Whiff of Money

Six

It was after midnight when Girland returned to his hotel bedroom. It had been a good evening. The meal had been a little heavy, but excellent, and the restaurant, gay and amusing. Both Gillian and Rosnold had been good companions.

If it hadn’t been for Dorey and his dreary assignment, Girland thought as he undressed, he would have thoroughly enjoyed the hours he had spent with these two, but mindful that he had to earn Sherman’s ten thousand dollars, he tried to switch his mind to the best approach to get the three films from Gillian.

But full of good food and German wine, he couldn’t be bothered, and decided to concentrate on the problem in the morning. Tomorrow, the three of them would be at the count’s castle. There would certainly come an opportunity to talk to Gillian during their five days stay.

Taking a shower, and then getting into bed, he reached for a cigarette and lit it. Gillian had made an impression on him.

She was beautiful, gay, amusing and sensual. He found it hard to believe she had taken part in the film he had seen.

Thinking about her, Girland came to the conclusion that he dug for her.

Rosnold had also been amusing. Girland always kept an open mind about people. If this man made money by shooting pornographic films, this was no affair of his, Girland told himself. What he did for a living didn’t matter. This was Girland’s philosophy. It was the people themselves that were important, not what they did.

While he was finishing his cigarette and thinking he would now sleep, the telephone bell at his side buzzed, startling him.

He picked up the receiver. ‘Yes’

‘It’s me.’

He recognised Gillian’s husky voice and immediately he became alert.

‘Hello… what do you want?’

‘I’m lonely.’

‘Funny thing… I seem to be lonely too.’

‘Shall we be lonely together?’

‘Then we wouldn’t be lonely, would we? Two people together can’t be lonely, can they?’

‘Some can.’

There was a long pause while Girland stared up at the ceiling, trying to make up his mind if this was a good or a bad move.

I am in Room 462. It’s at the end of your corridor,’ Gilly told him.

‘Do you like it at the end of the corridor?’

Gilly giggled.

‘This is an invitation, stupid, not a geography lesson.’

Girland decided this invitation was unwise. Gilly was Rosnold’s property. He didn’t believe in poaching.

‘It’s too far,’ he said firmly. ‘Go to sleep,’ and he replaced the receiver.

He stubbed out his cigarette and relaxed back in bed. He didn’t have to wait long. The door eased open and Gilly slid into his room, closing the door softly after her.

She had on a white robe to cover a shortie nightdress. Her slippers were pale-blue. She looked very attractive as she regarded him.

‘Hello there,’ Girland said, smiling at her. ‘As lonely as all that?’

She came to the end of the bed and glared at him.

‘You are a pig!’ she exclaimed. ‘When you had my invitation, you should have come to me!’

‘I told you to go to sleep,’ Girland reminded her. ‘But since you don’t want to sleep, and since I don’t want to sleep, you’d better get in here before you catch cold.’

He flicked aside the blanket and sheet and shifted over to m<,ke room for her.

‘If you imagine I intend to sleep with you now, you are making a great mistake. I came just to tell you that I think you’re a pig!’

Girland flicked the blanket and sheet back into place.

‘That has now been recorded… I am a pig. Good night,’ and he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. The room was plunged into darkness.

‘Put that light on!’ Gilly said sharply. ‘How can I find my way out?’

‘Fall over the furniture. I want to go to sleep,’ Girland said out of the darkness. ‘Good night… I’ll see you in the morning.’

She groped her way around the bed as Girland, grinning in the darkness, once more flicked back the blanket and sheet.

There was a pause, then he heard the rustle of her clothes as they dropped to the floor.

‘I hate you,’ Gilly said, ‘but now I’m here, I will stay.’

‘I thought you might. It’s a drag to walk all that way down that long corridor.’ Girland reached out, his hands sliding around her naked back, pulling her down on him.

He lay still with her resting on him. She began to unbutton his pyjama jacket. His hands moved down her back and clasped her firm buttocks. She gave a long ecstatic sigh and her mouth found his.

