They had barely exchanged greetings when the torch of the policeman who was lifting Gregory into the van shifted, revealing Erika further inside it. Caution demanded that she should conceal her elation in front of the policeman but she could not altogether repress the look of joy which suddenly suffused her face as she saw Gregory alive and unharmed, and immediately the van doors were closed she flung herself into his arms.
“What on earth are you doing here, my pet?” Gregory whispered as the van jolted into motion.
“I was caught by a civilian,” she answered quickly, “a man who entered the lane from my end just before the bomb went off. I stopped him and pretended I had lost my way, just as we arranged. Then the explosion occurred and he thought that I must have had something to do with it, so in spite of my protests he hung on to me until the police turned up. But what does it matter—what does anything matter except that you’re alive and safe? My heart nearly choked me with every shot that was fired.”
Gregory grinned into the darkness of the speeding van as he held her tight. “Yes. It was a pretty tough business and I was lucky to come out of it better than the rest. But we got the packet all right; Wuolijoki has it now, so it’s on it’s way to Mannerheim.”
“Oh, splendid, darling—splendid! Did you see Grauber?”
“Did I not!” Gregory could still taste the salt blood that had been running from his nose. “The swine cornered me and I’m afraid I won’t be much to look at for the next few days, darling, but the police arrested him and all his friends as well as us and they’re on the way to police headquarters in another van.”
“How about Fredeline?” Erika suddenly asked; and von Kobenthal answered out of the darkness:
“She got away all right; I saw her standing among the crowd as I was led out. She saw me, too, so—thank God—she knows that I’m not dead.”
“What d’you think they’ll do to us?” Freddie inquired.
“Nothing,” said Erika promptly. “Wuolijoki will fix it somehow so that we’re released tomorrow morning.”
At police headquarters the wounded were helped out and the little party was put into a bleak waiting-room furnished with pitch-pine. A large stove roared in the corner and the heat was almost unbearable after the intense cold outside. The police captain came in to take their names. Erika, Charlton, von Kobenthal and Suki gave theirs without hesitation, but Gregory found himself in a most disagreeable quandary. As he had claimed to be a representative of the British Government the officer would think it extremely strange if he gave the name of von Lutz; yet if he gave that of Gregory Sallust the British Legation in Helsinki would equally disclaim all knowledge of him. However, it didn’t much matter what the police thought, so long as Wuolijoki was not given the least reason to suppose that there was anything phony about Marshal Goering’s emissary. Wuolijoki would have assumed, Gregory felt certain, that he had only claimed to be British in front of Grauber as a ruse to contest the true ownership of the papers and provide a reason for their being given into a neutral’s keeping. The diplomat would expect Gregory to disclose his German identity once he was out of Grauber’s presence, so after having pretended for a moment not to have heard the officer’s question Gregory gave his name as Colonel-Baron von Lutz. The captain blinked, but he was a stolid man; he made no comment and went off to make his report, leaving two policemen with them.
A few minutes after he had gone a doctor came in to make a first examination of the wounds of von Kobenthal and Suki. He declared that none of the injuries was serious, and having applied first-aid dressings, said that he would later attend to them properly. Twenty minutes elapsed; then the party was led along a passage to the room of the Chief of Police. The officer who had arrested them was with him.
The Chief of Police was a grizzled-haired man with a sweeping moustache. He spoke in German, telling them all to be seated. He then signed to the captain and the men who had brought them to leave the room and, when the door was closed, said abruptly: “I don’t pretend to know what lies at the bottom of this affair but I have received a note from Monsieur Wuolijoki asking me to give you every consideration possible. In consequence, if you are prepared to pledge me your word that you will not attempt to escape I shall not put you in cells for the night.”
They all voiced their agreement to his proposal and he went on:
“That is satisfactory, because as two of you are wounded they would normally be sent to the infirmary; but owing to the crisis every hospital in Helsinki has now been evacuated in case of an unprovoked air-attack. We wish to keep every bed free; but I can give you a room where beds will be made up for you and those of you who are unwounded can then look after the others.”
“I am quite prepared to act as nurse,” Erika volunteered.
The police chief nodded. “In that case you can remain with your friends, Frau Gräfin; otherwise I was going to provide you with separate accommodation.” He pressed a buzzer on his desk and a police orderly appeared. Having thanked the Chief of Police for his courtesy they said good-night and filed out into the passage.
The orderly led them up to the fourth floor and into a room which looked as though it was used as a lounge by some of the Finnish detectives. It had a large table, numerous chairs and three sofas. The doctor rejoined them a few minutes later, bringing with him two more orderlies who carried piles of bedding.
Von Kobenthal and Suki were helped to undress and their wounds were properly bathed and bandaged while Gregory washed the blood from his bruised face. One bullet had gone through the fleshy part of von Kobenthal’s arm and the other was lodged in his shoulder. Extracting it was a painful business but he stood it well and they then got him into a bed that had been made up on one of the sofas. Suki’s wound was only a long cut where a bullet had grazed the upper part of his thigh and he declared himself quite comfortable when they had tucked him up in a second bed. Three others were then made up, one on the remaining sofa for Erika and two on the floor for the un-wounded men; after which the doctor and the orderlies departed, locking the door behind them.
