Rosnold half started to his feet, staring at Gilly as she lay, sobbing, her hands holding her aching face.
'I apologise,' von Goltz said quietly. 'I didn't want any unpleasantness, but this stupid girl doesn't seem to realise the situation.' He paused then looked at Rosnold. 'Where are the films?'
'In my bank at Paris,' Rosnold said.
'You stinking coward!' Gilly cried, scrambling to her feet. 'How could you tell him!' She started across the room towards Rosnold, but Girland was out of his chair and intercepted her. He ducked her flying fist and pulled her against him.
'Play it cool,' he said softly. 'Don't get so excited. You can't win all the time.'
She stared for a long moment at him, then she threw off his hands and walked unsteadily to a chair away from him and sat down.
Girland returned to his chair and sat on the arm. He took out his pack of cigarettes, shook out a cigarette and lit it.
Von Goltz said, 'You will write a letter to your bank, Mr Rosnold, telling them to give the films to the bearer of the letter.' He pointed to a desk standing in a corner of the room. 'You will find paper and envelopes there. When my messenger returns from Paris with the films, you three will be free to leave here.'
Rosnold hesitated, then got up and went to the desk. He wrote rapidly, addressed the envelope and then gave the letter to von Goltz to read.
'Excellent. Thank you for your cooperation.' Von Goltz got to his feet. 'In two days you will be free to go. In the meantime, please amuse yourselves. I would not advise you to leave the terrace. The dogs are extremely dangerous. However, there is a swimming-pool at the back terrace you may use. There is a billiards room. Make yourselves at home. I will see you all again for dinner. If there is anything you want, please ask Fritz.'
He left them, carrying the letter, his smile showing his satisfaction.
Girland got to his feet.
'After that lunch, I think I need a cap,' he said. He looked at Gilly. 'Maybe we'll meet in a couple of hours at the swimming-pool.'
He walked into the hall where the servants stood watching him. He stared at them and they stared woodenly back, then whistling softly under his breath, he climbed the stairs to his room.
* * *
At 16.00 hrs. Girland came from his room wearing a pair of swimming trunks and carrying a towel over his shoulder.
Fritz was waiting in the corridor. He bowed to Girland and led the way down to the swimming-pool.
The heated pool was at the rear of the Schloss and so positioned that it caught the afternoon sun. It was some twenty metres long with a high dive board and around it were set out tables, lounging chairs, li-los and sun umbrellas.
Girland dived in and swam the length, then turning on his back, he floated in the warm, blue water, staring up at the sunlit sky. He hadn't been in the water for more than a few minutes when Gilly appeared, wearing a white bikini. She took a racing dive into the water and swam past him with a showy, fast crawl.
Girland watched her as she spun around, kicked off against the side of the bath and made for the other end. She swam well: almost professionally. When she reached the far end, she hoisted herself out of the pool and sat on the edge, her feet in the water.
With a slow, lazy crawl stroke, Girland swam towards her. Reaching her, he trod water, looking up at her.
'Got over your temper?' he asked with a smile.
'Oh, stop it!' she said sharply. 'It isn't funny! What is going to happen to us?'
He caught hold of her ankles and hauled her into the water. She splashed down beside him. His hand supported her, keeping her head above water.
'We're being watched,' he told her. 'There is a man on the second floor right window watching us.'
Gilly swam around the pool and then rejoined Girland.
'Who is it?'
'Your guess is as good as mine. Let's sunbathe. Keep your voice down, and don't get excited. Remember you are being watched.'
They hauled themselves out of the pool and stretched out on li-los.
Fat Fritz appeared with cigarettes and a lighter. He asked what they would like to drink. Gilly shook her head, but they took cigarettes.
Girland waves Fritz away. When he had left the terrace, Girland said, 'I hope you now realise the spot we're in?'
Gilly lit the cigarette and half-turned on her side to look at him.
'You puzzle me... just where do you come in on all this?'
'Your father hired me to get your films.' Girland spoke softly. He was lying on his back, staring up at the blue sky. 'What defeats me is how a girl like you could have made such films.'
