The Scarlet Impostor

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘I felt sure I could count on you there the moment you entered this room,’ Gregory smiled, ‘and without your help I’d be hard put to it even to get out of Munich now I’m on the run again. But I didn’t mean that. I can’t complete my job until I know to whom I must hand those papers when I’ve collected them from Berlin. That’s why I came to see you, as Erika von Epp.’

  She drew back suddenly. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you.’

  ‘What?’ exclaimed Gregory. ‘But you must know! To whom would you have handed the list of Inner Gestapo yourself if you’d succeeded in getting it from Grauber? If you don’t know the actual head of the conspiracy you must know somebody who’s in it pretty high up, and that will serve my purpose.’

  She shrugged. ‘Oh, I know myself, of course; but I can’t tell you.’

  ‘D’you mean that you don’t trust me?’ Gregory frowned and the old scar on his forehead went white.

  ‘Please don’t put it that way.’ She made a little grimace. ‘If it were a question of my own life I would trust you—I swear that—but this is a question of the whole destiny of Germany; the future of eighty-five million people hangs upon it. You have returned to me my golden swastika. When you didn’t know who I was you told me the broad outlines of the work upon which you were engaged. Everything that you’ve said since convinces me that you’re heart and soul with us but that is not enough. When I was working for Hugo I learned that one must trust nobody. What proof have I that, instead of being a British Secret Service agent, you are not working for Russia with a view to sabotaging Germany? Smash the Army first and let Hitler smash himself afterwards! That would suit Stalin’s game. No, the risk is too great; I cannot possibly give you the information that you require.’

  Gregory stood up. ‘But don’t you see that if you refuse to do so I’m stymied—I can’t do a thing? You’ve got to believe that I’m playing straight with you in this; or if you won’t at least tell me how I can convince you that I am. Hang it all! what was the point of your leaving a trail in London if when we picked it up and followed it to you we were only to come up against a blank wall?’

  ‘Ah! That is a very different matter,’ she said quickly. ‘All I did was to leave a pointer to myself as a suitable post-box if your Government wished to open negotiations with the anti-Nazi Generals. If you will produce these documents I will gladly pass them on to the right quarter.’

  ‘No,’ said Gregory, ‘I’m afraid that won’t do. I would trust you with my life but I’m not trusting anyone with those papers. What proof have I, apart from my personal belief in you, that the Gestapo didn’t suspect this plot months ago and get you, when you were in London, to plant a trail that might bring back to them vital information about its possible development? The fact that you spent the evening with Grauber is quite enough to suggest that you’re hand-in-glove with him. For that matter, since you’re a notorious adventuress, you might be in the pay of Stalin yourself.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’ She lit a cigarette. ‘We may trust each other personally, but we can’t take each other’s words when the future of Europe lies in the balance. But I think I see a way. I shall not tell you the name of the head of the anti-Nazi conspiracy, but I can arrange for you to meet him in secret.’

  ‘Ah, if you can do that—enable me to hand the two papers to him personally after he has satisfied me as to his identity so that I’m sure he really is a high-up General and not a Nazi spy—the trick is done.’

  She nodded. ‘I can do it, but if you do you’ll know who he is once you’ve met him, and the papers might be forgeries. Therefore, after the meeting you will have to become his prisoner while the documents are checked and the Putsch prepared, so that it will be impossible for you to betray him before it is carried out. Are you prepared to become a hostage for your own integrity?’

  ‘Good God, yes!’ Gregory exclaimed. ‘That’s fair enough. I don’t care what happens afterwards if only I can get those papers to the right man.’

  She smiled into his eyes. ‘Then, that’s settled. Tomorrow we leave for Berlin. I suppose you’re quite sure that you were not followed here?’

