1969 - The Whiff of Money

by James Hadley Chase

  Girland reached the third landing which was in darkness. He paused to lean over the banisters and peered down the well. He watched three liveried men come down the corridor on the first floor landing and charge into his bedroom.

  He waited long enough to see one of the servants come out to the head of the staircase and shout, 'He's not there!'

  Then as a bell began to dang, Girland took Gilly's arm and led her silently further down the dark corridor.

  chapter seven

  A Volkswagen 1500 stood by the roadside near the imposing entrance to the Obermitten Schloss. A silver-haired giant, wearing a shabby suit was working on the engine. Another nondescript-looking man sat on the grass bank, smoking.

  Occasionally a car roared by on its way to Munich. No driver stopped to ask if he could help. The dwindling rays of the evening sun came through the trees, making patterns on the roof of the car.

  Malik loosened a sparking-plug for the fifth time. He wanted to give the appearance of a breakdown. Although he was sure he wasn't being watched, he was taking no chances.

  As he began to tighten the sparking-plug, the wrought iron gates of the Schloss swung open and a scarlet T.R.4 came cautiously onto the main road.

  Malik straightened up and looked at the car as it gathered speed, driving past him. He knew the car belonged to Rosnold, but Rosnold was not at the wheel. The car was being driven by a thick-set, blond man wearing an ill-fitting business suit.

  Malik's mind worked swiftly. He made an instant decision. He slammed down the cover over the engine and said, 'Go after him!'

  Lintz was already on his feet. He slid under the driving wheel. 'What about you?' he asked as he started the engine.

  'Never mind about me!' Malik snapped. 'Go after him! Don't lose him! When you know where he has gone, report to Skoll.'

  Lintz nodded, engaged gear and drove off after the fast disappearing T.R.4 which was heading for Munich.

  Malik moved into the surrounding forest. He sat down on the dry, dusty ground, using a shrub as a shelter. Five minutes later a Mercedes car which he recognised as the one Girland had been driving, came through the open gates and turned left. A man Malik didn't recognise, who was wearing the same kind of shabby suit as the driver of the T.R.4, was at the wheel. The Mercedes headed towards Garmisch.

  Malik rubbed his jaw as he thought. It now looked as if he had guessed right. Girland, the girl and Rosnold had walked into a trap. Getting rid of their cars was the first step towards getting rid of them. There was nothing he could do about this for the moment. He would have to wait until it was dark. With the patience a trained agent, he relaxed against a tree and waited.

  Two hours later, it was dark enough for him to make a move. He got to his feet and silently left the forest. He began to walk around the high wall surrounding the Schloss.

  Some four hundred metres from the entrance gates, he paused and looked up at the towering concrete and flint wall. He studied the spikes set in the top of the wall. From his shabby jacket the produced a length of thin, nylon cord. At one end of die cord was a rubber-covered hook. He tossed the hook towards the spikes. The second throw succeeded. The hook settled silently around one of the spikes and held firm. Malik glanced from left to right. Satisfied there was no traffic, he caught hold of the cord, braced his feet against the wall and walked up, his strong hands hauling him effortlessly to the top. Here, he paused, and surveyed the dense forest below. He unhooked the cord, manoeuvred himself around the sharp spikes and then let himself drop on to the dry, mossy ground on the other side of the wall.

  He paused to coil the cord to a convenient size to fit his pocket, then drew from a shoulder holster a Mauser 7.63 pistol, fitted with a silencer. Moving like a shadow, he walked through the forest until he eventually reached the clearing between the forest and the wide, closely cut lawn. The moon was behind the clouds, and Malik could just see the distant lights from the Schloss. He squatted against a tree, nursing his gun and waited. An hour dragged by, then suddenly things began to happen.

  From a first floor window, Malik saw a man appear on the balcony. There was a brief glimpse of a woman, but the man threw her violently back into the room. The man climbed over the balcony rail, hung for a moment, then dropped heavily to the terrace below. He recovered his balance and darted down the steps to the lawn.

  Malik stood up, watching.

