Whiff of Money

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’tlose 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. Til never trade on my father’s rotten 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 itl 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 abed.’

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 shot-gun 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 half-way 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 with 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 forest land 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.

The switch that operated the current to the walls was in the lodge at the entrance gates. In the morning when the tradesmen arrived it would be necessary to cut the current to let them in. Girland might discover this and make a break over the wall. But could he discover this?

Suddenly losing his appetite, von Goltz left; his meal half-finished. He turned to the footman standing behind his chair and told him to get Sandeuer immediately.

Silk too had lost interest in the food and again pushed his plate away.

‘What is it?’ he asked, eyeing von Goltz.

‘Girland…’ von Goltz got to his feet. ‘I don’t like the idea of him being out there… free. I know he can’t get away, but…’

The door opened and Sandeuer entered.

‘What is happening at the lodge?’ von Goltz demanded.

‘It is all right, Excellency,’ Sandeuer said, bowing. ‘I have three armed men there. They will remain on duty all night.’

Von Goltz relaxed.

‘Good. Make sure they are continually on the alert.’

‘Yes, Excellency,’ and Sandeuer withdrew.

‘A little cheese perhaps?’ von Goltz said, sitting again at the table. The reassuring news had restored his appetite. He was now sorry to have dismissed the meat course.

‘Not for me,’ Silk said impatiently and walked across the room to the open french windows. He moved out onto the terrace and stared across the moonlit lawn to the dark forest.

Von Goltz regarded the basket of cheeses, hesitated, then with a muttered curse, shoved back his chair and joined Silk on the terrace. He disliked Silk. This tall, cold American had no manners and his ruthless face unnerved von Goltz. He knew this man had the ear of his uncle. He was sure a critical report from him would mean he would be turned out of the Schloss. He had no illusions about his uncle. When a man was found wanting by Radnitz he was either dismissed or worse, he disappeared.

‘What is it now?’ he demanded.

‘I’m trying to put myself in Girland’s place,’ Silk said. He lit a cigarette. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if we are being fooled.

We are assuming because Rosnold tried to escape, Girland and the girl also made a break. We are assuming that while Rosnold killed the dogs, Girland and the girl got down on to the terrace and made for the forest to the right instead of crossing the lawn as Rosnold did. But suppose they didn’t? Suppose instead, they went upstairs? If I had been in his place, I think that is what I would have done. There are many rooms in this place… many places to hide in.’ He looked at von Goltz. ‘We could spend days hunting for them in the forest while all the time they could be right here.’ Von Goltz stiffened.

‘Surely Girland wouldn’t be so stupid as to let himself be trapped here?’ he said. ‘He had the chance to get into the open… surely he would have taken it?’

‘Would he? He isn’t to know you have no other dogs. I think he could still be here… with the girl’

‘We’ll soon see. — I’ll have the place searched.’ ‘Even ifthey are not here,’ Silksaid, ‘it will give your men something to do. Yes… have the place searched.’ He returned to the dining-room. ‘I think I will now have a little cheese,’ and he sat down at the table. Von Goltz sent for Sandeuer.

This was the second time Sandeuer’s dinner had been interrupted. When he received the message that the count wanted to see him immediately, he threw down his knife and fork with an oath. The five senior servants who were eating with him, concealed grins. Sandeuer was not popular. The chef said he would keep Sandeuer’s dinner hot and Sandeuer, still cursing, hurried upstairs to the dining-room.

‘It is possible.’ von Goltz said as he cut a large wedge of cheese, ‘that the fugitives have not escaped into the forest. They could be still here. Take men and search every room.’

Sandeuer thought of his unfinished dinner.

‘Yes, your Excellency,’ he said bowing, ‘but may I suggest that as the top floors have no lighting and are crowded with furniture, a thorough search by flashlight would be difficult. If I may suggest the search could be much more thorough tomorrow morning when the shutters can be opened and every inch of the rooms upstairs examined.’

Von Goltz looked at Silk who shrugged.

‘Very well, but post a man at the head of every landing. He is to remain there and keep watch. As soon as it is daylight, the search is to begin.’

Sandeuer bowed and returned to his dinner after giving instructions for the landings to be guarded.

Girland decided it would be safer to go up to the fifth floor of the Schloss. He had checked the number of floors ~ eight in all -when he had arrived. By going up to the fifth floor, he had three more floors in which to manoeuvre should the need arise.

Holding Gilly’s hand and using his flashlight sparingly, he led her down the long corridor to the stair head. The thick carpet deadened their footfalls. All he could hear was Gilly’s fast breathing, and very faintly, the clatter of dishes as dinner was being served below. He thought regretfully of the food he was missing.

