I moved on. But now, I kept the torch beam dead in front of my feet. If this passageway did the round of the upper rooms in the Schloss, I didn’t want any of my torchlight shining through the ventilator of an unlighted room. That could have caused trouble if anyone were inside lying awake and counting sheep.
This secret passageway had clearly been put in when the Schloss was built. One way and another I had a fair picture of the kind of fun that had appealed to the past owners of the Schloss.
The next patch of light was round a corner and about thirty yards farther on. It was the same arrangement, a ventilator grille, double-sided, and through it I had my first really good look at Lottie Bemans.
It was a pleasant little boudoir type bedroom, all hanging drapes and frills around the dressing-table, and bows of ribbon worked into the lace curtains that hung from a baldacchino affair over a small four-poster bed.
Lottie Bemans was lying in bed, reading by the light of a small bedside lamp. She had her blonde hair piled up in a sort of Grecian fashion on top of her head and her shoulders and arms were bare except for the thin straps of a silk nightdress. She was a good looker, but her face was longer and, in repose, more serious and intelligent than Katerina’s. She was reading a magazine and smiling now and then to herself. It was a nice smile.
I moved on, hoping that I could find Katerina’s room. I tried to keep in mind the twists and turns of the passageway. As far as I could judge, I had dropped down from the higher level of my wing and was now moving along the inner side of the centre block, with the bedrooms which faced the front courtyard on my left. Both ventilator grilles had been on my left.
I moved forward slowly so as to make the least noise possible.
After another thirty odd paces, the passage turned, dropped four steps, and turned again. Ahead, there was a much bigger, hazier patch of light coming through low down and on my right hand.
It was an inset of ornamental grille work, about three feet long and two feet deep and I had to drop on one knee to look through it.
I was high up, right under the large glass dome which I had seen bulging up in the roof of the centre block. The glass was hung inside with an elaborate arrangement of purple lengths of silk. From hidden lights, a soft haze of blue light flooded down from the dome into a wide circular hallway whose floor was about a hundred feet below me.
The floor of the hall was covered with large black and white tiles. Most of the way around the sides of the hall ran a roofed-in cloistered walk, supported by marble pillars. From my view point I couldn’t see any windows lighting it and there was only one main door, a tall, elaborately carved wooden affair with great iron hinges and ornamental work. Standing with his back to the door, facing the centre of the hall, was a young man who seemed the exact counterpart of the one I had seen frying onions, except that he was dressed for duty. He was hat-less, blond, wore a black silk shirt buttoned tightly up at one side of the neck, the sleeves ballooning a little, black breeches, black, heavy, Army-type boots, and cradled across his arms was a sub-machine gun. He was standing with his legs slightly apart, in an attitude of complete alertness and there was no movement from him.
In the centre of the hallway, raised up on a three-stepped marble platform, was a sort of catafalque affair about ten feet long, three feet wide and about two feet high. The whole thing was draped in a great black velvet covering that fell from splendid golden, pineapple shaped knobs at each corner. Three figures stood facing the catafalque on my side of the hall.
They were Professor Vadarci, Siegfried and Madame Vadarci. The two men were in dinner jackets. Madame Vadarci wore a long black dress, that left her great arms bare, and a double rope of pearls cascaded from her neck over the generous curve of her bosom almost to her knees. In one hand she held a great black plumed fan, wide open, and on top of her red hair was a little coronet affair made of pearls. The three of them just stood there, their heads bowed a little, and as still as statues. They said nothing, they did nothing but just stand there, and they stood there for a good five minutes.
Then suddenly a little silver-toned bell rang gently somewhere and they moved to the great door. The guard came to life, stepped aside, and swung half of the door open. They went out and the guard followed them. The door closed and I had the place to myself. My eyes popped again as below me the great catafalque began slowly to sink into the ground. It went down as though on a lift. When it was below the level of the marble dais, a sheet of black marble slid noiselessly across the hole, and no one would have suspected that there was anything below it. Coinciding with the movement of the marble slab back into place, all the lights went out. Somewhere there was a good stage manager who knew his stuff.
I found Katerina early the next morning. Her room was on the left, just before the turn and steps down to the length of passageway which held the ornamental grille above the hall.
On the way to it I passed five or six ventilators that gave on to empty rooms. It was much easier going with the daylight let into the passageway from them.
I picked out Katerina’s room – which was much like Lottie’s – because I could hear her singing to herself. The sound was coming through a half-open door on the far side of the bedroom, from the noise of running water clearly a bathroom.
She came out after a few seconds, wearing a loose green silk dressing-gown. She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to roll on a pair of stockings. Watching her in those few seconds, I knew that there was nothing I wanted from the world except her....
I swallowed the lump in my throat and rapped gently on the ventilator grille. She looked up. I rapped again and called quietly, “Katerina....”
She looked towards the bedroom door and then back at the grille. I had to admire the coolness and the quick thinking. There wasn’t a loose or sloppy reaction in her. She’d recognized my voice just from the one word.