During his chequered career, Girland had known many women. The act of love to him was always a unique experience.

Sometimes he was disappointed, sometimes he was satisfied, but this experience with Gilly was something he hadn’t experienced before.

Later, they rested side by side, both breathless. Girland couldn’t remember a more exciting and exhausting episode.

The moonlight came through the chinks in the shutters, making a pattern on the carpet. The sound of fast-moving cars came and went. Faintly he could hear swing music from the cafe opposite.

Gilly touched his chest. She sighed.

‘I knew you had to be good, but I didn’t imagine you could be that good.’

‘ Sleep,’ Girland said. ‘No post mortems.’

She curled up against him, one long leg across his legs, her face close to his, her warm, scented breath fanning his neck.

They slept.

The sunlight coming through the shutters brought Girland awake. He screwed up his eyes and then opened them as he yawned. Gilly lay by his side, beautiful in her abandoned nakedness. She breathed gently, her shell-pink nipples bathed in a streak of sunlight.

Girland put his hand lightly on the apex of her thighs. She murmured something and turning to him, her eyes still closed, she slid her arms around him.

This drowsy passion was less violent than before but more gentle and more satisfying. Once she cried out, her body stiffening, but then she became relaxed again, her breath quick and irregular. Again they slept.

Later still, Girland woke, raised his head and looked at his strap watch. The time was twenty minutes after nine. He prodded Gilly gently.

‘Time you went to your room,’ he said. ‘It’s long after nine.’

‘Who cares?’ Gilly said drowsily, stretching her lovely body. ‘Kiss me.’

But Girland was alive to the risk. He had no idea what time Rosnold got up. He didn’t want Rosnold to find Gilly’s bedroom empty. He slid out of bed and went into the bathroom. Before turning on the shower, he called. ‘Oh your way.

I’ll see you downstairs in an hour.’

When he had shaved and showered, he returned to the bedroom to find she had gone. He felt relaxed and fine. He ordered toast, marmalade and coffee and then dressed. He threw open the french windows and stood, breathing in the sharp May air, watching the movement of the people on the street below.

At the modest hotel opposite the Alpenhoff, Malik left his room, walked down the corridor to Labrey’s room. He tapped and entered.

Vi, wearing bra and panties was making up her face before the small mirror. Labrey was putting on his shoes.

‘Just bust in!’ Vi said angrily, snatching up her wrap and struggling into it. ‘Haven’t you any manners?’

Malik ignored her. He tossed her passport on the bed, then he signed to Labrey to follow him. Out in the passage, Malik said, ‘Ihave no further work for you two for the moment. You are to return to Paris.’ He took from a worn wallet several 100 DM bills and handed them to Labrey. ‘I am satisfied with your work. Lintz and I can now handle it. You are to report to Kovski. Tell him I am still following Girland. Tell him nothing else. Do you understand?’

Labrey nodded. He was relieved he could take Vi back to Paris. He had had a hell of a night with her.

‘And she?’ Labrey asked.

‘Tell her she will work for us in the future. Give her some of that money. There is plenty for both of you,’ Malik said. I thought I might use her here, but she is now no longer necessary. Get off quickly.’

He left Labrey and went downstairs and joined Lintz who was sitting at a table outside the hotel.

‘You’ve checked us out?’ Malik asked as he sat down.

‘Yes… we’re all ready to go.’

‘I’ve got rid of those two upstairs,’ Malik said. ‘They have served their purpose. Now, they will only be in the way.’

‘So what do we do now?’ Lintz asked.

