Betrayal (34 page)

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Authors: J. Robert Janes

BOOK: Betrayal
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The woman flicked her gaze over the lipstick that was never worn on visits to the castle. The change purse was gone through, her handkerchief opened and shaken out, that last letter from home perused.

‘You can leave these here. Now your shoes.'

‘Look, I've done nothing wrong. I
won't
be subjected to this sort of treatment.'

Corporal Bridgewood turned away to lock the door, then stood in front of it, a bright young thing who was obviously uncomfortable about her duty but would do as ordered.

‘If you don't do as you're told, Mrs. Fraser,' said Maureen, ‘we will have to strip you ourselves and can't vouch for not tearing things if you should resist.'

This couldn't be happening to her, yet was. Mary took off her shoes. The Sanderson woman went over them thoroughly.

She took off her overcoat, scarf and tam, and the woman examined everything, saying only, ‘You can pick these up afterwards when you get your bag.'

The jacket came next, its dark brown velvet crushed in those meaty fists. Then the jerkin Hamish had bought for her birthday, and the blouse he had liked so much, the skirt, the seldom-worn silk stockings and garter belt, each item being examined in turn.

‘Now are you satisfied?' Mary heard herself ask.

The woman shook her head.

Off came the slip and she threw it at the bitch only to hear her say, ‘Now the rest.'

‘I won't! I refuse! You've gone far en …'

Seized from behind, she was forced over the edge of the table and held down by the younger one. Rubber gloves were found, Mary struggling, kicking out as best she could and crying, ‘Don't you dare put your filthy hands on me!'

The step-ins were yanked down, her legs spread, she stiffening as something hard was rammed into her vagina, then into her rectum.

The brassier was taken off, its padding slit.

The Fraser woman hadn't like it one bit, was hanging her head in shame. ‘Get dressed.'

‘I have to go to the toilet.'

‘Then go on the floor and clean it up. From now on you'll do exactly as we say.'

Bannerman gave her a moment to compose herself in the chair he'd placed directly in front of his desk. Signalling that the others, except for Roger Trant, should leave the office, he came round to stand in front of the woman. It couldn't have been pleasant being searched like that. She was pale and shaken and badly frightened, her refusal to look up but a further indication of the humiliation she must be feeling.

But no matter. ‘My dear young woman, we have been keeping track of your progress for some time. Let me assure you that hanging is a very unpleasant business and that in your case it would be made far worse by a good deal of publicity and the presence of your husband. Now what's it to be,
hmm
?'

Still she could not look at him.

‘I have nothing to say to any of you.'

‘My dear, we …'

‘I'm not “your dear,” Colonel. My name is Mrs. Mary Ellen Fraser.'

‘My dear, we are sorry for what has happened to you but war is war and from time to time certain things are necessary.'

‘Colonel, might I suggest …'

‘Roger, I will thank you kindly not to interrupt me.'

‘Of course, sir. It's only that Mrs. Fraser was not completely searched.'

‘What was that? Goddamn it, I gave you strict orders. Oh blast it, man, you've made me tell her who was responsible!'

Trant stepped into view but she wouldn't look at either of them, not yet.

‘That cut on her forehead, Colonel. Miss Sanderson neglected to remove the bandage.'

‘All right, all right! It's true the IRA have been using me, but I don't know much of what's up, not really.'

The two of them must have exchanged glances, for Trant quickly stepped from view. She heard him strike a match, knew he must be lighting a cigarette, but it was Bannerman who said, ‘Let's try Dublin for starters,
hmm
?'

Dear God, she wished he wouldn't
hmm
at her! ‘I met no one. I did a bit of shopping, went to the library for Hamish, and had dinner at my hotel, then went to bed early and left first thing in the morning.'

All cut and dried, that it, and she still not able to face them? He'd fold his arms across his chest and settle back against the edge of the desk, thought Bannerman. He hadn't wanted to order the body search, not with a woman like this whose husband, if he got word of it, would raise the bloody roof, but Roger had been adamant—they had had to strike while they could. ‘Please don't be difficult, Mrs. Fraser. An inspector in the Irish Secret Service was murdered on the night you were “asleep,” as you say, in that hotel of yours. Morgan Davies was the father of seven children, all of whom are under the age of fifteen.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that, Colonel, but know nothing of this man.'

Even now, was it that she could continue to lie? ‘Of course you don't. It's the slug that killed him which is of interest. Markings on the bullet match those from two other brutal murders.'

‘I still don't understand why you're telling me this?'

By God, he wished she would look at him! A damned good thrashing was what she needed, bare backside and all! ‘Kevin O'Bannion, Mrs. Fraser. The gun was his. The Garda have the proof.'

