Codeword Golden Fleece Page 31

  As Simon picked up the brief-case again and the Duke leaned forward to search von Geisenheim for its key the car door was pulled open, and Rex said angrily:

  ‘What in thunder’s been going on in here? Couldn’t the two of you take care of one old hoodlum? That bullet landed up in my arm.’

  ‘My fault,’ said the Duke contritely, as he stopped his searching and got out. ‘I’m sorry, Rex. I slipped up badly and I’m lucky not to have been killed myself.’

  Rex peered at the neat bullet-hole through the glass screen. ‘So am I, from the look of that. I was wriggling out from behind the wheel and it got me through the flesh just above the elbow.’

  Blood was running from a jagged tear in his caftan. They got it off, slit his shirt-sleeve and examined the wound by the light of the car lamps. Fortunately the bone was not broken and the small slug had gone clean through the flesh, but on straightening his arm Rex gave a quick yelp of pain. There was no clean water readily available to bathe the wound, so they cut off the shirtsleeve at the shoulder and bandaged it up with that; then they used a silk muffler that the Attache had been wearing, to make a sling.

  Having attended to Rex, the other two resumed their search for the key of the brief-case and soon found it in von Geisenheim’s waistcoat pocket. On undoing the case the Golden Fleece proved to be the only paper in it. A quick examination showed that the four sheets of stiff typescript were just as they had last seen them, except that Armand Calinesco’s signature had been added below Teleuesco’s. The place for the name of the party to whom the option was assigned still remained to be filled in.

  Folding the sheets into a small square wad, de Richleau thrust them into his breast pocket and said:

  ‘The delay caused by that couple and the policeman has blown our original plan sky-high. What is the best thing for us to do now?’

  Simon knew that he must still be pretty shaken from his recent narrow escape even to ask, so he stepped into the breach.

  ‘Got to get the “Fleece” to the Legation before half Bucharest is after us. Better dump the two Boches here and drive straight back in the car.’

  ‘This car’s too hot,’ Rex disagreed. ‘That cop may have seen you all kicking around inside it as I drove off. If so, the night squads will be out looking for it already.’

  ‘Let’s drive back part of the way then, and try to pick up the Chrysler. We’ll need that to get over the frontier in.’

  ‘Sure, if it’s still there. It’ll be okay if the cop didn’t see anything, but if he did he’ll have looked inside it and found the Germans’ chauffeur.’

  ‘It’s not far from Teleuescu’s to the Legation. Well worth going there just to see if it’s still possible to get hold of the Chrysler.’

  ‘Let’s get going then. Haul out those two stiffs.’

  Between them Simon and the Duke dragged the two unconscious Germans out of the car and propped them up with their backs against a nearby fence. It was certain that von Geisenheim would be out for a long time, but they were not so sure about the fat Attaché. He was jerking slightly and breathing stertorously, so it looked as if he might come round fairly soon. It was still possible that no alarm had yet been raised, and they did not want him to start a hue-and-cry earlier than could be avoided, so they tied his hands and feet with some wire that they found in the boot of the car and stuffed his handkerchief in his mouth.

  Simon took the wheel of the car and, when the other two had got inside, backed it out of the lane. Turning it there, he drove at a moderate pace back towards the part of the Chaussée Kisseleff in which its biggest private houses were situated; but when he was within half a mile of the Boulevard he turned the car into a dark cul de sac, and they all got out.

  Ten minutes’ swift walking brought them to the wide tree-lined thoroughfare and another five to a long blank wall, above which branches rustled lightly in the wind, opposite Teleuescu’s mansion. The Chrysler was no longer outside it.

  ‘Keep walking,’ whispered the Duke. ‘It’s a hundred to one that there are police in the shadows over there waiting to see if we come back.’

  When they had covered another hundred yards he said: ‘Leaving their chauffeur behind was fatal. He will have described us to the police and to his own people half an hour ago. By this time the Germans will have got the Iron Guard to warn their picket on the British Legation and increase its strength. They will probably have reinforced the picket on the American Legation too, in order to prevent Rex getting the “Fleece” to Sir Reginald by way of his own Minister; and by now I expect our description is being circulated. We had better separate. Rex is the most conspicuous of us. His height and breadth are such a give-away. Besides, that wound must be washed as soon as possible. I think you had better get back to the Peppercorn, Rex, while Simon and I see if there is any chance at all of getting into the British Legation.’