‘The three of them will be going to the Obermitten Schloss some time this morning,’ Malik said, lighting a cigarette. ‘We follow them there. This is rather like a jigsaw puzzle, but now, the pieces are falling into place. I know now that this girl, Gillian Sherman is the daughter of the future President of the United States and that they are estranged. She is living with Pierre Rosnold, the man she is travelling with. He specialises in pornographic films. The girl is without morals and we can assume she has made a pornographic film. We know Sherman had a movie projector with him which he gave to Dorey who passed it on to Girland. I think it is obvious the girl is blackmailing her father. Now Radnitz’s nephew appears on the scene. We know Radnitz and Sherman have a bargain. Radnitz will get a big contract from Sherman if Sherman becomes President. It would be in Radnitz’s interest to stop the girl blackmailing her father. The girl, Rosnold and Girland have been invited to Radnitz’s Schloss… why? Knowing Radnitz, they are going there to get their throats cut.’

‘Do we care?’ Lintz asked, looking at Malik.

‘Yes. For reasons I will not discuss with you, we care,’ Malik said quietly.

Half an hour later, while the two men still sat watching the movement of the crowd as it passed along the narrow sidewalk, Labrey and Vi came from the hotel. Labrey was carrying a suitcase. He paused at Malik’s side.

‘We’re on our way,’ he said. ‘If there is anything else… ?’

Malik shook his head.

‘No… you have been useful… get off.’

Vi stood away from Malik. She could scarcely believe she was leaving this silver-haired giant who so terrified her.

With Labrey, she began to walk towards the railway station.

‘Pretty girl,’ Lintz said, eyeing Vi’s legs as she moved quickly along the street.

‘A whore,’ Malik said indifferently, ‘but she will be useful.’

‘Yes.’ Lintz laughed, then seeing Malik was blank-faced and his eyes brooding, he cut off his laugh and remained silent.

A few minutes to mid-day, a black Mercedes turned into the Alpenhoff Hotel’s driveway and pulled up outside the entrance. A short, thick-set man, wearing a green livery of cloth and leather, went into the hotel.

Malik became alert.

A few minutes later, the man came out followed by Gillian, Girland and Rosnold. Two porters carried their bags.

‘They are on their way,’ Malik said. ‘Get our bags.’

Lintz went into the hotel.

The short, thick-set man in the green livery was talking to Girland.

‘If you will follow me in your car sir, I will take you to the Schloss,’ he was saying. ‘It’s about an hour’s drive.’

Gilly said to Rosnold, T want to drive in the Merc. You follow us… okay?’

‘No!’ Rosnold said curtly. ‘You are driving with me!’

Overhearing this exchange, Girland went to his hired Mercedes and got in. Without waiting to see if Gilly was winning her argument, he started the engine and followed the black Mercedes out into the main street.

Seeing him leave, Gilly grimaced and shrugged. She climbed into theT.R.4.

Rosnold said, ‘Are you falling for that fellow?’

Gilly eyed him, then shook her head.

‘If I’m going to fall for anyone, I’ll fall for the count… he has the money.’

Rosnold got in the car and started the engine. ‘I could get tired of you if you can’t keep away from other men.’ Gilly made a face at him. ‘Would that be such a disaster?’

Rosnold scowled at her, then drove out into the main street and headed after Girland.

Count Hans von Goltz sat in a high-backed leather chair, facing Lu Silk who sat on a leather-covered settee. The two men were in the baronial hall of the Obermitten Schloss: a vast room with wooden beams supporting the arched ceiling.

The big picture window looked out onto the magnificent park with its close-cut lawns and gnarled trees. Beyond the set garden was the forest.

Count Hans von Goltz was Herman Radnitz’s nephew.

Had it not been for Radnitz, von Goltz would now be serving a life sentence for murder and rape. When he was sixteen years of age and living with his parents on their estate near the Saxon Forest, east of Hamburg, he had come across an Austrian girl student on a hiking vacation. She had strayed onto the von Goltz land and she had asked him the way to the main highway to Hamburg. They were completely alone together, and von Goltz had made advances which were repulsed. Von Goltz was used to having his way. There was a struggle, and after the brutal rape, he had strangled the girl. Leaving her body half-concealed in the bracken he had returned home. He told his father what he had done. One of the gamekeepers who hated von Goltz had heard the girl’s screams. He had arrived on the scene a few minutes after von Goltz had left. He had found von Goltz’s watch by the body. It had been torn from von Goltz’s wrist in the struggle.