Trant stepped in to keep the pressure up. Mary knew he was going to rip the bandage away. ‘Liam Nolan did murder the two women with whom he was staying in London, Mrs. Fraser. Jauncy Gilmore is the son of one of them and just happens to have a flat in Saint Stephen's Green. Perhaps you know of it? Young Gilmore is acting as a purchasing agent for His Majesty's Government. Travels a good deal in Eire and Ulster. Leaves his flat empty.'

He paused, must still be looking at the bandage.

‘But knows, Mrs. Fraser, that it might well be used when he's absent and turns a blind eye because he has to, his rebellious sister Janet having a crush on a certain Liam Nolan.'

‘The girl, I should add,' said Bannerman, ‘whose father had Nolan, but an urchin then, stripped and tied to the pump standard in his stable yard until Lady Prudence prevailed upon his lordship to have the boy cut down and taken to her bed.'

They were like priest and bishop at the trial of a wilful girl, both despising her and enjoying what they were doing. It would now be Trant's turn.

‘Nolan has had a running, if shabby and intermittent love affair for years with Lord Gilmore's daughter. No doubt he first seduced her at a very young age, though there is some doubt as to which of them seduced the other.'

‘Janet Gilmore was a headstrong girl. The hand that fed the urchin and nursed him back to health was rather badly bitten, I should say,' said Bannerman, affecting the tired, rather bored air of the bishop.

‘Nolan murdered Lady Gilmore and her daughter, Mrs. Fraser. Before he killed them, I'm sure he told them what he thought of them.'

‘You said they had died in their sleep.'

‘Did I?' exclaimed Trant. ‘A correction, then. You see, he did awaken one of them—couldn't have done otherwise, not a man with a grudge like that. Lady Prudence made it half out of bed, and was found with her throat slit and her head twisted sideways against the carpet. Can't have been pleasant, her hearing him saying such things. I gather there was a great deal of blood. Corpses do tend to drain when they're left like that, and Nolan has been known to butcher hogs and game from time to time.'

She would have to find the will to look up at him. ‘And Janet?' she asked.

‘Janet, yes. The girl was found stark naked and spread-eagled on her bed, Mrs. Fraser, but before he killed her, Nolan and she had sex. Then, and only then, did he go for the mother, so guess what he told that one had just happened?'

Bannerman could hardly wait. ‘On the night you were at that hotel, MI5's Listeners in Dublin, Wexford, Cork and Dundalk picked up the clandestine signals of an enemy transmitter. Others in Holyhead, Aberystwyth and Milford Haven also found the sending very fast, even for a good Morse operator. There was considerable traffic at that hour, a lot of interference due to bad weather over the Continent, the result of which was that, though they recorded what Mrs. Ursula Tulford sent over to Berlin, they got only a portion of what was sent back. We absolutely must have the rest of it.'

It was Trant who, setting his cigarette aside, said, ‘You have a very clear choice in this matter. You can either cooperate, in which case you will be forgiven certain, shall we say, “indiscretions,” and perhaps even given a medal and a suitable rank in one of the services, or you will be taken from this office and placed under arrest for treason.'

She mustn't cry, must just try to face them. ‘What is it you want of me?'

‘The message, of course,' said Bannerman.

‘Liam Nolan, the Darcy woman, and Kevin O'Bannion,' said Trant.

‘The confessions of Erich Kramer, Franz Bauer, and the other officers of Kramer's U-boat. They hanged the Second Lieutenant Bachmann. That lover of yours put the rope around his neck, Mrs. Fraser. Kramer kicked the chair out from under him. Kramer, damn you!'

‘Stop it! Please stop it.'

They gave her a moment. It was Trant who said, ‘GHQ and the prime minister are demanding that an example be made of you. The colonel and I are giving you the opportunity to clear your name.'

‘Mrs. Fraser, we really must have the location of this tunnel they've been digging. We must have the rest of that message the Tulford woman received from Berlin.'

Could she not simply force herself to look up at them? wondered Mary. ‘My husband is never to know of this.'

Trant glanced at the colonel who indicated that he should take it from here. ‘Hamish won't be allowed back into Ireland until it's over. You have my word on this as an officer and a gentleman. He'll be kept right out of it.'

Mary knew she couldn't stop the tears but must she disgrace herself further? ‘I'll be shot, won't I? It'll be a lot easier that way. Look, I know that's what you people have in mind. No problem, Major. No need for all this talk of medals and commissions in some branch of the services. Just a bullet in the face or back and an end to the problem. Admit I'm right.'

‘What did you do to your forehead?'