  ‘Quite. And fortunately I took special precautions when I came out here this morning, so even if they’re after me already they won’t have the faintest idea where I’ve got to. What’s more, I didn’t actually let your maid read my Gestapo card or give any name, so there’s no possibility of any leakage through your servants of the fact that Group Leader Grauber is supposed to be here. I’m, er—afraid, though’—Gregory’s lips twitched suddenly—‘that you’ll have to put up with me as your guest until the morning.’

  Her very blue eyes held amusement and mockery as she said quietly, ‘I can offer you a very nice room just along the corridor.’

  Gregory took her hand and kissed it. ‘Even walls have ears, it’s rude to shout, and I want to go on talking to you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘and I want to go on talking to you, so I suppose if we were only characters in a spy story this chapter would finish with the words “and they talked until the dawn.”’

  ‘That’s it, and the book would end up with a convenient fatal accident to your husband, after which you would shyly accept me as Number Two and we should live happily ever after. But as it is, we’re real people—just Satan’s children.’

  She nodded. ‘Perhaps it’s better so. There are no lost illusions afterwards, anyway. Let’s drink a toast to the Devil’s brew that was animated by a spark of pagan godliness and made us what we are.’

  He waited until she had refilled the champagne goblets, then put his arm gently round her and smiled down into her eyes as he said: ‘I don’t see why we shouldn’t talk until the dawn, do you? But that’s no reason why we should remain standing up all the time!’

  30

  Arrest

  When all unknown to them dawn stole upon the world outside the heavy curtains of the quiet, dimly-lit room Erika stirred drowsily beside him, her golden head pillowed on his chest Gregory lay on his back and he was staring upwards at the two gilt cherubs which supported the coronet above her bed.

  For three hours he had been as near to heaven as any mortal man can reach, but now a new terror was clutching at his heartstrings. The thoughts that had haunted him in the train from Paris a few days before had returned with redoubled force, and added to them a far grimmer dread of the future.

  He had brought death by now to Julius Rheinhardt. He had brought death to Pastor Wachmuller; death to Tom Archer; death to Jacob Rosenbaum: death to Madame Dubois. Would his scarlet trail now bring death to this wonderful gift he had found in the enemy land?

  Gregory had no grounds whatsoever on which to justify any immediate fears for Erika. The fate which he dreaded might overtake her could only come to her through him, and as he lay there listening to her gentle breathing he knew that he was safe for the next few hours.

  She had told him that unless she left special instructions she was never called but rang for her breakfast after she had wakened naturally each morning, and as an additional precaution he had locked the bedroom door. Nobody in Munich could possibly know where he had got to, and providing that he was not seen or heard by her servants it would be assumed that after he had interviewed her on her return home the previous, night she had let him out herself, re-locking the front door after him.

  He had suggested slipping away before daylight in a suit of the Count von Osterberg’s clothes, making his way to Berlin and meeting her there again after he had collected those all-important papers, but she would not hear of it. She had pointed out that wherever he went he would be liable to be challenged as a deserter by police, military pickets and railway detectives and, since he had no papers he could produce, promptly arrested. In consequence, she insisted, they must make the journey to Berlin together. She had been granted special permits which allowed her to travel freely everywhere in Germany during wartime, except in the military zones, and she felt confident that they would be ab
le to think up some plausible story by which she could take him with her.

  Now that he was on the last stage of his mission he was exceedingly anxious to complete it as soon as possible, so in spite of the personal temptation to linger with Erika he had then suggested that they should both leave the house before the servants were up. She had replied that her sudden disappearance with a Gestapo man—as it was to his visit on the previous night that the servants would attribute her sudden departure—would be certain to arouse their anxiety on her account and they would telephone her friends, who would immediately set an inquiry going. To avoid that she must have her bags packed and leave in a normal manner.

  In a last attempt to expose her to as little risk as possible he had put up the idea that he should leave before daylight and conceal himself somewhere in the neighbourhood where she could pick him up later. But this she had vetoed, on the grounds that once out of the house, either in the S.S. uniform he was wearing or in a suit of civilian clothes, he would be exposed to the gravest risks unless she were with him.