It so happened that Herman Radnitz was staying at the Schloss, spending a few days with his sister, von Goltz’s mother.

Von Goltz’s father, horrified at what his son had told him, went to Radnitz. Radnitz advised that they should do nothing.

The girl’s body would be discovered sooner or late. Both he and the parents would say von Goltz had been with them all during the afternoon.

But they were reckoning without the gamekeeper who raised the alarm. The police arrived and the gamekeeper gave them von Goltz’s watch. Although the parents and Radnitz confirmed the boy hadn’t left the Schloss during the afternoon, he was arrested. His hands were badly scratched. White and trembling he had told the police he had been teasing one of the farm cats, but this explanation was not accepted.

Radnitz then talked to the gamekeeper. For an agreed sum of money, the gamekeeper told the police that he disliked young von Goltz and had fabricated the story about finding the watch by the glirl’s body. In fact, he had found the watch in another part of the estate and had intended to keep it. Radnitz then talked to the Chief of Police who had political ambitions. It was easy for Radnitz to arrange something advantageous and in return the Chief of Police dropped the murder charges. It had been a narrow escape and young von Goltz was grateful. A year later the von Goltz estate was wiped out by bombing and von Goltz’s parents killed. He had served in the German army and when he was released Radnitz sent for him. He offered him the stewardship of Radnitz’s rich estate in Bavaria. He would receive an adequate income. He would handle the estate and generally put himself at Radnitz’s disposal. Von Goltz jumped at this offer and for the past twenty-five years, he had acted as major-domo to one of the finest private estates in Germany. There were times when Radnitz would visit the estate, look around, satisfy himself that his nephew was doing a good job, have some hunting and then go away. There were times when von Goltz received an abrupt order to visit East Berlin where he met shabby men who handed him packages or letters which he delivered to Radnitz. Once he was ordered to go to Peking where he collected another mysterious package, but these courier jobs didn’t often happen. Von Goltz was quite content to do what his uncle told him without question so long as he could remain at the Schloss to hunt, entertain his friends, have women who came from all parts of Europe for a short visit and indulge in his dream fantasy that this splendid Schloss and estate belong to him.

The previous day, he had received written instructions from Radnitz, and for the first time since he had become Radnitz’s steward, he had orders that made him flinch.

‘It is necessary,’ Radnitz wrote, ‘to get these three films from this girl. You may use any method you may think fit, but she must be persuaded to give them to you. I am sending Lu Silk who will take care of the girl. You need have nothing to do with her disposal. Silk is a professional and is well paid and extremely efficient. But your job is to get the films.Until you have them, Silk is not to proceed with the next move.’

‘I’ve made it easy for you,’ von Goltz said as he sipped his champagne. ‘They will be arriving shortly. Once they are here, they won’t be allowed to leave. I will get the films from the girl, then I will leave you to get rid of them all.’

Silk nodded.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll keep out of sight until you get the films.’ He thought for a long moment, then went on, ‘They’ll be traced here. You realise that? The hotel will know they are coming. They just can’t vanish into space.’

Von Goltz shrugged.

‘That’s your affair. My affair is to get the films.’

Silk smiled.

‘It will be a mental exercise that will amuse me.’ He got to his feet. ‘I will keep out of sight. Be careful of Girland. The other two are harmless, but Girland is dangerous.’

‘My uncle has warned me.’

Silk left the room. He walked slowly up the broad staircase to the second floor. A long walk down a corridor lined on either side by medieval battle weapons brought him to his suite which consisted of a bedroom and a vast sitting-room.

He let himself into the suite, locked the door, then crossed to the window which overlooked the lower terrace and the main entrance. He sat down, lit a cigarette and stared blankly down the long, winding drive while he waited for the three to arrive.