Gregory dimmed the light so that the wounded men should have a better chance of getting off to sleep; then he sat himself down beside Erika on her sofa and told her in a low voice the details of what had occurred inside the Gestapo Headquarters.
When he had done she smiled, and said: “Well, thank God that’s over, and I feel sure we’ll all be free tomorrow. It’s rotten luck, though, that we should have to spend the first night of our reunion like this.”
Gregory felt as badly about it as she did but they tried to console themselves with the thought that they were at least together again, and after a while he urged her to lie down and get some sleep. But she would not hear of it, as she meant to look after von Kobenthal and Suki through the night and the doctor had left with her various items, such as Veganin tablets to give the men if they were in pain and barley-water for them to drink if they were thirsty.
For a time the two of them sat silent in order to give the others a chance to get off to sleep; then, when snores told them that their object was accomplished, they lay down together and exchanged more detailed accounts of all that had happened to them during the three weeks they had been separated.
At seven o’clock police orderlies came in to rouse them. A police matron appeared, who took charge of Erika and led her away to the women’s section where she was able to have a steam-bath and tidy herself; while the orderlies took Gregory and Freddie to the men’s baths where they had their first experience of the national manner in which the Finns cleanse themselves. They stripped, and, instead of an ordinary bath, were led into a steam-room where the temperature was very high and they sweated profusely. Afterwards they were given large towels with which to rub themselves down and were lent razors so that they could shave.
On returning to their room they found Erika washing the two wounded men and, in due course, a good, plain breakfast for all five of them was brought up. The doctor appeared at nine o’clock and afte
r examining the two invalids he reported that the wounds were clean and that both were doing well. Suki’s wound was so slight that the doctor measured him for crutches and said that he would be able to get up the following day.
The doctor having gone Gregory insisted that Erika should get some sleep and Freddie said that Gregory ought to do so too, volunteering to look after the other two while they slept; but they did not get very long, as at half past ten Fredeline von Kobenthal was shown in, having obtained permission to see her husband.
When she had fussed over Oscar and assured herself that they were being well looked after she told them that in spite of the fact that the Finns still remained outwardly calm the underlying feeling that in a few hours the crisis would reach a head was stronger than ever. From an early hour that Wednesday morning—long before the late winter dawn—everybody in Helsinki had been out and about making feverish preparations against the Russian onslaught, as rumour now had it that the Finnish Government had definitely determined to resist; which looked as though Goering’s report was having due effect.
Fredeline was allowed to stay for an hour and, being satisfied that her husband was not dangerously wounded and that they would all be released quite shortly, she amused them with her chatter. Soon after she had gone a midday meal was served, but no official came up to see them so they remained in ignorance as to how their case was being regarded, until Wuolijoki was shown in at half past four. He looked extremely worried and when they questioned him he said at once:
“After seeing the report Marshal Mannerheim determined to make the strongest possible stand and early this morning he submitted his views, together with the report, to the Cabinet, who are still considering their decision. But I did not come about that.” He turned his glance on Gregory. “I wish to know who you are?”
Gregory stimulated blank surprise. “But I told you yesterday, I am Colonel-Baron von Lutz.”
“I’m not quite satisfied about that.”
“Really!” Gregory shrugged. “My credentials are all in order. You saw both my passport and the letter from Field-Marshal Goering, so what possible reason can you have for suddenly questioning my identity?”
“But you had two passports,” Wuolijoki persisted; “the German one which you showed me, and a British passport—in the name of Mr. Gregory Sallust—which you presented on your arrival at the air-port here. Then, last night in front of me you claimed that you were acting on behalf of the British Government.”
“True. But I couldn’t possibly admit, in front of members of the Gestapo, that I was acting on behalf of Field-Marshal Goering. I had to lay some claim to the papers—and that seemed to me as good as any.”
“It is curious, to say the least of it, that you should have arrived here piloted by a British Air Force officer.”
“Flight-Lieutenant Charlton agreed to fly me to Helsinki as the price of his liberty. I told you that yesterday.”
“Perhaps. But having carried out his part of the bargain why should he involve himself further in your affairs? He is an Englishman; while you say that you are a German. England and Germany are at war. It is not natural that two enemies should agree to risk their lives together in the way that you two did last night.”
“It was my idea entirely,” Freddie volunteered. “I simply couldn’t resist the chance of having a cut at some of those swine in the Gestapo.”
“Well—we shall see,” Wuolijoki said non-committally; and Gregory did not like his tone at all.
Although he did not show it he had an unpleasant premonition that he might soon find himself in very serious trouble. This impostor business was a great game so long as nobody could check up on one, but in order to keep Goering out of it he had had to play a dual rôle in Finland—landing there as an Englishman so that the Gestapo should not suspect that he had come from Germany, then posing as a German so that Wuolijoki should readily accept him as Goering’s envoy. He remembered Goering’s telling him that Wuolijoki was half-German, through his mother, which accounted for the fact that the diplomat was distinctly anti-British in his outlook. He had accepted Freddie without open hostility the night before, evidently considering him as no more than a pawn in the game, but if he once secured definite proof that Gregory was also an Englishman the fat would be in the fire. He would regard himself as having been tricked, start looking for hidden motives which did not exist and probably withdraw any protection he was at present prepared to give them, and on which their fate now hung, on account of his inbred enmity for the British.
