Shadow of Doom (15 page)

 

‘I do not think he is the easiest man to deceive,' purred Dias.

‘Easy or not, I've hoodwinked him,' said Bane. ‘Palfrey thinks you're after the radium and are doing some gun-running on the side.'

‘Indeed,' said Dias. ‘Did you discourage the suggestion that I would deal in anything so lethal?'

‘I did not,' said Bane, who seemed supremely self-confident. ‘I told him that his guess was as good as mine.'

‘And what else?' asked Dias.

‘That I had sunk a lot of money in your schemes,' said Bane, ‘meaning the railroads and other development projects in South America, and I was afraid you were putting a big one across me. Palfrey thinks I'm checking on you.' He laughed again. ‘I'm not fooling, Dias. And it's time you and I got down to cases. I've seen the strength of your hand tonight. I like the look of it.'

‘I am
very
glad,' said Dias.

‘You did more business in an hour than I expected you to do in a week,' said Bane. All you need for bigger business are bigger cargoes. You can't get those cargoes without more support among the United Nations, I guess—surely, I can now see why you are so anxious to be treated as a friend by the State Department. Maybe I can manage that.'

Dias said softly: ‘For what consideration, my friend?'

‘A quarter cut on profits,' Bane said.

‘That is not unreasonable,' said Dias, and Stefan thought that he sounded relieved. ‘I hope we can reach an understanding, Mr. Bane; I shall be able to tell you whether we can before long.'

‘What's stopping us?' asked Bane.

‘I want a little more information,' said Dias. ‘I think it will be available very shortly. You will have no objection, I am sure, if I stay here for a short time?'

‘Suit yourself,' said Bane.

Most men would have found it wearisome, would have shifted their weight from one leg to the other, but Stefan stood like a statue, not even turning his head. Twenty minutes had passed since he had spoken to Palfrey, and Palfrey would soon be here.

What was Dias waiting for?

Was Bane as confident as he sounded?

The silence was broken abruptly by the ringing of a telephone bell, the bell in the room where Stefan was standing. It had hardly started before he moved behind the door and stood with his back pressed against it, ready to go into action, but the door did not open any further. There was an extension telephone in the bedroom.

Dias answered the telephone, and Bane protested:

‘That call's for me.'

‘I do not think it is, my friend,' said Dias. He changed from English to Spanish, and Stefan had some difficulty in following what he said, but he did not say a great deal; he listened. There was a noticeable increase in the tension in the room. Bane's feet moved back, his hand disappeared; he was probably ready to get to his feet.

Dias spoke again, and replaced the receiver.

He stood up and moved within Stefan's line of vision.

‘So, Mr. Bane, you
deceived
Palfrey? He thinks I am looking for the radium, with arms as a sideline.
Very
convincing! But, you see, I had a man listening to your conversation, I have had a man able to hear what is said in that house, and
he has reported the real conversation you had with Palfrey.
'
There was a short, tense pause. Then, ‘Juan, your gun!' said Dias.

Bane leapt to his feet.

Stefan flung open the door, sent it crashing back against the wall, saw Lozana swing round with the gun already in his hand, but pointing towards a corner, between Bane and Stefan. Stefan reached out, struck the gun-arm, and sent the gun flying to the floor. Bane was already at Dias's chair; Dias was half standing, but sank down when Bane thrust a hand at him. Lozana was backing away from Stefan, his eyes on the gun by the door.

Again the men fell silent. Lozana and Dias seemed dazed by the realisation that they had been outwitted.

Bane laughed. ‘Thanks, boy!' he said, and laughed again.

Dias said: ‘Bane, I warn you, if anything should happen to me, your life—'

‘I'll look after my life,' said Bane, cheerfully. He grinned across at Stefan. ‘I hoped Palfrey would have the sense to send someone after me, but I was beginning to think he trusted me too much. Sit down, Dias, you're going to remain sitting for a long time yet. And take your hand from your pocket!'

Dias said: ‘I have warned you.'