  Suddenly a bright beam from a searchlight flashed on from the roof of the Schloss and picked up the running man.

  Malik watched the brief, deadly battle between the man and the two alsatian dogs. He watched the man start to run fast towards him, then he heard the crack of a sporting rifle and saw the man drop.

  Malik moved silently back into the darkness of the forest. He remained there, motionless while two men came across the lawn und carried the lifeless body back to the Schloss.

  Lu Silk and von Goltz stood on the lighted terrace, looking towards the forest. Von Goltz held a microphone in his hand.

  Speaking slowly and clearly, his voice picked up on the speakers in the forest and along the walls of the Schloss, he was saying 'You cannot leave the grounds. Don't go near the walls. A lethal electric current has been turned on. Please come back. Mr Rosnold is not badly hurt. He is recovering. Please come back.'

  Listening to this, Silk moved impatiently.

  'Are you sure they can't get out?'

  Von Goltz switched off the microphone.

  'Impossible ... no one can get out now. The walls and the gates are lethal, but it could take time to find them. If I had more dogs, I'd flush them quickly, but without dogs ...'

  'Can't you get more?'

  Von Goltz shook his head.

  'Those two dogs that swine killed were trained to hunt men. The dogs belonging to my neighbours are sporting dogs. Besides, there would be questions asked. When it is light, we will have a hunt in the forest. It could be amusing. I am satisfied these two can't leave the estate.' He paused, then went on, 'But if they attempt to climb the walls . . .' He switched on the microphone and again repeated his warning that the walls were lethal.

  In the shadows, Malik listened and grimaced. Girland, standing on the third floor balcony overlooking the terrace, concealed in the darkness, also listened and grinned. He moved back into the vast dark room that seemed to be full of heavy furniture. He closed the windows.

  'It's working,' he said, joining Gilly. 'They think we are in the grounds as I thought they would.' He produced a tiny, powerful electric torch and swung the beam around the room. 'This looks big enough for a railway station.' He took her hand and led her down the aisle between the furniture until they reached a door. Gently, he opened it, listened, then threw the beam of his torch into what appeared to be a small retiring room. 'Let's settle here,' he said. 'It looks less grand.'

  Breathing fast and shaking, Gilly followed him into the room and he closed the door. His torch directed her to a dust-covered settee.

  'Sit down.'

  They sat side by side.

  'What are we going to do?' she asked. He could feel she was trembling. 'If they find us ... they'll murder us, won't they?'

  'They have to find us first.' Girland leaned close to her. 'They won't start looking for us until tomorrow when it is light. With any luck, they will search the forest. While they are out there, I'll go down and find a telephone. I'll call the U.S. Army in Munich. They'll arrive in force and we'll walk out. There is nothing to worry about. You'll just have to make up your mind to forget about having dinner and wait until tomorrow morning.'

  'Call the army? Are you crazy?' Gilly tried to see Girland's face in the dim light. 'Why should they bother with us? You must call the police!'

  'No... the U.S. Army,' Girland said. 'Because, my pet, you happen to be the daughter of the future President. When I tell them you have been kidnapped, the whole U.S. Army stationed in Germany, plus tanks and aircraft will come rushing to your rescue.'

  'No!' Gilly said fiercely. ‘I’ll never trade on my father's ro
tten reputation!'

  Girland sighed.

  'Are you sure?'

  'Yes... I'll never...'

  'All right... all right... don't get so worked up. You have made your point. So you don't want the U.S. Army to rescue you?'

  'No!'

  'A pity ... it could have been fun to have lots of tanks bashing down the gates and fat Generals rushing up the drive. All right, then here's what you do. Go downstairs and find the count. When you find him, tell him you won't accept your father's favours and would he please cut your throat'

  Gilly sat for some moments, speechless.

  'Oh, I hate you!' she exploded, thumping her fists on her knees. 'You are horrible . . . you don't understand!'

  'I'm afraid I do ... the trouble with you is you have grown up physically too fast and mentally too slow. We're wasting time. Are you sure you don't want the army to rescue you?'

  'I would rather die!'

