Codeword Golden Fleece (10 page)

De Richleau was somewhat concerned as Lucretia knew no Polish but reference to the railway time-tables showed that, even if she had left Cracow quite early in the day, there was no chance of her getting in that night.

After breakfast next morning they telephoned the station-masters at both Pinsk and Kowel, requesting that a look-out should be kept for a young foreign lady with golden hair;
aquiline nose and grey eyes, and that if she arrived she should be made comfortable in the station hotel until a car could be sent to pick her up.

In the absence of von Geisenheim and Major Bauer, the Polish Staff officers had no conference to occupy them, so, having sat about reading or sleeping most of the weekend, they had arranged a snipe-shoot for the Monday. De Richleau went out with them and would have thoroughly enjoyed his day had he not been vaguely troubled about Lucretia. When they got back in the late afternoon he learned to his dismay that not only had she not yet arrived but there was no further news of her.

He spent a good part of the evening ringing up hotels in Warsaw on the chance that she might have stayed at one of them the previous night; but the war scare had now become so general that people all over Euope were curtailing their holidays and making emergency arrangements, which resulted in the lines becoming so congested that his efforts proved both exasperating and useless.

First thing on the Tuesday morning the most urgent enquiries at both stations still failed to produce any information about the missing Countess, and the Duke’s friends had all their work cut out to persuade him that a serious accident was much less likely to be the cause of her disappearance than a misunderstanding of Jan’s garbled message, or the generally unsettled state of things; and, indeed, from the news bulletins it seemed that Europe was on the very brink of catastrophe.

The Polish Government evidently knew nothing of the secret negotiations which were proceeding so well at Lubieszow, and the German Government gave no appearance of doing so. Each was accusing the other with ever-growing bitterness of injustice and persecution towards its nationals and it looked as though the street clashes which were already occurring in Danzig might at any time be made the excuse by one side or the other for an open declaration of hostilities.

Just after five o’clock an aircraft circled over the house and came down in the fields behind it. Two minutes late the guests, who were drinking their afternoon coffee in the terrace, saw the tall, grey General Count von Geisenheim and his lame, brutal-faced Nazi adjutant approaching. As soon as the new arrivals had been given refreshments Mack muttered a few words to the Count, upon which all the officers present left the terrace to go into immediate conference.

‘If only Lucretia turns up it looks now as though we’ll be able to get away from here tomorrow,’ murmured Richard.

‘Yes—if only she does,’ de Richleau agreed. ‘I got on to the police in Warsaw about her this afternoon, but they could tell me nothing, and they are so busy with emergency measures that I fear they will prove of little help. However, I have no doubt you’re right about tonight seeing the end of the conferences here. The war is three days overdue already, and even Hitler will not be able to restrain those young blackguards of his in Danzig much longer. It is only a question now of whether he will pay Mack’s price for an easy victory, and to that von Geisenheim will have brought the answer.’

For a little time they paced moodily up and down the terrace, then in due course went up to change for dinner.

During the meal they were conscious of a suppressed excitement, yet nothing was said to indicate how the negotiations were proceeding, and the Duke guessed the reason. The full limit of Mack’s contemplated treachery was not known to his companions. To him alone would von Geisenheim give Hitler’s answer, and it was probable that the German had not yet done so.

As soon as dinner was finished the two of them went out on to the terrace together. When they returned, after only a few minutes, Mack was smiling.

Richard’s hazel eyes met the Duke’s grey ones. Their faces remained impassive, and they glanced with seeming casualness towards Marie Lou. Her face, too, was completely expressionless; but all three of them knew that the Polish pass had been sold.

Mack suddenly addressed his officers: ‘Gentlemen! The
Herr General
has just told me that he wishes to leave again at first light for Berlin. One final session tonight should conclude our business. Let us go upstairs.’

With von Geisenheim beside him he walked straight towards the broad staircase; his staff and Major Bauer quickly drank up their liqueurs and followed.

