by W E Johns
‘Fair enough. My car will take you into London. Let us know where you’re staying.’
‘You want to see us again?’
‘That’s entirely up to you. I think you should see my chief if only to say thank you.’
‘If you wish it I will.’
‘Good. Incidentally, he may find a way of getting Fritz’s mother out of East Berlin to our side of the border. Obviously, things being as they are, Fritz would be crazy to go back to her. Her house will be watched for both of you. I’d hate to hear you’d been sent back to Sakhalin after all the bother I’ve had getting you out.’
‘You need have no fear of that,’ declared von Stalhein. ‘I mustn’t take up any more of your time, but before I go I must thank you for—’
Biggles brushed the thought aside. ‘Don’t speak of thanks. After all, my country and yours have buried the hatchet, I hope for good. We’ll see if we can do better as allies. I can’t say our trip to Sakhalin was exactly a pleasure, but for some time I’ve had an idea things might turn out this way. Good-bye for now.’ He held out a hand.
Von Stalhein took it. For a moment he looked Biggles squarely in the eyes. ‘It is a pity we didn’t reach this understanding earlier,’ he said quietly, and had turned to the others when the door opened and Air Commodore Raymond walked in.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said. ‘I got your signal to say you were on the way and hoped to be here when you arrived, but I had to fix things with customs and the immigration people and that took a little time. Did you have a good trip?’
‘Not too bad, sir,’ answered Biggles. ‘Anyhow, we’re all here.’
‘So I see.’ The Air Commodore turned to von Stalhein. ‘It’s some time since we met. I think you will find things less uncomfortable here than in Sakhalin. Here are your registration papers. Where are you going now?’
Von Stalhein hesitated.
‘He was just going off to look for digs, sir,’ explained Biggles.
‘I was hoping he’d join me for lunch.’ The Air Commodore smiled at von Stalhein, who was looking somewhat embarrassed by this offer of hospitality. ‘Does the idea appeal to you?’
‘Er — thank you. I am happy to accept.’
‘Capital. My car’s outside.’
As they walked to the door the Air Commodore threw a mysterious smile over his shoulder to Biggles. ‘I’ll see the rest of you later,’ he said, and followed von Stalhein out.
As the door closed behind him a curious silence fell on the room. It lasted for some seconds. Then it was Bertie who spoke.
‘Well, blow me down!’ he breathed. ‘Will wonders never end?’
‘Probably not,’ answered Biggles. ‘Life would be a dull business if they did. Let’s go over to the restaurant and tear a steak before we start the tidying up.’
THE END