“I take it we can rely on you to get us out of this?” Gregory said with an assurance he no longer felt; and he waited with acute anxiety for the Finnish diplomat’s answer.
Chapter XVII
The Trials of an Impostor
Wuolijoki regarded Gregory with a distrustful stare as he replied: “The present situation is none of my seeking. The last thing I wished was that a shooting affray should result from your suggestion of burgling the Gestapo Headquarters. Now, unfortunately, the matter has become a diplomatic incident. The German Minister here made the strongest possible protest to my Government this morning about the arrest of the Gestapo men, and since it cannot be concealed that your party were the aggressors we have been compelled to release them; whereas you people must remain under arrest.”
“D’you mean that the Finnish police are going to bring charges against us?” Erika asked indignantly.
Wuolijoki looked uncomfortable. “Frau Gräfin, it is true that I sponsored this venture unofficially and even assisted it by supplying bombs and the best arms to utilise in a hold-up; but I did warn all concerned that in the event of any shooting your friends would be held responsible by the Finnish law. In the fight last night four Gestapo men were wounded—one of them very seriously. God knows, I did not wish to bring the police into this affair but after the shooting had been going on for a few minutes I realised that the only way to get your friends out of the place alive was to have them arrested; so I went off in my car and collected a squad of police from the nearest station.”
“Yes; you certainly saved our lives,” Gregory agreed. “But what is to happen now? You know as well as I do the reason why we raided the place. Through the raid you were enabled to secure those documents which are so vital to Finland and which will be of inestimable value to her if she decides to defend herself. Surely you don’t propose to abandon us after we have rendered your country such a signal service?”
“First I must know if you are, in fact, Colonel-Baron von Lutz or Mr. Gregory Sallust, and an inquiry is in process which I trust will reveal your true identity. When I have that information I shall know how to act.”
‘Here are these damnably awkward suspicions cropping up again,’ thought Gregory uneasily. ‘Perhaps if I test out the fellow’s reactions to the possibility that I might be one of the British he appears to hate so much, we’ll learn a little more where we stand.’ So he shrugged and said: “Just supposing that on some trumped-up evidence you did decide that I was an Englishman, what difference would that make? It was I who got Marshal Goering’s report to Finland for you, and that’s the only thing that really matters.”
“Not at all!” Wuolijoki gestured violently. “Whether you’re a German or an Englishman makes a great deal of difference. If you are a German you have acted with me in good faith and there can be no reason to doubt that those documents are genuine. In that case I shall feel a definite obligation to get you out of this trouble. I cannot alter the Finnish law but I could arrange for the Finnish police to connive at your escape.”
“Thank you; that is no less than what I expected,” Gregory said quietly, but the half-German Finn ignored his interruption and hurried on:
“If, on the other hand, you are an Englishman you have lied to me for some reason best known to yourself. It may be that you are an agent provocateur and that all those documents which you brought to Finland were forged with the object of inducing Finland to go to war as a pawn in the game that the Western Po
wers are playing—caring nothing for her, but just so that Russia should be distracted from sending supplies to Germany for a few weeks. If they are forgeries the details in them can no longer be facts culled from an authoritative source. If we act upon them, and they are incorrect, thousands of Finnish soldiers may lose their lives in consequence of alterations in our strategy. In such a case you will have acted as the betrayer of my country, instead of as its friend, and I shall not lift one finger to avert such consequences as may come to you as a result of the affair last night.”
Before Gregory could speak again Wuolijoki bowed to Erika and, turning sharply on his heel, left the room.
“Are you an Englishman?” von Kobenthal suddenly asked from his bed.
“Yes,” Gregory replied frankly. “I’m sorry I had to deceive you about that; but the whole situation was so damnably complicated and my one anxiety was that Wuolijoki should have no reason to question the authenticity of the report; otherwise he would never have supplied us with bombs last night—and without bombs we should have been powerless to pull the job off.”
“The report we risked our lives for was faked, then,” said von Kobenthal bitterly. “You swine!”
“Good God, no!” Gregory took no notice of the abusive epithet. “I give you my word of honour that every one of those documents is absolutely genuine. We flew direct to Helsinki with them from Karinhall.”
Freddie nodded. “That’s so. I’ll give you my word on that as well.”
Von Kobenthal frowned. “You expect me to believe that Goering would trust an Englishman with such a mission?”
“You don’t understand, Oscar,” Erika hurried into the breach. “Mr. Sallust is an English agent but he has proved himself our friend. It was he who made possible the Army Putsch of November the 8th, and Uncle Jocheim decorated him with the Iron Cross for his services. Goering knew that he was an Englishman but also knew that he could be trusted.”
Faked Passports Page 23