‘Are you telling me you are working for my father?' Gilly half sat up, then controlling herself, she relaxed back on the li-lo.
'That's what I'm telling you. I work for anyone who pays me,' Girland said. 'I don't like your father. I don't like you. This is a job... simple as that.'
'You don't like me?’ Gilly glared at him. 'You didn't dislike me last night!'
'When a woman walks into my bedroom and throws herself at me - especially when she is as well put together as you are - I take what she offers,' Girland said. 'But that doesn't mean I like her or think anything of her.'
'Oh! Just why don't you like me?'
'Because you are a blackmailer.' Girland released smoke down his nostrils, eyeing the burning end of his cigarette. 'Blackmailers are never my kind of people.'
Gilly lay still, her hands on her breasts. Her face had lost colour and her mouth was now a thin, hard line.
'All right. . . I'm a blackmailer. How else could I stop my father becoming President? I don't give a damn about myself...I never have, but I am determined he isn't going to be President. I used the only weapon I had to stop him.'
Girland turned his head to study her.
'Tell me why you want to stop him?'
'I'll tell you... because he is unfit for high office. Because he is weak, vain and stupid. Because he and my mother only think of themselves and seeing themselves with power.'
'That's your point of view . . . I'm not saying you are wrong. You're working with Rosnold, aren't you? This Ban War organisation gives you a kick, doesn't it?'
'And why shouldn't it?'
'It's the old story, Gilly . . . people like to be big fishes in a small pond. If Rosnold and his organisation wasn't so interested in you -and they are interested because you can stop a man from becoming a President - you wouldn't be making this trouble. Isn't it because this organisation is making you an important person, you are blackmailing your father?'
'All right... if you like to think that... I don't care! There are many reasons. Anyway, he made a mess of my life . . . now, I'm going to make a mess of his!'
'Are you sure he made a mess of your life?' Girland asked. 'Are you sure you're blaming him instead of blaming yourself?'
'Don't feed me that stuff!' Gilly said fiercely. 'Neither of my parents wanted me... they did everything they knew how to get rid of me. So now I'm in the position to give them something really to be ashamed of. I don't expect you to believe this ... and I don't care, but I hated making those films. Pierre promised me once they were made, my father couldn't become President... so I made them.'
'Oh, come on!' Girland said impatiently. ‘I don't believe it. Why don't you face facts, Gilly? You are an immoral slut. You have let this weak-kneed organisation go to your head. You are glorifying in being someone important because you are in the position to stop a man becoming President of the United States. If it wasn't for Rosnold and this organisation, you wouldn't give a damn if your father became President or not.'
'God! I hate you!' Gilly said. 'Everything you've said is not true!' She sat up and leaning over him, she went on fiercely, 'This count can have the films! Why should I care! When I get back to Paris I will make other films! My father is not going to be President!'
'When you get back to Paris?' Girland stubbed out his cigarette. 'What makes you think you are going back to Paris?'
She stare
d at him: her eyes opening wide.
'Of course, I'm going back to Paris! What do you mean?'
'You can't be this dumb,' Girland said as he stared at a floating cloud. 'When von Goltz gets the films, he will make sure none of us leave here and neither you nor Rosnold ever make another stag film.'
Gilly lay for a long moment, frowning, then her eyes opened wide with shock.
'But he can't do that! How can he? He said once he had the films, we were free to go. As soon as I get back to Paris, I will make more films!'
'The trick with this is you don't return to Paris.'
Gilly began to say something, then paused. She lost colour as she stared at Girland.
'You can't mean...'
'Of course. When the films arrive, your nice, handsome count will get rid of us permanently.' Girland lifted his head and looked across the wide, immaculate lawns to the distant, dense forest. 'There are plenty of convenient places out there for a triple burial.'
'You mean he will murder us?' Gilly sat up. 'I don't believe it!'
'If he is anything like his charming uncle... and I'm sure he is... he won't hesitate to wipe us out as you wouldn't hesitate to swat a fly.'