The entrance to the Obermitten Schloss was imposing. The flint and stone walls surrounding the estate were twenty feet high with cruel-looking steel barbs mounted along lie top of the wall. The tall wrought iron gates swung open as the black Mercedes slowed and then drove through. Girland followed. His sharp eyes noticed that on both gates was a heraldic shield ofblack metal. Inscribed in glittering gold leaf were the initials H.R. This puzzled him. H.R.? he wondered. Why not H v G? As he followed the black Mercedes along the winding drive, bordered on either side by dense larch trees, he began to feel a little uneasy. He couldn’t explain this uneasiness to himself, but the darkness of the overhanging trees, shutting out the sunlight and the barbed walls gave him a sudden feeling that he was driving into a trap. He told himself this was nonsense, but the feeling persisted.

He looked into his driving mirror and saw the T.R.4 was following behind. He drove after the black Mercedes for at least five kilometres, then suddenly the gloomy forest was gone and wide, immaculate lawns with ornamental fountains gushing water, banks of daffodils

and tulips made a splendid scene against a backdrop of clear blue sky and lazily floating white clouds. Against this scene was the Schloss: an imposing, magnificent building with turrets, terraces ornamented with marble statues and an arched entrance through which two trucks could have easily driven side by side.

Gilly scrambled out of the T.R.4 and joined Girland as he got out of his car.

‘Just look at this!’ she exclaimed breathlessly. ‘It’s the biggest and most perfect place I’ve ever seen!’

Rosnold joined them. He stood staring up at the building, shaking his head in wonderment.

The huge double wooden doors swung open and von Goltz came out onto the terrace. He waved to them, signalling to them to come up the three flights of marble steps that led to the main terrace.

‘Welcome,’ he said, smiling.

While two liveried servants appeared to take their bags, the three walked up the steps and joined von Goltz.

‘What a dreamy place!’ Gilly said excitedly. ‘Do you really mean you live here all alone? There must be at least fifty rooms…’

Von Goltz laughed. He was obviously pleased by her excitement.

‘To be exact there are a hundred and fifty-five rooms,’ he told her. ‘It’s absurd, of course… an anachronism, but I love the place. I have lived here for twenty-five years. I couldn’t bear to leave it.’

Girland was looking at the terrace furniture. On each wrought iron chair was a tiny shield each bearing the initials H.R.

He glanced at von Goltz who was leading Gilly and Rosnold towards the entrance to the Schloss. He followed behind.

‘Fritz will show you to your rooms,’ von Goltz said, waving to a short, fat man in livery. ‘You will wish to tidy up.

Suppose we say lunch in half an hour?’ he paused, then went on, ‘I have put you all close together on the first floor.’ He laughed. ‘It is easy to get lost in this place.’

Twenty minutes later, Gilly came into Girland’s enormous bedroom with its four-poster bed and its splendid view of the park and distant forest.

She was wearing a simple white dress and around her suntanned throat was a necklace of large blue beads.

‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ she said, joining him at the open window. ‘Look at that bed… it’s made for love!’

Girland laughed.

‘The one-track mind. Any bed is made for love… it depends on who occupies it.’

I’m right next door.’ She lowered her voice as she continued, Til visit you tonight.’

Girland lifted his eyebrows.

‘I don’t remember inviting you.’

She laughed.

‘You don’t fool me, Casanova. You know you want me. You want me now… anyway, I’m coming tonight.’

‘You have something there.’ Girland studied her. She was very desirable. ‘Where’s Rosnold?’

‘In his room. Let’s go down. I’m starving.’

They moved across the room together. At the door, Gilly paused, looked steadily at Girland, then said, ‘Kiss me.’

As Girland took her in his arms, there came a tap on the door. They moved quickly apart, then Girland opened the door.

Rosnold was standing in the corridor. He regarded Girland with a long, probing stare.