  ‘That’s sound,’ Rex agreed without argument. ‘I wouldn’t be much good to you now in a mix-up, anyway, with one arm in a sling.’

  For a moment they paused to wish one another luck, and it was agreed that the Duke and Simon should join Rex at the hotel as soon as possible. He then crossed the road and left the others to proceed on their reconnaissance.

  Soon afterwards a night-hawk droshky came clopping by, so de Richleau hailed the driver and, as they got in, told him to drive through the Strada Jules Michelet.

  Five minutes later they were drawing level with the Legation. A sickle moon had now risen above the trees, so they could see the sidewalks more clearly, even where the big trees cast patches of deep shadow. Two men were walking slowly along on the inner side of the pavement, a little group of four more stood silent and watchful almost in the gateway of the Legation.

  ‘It’s no good,’ muttered the Duke. ‘Of course they may not be waiting there specially for us, but in view of that chauffeur having been picked up it’s a hundred to one that they are. Still, we’ll have a look at the back on the chance that it may not be so well guarded.’

  He let the droshky drive on until it was out of sight of the watchers, then pulled him up and paid him off.

  When the cab had clattered away they walked down a side turning, turned again and after a few moments reached the back wall of the Legation garden. Two more men were standing on its corner and another two were patrolling up the street.

  ‘Whole place is surrounded,’ muttered Simon, stepping back into an open gateway. ‘If Rex were fit and we had him with us he’s tall enough to push me over that wall while you held those chaps off. But we wouldn’t stand a dog’s chance alone.’

  ‘No,’ the Duke agreed, as they began to retrace their steps. ‘We would only get ourselves killed if we attempted to force our way in now. We must think up some ruse by which one of us can get inside tomorrow.’

  ‘We’ll need to alter our appearance to pull that off.’

  ‘That is just what I was thinking. You are slight of build, Simon, and could easily pass for a woman. Directly the shops open you must buy some kit. In the meantime, I will get hold of a taxi somehow, and a driver’s cap and tunic; and I will drive you straight up to the front door in the morning.’

  Simon wriggled his shoulders nervously. ‘Don’t like it. If a man tries to disguise himself as a woman his feet are always such a give-away.’

  ‘You must hide them then. A nun’s robe would do the trick, and there are plenty of nuns to be seen in Bucharest.’

  ‘Don’t they always hunt in couples?’

  ‘Not always. The ones here belong to the Orthodox Greek Church, and some of its Orders have considerable freedom. A nun’s get-up would do away with the necessity for a wig too. I’m sure it’s the best thing we could hit on.’

  ‘All right,’ Simon agreed, a shade reluctantly. ‘How are you going to get hold of a taxi?’

  ‘Heaven alone knows!’ De Richleau paused under a street lamp to look at his watch. ‘It is twenty-five past twelve now, so I still have the best part of the night to get one somehow and to do anot
her little job that I’ve had in mind. The shops won’t be open till about nine, so you had better go back to the Peppercorn and get some sleep. Say it takes you two hours to get the nun’s outfit in the morning and to change into it; you should be able to meet me by eleven-thirty. I’ll pick you up outside the west door of the Cathedral.’

  ‘Why not come back with me and get some sleep yourself? There’ll be time for you to see about a taxi in the morning.’

  ‘No. I may have to steal one, and that will be easier during the night. I don’t feel like sleep, anyhow.’

  ‘Then let me come with you. I can keep cave while you pinch the chariot.’

  ‘I’d rather you got some rest, Simon. You need much more sleep than I do. I shall manage quite well on my own.’

  ‘Well, just as you like. It’s been a pretty tiring day, and I’ll be glad to get a shut-eye. You sure, though, that there’s no other way of getting this thing to Sir Reginald? Couldn’t we post it, or send it by special messenger?’

