trying to avoid recognition. At the end of the passage, looking down into the narrow hall alongside the stairs, was a girl – Muriel.

  She said, ‘That way,’ and pointed along a second passage, leading to the back of the hotel. Dias turned and raced along it, moving with remarkable speed for such a heavy man, but not trying to run silently. Lozana pegged along behind him, and the girl withdrew, disappeared into a room and closed the door. By then the whole floor was in uproar, doors were opening, men appeared in the passage and scared women peered from behind them. Two women were not so scared, and were actually the first to enter the passage. Everyone seemed to be talking at the same time.

  Palfrey appeared on the landing, with a night-porter behind him, protesting volubly. Charles was on the stairs, dazed but conscious, Erikson and Bruton were in the hall. People were beginning to come down the stairs from the second floor, others appeared in the hall itself, there was a surging mass of excited people, all demanding to know what had happened.

  He pushed his way towards Bane’s room, afraid of what he would find. Charles tagged along behind, a rather embarrassed Charles, who disliked being the centre of such a scene.

  As Palfrey went in he saw Stefan bending over de Morency in the inner room, and Bane standing at the telephone in the outer room, banging the receiver up and down. He looked across at Palfrey and said: ‘It’s your French friend, in a bad way. Hallo, there—give me the hospital and give it me quick!’