Shortly afterwards, the rest of the party accompanied the Baroness up to her drawing-room. Somehow they managed to maintain an apparently normal conversation about trivialities, but all of them, except old Anna Lubieszow and the phlegmatic Baron, were secretly engaged in wondering what was going on in the big room across the landing, so it was not surprising that occasional short silences occurred.

During one of them the sound of a car driving up to the front of the house could be heard quite clearly, and everyone looked round startled, wondering whom it could be. Two minutes later, Jan, now in the uniform of a Polish Air Force officer, came hurrying into the room.

He laughed at their exclamations, kissed his aunt’s hand, was introduced to the Eatons, then gave the Duke a cheerful but puzzled look, as he said: ‘I expected that you would have left here days ago for Warsaw, sir?’

‘And I,’ replied the Duke coldly, ‘expected that you would have returned here days ago with my ward. Is Lucretia with you?’

‘Of course not. I—’

‘Then where the devil is she?’

‘But didn’t you get my message?’

‘Yes. To say that you were reporting to your unit and that she was returning by train.’

Jan spread out his hands. ‘I am most sorry—terribly so. The line was very bad. Anna could not have heard properly what I said. I knew you had planned to leave here for England on Monday morning, and as I could not fly her back on the Sunday afternoon it looked as if you must be delayed a whole day. To avoid that I put her on the train for Warsaw and telephoned my housekeeper to expect her. My idea was that she could sleep there Sunday night and that you could pick her up in Warsaw on Monday.’

‘I see,’ murmured the Duke. ‘Your intentions were certainly of the best, Jan; but we have been terribly worried about her. And why, I wonder, as I failed to appear, has she not telephoned?’

With a slightly uneasy smile, Jan shrugged his broad shoulders. He did not like to say in front of them that his own duties had taken him to Warsaw, where he had arrived only a few hours after Lucretia, and that they had since been hitting up the town together without giving a thought to the Duke. Instead, he said:

‘Believing that you knew where she was, I think she has been content to wait there until it suited you to pick her up.’

Clotilde nodded her dark head. ‘That must be it. All your worries are over, Duke, and we have been alarmed for nothing. But you, Jan,’ she went on, shaking a reproving finger at her nephew, ‘you are a very naughty boy not to have made quite certain that Anna understood your plan. And now, tell us how it is that you have been able to get back here after all.’

‘That was sheer luck,’ he grinned, ‘and this is only a flying visit. Owing to the non-aggression pact between Russia and Germany, many of our air force dispositions have had to be changed. We can no longer afford to leave our eastern frontier altogether unguarded, and a number of our best Reserve Squadrons are being sent there. Mine is one of them, and as I was motoring to my new station I thought I would break my journey here for the night.’

‘Forgive me, Madame,’ the Duke addressed Clotilde, ‘but I would like to get through to Lucretia, and I’m sure Jan could help me by getting his own Warsaw number and asking for her to be brought to the telephone.’

‘But certainly!’ the Baroness and Jan agreed almost simultaneously, and the two men left the room.

On the way downstairs Jan said quickly: ‘You’ve no need at all to worry about her. As a matter of fact, I’ve come straight from Warsaw, and she was in grand form when we lunched together just before I set out.’

De Richleau gave him a sharp glance. ‘Am I to conclude that the story of your being called up last week is actually a fairy tale, or is it that you have been neglecting your duties to entertain my ward?’

‘Neither,’ replied Jan, a little stiffly. ‘I had to report to the local headquarters in Cracow on Sunday, and I had no idea that I should be ordered to the Central Depot in Warsaw until some hours after Lucretia had left. We Poles are not the people to neglect our duty at a time like this; but once I got to Warsaw I was simply waiting to be posted, so I was able to devote myself to showing Lucretia the city with a perfectly clear conscience.’

‘I fear I deserved that,’ de Richleau admitted with a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Jan, and I’m very glad that you were able to give Lucretia such a pleasant time. It’s a great relief to know that she is safe, though, and as there is almost certain to be a long delay in getting through to Warsaw we won’t bother to telephone now. I really do expect to leave here tomorrow morning, so I should be with her again later in the day.’