They went silently up the long flight of stairs, paused for a moment, then continued on up another flight of stairs. This landing was in complete darkness. No light from the ground floor reflected up the stair well as far as this.

Girland paused to listen. He heard nothing and moving away from the stair head, he turned on the flashlight. A white drugget covered the carpet. There was a slight smell of damp and must. He led Gilly down the corridor. On either side were doors. He paused at the fifth door. Easing the door open, he peered into darkness, listened, then turned on his flashlight.

The room was large. Standing against one of the walls was a four-poster bed. The windows were heavily shuttered.

Girland moved into the room and Gilly followed him. He closed the door.

‘This will do,’ he said. ‘Come on… let’s go to bed.’

‘You will tomorrow. Hungry?’

He felt her shudder in the darkness.

‘No.’

‘Lucky you… I am. Well, Dumas once said the man who sleeps, dines. So let’s go to sleep.’

‘I couldn’t… I’m too scared.’

Girland stretched out on the bed and pulled her down beside him.

‘It’s a pity you didn’t think of being scared when you made those films,’ he said, sliding his arm around her. ‘Couldn’t you see you were sticking your neck out when you started this blackmail idea with your father… he’s a toughie if ever there was one.’

‘I’d do it again!’ Gilly said but without much conviction in her voice… She pulled away from him. ‘And stop nagging!’

‘ Sorry… I was forgetting you are a mature, well-balanced woman.’

‘Oh, shut up! You madden me! Listen… suppose we go down to the count and tell him he can have the films and I promise not to make any more-if he will let us go… suppose we do that?’

‘A marvellous idea.’ Girland laughed. ‘He will have the films by tomorrow anyway. Why should he trust you? Why should he let you go?’

‘But you are going to trust me.’

‘Yes, but I have to… he doesn’t. Go to sleep,’ and Girland moved away from her, made himself comfortable and shut his eyes. In a few moments, he was in a light sleep while Gilly stared fearfully towards the invisible ceiling. After a while, she began to think back on her past life. Although still hating her father and mother, she was now regretting what she had done. She reluctantly admitted that Girland was right. The Ban War was a weak-kneed organisation. She had only joined because she knew it would enrage her father. She thought of Rosnold, now realising with a sense of shock that she wasn’t sorry that she wouldn’t ever see him again. He had been her evil influence, she told herself. Without his persuasion and his flattery, she would never have made those awful films. She felt hot blood of shame run through her.

How could she have done it? Of course that massive dose of L.S.D. had made the films seem fun at the time. If Rosnold hadn’t given her the L.S.D. she wouldn’t have done what she had done. She was now sure of that.

If she ever got out of this mess, she told herself, she would begin a new life. To hell with her father! If he became President, then the American voters got what they deserved! She would have to leave Paris. The Ban War mob would never leave her alone if she stayed. She would go to London. She had a cousin there working at the American Embassy.

He might help her find a job. She listened to Girland’s gentle breathing and she envied him. She remembered their night of love-making. He was the sort of man she would like to hook up with, but she knew that was hopeless. He was a loner… he had called himself a mercenary. He wouldn’t consider having her around with him for long.

She thought of him with envy. Men had all the advantages.

Then suddenly she stiffened and her heart began to race. Had she heard voices? She half sat up and Girland’s hand closed over hers. He had become instantly awake.

‘What is it?’

‘I thought I heard voices.’

‘Stay here.’

Although she couldn’t see him in the darkness, she felt the bed ease as he slid silently off it.

‘Don’t leave me!’ she whispered urgently.

‘Wait here!’ His voice was the barest sound but there was enough snap in it to force her to remain on the bed.

Girland moved to the door and listened. Hearing nothing, he put his hand on the ornate gilt door handle and gently levered it down, then he edged open the door.

A faint glow of light met his eyes. It came from the head of the stairs. Then he heard a man, speaking in German, say,

‘Are you all right down there, Rainer?’

A voice said something that Girland couldn’t catch.

‘Me?’ The first voice said. ‘How can I be all right… sitting on these stairs for the rest of the night?’

There was a laugh, then silence.

Girland edged open the door and peered down the corridor. He saw a heavily-built man, wearing the count’s livery, sitting on the top stair at the head of the staircase. Between his knees, his hands clasped around the barrel, was a shotgun.

The sight of this man startled Girland. Why was he there? Girland asked himself. Could be that the count suspected that Gilly and he hadn’t escaped into the forest but had remained hidden in the Schloss?

It seemed to Girland this must be the explanation why this man was guarding the staircase. But if the count thought they were still here, why hadn’t a search been organised? Girland considered this and then realised the difficulties of searching such a vast place in darkness. It looked now that the count had sealed off the landings and was waiting for daylight.

Girland closed the door softly and returned to the bed. He sat beside Gilly and told her what he had seen and what he thought would happen in the morning.