I said gently, “Katerina.... Over here.”
She got up from the bed and went to the door and locked it. You’d have thought that voices coming from ventilators were part of her daily routine.
She came back and stood where I could see her. As she looked up she was smiling, violet eyes wide, a delicious wrinkle line below the soft curve of her blonde hair.
“Darling.... Are you a ghost?”
I said, “If I could get in there you’d know I wasn’t.”
She shook her head. “You are mad to be in this place.”
“Okay, but I’m here.”
She put her finger tips to her lips and blew me a kiss. “Darling, I love you. You do such crazy things for me. Why?”
“I’ll show you later. Listen to me now and—”
“Oh!” She put her hand to her mouth suddenly. “You watch me for long? You have seen me go to the bathroom without clothes?”
“Unfortunately, no. Now listen. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“But why? I like it here.”
“That’s because you don’t know what’s lined up for you or Lottie Bemans. One of you is going to be murdered.”
“Murdered!”
I had her serious and listening then. Keeping my voice down I explained about the apartment and the key that was on the outside of the door. She had to get up there so that we could make our plans for a get-away.
“Don’t say anything to Lottie yet. Do you think you can find the apartment?”
“I think so. I’ll try.” Her voice was shaky.
“Tonight. The moment it’s dark.”
She nodded, and then said, “You are sure about this? About this bad thing?”
“Absolutely and—”
I broke off as there came a couple of knocks on her door.
“Katerina!” It was a girl’s voice.
Katerina looked up and motioned me to go. She blew another kiss.
The voice outside the door called, “Katerina.... Schläfst du?”
Katerina moved towards the door. As I drew back, I heard her call, “Nein, ich schlafe nicht, Lottie. Ich k
omme.”
I had enough German to cover that lot, and Lottie calling again, “Das Frühstück ist fertig.”
I went back to my own Frühstück: pigeons’ eggs, and the last slice of my sausage. Katerina would make it. Between us we would work something out.
That day passed like water wearing away a stone, so slowly that the tension built up in me until I felt like some caged animal. I walked round and round the place, unable to settle for more than a few minutes at a time.
And then, at three o’clock that afternoon, I saw Howard Johnson and Herr Stebelson. I was on the roof with my field-glasses, taking a cautious look around the property. I swung the glasses across the far hillside in the direction of the main gate. There was a movement across an open space high up on the mountain.
Two men had just come out of a line of trees and were climbing, their backs to me. I held them in the glasses. They paused in the middle of the open space and turned, looking back at the Schloss. There was no mistaking Herr Stebelson, and then Howard Johnson turned full face into my field of vision. I slipped behind the edge of the tower wall and watched them through a gap in the parapet. It was a good thing I went into hiding for they both took out field-glasses and sat down, watching the Schloss. They stayed there for about half an hour and then they moved down and back into the trees and I lost sight of them.
Keeping in cover I went to the tower door and below. It was an interesting combination – Stebelson and Howard Johnson. It seemed likely that Stebelson, knowing now that he was not going to get any co-operation from Katerina, was selling out his Zafersee information to Frau Spiegel’s group. It looked, too, as though he’d tumbled to the helicopter radius from the lake ... and the Lord knew what other information he had ... probably plenty. I hoped that he had had the good sense to insist on payment before he had handed over his goods.
Time, after that, dribbled away. Darkness came and I had some food. I smoked, had a drink, and I kept away from the erotic books. I sat with the door open into the little hallway so that I should hear her at the door.
She came at half-past ten. I heard the key turning in the lock and I was in the hallway as the door opened and she slipped in. She turned to me, held up a warning hand in silence, and put the key into the lock and carefully twisted it home. Then she turned right round and held out her arms.
It was like the burst of a great rocket filling the darkness of the sky with a sudden chrysanthemum blaze of light. Blonde hair, misty violet eyes, a simple little yellow frock and gold slippers, and her brown, bare arms reaching for me. I took her into my arms, kissed her, and held her. Then we were sitting together on the settee in the main room. I had her hands in mine and she was rubbing her cheek against the side of my neck, saying silly little things in German to me which I didn’t need to have translated. Her lips moved to mine and it took me ages before I could force myself to come to the most important item on the agenda.
I got up and went and fixed a couple of brandies. I handed her one.
“Now listen,” I said. “We’re all in big trouble here and we’ve got to get out. You, Lottie and me.”
“But why?”
“Never mind the whys for a moment. How is the only thing. So I want straight answers – and quickly. Just how closely are you watched or guarded?”
She sipped her drink, gave a little frown and said, “Too closely. Some parts of the house we cannot go. At night we sleep on the third floor and are locked in until morning.”
“How did you get up here?”
“We can go up, to the higher floors. But not down. I have a terrible time finding this place.”
“Why can’t you go down?”
“There’s a door at the top of the main stairway. The man Hesseltod has the key. He sleeps in a room by the door and unlocks it in the morning.”