‘I hit it against our bathroom mirror. I was angry with myself for having inadvertently caused Robbie's death.' Trant would tear the bandage from her now and would force Hamish to watch her hang. ‘Do I have your guarantee I'll be killed, Major? Shot accidentally?'

Visibly shaken, he said, ‘There's no need for that. We're not inhuman. We do have our good side.'

‘Oh? Caithleen would have been set afire, Major. Parker was shot to pieces though I'm certain Jimmy knew he had been held to ransom and had taken no part in things. And Robbie … Why, Robbie was just a dog. A dog!'

‘My dear young woman, you have no other choice,' said Bannerman quietly.

‘Then let me have a piece of paper and a pencil. They made me memorize it this time.'

Trant swept uncertain eyes over the bandage and nodded, though intuition warned him to look behind it.

‘Which part of the message did they pick up?' she asked.

He let an exasperated breath escape. ‘Just write the whole of it down.'

And gamble, was that it? Gamble that if she lied, they'd not pick her up on it? ‘Mrs. Tulford did say the code wasn't the one she was using.'

It was Trant who sighed and said, ‘Then neither she nor the IRA will know of its contents.'

‘The Nazis won't tell me what it means, Major. You must know that as well as I.'

‘Then you must let them know the deal's off unless they do.'

Shaking her head, she went back to getting the message down. ‘They'd only suspect that I was working for you.'

‘Convince them otherwise. Find out its contents.'

When handed the sheet of paper, Trant quickly scanned it, then gave her a look that could mean so many things. Triumph or doubt, praise or anger, even hatred, for he must despise her as would the colonel.

‘Now go and do your stuff,' he said. ‘There's a good girl. You're one of us.'

‘And if Franz Bauer should suspect it?'

‘Then we must take our chances, mustn't we?'

1
While there were, even in England, vast differences from area to area in what was and was not available, a reference to a Dublin visit in February 1942 gave the peace of lighted streets and consuming all the butter, meat and alcohol wanted. Even in 1944, a hotel menu taken back to London produced tears. There were shortages but in general these were never as harsh as in England. Fuel was the major concern and it became desperate.

2
By the war's end, those who had left to work in factories in Britain had all but cured Southern Ireland's unemployment.

3
A nanny.

9

From the gatehouse and the barbican, the rampart walk ran westwards for a good three hundred feet to the cantling tower. Buffeted by the wind, Mary stood alone, first looking uncertainly towards the tower and then back at the door through which she had just come.

When she tried to return, she found that door locked. There were no sentries in evidence, no machine-gun emplacements, just the rampart walk with its crenellated battlements, the wind gusting and, in the near distance atop the tower, a ragged flock of rooks tearing across a cloud-riven sky.

Trant had washed his hands of her. He must have had a note delivered straight to the German High Command:
Have Kramer and the other officers of U-121 sent to his office immediately.
No time for her to figure out what to do or say, none even to try to hide. There'd be no bullet in the back or messy trial, simply another murder in a prison full of German officers some of whom had already done in one of their own.

It would stick all right because she could have named them as the killers of Bachmann. Trant wouldn't want the High Command to hear the complete message nor the prisoners to get their hands on the rest of the dynamite, would have to let them kill her.

The castle's warren began with a corridor that was far too wide and a drawing room that was huge, barren of every last stick of furnishings and so cold and empty, her steps sounded hollowly as she ran. She would try to reach the great hall, would try to barricade herself in the library. Helmut Wolfganger would help her. Helmut wasn't like the others and neither was Philip Werner. They wouldn't let Bauer get near her …

At the sound of rushing steps on one of the stone staircases, she darted into a room and threw her back against its innermost wall.

The steps ran past—there were several of them. Prying off her shoes, she started out again but in the hush there was nothing but the terror of knowing she alone stood between Bauer and the others and the hangman's noose. Never mind their orders. Never mind the escape or that Nolan had someone else inside the castle. She was now simply too much of a threat and Trant had seen to this.

Room fell upon room and she realized, as she slipped into each, that the mustiness of disuse and the high and ornately plastered ceilings of the derelict meant that this section of the castle had never been open to the prisoners.

Coming to what must once have been the main ballroom, she saw that there were murals on the walls and ceilings. Scenes of the hunt, stags being torn to pieces, medieval times …

Mary hesitated as she put her shoes back on. There were four doorways leading into corridors. Five men were watching her. Five! Hans Schleiger and Erich … Erich was just staring at her from across the room, she not knowing if she could make it to the emptiest of those doorways.

‘Franz!' The rest of what he shouted was in
Deutsch
and she couldn't understand all of it and raced for that one doorway, heard them all coming after her, darted down a staircase, hit the door at the bottom, found it open, and raced out into the bailey, knew then that Trant would be watching for just such a thing.