  Her reasoning was so sound that he had felt entirely justified in giving way to his own inclinations and agreeing that it was much better to remain there concealed until the following night, which would give them ample time to formulate a really sound plan of campaign, than to rush into unwarranted danger for the sake of trying to save a few hours.

  In consequence, when dawn came with Erika still in his arms, despite his grim forebodings he dropped into a blissful doze, and they did not rouse themselves until ten o’clock, when daylight was filtering through the chinks of the heavy curtains.

  For a little they talked of themselves and spoke of the wonderful joy of having found each other, their murmurs being interspersed by many kisses and caresses. Then Erika threw back her tumbled golden hair, sat up in bed and fumbled for a cigarette, which he quickly took and lighted for her.

  ‘Breakfast now, mein Liebling, I think,’ she whispered, smiling at him with heavy-lidded eyes still half-closed from sleep. ‘It’s half-past ten and the war goes on. We must do something about it.’

  ‘Damn the war!’ he murmured, stretching luxuriously among the tumbled sheets. ‘Still, you’re right, my sweet; I’d better make myself scarce and leave this Paradise for the outer darkness of the clothes-cupboard, I suppose.’

  ‘That’s it,’ she laughed, bending over to kiss him again; ‘and and if you’re very quiet and very good you shall share my breakfast with me.’

  ‘Quiet,’ grinned Gregory, ‘but not good,’ and putting his hand round the back of her neck he tilted up her chin and drew her down on top of him.

  ‘Don’t!’ she gurgled, trying to suppress her laughter, ‘Stop it, or I’ll burn you with my cigarette!’

  He promptly stubbed his own out and taking hers from her put that out too. It was eleven o’clock before he had collected his scattered garments to retire into the clothes-closet and she was able to unlock the door and ring for breakfast.

  After the maid had brought her tray, turned on a bath and gone again Erika re-locked the door and called him out, upon which they got back into bed to share the hot coffee, home-baked rolls and honey.

  ‘I told Mitzi,’ she said, ‘that I twisted my ankle last night, and so that I can keep it up I mean to stay in bed all day.’

  ‘Angel!’ murmured Gregory. ‘How clever of you. If you’d said you were ill, that would have meant a light lunch; whereas people with twisted ankles are entitled to have gargantuan appetites, which means that you can order a highly satisfactory. lunch for two!’

  ‘That’s just what I thought,’ she smiled, ‘and I had the idea, too, that you might prefer to remain in bed all day rather than sit locked in the clothes-closet.’

  ‘Bless you!’ he laughed, planting a swift kiss on the back of her neck which nearly made her upset the coffee.

  When they had finished breakfast they wandered into the bathroom. Fortunately it was well away from the servants’ quarters so they were able to fool about in the warm, scented water of the great, sunken bath to their hearts’ content providing they kept the sounds of their laughter within reasonable bounds, and Gregory was able to shave himself with the tackle which he had taken such a risk to secure at the same time as he had collected his cap, before leaving the Regina Palast.

  Afterwards Erika drew the bolt of the door which was flush with the wall and hardly perceptible among the frescoes of the undersea scene which ran round the room. Beyond it was her husband’s bedroom, and making Gregory fetch his things she locked him in there while she did her hair and made up her face. Thus she was able to ring again for her maid and let the girl take the breakfast tray, tidy the suite, put away discarded clothes, and so on without the least suspicion that her mistress was still entertaining the dark, lean-faced S.S. officer who had been there the night before.

  When Erika had finished her toilette she ordered luncheon for one-thirty and as soon as Mitzi had disappeared she let Gregory out of his hiding-place, upon which they curled up in bed again to doze for the next hour. Gregory took refuge in the clothes-closet at twenty-past one and popped out of it again directly Erika’s luncheon-tray had been brought up. Having followed the same procedure after the meal, while Mitzi removed the tray, he re-locked the bedroom door and they set about making serious plans for the evening.