“Are you friendly with him?”
“We chat sometimes at night when we come up. Sometimes he asks Lottie and me to have a drink. He’s nice. But why do you ask all this?”
“Never mind for the moment. I’ll come to that. Could you slip something into his drink if I gave it to you? So that we could get his key?”
“Yes ... yes, I think so. But not tonight. He sleeps already. Tomorrow night, yes.”
I didn’t like that. It meant passing another day in the place. But I had no choice.
“Darling, why you frown?”
“Because I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow night. However....” I went over and sat down by her.
She put a hand on mine and said, “I don’t understand all this. Why is it so dangerous for me and Lottie? We are not allowed to do some things – but we have been told that it will all be explained. That it is a good thing for us in the end.”
As she spoke I was thinking, another day, a whole day, for things to go wrong. But there was no other way. We couldn’t go down now, wake Lottie, explain things to her, and risk getting the key from Hesseltod as he slept....
I said, “Okay. Then it’s got to be tomorrow.”
Katerina said, “You don’t answer my questions. Why do we have to go?”
I said, “There are a lot of questions and a lot of answers to come. It looks as though we’ve got time on our hands so why don’t we start at the beginning.”
“That’s what I want. How can Lottie or I be in danger?”
I said, “Let’s leave that for a moment. And get this—” I put my hands on her shoulders and looked straight at her. “I want the truth from you. And don’t pretend I’ve always had it in the past, because I haven’t. Promise?”
She leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips, and then said, “I promise.”
“First of all. What was the exact set-up between you and Stebelson? He’s admitted that there was one, but that you’ve now gone back on it.”
She was silent for a moment studying me. Then she said, “All right, I’ll tell you. Stebelson works for Herr Malacod. You know this. Well, Malacod is interested in Madame Vadarci. Madame Vadarci is looking for girls, my age, blonde like me, strong, healthy, good at sports and intelligent. Also, they must be absolutely purest German blood, back for many generations. You know this is not so easy to find. Particularly, too, when the girls must be beautiful. I am beautiful, yes?”
“Yes. But get on with it.”
She did. Malacod and Stebelson knew what Madame Vadarci was after. Stebelson had suggested to Malacod that he find a girl, that he fake her antecedents, birth, parentage and so on, and then bring her to the notice of Madame Vadarci without her knowing anything about him or Malacod.
“There is a man in Cologne, a friend of Stebelson, who worked on genealogical research for Madame Vadarci. Stebelson paid him money, he fixed papers for me, and then gave my name to Madame Vadarci – she came to England to find me in Brighton.”
“You were a decoy?”
“Yes.”
“And then they roped me in on the same tag – because they wanted someone to follow you and find out what Madame Vadarci was up to and where she was going?”
“Yes.”
“And Lottie Bemans?”
“The same thing – only she is chosen before me without any faking.”
“Aren’t you German?”
“Of course – but my parents are dead. Nobody knows about them. So Stebelson and this man make up a whole family history for me.”
“So you and Stebelson had an arrangement that if during all this something came up that might offer a quick profit – then you’d double-cross Malacod.”
“In a way.”
“But you’ve gone back on that. Why?”
“Because perhaps he wants to marry me.”
“He?”
“That way I get better things than ever Stebelson can arrange.”
“He,” I said firmly. “Who is he?”
“Alois ... the one here, the one you saw in Venice.”
“What’s his other name?”
“Vadarci – he was adopted by them.”
�
�But you must know why Lottie’s here. He’s going to choose between the two of you. He might choose Lottie.”
“Perhaps – but perhaps it will be me. So, I finish with Stebelson.”
“And what’s behind all this? Bringing you and Lottie here secretly? And this big case, the lead affair – I saw it go into the helicopter at the Villa Sabbioni and you went with it. You must know about that.”
“No. Truly. They promise we shall know soon. But they swear us to secrecy, Lottie and me. Both of us will get many good things.”
“One of you might. Whichever is chosen. The other, no matter what she’s sworn or what she expects, is going to be killed, dropped in a lake and never seen again. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’ve got to get both of you away fast!”
“Oh, no!” She was really shaken.
“Oh, yes. You’ve both got to get out of this place. There’s no profit here for anyone, you, me, Stebelson, or anyone. There’s something, too big for you or me to handle, cooking here. What about all these guards?”
“All this we are promised to have explained.”
“And you’ve accepted all this?”
“Why not? They are good to us. Maybe something nice comes from it.”
I looked at her hard then. She had promised me the truth. I seemed to be getting it. But how could I know with a girl who was so sure of herself, so much herself, her own mistress, that you could never tell what was going on inside her beautiful blonde head?
I said, “What does Lottie think about all this?”
“Sometimes she says she is frightened.”
“But you aren’t?”
“No.”
“I wonder. You chucked Stebelson. You did that from Venice. But you kept me coming along. Why – if you thought you might end up marrying this Alois?”
The Whip Hand Page 20