I was wondering where you had got to,’ he said, shifting his stare to Gilly.

‘Well, here we are. I was investigating his room… look at it! It’s marvellous, isn’t it?’ Gilly said innocently.

Rosnold glanced into the room and nodded.

‘The whole place is fantastic. What it must cost to run*!’

There was a gentle cough behind them and turning, they saw Fritz standing behind them.

‘Lunch is served if you please,’ he said. ‘Will you come this way?’

The lunch was impeccable, served in an enormous high-ceilinged room that could cater for two hundred people. There were footmen in green and gold livery standing behind each chair. The meal began with white caviar, served with chilled vodka, followed by breasts of wild duck in a wine sauce with a 1949 Ausone claret. The dessert, served, with a golden sauterne, was hot-house strawberries in a champagne sorbet.

During the meal, von Goltz chatted pleasantly, concentrating his attention on Gilly, but also including Girland and Rosnold.

Girland noticed the table silver all carried the initials H.R. and this again puzzled him.

As they moved from the big dining-hall into the lounge for coffee, Girland asked, ‘Who is H.R.?’

Von Goltz looked sharply at him, then smiled.

‘You noticed the initials? This place doesn’t actually belong to me but to my uncle.’

‘A perfect meal, Count,’ Rosnold said as he sank into an armchair. ‘I congratulate you. Your chef reaches the standards of my country and that is praise indeed.’

‘He is French,’ von Goltz said.

He sat on a satin-covered settee by Gilly’s side. There was a pause while a footman served coffee and cognac.

When the footman had gone, von Goltz looked directly at Girland.

‘You were curious about my uncle. I believe you have met him.’

Girland lit a cigarette. There was now an expression on von Goltz’s face that he didn’t like. Although he remained relaxed, he became mentally very alert.

‘Havel?’

‘Yes. He is Herman Radnitz.’

Girland’s smile remained polite and easy. So they had walked into a trap, he thought as he said, Of course. Once we did some business together. How is he?’

‘Very well.’

‘Will he be visiting you while we are here?’

‘No.’ Von Goltz crossed one leg over the other. He sipped his coffee, staring thoughtfully at Girland. ‘I don’t think we need waste any further time, Mr Girland. You realise now that you have walked into a trap?’

Girland put down his coffee cup and picked up his brandy glass.

‘If Radnitz is behind your invitation, anything could happen,’ he said lightly.

Gilly was listening to this, her expression bewildered.

‘Can we share the joke, please?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Of course,’ Girland said, stretching out his long legs. ‘The count’s uncle is one of the richest and most evil men in the world. Had he not been so rich, he would be safely locked up in jail. His real name is Heinrich Kunzli. He made his fortune by supplying the Nazis and the Japs with soap, fertilisers and gunpowder. That seems harmless enough, doesn’t it? But the Nazis and the Japs agreed to supply the raw materials for these products. The raw materials were the bones, fat and teeth of the murdered millions from concentration camps. The count’s nice uncle laid the foundation of his enormous fortune by turning into money the end-products of the dead bodies of Jews and other victims of the last war.’ Girland smiled at von Goltz. ‘That is correct, isn’t it, Count?

Von Goltz showed his teeth in a mirthless grin.

‘Yes… near enough, but it is old history now.’ He regarded Girland, his eyes glittering. ‘You are an interfering, useless man, Girland. This time you will cease to interfere.’

Girland sipped his brandy and nodded his approval.

‘I’ve heard all that before… I can’t say it ages me.’

Gilly exclaimed, ‘For God’s sake… just what is this?’

‘Let me explane,’ von Goltz said quietly. ‘You are blackmailing your father. You have three films which you are threatening to send to his opposition party unless he withdraws from the election. I want these films.’ He stared at her, his eyes suddenly cold. ‘I intend to have them.’

Gilly started to her feet. Blood rushed to her face and then drained away. Her eyes sparkled with anger.