‘I’d like to telephone all the same; just to—er—wish her good-night. But, you know, Lucretia thought that you might decide to stay on here a few days longer. That’s why she wasn’t at all worried when you did not turn up.’

‘Did she give any reason why I might stay on?’ de Richleau probed with assumed casualness.

‘No, and it was none of my business, so I did not press her.’

The Duke hesitated only for a second. He thought that Mack would keep his word and allow the Eatons and himself to leave the following day, but he was by no means certain of that. The arch-traitor might well believe that they had guessed too much and go back on his promise. Now that the Duke knew the final outcome of the secret talks the urgency of getting home to report in person had increased a thousandfold. Whatever Mack might intend, the Duke meant to leave within the next twenty-four hours. If Mack did prove obstructive, and it came to making a bolt for it, Jan, who was unquestionably a honest fellow, might become a very valuable ally to the escapers. As these thoughts flashed through his brain, the Duke said:

‘It’s rather a long story, Jan, and I would prefer not to talk about it in the house. Put in your Warsaw call and while we are waiting for it to come through we will take a stroll in the garden.’

While Jan was talking to the exchange, the Duke considered carefully just how much he should tell him. He felt that the whole story would be far too strong meat for a fanatically patriotic Polish airman, and he did not wish Jan to put a spark to the powder magazine by some premature and ill-advised action; so when they were well away from the house he talked for a little of the obvious importance of the secret conference with the Germans, and then disclosed the fact that Mack had placed Baron Lubieszow’s English guests under arrest and was detaining them against their will.

Had he been able to foresee the frightful repercussions which were to result from his disclosure before he was an hour older, he would never have made it; but beneath Jan’s cheerful, easy manner there lurked a highly explosive nature, and Polish traditions meant much more to him than his career or personal safety.

Having listened with growing astonishment and impatience to what the Duke had to say, he suddenly burst out:

‘But this is fantastic—unthinkable! You and your friends are our guests. Naturally, you are free to go whenever you wish. My uncle cannot possibly be aware of this conversation you had with Mack. He would never agree to such an outrageous abuse of hospitality by one of his guests towards another.’

‘I am sure the Baron doesn’t approve of what is going on,’ murmured the Duke, ‘but all the same I am quite certain that he knows about it.’

‘Have you spoken to him about it yourself?’

‘No, I was reluctant to embarrass him.’

‘Then you have no proof at all that he is a party to Mack’s disgraceful behaviour. I will speak to my uncle at once, and Mack shall be forced to apologise.’

Jan had already turned back towards the house, and the Duke, who now had some difficulty in keeping up with the young Pole’s impetuous pace, said quickly: ‘Listen, my friend. I would much rather that you did not make a scene about this. If Mack goes back on his promise to let us go tomorrow, well—we can discuss the matter again. But, as long as the conference has been in progress, he has no doubt felt that he had adequate grounds for detaining us.’

‘I disagree entirely. What grounds could he have? Britain and Poland are allies. Why should he object to your Government learning that he has been holding talks with the Germans in an eleventh-hour attempt to avert war? No one but a lunatic could want war, with all the misery that it brings. What could he have said to them at these conferences that he would be unwilling that the British Government should know? Obviously nothing. Therefore, his prohibition on your departure is not only a flagrant breach of courtesy, but also entirely pointless.’

‘True enough! True enough!’ de Richleau agreed a little breathlessly, as he wondered what on earth would have happened had he told this volcanic young man the whole truth about General Mack and his nefarious machinations.

As they emerged from a screen of flowering shrubs they saw that the big lounge on the ground floor, which had been in semi-darkness when they left it, was now a blaze of light. On drawing nearer, they could hear the babel of many voices, and when they entered it through the terrace window they saw that the whole house-party had now gathered in the long, antler-hung room.

The last meeting of the conference was over, the Baroness had come down from her sanctum to join her military guests, and the Baron had ordered up champagne that a toast might be drunk on the successful conclusion of the negotiations; the black-clad butler and his more colourfully garbed henchmen, who still wore the local, gaily embroidered costume, were already handing round trays of tall-stemmed glasses.