  'You probably could. All right... fair enough. Girls with principles bore me. They're always a nuisance. Well then, I'll run along. You stay right here until they find you. I don't need the U.S. Army to get me out of here. Since you are stuck with your principles, I leave you with them. So long... thank for the bed session which was wonderful.'

  As he got to his feet, Gilly grabbed his arm.

  'You're not leaving me?'

  'Yes,.. reluctantly, but I am leaving you. I believe in looking after myself. Beautiful dumb girls with political ideas are always a hindrance. Give me ten minutes, then either sit tight or go down and talk to the count... who knows, he might just possibly marry you, but I suspect he will slit your pretty throat.'

  'How I hate you!' Gilly exploded. 'How can you think of leaving me?'

  'Don't get worked up, baby,' Girland said soothingly. 'It's your choice. There is another possible alternative.' He sat down again. 'You and I could make a deal. I could get you out of here without calling in the U.S. Army, but we would have to come to an agreement first'

  'What do you mean? What agreement?'

  'You would have to promise me to leave your father alone in the future. You would also have to promise me that you will give up running around with this half-baked Ban War organisation and you would have to promise me never ever again to make a stag film.'

  She drew in a long, quivering breath.

  'So you really are working for my father!'

  'No . . . I'm working for myself. I am a mercenary. I took your father's assignment for the money. I don't give a damn about him, but when I take an assignment, I deliver. You either give me your promise or I'm going to walk out on you. I can always take care of myself. Frankly, Gilly, I don't give a damn about you or your father. If you think you can take care of yourself and get to Paris and make more blue films, you go ahead and do it.'

  'This is blackmail,' Gilly said, suddenly calm.

  'So what? Is it against the rules to blackmail a blackmailer?' Girland asked. 'There is time... think it over... I'm going to admire the view.'

  He crossed the room, opened the french windows and moved silently out on to the balcony.

  The long searching finger of the searchlight was still probing the forest. He could see a group of men, wearing the count's livery, moving across the lawn towards the forest. He again heard the metallic voice of the count over the speakers repeating his warning that the walls were lethal.

  He remained out in the darkness watching the activity below, glad now there were no dogs. However, there were plenty of men and he made a rough count . . . possibly twenty-six or even thirty. It was difficult to count them as they kept disappearing and reappearing in the light of the searchlight. Finally, he decided he had given Gilly long enough to make a decision. If he didn't get her promise - he wondered what her promise was worth - he wouldn't leave her, but he hoped his bluff had made an impression. He stepped back into the dark room, closing the french windows behind him.

  'Well? Do we say good-bye?' he asked.

  He could just see her, sitting on the settee. She was looking towards him.

  'If I promise, what guarantee do I have that you will get me out of here?'

  'What guarantee have I that you will keep your promise?' Girland came and sat by her side.

  'When I make a promise, I keep it. All right... I'm a slut... I'm no good ... I have no morals . . . I'm an alley cat. . . but I do keep a promise.'

  Listening to her strained, fierce whispering, Girland was impressed.

  'If you don't keep this promise,' he said, 'then there is nothing in this world that can make any sense for you. You'd be better off dead.'

  'Oh, stop nagging!' Gilly said angrily. 'When I make a promise I keep it! How many more times do I have to tell you! But can you get me out of here alive?'

  'I can't swear to it, Gilly. Out there are some thirty-armed men. We have an electrified wall. We have an expert marksman armed with a sporting rifle who knows how to shoot fast. We have the count who won't let us go easily. A lot of odds .. . but I will try. Without you, I could get out, but with you, the operation slows down, and it will be much more difficult, but not impossible. I'll get you out of this if I possibly can. You haven't any alternative. Without me, you would never get out. With me you stand a good chance. If we fail... it won't matter about your promise. They have killed Rosnold... they have to kill us. It's as simple as that. You will have to do exactly what I tell you. You must try to keep your nerve. This isn't going to be easy ... but it is possible.'

  'All right. . . when you get me out of here, I will give you my promise and I will keep it.'

  'I'll accept that. Now let's do a little exploring. We have the night before us. Let's find a bed.'