  He learned that the car in which he had held Erika up out-side Coblenz had been temporarily placed at her disposal while she was in that area by her friend General von der Goltz, which accounted for its having a military chauffeur, but that on her return to Munich she had not been able to take the car permanently out of the Rhineland Command. She had three cars of her own but two of them were laid up, and in spite of her influence she had only been able to secure permits for just sufficient petrol to run her in and out of Munich; so it was impossible for them to go to Berlin by car. On the other hand, Colonel Baron von Buhl, the Chief Railway Transport officer at Munich, was another old friend of hers, so she thought she would be able to arrange for two sleepers on the night express.

  For the purpose of attempting to secure adjacent accommodation on the train a bold step was decided upon. Gregory was to pose as Auguste von Leuterlachen, a cousin of Erika’s who had been living in the United States for the past ten years and was there still, as far as she knew. If they said that he had returned to Germany after the outbreak of war, that would account for his not yet being a member of any uniformed service, and even his lack of papers might be got over at a pinch by his long residence in the United States and the disorder into which the permit bureaux had been thrown by the outbreak of hostilities. Erika therefore telephoned Colonel Baron von Buhl to ask if he could possibly manage to let her have two sleepers on the night train for Berlin for herself and her cousin.

  The gallant old colonel pretended to grumble, chaffed her about her cousin and said he would see what he could do. After keeping her waiting for a few minutes he came on the line again to say that he had fixed the matter up, and demanded that she let him give her lunch on the first day after her return from Berlin as a quid pro quo for his good offices.

  The conversation was not rendered any easier by the fact that Gregory was tickling her back, but the Colonel put her giggles down to a playful mood and admirable good humour, having little idea that while she was talking to him she was sitting in bed with a British Secret Service agent. She laughingly accepted the invitation and arranged that the sleeper tickets should be left for her at the booking-office. The cousin idea seemed a good one, and it was agreed that Gregory should pose as Auguste von Leuterlachen for the whole of the journey.

  The afternoon sped by all too quickly. Erika telephoned down to say that she did not desire Kaffeetrinken at four o’clock but would like a bottle of champagne sent up at six, Gregory made himself scarce again when it was brought and then reappeared to drink it with her, remarking how fortunate it was that she liked champagne herself and drank it frequently. They thought it wisest to leave about a third of the wine in the
bottle, which they did regretfully, but it was hardly likely that she would have consumed a whole bottle herself at six o’clock in the evening.

  After this short interlude she led him through the bathroom to the Count’s bedroom, where they selected a grey, London-made lounge suit, a camel-hair overcoat, tie, shoes, shirt, etc. The Count was a little taller than Gregory and his shoulders were somewhat narrower, so the clothes would have filled with horror the Savile-Row cutter who made them, had he seen them on their borrower.

  While he was dressing in the Count’s room Mitzi packed for her mistress and afterwards brought up dinner, so when Erika came along to tell him the coast was clear again he found her fully dressed and ready for the journey.

  During the meal, from which she fed him with substantial tit-bits on her fork, they discussed the problem of getting him out of the house unseen and Erika said that since darkness had now fallen she thought the best thing for him to do was to go by way of the garden. From the bathroom window he could lower himself on to a flat, out-jutting roof above the billiard-room which was only about fifteen feet above the ground, and from there he could scramble down a drainpipe.

  As she had to get him into Munich it was unavoidable that her chauffeur should see him, but that would not matter providing that the man did not actually see him leaving the house, so he was to come round the side of Das Kleine Schloss in the darkness, turn left when he reached the road and walk as far as the third corner, where she would pick him up as though by arrangement.

  When the time of departure drew near they were tempted to linger, loath to leave the lovely room in which they had both known such brief but glowing happiness for the unknown dangers that might await them outside it. But after a last long, lingering kiss Gregory threw his leg over the bathroom window-sill and slid down on to the flat roof below.