  ‘No. Sir Reginald warned me himself that the postal clearing centres are full of Iron Guard people whose job it is to tap all letters to the Foreign Legations that look as though they might be interesting. As for a special messenger, this thing is so darned important that I wouldn’t care to trust its delivery to anyone except one of ourselves.’

  ‘Couldn’t we telephone Sir Reginald? Ask him to come out and meet us somewhere?’

  ‘If the mail is tapped you can be pretty certain that his telephone is too. We don’t want to draw him into some hornets’ nest where he may get shot as we hand the Golden Fleece over to him.’

  ‘Then let’s send him a message by hand, asking him to meet us.’

  De Richleau shook his head stubbornly. ‘We daren’t, Simon. It’s not as though we had only a few German agents to be wary about. We are up against an organisation thousands strong, this time, and we now have the police on our track into the bargain. Some of them may recognise and pick us up any time after daylight tomorrow. Apart from that, if Sir Reginald goes out they will almost certainly tail him in the hope that he will lead them to us. In either case, a lot of people that we have never even seen may start shooting at us without a moment’s warning. We must not risk bringing Sir Reginald into such great danger. Many of these Iron Guards are real pro-Nazi hot-heads. They are quite capable of jumping at the chance to shoot him and pretending that it was a mistake afterwards.’

  ‘Looks as if there’s nothing else for it, then.’ Simon shrugged. ‘Well, I’ll get along. See you at the west door of the Cathedral at eleven-thirty. For goodness’ sake take care of yourself. We’d be lost without you.’

  ‘It was I who was very nearly lost without you, tonight,’ laughed the Duke. ‘I really am beginning to lose my grip. By Jove, though! That was a true word spoken in jest, if ever there was one. I haven’t given a thought yet to our line of retreat, and there will be no time to discuss that tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Should have thought of it myself,’ murmured Simon. ‘We could drive the taxi out into the country, abandon it as soon as its description as a stolen car is likely to be given out, then go native for a bit in some small town.’

  The Duke considered for a moment, then he said: ‘We don’t want to be stuck in Rumania for longer than we can help; and wherever we abandon the taxi the local search will get pretty hot for us. I think we would do better to try to get over the frontier into Bulgaria right away.’

  ‘Well, there’s only road and rail; and it’s certain that they’ll watch the stations for us.’

  ‘Wait! I think your saying there’s “only road and rail” has given me an inspiration. There is also the river.’

  ‘Then they’ll watch the Port, too.’

  ‘I doubt it. Small steamers ply down the Arieshu to the Danube, but no foreigner would ordinarily travel by such a route; and as the boats call at all the little river villages no criminal would normally choose such a slow method of getting away from the capital. While you are buying your nun’s outfit tomorrow morning Rex can make enquiries. Ask him to find out the times of the sailings and take three tickets for us on the first boat that leaves after one o’clock tomorrow. If we succeed in our job at the Legation we will go straight back to the Peppercorn and pick him up there.’

  Having settled these details, they wished each other luck again and, on reaching the next corner, separated.

  After walking for five minutes, Simon picked up another droshky and drove in it down to the Dambovita. When he entered the hotel, its proprietor was still up, having only just put out the lights of the little bar that opened into the small square hallway. He was a fat, dyspeptic-looking man with a crop of close, dark, greasy curls.

  With an unfriendly, suspicious look he pointed at the cuff of Simon’s shirt, and said something in Rumanian.

  Glancing down, Simon saw that his cuff was heavily stained with von Geisenheim’s blood.

  Without waiting for a reply, the landlord tapped his own left arm, held it up as though it were in a sling, then pointed at the ceiling. Obviously he was referring to Rex, whom he must have seen come into the hotel half an hour or so earlier.

  Simon did some quick thinking, then raised his elbow and his right hand, half-open, as though he had a glass in it, thus making a pantomime of drinking. Next, he started to sway about, then struck out with his first at the empty air.

  The landlord relaxed a little, taking it, as he was intended to do, that they had been mixed up in a drunken brawl. Such episodes were common enough down in the dock area, but he was still not altogether satisfied, as he now pointed at Simon’s hat.