  'You don't mean you can even think of sleeping?'

  'Why not? We have a long time ahead of us before we leave.'

  'Why can't we go tonight?'

  'I want those films. When I hand them over to your old man he is going to pay me ten thousand dollars. I need that money. So we stick around here until the films arrive. Then - and not before then - we'll leave.'

  'You're crazy!' Gilly's voice shot up a note. 'You'll never get them! They'll never let us walk out of here!'

  'Just relax, Gilly. You must have confidence in me. I'm not leaving here without those films. I've told you you have a good chance of getting out of here. Leave this to me. Now come on ... I want to find a bed.'

  Seeing the line of men coming towards the forest and towards where he was standing, Malik moved silently further into the undergrowth. Each advancing man was carrying a powerful flashlight as well as a shotgun and the beams of light stabbed into the darkness.

  This didn't worry Malik. He would never have ordered a search to be made in this forest in such darkness. To find any fugitive unless he betrayed his presence by noise was impossible in such surroundings.

  He looked up at the tree against which he was standing. He could just make out a lower branch within his reach. He stepped back, jumped and caught hold of the branch. Easily, he hauled himself up, and in a moment he was climbing the tree with the silent agility of a cat. He paused when he was halfway up the tree, straddled a branch and set his back against the trunk.

  He waited, looking down, seeing the stabbing beams of the advancing flashlights, hearing the crashing of undergrowth as the men moved forward into the forest. They passed below him and sent on. He lifted his shoulders in contempt.

  The search went on for an hour, then the leader of the party finally decided they were wasting time and energy. The men came back through the undergrowth. By now the time was 20.30 hrs and Malik, watching the men as they walked slowly across the lawn back to the Schloss, decided they were thinking of their dinner. He watched them disappear into a side entrance. A heavily built man, wearing the count's livery, walked up the steps to where two men were sitting, waiting.

  'Well?' Von Goltz snapped.

  'It is impossible and useless, Excellency,' the man said. He was Sandeuer, von Goltz's trusted major-domo: a man of some forty years of age wi
th a tanned, fleshy face and shifty, cunning eyes. 'We can't hope to find them in this darkness.

  ‘Tomorrow ... yes, but not now.'

  'Are you sure you will find them tomorrow?'

  Sandeuer bowed.

  'It will take a little time, Excellency, but they can't get away. Besides, by tomorrow, they will be hungry and thirsty.'

  Von Goltz waved him away. When he had gone, Silk finished his whisky and soda and regarded von Goltz.

  'You satisfied?'

  Von Goltz shrugged.

  'I have to be. They could be anywhere in the forest. Although my men know every centimetre of the ground, Sandeuer is right. In the darkness, it is impossible. When there is light, with the number of men I have, we will find them. Girland is unarmed. I had his clothes and his suitcase searched while he was in the pool. He has no weapons. So... it is a matter of time.'

  One of the footmen came out on to the terrace to announce that dinner was served.

  In the vast dining-hall, the two men sat down to a well-presented and cooked dinner. Von Goltz, who liked his food, noticed that Silk was merely toying with what was put before him, his thin, hatchet-shaped face expressionless, his one eye showing no animation.

  'Have some more of this sole,' von Goltz said. 'I think it is excellent.'

  'No ... I've had enough.' Silk pushed his plate away.

  'It doesn't please you?'

  Silk shrugged impatiently.

  'Fine... fine...' he snapped. 'I'm not hungry.'

  This remark irritated von Goltz who would have liked a second helping of the sole cooked with diced lobster tails and in a heavy cream sauce. Angrily, he motioned the footman to change courses.

  'You are worrying about something?' he asked, staring at Silk.

  'We will discuss it later,' Silk said as the second course of baby lamb was set on the table.

  Now it was von Goltz's turn to be worried. He had been warned by Radnitz about Girland. For the moment, Girland had slipped through his fingers. Girland was out in the open with some two hundred acres of forestland to hide in. Although von Goltz was sure Girland could not get out of the estate and he was not armed, he might take a long time to corner.