‘You mean they know we are here?’ Gilly gasped fearfully.

‘They can’t know, but I think they suspect we could be here. Now just relax. We have a lot of space to manoeuvre in. If you do exactly what I tell you, they won’t find us. But if you lose your nerve, they will find us.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘We’ll wait. We have lots of time.’

Gilly started to speak, then stopped. There was a long pause while Girland stretched out on the bed.

‘Relax and let me think,’ he said.

Gilly tried to relax, but it was impossible. She willed herself to remain still. Time crawled by. She became aware suddenly that Girland’s breathing had changed slightly and she realised he was asleep. She lay by his side, miserable and envying him his complete indifference to the danger that was crowding in on them. Then she heard a sound that made her stiffen: a faint, but distinctive sound of snoring coming from the corridor.

Girland said softly, ‘Hear that? The guard has gone to sleep.’

‘Oh… I thought you were alseep.’

‘ So I was, but I sleep lightly.’ She let him slide off the bed. He went to the door, eased it open and peered along the corridor. He saw the guard, sitting on the top stair, his head resting against the banister rail. From him was coming the gentle snoring sound.

Girland closed the door and switched on his torch. He crossed to the high windows.

‘Come on, Gilly, we have work to do.’

She scrambled off the bed and joined him.

‘Catch hold of these curtains and hold them together.’

When she had a firm grip on the heavy, velvet curtains, he took hold of the thick green and gold rope that opened and shut the curtains and threw his weight on it. For a moment it held, then came away from its fastening and dropped to the floor. He did the same with the other side of the curtain. Then he moved to the second window. Within a few minutes he had eight metre lengths of heavy curtain cord on the floor: these he began to knot together.

‘What are you doing?’ Gilly asked as she held the flashlight so he could see.

‘Confusing the situation,’ Girland said. ‘When you’re in a spot, confusion is your best friend.’

He opened one of the windows, unlatched the heavy wooden shutter and eased it back. Then he stepped out on to the balcony and looked down. There were no lights showing from any of the windows below. The light of the moon lit the vast expanse of lawn, and the distant forest was only visited by the outline of the tree tops.

He began to lower the knotted rope down the side of the outer wall, keeping the rope well clear of any window or balcony. The end of the rope finally dangled above the balcony on the second floor.

‘We want two more curtain ropes,’ he said. ‘Wait here. I’ll get them.’

‘Let me come with you.’

‘Do what I tell you!’ Girland said curtly and moved to the door. He opened it, watched the sleeping guard for several moments, then slid out into the corridor. He entered the room next door. A few minutes later, he returned as silently as he had gone with two more lengths of cord. These he knotted to the end of the cord dangling from the window and then continued to lower the cord which now just reached the ground. He tied his end to the balcony rail and moved back into the room.

‘It might fool them,’ he said. ‘Even if it doesn’t, it will gain us time.’

‘Can’t we use those ropes? We could get out of here!’

Girland shook his head.

‘I could, but you couldn’t, so we don’t go that way.’

She caught hold of his hand.

‘Once we get free, I promise I’ll leave my father alone. I won’t ever bother him again… I promise.’

‘All right, but first we have to get out of here. Now, let’s get moving. Take your shoes off. I want to look at the other rooms. This one is too small’

They both took off their shoes, then Girland opened the door and watched the sleeping guard, then led Gilly out into the corridor. Silently, they moved away from the head of the stairs, down the long dark corridor to the far end. At the end of the corridor, double, ornate doors faced them. Girland briefly used his flashlight.

‘Wait,’ he said softly.

He went forward, listened against the door, turned a handle and eased the door open. He listened again, then put on the flashlight.

The beam scarcely penetrated the vastness of the room which appeared to be a banqueting hall. For a brief moment, Girland was startled to see shadowy figures lining the walls. A further probe of his light showed him this was a vast hall full of armour, fitted to stands and the walls covered with medieval weapons. He wasn’t to know that in this room was one of the finest collections of Italian, German and English armour that Herman Radnitz had collected from all parts of Europe.

He returned to where Gilly was waiting.

‘We have lots of company,’ he said. ‘Come on in. This looks as good a hiding-place as we can hope for.’

As he entered, Girland gently closed the door.

The guard at the head of the staircase continued to sleep.

From his tree-top perch, Malik watched Girland come out on to the fifth floor balcony and lower the knotted curtain cord until it reached the second storey. He watched him lean over the balcony rail, look down and then move back out of sight. Malik guessed he was getting more cord.

The bright light of the moon lit up the face of the Schloss and Malik found it unnecessary to use his night glasses. He eased his broad back against the trunk of the tree and waited. Girland returned and added two more lengths to the cord and then fastened his end to the balcony rail.