  Simon had forgotten for the moment that he was wearing the black hat trimmed with red fox fur traditional among the Jews of the Bukovina. All his outer clothes, and Rex’s, were different and of a considerably lower social level from those they had been wearing when they had arrived at the hotel the previous evening.

  He tried to think of a suitable excuse for this change, which had clearly raised the landlord’s suspicions; but with no common language between them it would have been difficult to put over a plausible story, even if he could have thought of one. His imagination failing him, he resorted to that universal language which has so often averted unwelcome suspicions. Taking out his pocket-book, he laid a Rumanian bank-note high enough in value to pay for a week’s keep on the ink-stained desk, put his finger to his lips, his hand on his heart and smiled confidingly.

  The Rumanian pocketed the note without the least hesitation, but he did not smile in reply. Merely shrugging his broad shoulders, he jerked his thumb towards the stairs and turned away, apparently placated.

  They had managed to get two rooms adjoining, a single one for the Duke and a double which the other two were sharing. Rex had washed his wound and roughly rebandaged it before going to bed; he was still awake.

  While Simon adjusted the bandage properly he told him of his brush with the surly landlord and outlined the Duke’s plans for the next day. Then he undressed, got into bed and put out the light. Within a few minutes they were both asleep.

  Next morning they went out soon after nine on their respective assignments and met again in their bedroom at the Peppercorn an hour later.

  Rex had ascertained that the little river steamers left their jetty twice daily, at nine o’clock in the morning and three in the afternoon. Tickets were not necessary, as they were not unduly crowded, and fares were collected on board. Simon had emptied their suitcase to take with him, and it now contained the robe and coif of a nun of one of the Greek Church Orders.

  Had it been any male form of disguise he would have changed into it in a public lavatory, but he could not possibly go into one for men and come out of it dressed as a nun, so he could think of no alternative but to bring it back to the hotel and change there.

  ‘Hope to goodness that nosy landlord doesn’t see me going out,’ he said nervously, as he struggled into the unaccustomed garments.

  ‘I’ll beetle down before you,’ Rex volunte
ered. ‘You wait on the bend of the stairs, and when I cough you’ll know it’s all okey-doke. Sit tight till I do, then beat it across that hall for all you’re worth.’

  A few minutes later he wished Simon luck and walked heavily downstairs. The landlord was not about, so, having had a good look round, Rex coughed loudly.

  Simon came down the stairs at a run, forgot to hold up his skirt, tripped on it and took a header into the hallway.

  At the noise of his fall the door leading to the kitchen was pulled sharply open, and the landlord stood there gasping with amazement, while Simon scrambled awkwardly to his feet.

  Looking at Rex and pointing at Simon, the landlord burst into a torrent of Rumanian which, from its tone, was clearly protest mingled with abuse.

  Simon did not stay to listen but, red in the face with rage and mortification, picked up his skirts and ran out into the street.

  Rex could only pretend that he thought the whole matter a terrific joke. Roaring with laughter, he clapped the landlord on the shoulder, and pointing after Simon gave way to positive shouts of faked hilarity.

  The landlord did not appear to see the joke. First he scowled darkly, then he shot a series of staccato questions at Rex, but as Rex could not understand a word he said he threw up his hands in disgust and made to turn away. But Rex caught him by the shoulder and pronounced the only Rumanian word he knew: ‘Tuică—two, deux, zwei grosser.’

  This the fat man understood, and going to the bar he fetched out the bottle and two glasses. It was fiery stuff, but Rex drank it down without batting an eyelid. The landlord drank his with the unconcern of a professional but he became no more genial and after a few minutes reached for the telephone.

  Rex refilled the glasses, and they drank again, then he paid for the drinks with a useful note and waved aside the change. But his sop to soothe the landlord’s ruffled feelings came too late. He could not know it, but the man had already telephoned for the police.

  Simon, meanwhile, had got himself a droshky, and was driving in it to the Cathedral. When he arrived there, he found that there was still twenty minutes to go before the time of his appointment. The only thing to do seemed to be to enter the building, although he was extremely troubled about doing so as he had no idea at all what sort of procedure an Orthodox nun would follow in it.