‘You’re not getting them!’ she cried. ‘Pierre! Let’s get out of here! Come on… don’t sit there like a dummy! Let’s go!’

Rosnold was studying von Goltz who toyed with his brandy glass, relaxed and smiling. His smile sent a chill up Rosnold’s spine. He looked at Gilly.

‘Sit down and shut up!’ he said sharply. ‘Can’t you see, you fool, we’re caught!’

‘Caught? He can’t stop us… I’m going if you’re not!’ Gilly rushed across the room, jerked open the door and dashed into the vast hall. She ran to the high entrance doors which she found locked. She tugged at the bolts while six, heavily-built men in the count’s livery watched her with mask-like faces. The bolts were immovable and with a cry of rage, she spun around, rushed back into the lounge, darted past the three men who watched her and dashed out onto the terrace.

Below, on the driveway, was the scarlet T.R.4. With a gasp of relief, she started across the terrace to run down the three long flights of marble steps. Then she stopped short. Two huge black alsatian dogs stood at the bottom of the steps and snarled at her. Their white fangs sent a cold shudder of fear through her. She stared down at the dogs, hypnotised with horror. Crouching low and still snarling, the dogs began to climb slowly up the steps towards her. Gilly’s nerve broke.

Whirling around, she ran back into the lounge.

‘Those dogs…’ she began breathlessly then stopped as von Goltz laughed.

‘Why don’t you sit down?’ he asked. ‘You can’t get away. Yes… those dogs… they will tear you to pieces if you are stupid enough to challenge them. Where are the films?’

Gilly faced him, white and scared, but her eyes still flashed with rage.

‘You’re not getting them!’ She turned to Rosnold. ‘Do something! Tell him… don’t just sit there! Do something!’

‘I warned you.’ Rosnold was pale and uneasy. ‘I’m not going though with this. I’ve had enough of it.’

Girland listened to all this. For a moment he was forgotten. The action now was between Gilly and Rosnold with von Goltz as an interested spectator.

‘He’s not having them!’ Gilly cried, beating her fists together. ‘He can’t force us to give them to him! He can’t!’

‘But you are mistaken,’ von Goltz said, his voice sounded bored. ‘When I want something, I always get it. Do you want me to give you a demonstration of my persuasive powers?’

‘Go to hell!’ Gilly shouted at him, her eyes flashing. ‘You’re not having those films! If you don’t let us leave I’ll — I’ll call the police.’

Von Goltz regarded her as he would regard a difficult child.

‘You are still very young and still very stupid. How do you call the police?’

Gilly turned desperately to Girland.

‘Aren’t you going to do something?’ she demanded, going to him and standing over him. ‘Do you call yourself a man…just sitting there? Get me out of here!’

‘The Count holds the four aces,’ Girland said quietly. ‘I don’t bet against such odds. Give him the films.’

She turned away from him in disgust.

‘You’re not having them!’ she said, spinning around to confront von Goltz. ‘Understand? You’re not having them!’

Von Goltz waved her away. He looked now at Rosnold and his eyes were glittering with suppressed fury.

‘You realise, of course, I have ways to persuade you both?’ he said. ‘Why let us have any unpleasantness? Where are the films?’

Rosnold licked his dry lips.

‘If you tell him, I’ll kill you!’ Gilly screamed furiously. ‘He can’t force us…’

Von Goltz came out of his chair very quickly. He hit Gilly across her face with the back of his hand with cruel violence.

She catapulted across the room, smashed into a small occasional table and sprawled on the floor, flat on her back.

Girland looked down at his hands. This wasn’t the time to go into action. He knew for certain that if he made a move the big room would be filled with von Goltz’s servants.

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 stinkingf 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 co-operation.’ 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 Schioss 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 meV 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 -1 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. T 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 o&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! Whyshoyldlcare! 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 stared 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 swot 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 8 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’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 ot 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. T 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 Mr 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.

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.