So they were going to make a break, Malik thought. The climb down would be dangerous: with the girl, doubly dangerous. He continued to watch with interest.

But nothing further happened. The wooden shutter remained half open; the balcony remained deserted. A half hour crawled by. Malik then decided that this length of rope was a red herring. He nodded his approval. He had come up against Girland several times and each time, his admiration for the way Girland handled a situation increased. So, after all, Girland had decided to remain in this enormous Schloss, but to give those who were hunting for him the hint that he and the girl had escaped into the forest. Malik approved of this plan.

He remained astride the thick branch of the tree for another half hour. All the lights of the Schloss had long gone out. It would be when the sun came up behind the hills that the hunt would begin.

He considered what he should do. Girland was in there on his own. The girl would be more a hindrance than a help.

Malik remembered that moment when Girland could have had him shot, but instead, to Malik’s amazement, Girland had handed him back his gun, saying to the girl who had wanted to shoot him: ‘Don’t get worked up, baby. He and I just happen to be on the wrong side of the Curtain. Both of us are professionals… working in the same dirty racket. There comes a time when we can forget the little stinkers at the top who pull strings…’ (see ‘Have This One On Me’) Malik remembered this incident vividly. This, he knew was something he would never have said to a man he had in a hopeless trap. Girland’s words had made a tremendous impression on him. There comes a time when we can forget the little stinkers at the top who pull the strings…

Malik thought of Kovski, plotting at his desk, his shabby suit food-stained, his energy and thoughts bent only on mischief… a little stinker… yes… Girland was right. But Girland, with this girl, was now trapped in the Schloss. Malik decided this was the moment to pay off his debt. He remembered a phrase that was drummed into him when he was learning English: One good turn deserves another. How often had he repeated this phrase while the gloomy, red-nosed teacher had corrected his pronunciation. This phrase was a cliche, but cliches often were true.

He swung himself down from branch to branch until he dropped on to the moss and the dead leaves of the forest. Then he moved off, silently, like a big, dangerous cat, skirting the forest until he reached the edge of the lawn. Here, he paused and studied the face of the Schloss. His next move would be dangerous. Although there were no lights showing, he wasn’t to know if someone was watching. His thick fingers closed over the butt of the Mauser pistol. He drew the gun from its holster, then moving swiftly, he raced across the lawn and into the sheltering shadows of the Schloss. He paused at the foot of the steps leading to the terrace and waited. He heard nothing: no one shouted: no one raised an alarm.

Satisfied, he climbed the steps and reached the terrace, then made his way quickly past the tables and the folded sun umbrellas to where the curtain cord was hanging. He put his gun back into its holster and took hold of the cord. He pulled at it with his immense strength. It held. He pulled again: again it held.

Placing his feet against the face of the wall, he began a slow, steady walk up to the first balcony. Here he paused, gripping the balcony rail with his left hand, his feet wedged into the back of one of the dragon heads that decorated the wall. He listened and waited, then moved to the second balcony. The climb to him was easy. He was a man of tremendous strength and fitness. He was also nerveless. The thought that the rope might break and he would crash to his death meant nothing to him.

By stages, he finally reached the fifth floor balcony, swung his legs over the rail and paused before the open shutter and the open window.

He had come up silently, but he knew Girland had a highly developed sense of hearing. To walk into the black darkness of the room would be asking for trouble. He remained on the balcony, listening, but heard nothing. Girland could be near, out of sight, thinking one of the count’s men had come up by way of the rope.

‘Girland… this is Malik,’ Malik said in his guttural English. He pitched his voice softly. ‘Girland… this is Malik.’

He waited. There was silence. Slowly, he moved forward, turning on his powerful flashlight. The white beam lit up some of the room. He stood in the doorway, sending the beam of the flashlight to the four-poster bed, then around the room. Satisfied the room was empty, he entered.

He stood in the middle of the room. So Girland had arranged his red herring and had left the room. Malik nodded his approval. But where was he?

Malik went silently to the door, eased it open and immediately stiffened when he saw a faint, flickering light in the corridor. He looked out, watched the sleeping guard for several moments, then moved silently into the corridor.

Doors faced him. Somewhere on this floor, Malik reasoned, Girland, with the girl, was hiding. He hesitated. He had to be careful not to wake the sleeping guard. He couldn’t go from room to room, calling Girland. It would be unwise to enter any room, without first alerting Girland who he was. Finally, he decided to get as far away as he could from the sleeping guard and find himself a hiding-place.

He moved silently down the corridor until he reached the double doors at the far end. He looked back, assured himself the guard was still sleeping, then eased open the door. Here he paused, listened, heard nothing, then he stepped, into the darkness of a vast banqueting hall.