Dragging in a breath, she ran past the main entrance and up the steps of the keep and in at that door. She had to make it to the great hall, had to get into the library but now there were men everywhere. They filled the corridors, turned their backs on her and when she tried to get through, sometimes stood in her way. ‘Please, you don't understand. I had to tell Trant and the colonel. I had to!'

When Bauer broke through to cut her off, she darted into the stairwell that was just beside the washroom—took the stairs two and three at a time, climbing, spiralling up and up, then went along the corridor to her right, he so close behind she tripped and cried out as he gave her a brutal shove and sent her stumbling blindly up the last flight of stairs to burst into the room at the top.

The room where she and Erich had made love.

Bauer slammed the door behind himself. There was a knife in his right hand and he gripped it as if she had one too. Forced up against the far wall, she began to edge her way towards the window …

‘Bauer, stop this at once.'

The words had been in
Deutsch
, the lifeless eyes blinking as the knife clattered on the floor.

‘Herr Vizeadmiral …'

‘Silence! Now get out of here.'

Huber had had only the bearing of command as his defence, yet Bauer had instantly stood to attention.

‘Mrs. Fraser, you must forgive what has just happened. Events here have moved far too quickly even for us. Please sit on the floor and rest yourself. What I have to say won't take long. Major Trant is using us against you and that we cannot have. But … but you have hurt yourself.'

Shutting her eyes, Mary gingerly probed her forehead. Blood came away. ‘It's nothing. The bandage is still there. He … he could have removed it but didn't.'

‘Please, you are in no further danger from any of us. Franz Bauer will be punished.'

Going over to the window, Huber looked out over the bailey, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘After what has happened, we can't expect you to help us anymore. This I regret very much and apologize profusely. Bauer will be made to face the charges against him but not the others. Not Erich Kramer. Did you know he has a wife and little boy?'

‘It doesn't matter.'

Had that newfound resilience and toughness he'd experienced in her before been but a passing moment of defiance? ‘But it does matter. It was unkind of us to have used you, and now I am wondering what we can do to get you out of this mess we have created.'

‘Trant had me strip-searched. I can't bring anything more in to you people. I'll be up for treason in any case.'

His nod was grim. ‘Then they'll have found the bullets and will now turn the castle upside down for the gun.'

She shook her head. ‘Not yet. In here. It … it was the only place they didn't look.'

Crouching in front of her, Huber gently teased a corner of the bandage away. Two cartridges were embedded in a wound from which splinters of glass glistened. How had she stood the pain and the threat of Trant's finding them?

‘
Ach
, that cut must be cleaned and stitched. Dr. Conner is in the infirmary and while he won't do the job your husband would, it will suffice.'

‘Wait, please. I … I didn't give Trant all of the message Mrs. Tulford received from Berlin.'

Liebe Zeit
, was that toughness of spirit still with her? ‘For now just come with me and I will take you to the infirmary. There will be time enough later.'

Huber helped her to her feet but she refused to leave until he had written down the message. ‘The CCRMR is the same ending as before, Vice Admiral. The major didn't ask me about the message you had given me for her, only about this one, but I think he must know of it as well.'

Did she really feel the only way out for her was to cooperate? ‘CCRMR is a code within a code. Since it is one that is not regularly used by our forces, the British may not yet have had a chance to break it, especially as repeated use is one of the very reasons codes are broken.'

‘Trant will only ask me what it means and if I don't tell him something, I'll be sent straight to prison. The CCRMR is what made him send for Erich and the others. I … I fudged it and some of the other groupings, and he … well, he realized I had.'

To have memorized the groupings alone had been one task, to deliberately and quickly ‘fudge' them in the face of such a threat, quite another. ‘The CCRMR means Heidi, which is the code name for the escape and for yourself.'

Heidi
. ‘What does it say?'

She had not averted her gaze, but could he trust her after what had just happened to her? The message would take about five minutes to decode.

Mary waited. Huber exuded a confidence that was comforting, but she knew that at the first sign of weakness she would be forgotten. He struck a match and burned what he'd written.

‘In essence, it means, Terms agreed. Fix rendezvous zero one hundred hours, twenty-three November.'

Again he paused, and she had the thought then that he must be deciding whether to tell her something or not.

‘Kill Heidi,' he said, not averting his gaze. ‘It ends with that, and for this I am sorry.'

The woman didn't flinch. Perhaps she was simply beyond this. If so, she would now need encouragement. ‘
Ach
, Berlin are so distant from this little place of ours, Mrs. Fraser, it is an order I can only rescind. On this you have my word.'