'But you can't kill three people ... just like that.' Her voice was husky and her eyes alarmed. 'I don't believe it! The hotel knows we are here. When - if-we are reported missing, there will be an inquiry. The police... he can't... he wouldn't dare.'
'I saw something interesting from my bedroom window before I came down here,' Girland said, closing his eyes against the sun. 'One of von Goltz's servants drove off in your T.R.4. Another of his servants drove off in my car. At a guess, the T.R.4 will be found at the Munich car park. My car could be found anywhere. Yes, of course the police will come here, but von Goltz is important in this district. He will tell them we were here for the night and then left for Paris. He has no idea what could have happened to us. You can't expect the police to dig up every metre of this enormous estate in the hope of finding our bodies, can you?'
Gilly shivered.
‘I just don't believe it... you're trying to frighten me because you hate me!'
Girland shrugged.
'I don't hate you, Gilly. I just think you're a mixed-up kid and I must admit I'm so bored with mixed-up kids. Listen: the messenger will arrive in Paris around 22.00 hrs. tonight. He will pick up the films tomorrow morning and catch the 14.00 hrs. flight back to Munich. He should be here with the films around 18.00 hrs. So we have from now until 18.00 hrs. tomorrow to dream up a way to get out of here alive.'
Gilly said, 'You really believe this man will kill all three of us when he gets the films?'
Girland got to his feet and draped his towel over his shoulders. He smiled down at her.
'Wouldn't you if you were in his place?' he said and walked across the terrace and up to his room.
Gilly looked across the wide sweep of lawn. At the edge of the forest she saw the two black alsatian dogs, their heads resting on their paws, staring towards her.
With a sudden sick feeling of fear, she scrambled to her feet, snatched up her towel and ran after Girland.
From the upper window, Lu Silk touched off the ash of his cigarette and stood up. He regarded the distant dogs, then crossed the room to where a .22 target rifle, equipped with a telescopic sight, lay on the table. He picked up the weapon and balanced it in his capable, killer's hands. He liked the feel of it. Carrying it to the open window, he aimed the rifle at one of the alsatian dogs. The cross hair line of the telescopic sight centred on the dog's head. Silk adjusted the sight slightly, bringing the dog sharply into focus, then satisfied, he lowered the rifle and put it against the wall.
There came a tap on the door and von Goltz came in.
'The two cars have gone,' he said as he closed the door. 'Are you satisfied that it will be safe to get rid of them here?'
'Yes... where else?' Silk sat down. He put a cigarette between his thin lips. 'Where can we bury them?'
'There is a rubbish tip in the forest that is permanently smouldering and white-hot,' von Goltz said. 'They can be thrown there. The morning's refuse will cover them.'
'You can trust your servants?'
Von Goltz hesitated.
'Yes... I think so.'
Silk stared at him. His one eye was probing.
'That's up to you ... if you are sure, then it's settled.'
Von Goltz took a turn around the room.
'How will you do it?' he asked finally.
'A little target practice... it could be amusing.' Silk went over to the .22 rifle and picked it up. 'This is a fine weapon. Send them out onto the lawn and I'll pick them off like rabbits.'
Von Goltz flinched.
'Be careful of Girland.'
Silk grinned.
'I'll take him first,' he said and put the rifle down on the table.
* * *
As Girland entered his bedroom, he knew instinctively that someone had been there while he had been in the pool. This he expected. After closing and locking the door, he went to his suitcase and tossed out its contents on the bed. He regarded the bottom of the empty case with a nod of satisfaction. Whoever had searched the case had been an amateur.
He pressed the tiny spring, hidden under the lining of the case. The bottom of the case clicked open, revealing a tray in which were his professional weapons. They consisted of a Walther automatic pistol with a magazine capacity of eight rounds, a razor-sharp double bladed stabbing knife and a tear gas bomb. When Girland travelled on business, he travelled well equipped.
Satisfied none of his weapons had been discovered, he shut the false lid and replaced his clothes in the suitcase.