‘And what of the charges Trant will bring?'

‘Franz Bauer will be told he must hang for the murder of Bachmann, but the others must be allowed to go free. You will therefore tell the major that only Bauer was involved and that this is all you will swear to in court.'

‘Is Erich that important?'

This one was being very direct. ‘For what we need, he is by far the best. Now come. That forehead of yours must be attended to.'

Mary reached out to stop him. ‘I … Look, I don't want anyone to be killed, Vice Admiral. I … I couldn't bear it.'

To have a conscience at such a time was, in itself, a warning that he could not overlook but something would have to be said. ‘Then rest assured the gun will only be used if necessary.'

‘And the explosives? I managed to get most of what was in the box out of the loft of our stable.'

‘But will tell this Nolan only when necessary, and that if harm should come to you, he will have to answer to me.'

Again Mary stopped him. ‘Trant will force me to give him the complete message and will demand to know what it means, so I must give him something so close to the truth, he won't question it.'

This was no ordinary woman and they had best not forget it. ‘We will have to use the code again—perhaps two or even three times …'

‘He'll have to be satisfied, Vice Admiral. He may even decide simply to have me arrested. I really don't know. One never does with him.'

‘Then tell him, Terms agreed. Fix rendezvous. Forward via Heidi.'

As the needle went in again, Mary lay on the makeshift operating table with her head tilted back. Dr. Connor had removed all of the glass but had said she'd have a scar and that this could not be helped.

He pulled the suture tight; she heard the scissors snip it off. ‘There now. Back in four or five days and right as rain.'

The lamp was switched off. Blinking, she looked up to see him grinning down at her. ‘Liam said I was to take good care of you, and by God I have, even if I do say so myself.'

It was Huber who laid a hand on her arm to stop her from sitting up, Connor flicking a glance at him before saying, ‘You weren't to know, but under the circumstances, the vice admiral here thought it best.'

‘You're Nolan's other contact.'

‘That I am. It's your husband's misfortune to have received a rap on the head for misbehaving at the colonel's party, and mine for being his replacement.'

‘Did Nolan threaten you?'

‘Ah and sure you're not to worry yourself.'

‘Your wife and children?'

‘Look, let's just do as we've been told and pray t' God we get out of this.'

Connor had the pudgy grey and lined face of the heavy drinker. The eyes were grave, blue, tired and watery, the hair all but gone. A bit of sticking plaster clung to his chin, another to the left cheek. A man of perhaps forty-five but looking near to sixty.

‘If you're finished with that scrutiny of yours, the vice admiral would like a word.'

He turned away. She sat up. ‘Doctor …'

‘M'am?'

‘Thanks.'

‘Ah think nothing of it. I'll just see to my bag.'

Huber told her to rest. ‘The major will be along at any moment.'

Waiting, Mary lay there not knowing what would happen, but all too soon Trant barged in and she had the two of them standing over her, one on either side.

‘Well, what the devil's been going on, eh?' demanded Trant. There were three armed men with him.

‘Major, regrettably Mrs. Fraser was attacked on her way to the library and suffered a fall that reopened a cut on her forehead and required a few stitches.'

‘Rubbish. Where are Kramer and the others? I specifically asked that they be sent to my office.'

‘They are in the other room. Major …'

‘Well, what is it now?'

‘Franz Bauer went after Mrs. Fraser. Erich Kramer and the others had to restrain him. Bauer will confess to the hanging.'

Trant swiftly took him in and snorted derisively. ‘Bauer wasn't alone. All five of them were in on it.'

‘But he will confess, Major,' said Huber.

A fait accompli, that it? ‘Then bring the bastard in and let's hear what he has to say.' They'd get precious little out of Bauer. Sweating him would do no earthly good but he might yet have his use. There was a dungeon in the cellars below the cantling tower. Bauer could be held there pending trial and would be well away from the others.
And Mrs. Fraser?
he demanded of himself. He'd have to hear what she had to say, but later.

As Bauer was led in by Erich and Hans Schleiger, Mary knew at once that he'd kill her if ever the chance arose and that Trant, who never missed a thing, had seen this and would use him if necessary.

‘Major, you wanted them to kill me.'

‘My dear young woman, I wanted you to see how tenuous is your position here. Those men are Nazis—Huber, Bauer, Kramer, even Wolfganger. Bauer will put his neck in the noose and gladly for that Führer of his. He's been
ordered
to, God damn it!'

‘There's no need to shout. I understand perfectly.'

She hadn't flinched at the sound of his voice but was looking rather pale. ‘Admit that you've been taking things into Tralane.'

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