Then he stripped off his wet bathing trunks, towelled himself and put on a wrap. He went out on to the balcony and sat in the basket-chair from which he could overlook the immaculate lawn. He sat there for some time, smoking and thinking and watching the two alsatian dogs as they prowled around the rough grass on the edge of the lawn and the forest.
When the light began to fail and the air became chilly, he returned to his room. He took a hot shower and then dressed for dinner. It was while he was knotting his tie that his door slammed open and Gilly rushed in: her eyes wide with fright, her face white.
'You've got to stop him!' she shrilled, reaching Girland and grabbing his arm. 'He's trying to get away!'
Girland's mind immediately reacted.
'Where is he?'
'He's climbing from his balcony down to the terrace!'
Girland moved swiftly out onto the balcony. He was in time to see Rosnold drop on to the terrace below. Rosnold held a medieval battle-axe which he had taken from the corridor wall. As Girland spotted him, Rosnold started across the terrace. 'Rosnold! Come back!' Girland shouted.
Gilly joined him on the balcony. She too screamed after Rosnold who paid no attention.
'Come back!' Girland bawled, but Rosnold kept on. He took the steps leading from the terrace to the lawn two at the time and then disappeared into the heavy shadows. They could hear the thud of his feet as he began to run across the lawn.
Suddenly, from the roof of the Schloss, a searchlight snapped on... a blinding ribbon of light. It picked up Rosnold as he raced across the lawn, giving him a grotesque shadow five times his own height that fled before him. From out of the darkness an alsatian dog appeared, moving fast and silently. Rosnold stopped short, turned and faced the dog as it sprang at him. The axe, the blade glittering in the beam of the searchlight, swung and there was a crunching sound as the blade crushed the dog's head. As Rosnold began to run again, the second dog appeared. It sprang at him, his fangs bared. Rosnold swayed away, and the dog went past him, rebounded sprang again. Rosnold was ready, and again the axe swung. The dog gave a yelp of pain and rolled over, snapping at its damaged leg.
Gilly choked back a scream and hid her face. Girland leaned over the balcony rail, watching.
Still holding the blood-stained axe, Rosnold darted off to the left, and for a brief
moment the finger of the searchlight lost him then it picked him up again as he continued on his way, running very fast, across the lawn. He was within four or five metres of the entrance to the dense forest when there came a snap of gunfire.
Lu Silk, standing on his balcony, immediately above Girland's balcony, felt a surge of satisfaction as he lowered the .22 rifle. Rosnold had jumped high in the air with the reaction of a shot rabbit as the tiny bullet had slammed into the back of his head and through his brain. Considering how fast Rosnold had been running and also considering the poor light, Silk decided that this was the best shot he had made for a long time. He patted the butt of the gun to convey his appreciation.
'They've killed him!' Gilly moaned, staring across the lawn at Rosnold's still body, lighted by the searchlight. ‘I told him! I warned him, but he panicked! He wouldn't listen to me!'
Girland paid no attention to her. He moved swiftly back into his room, ran to his suitcase and threw out the contents on the bed. He opened the false bottom and took the automatic pistol from its resting place and shoved it into his hip pocket. Then he threw the contents of the suitcase back in and slammed the lid.
Gilly came into the room from the balcony, white faced and shaking. 'Get hold of yourself!' Girland snapped. 'This is the crunch! Where's your passport?' She stared at him, dazed. 'Passport?' Where is it?'
'In my room.'
'Get it... hurry!'
'They've killed him!' She began to wring her hands.
Girland grabbed hold of her and shook her. 'Get your passport!'
Crying, she ran blindly from the room and into her bedroom. Girland went after her. He shut his door and as he entered her room, she was fumbling at her bag. He snatched it from her, opened it, assured himself the passport was in the bag, then grabbing her arm, he rushed her out into the corridor.
'Don't make a sound!'
Moving silently, he pushed her up the stairs to the upper floor, paused to look along the long corridor and then pushed her up the next flight of stairs. As they were stumbling up the stairs, Girland heard the thudding of feet as von Goltz's servants came running up the lower stairs.
1969 - The Whiff of Money Page 13