‘Oh, sure,' said Bane. ‘I—'

He broke off, for there were sounds in the passage, footsteps, hushed voices, sounds which would probably not have been heard but for a thud when a man stumbled. Dias looked eagerly towards the door. Lozana made a furtive movement towards the gun. Stefan kicked it further away, and raised his clenched hand. Lozana stopped where he was.

The door from the passage opened.

Stefan spread out his fingers, thrust his hand against Lozana's chest and sent him sprawling backwards, then turned and looked into the outer room. There were de Morency and Charles. Charles rubbing his knee and looking rueful, de Morency hopeful.

‘Trouble, my friend?' he called.

‘Not serious trouble,' said Stefan, easily. ‘I think we have turned the tables on Dias very well. You were quick. Where is Sap?'

‘Downstairs,' said de Morency.

‘I think he would like to come up here,' said Stefan. ‘Charles, will you go?'

‘Okay,' said Charles.

He hurried along the passage, saw the chair against which he had stumbled still standing further from the wall than was safe, stooped down to move it out of his path – and as he did so a door next to Bane's opened, and a man came through. Charles caught a glimpse of him, saw his upraised hand, half-turned and opened his lips to cry out – and then felt a blow on the side of the head – painful and heavy. He went down without a murmur, the only sound the thud as his body hit the floor.

A girl joined the man.

‘Watch,' he said to her. He turned and went to Bane's door, and stood outside it, listening intently. It was the Dutchman who had been with Dias and Lozana on the platform at the meeting. He still held the weapon with which he had knocked Charles out – a heavy bludgeon. He put his hand to his pocket and drew out an automatic – and then he pushed open the door. As he did so two more men appeared from the room from which he had come.

He stood aside.

‘Softly,' he whispered.

They stepped through and crept silently across the room. The inner door was ajar, they could hear de Morency talking to Stefan. The gunmen stood on either side of the door, and the Dutchman slowly pushed it further open.

De Morency cried: ‘Stefan, behind you!'

The door crashed back, and the Dutchman ran into the room straight at Stefan. The others followed him, their guns raised. For a moment only Stefan and the Dutchman were moving, and Stefan thrust out his hands. His reach was enormous. The Dutchman reeled back, as if he had come up against a solid wall. Lozana darted for the gun on the floor, Dias pushed Bane aside and heaved himself up from his chair.

Bane looked into the muzzle of an automatic, and stood quite still. De Morency made a move towards Dias, and one of the men at the door shot him, at a few yards' range. The bullet entered his chest. De Morency fell back, the blood rushing from his mouth. He tried to get his hand to his pocket for his gun, but failed. The Dutchman came at Stefan again, and this time ran into a punch which lifted him off his feet. As Stefan turned towards the gunmen, Dias rushed behind him and raced for the door.

Bullets went over Stefan's head as he ducked.

Lozana reached the door behind Dias, the two silent gunmen hesitated on the threshold, and Dias snapped:

‘Shoot Bane—shoot Bane!'

Bane flung himself to the side of the room, behind the door, as two belated shots rang out. By then voices were raised in the nearby rooms, someone was banging on the wall in the next room. The gunmen withdrew as swiftly and silently as they had entered; Dias and Lozana raced along the passage with their heads down, trying to avoid recognition. At the end of the passage, looking down into the narrow hall alongside the stairs, was a girl – Muriel.

She said, ‘That way,' and pointed along a second passage, leading to the back of the hotel. Dias turned and raced along it, moving with remarkable speed for such a heavy man, but not trying to run silently. Lozana pegged along behind him, and the girl withdrew, disappeared into a room and closed the door. By then the whole floor was in uproar, doors were opening, men appeared in the passage and scared women peered from behind them. Two women were not so scared, and were actually the first to enter the passage. Everyone seemed to be talking at the same time.

Palfrey appeared on the landing, with a night-porter behind him, protesting volubly. Charles was on the stairs, dazed but conscious, Erikson and Bruton were in the hall. People were beginning to come down the stairs from the second floor, others appeared in the hall itself, there was a surging mass of excited people, all demanding to know what had happened.

He pushed his way towards Bane's room, afraid of what he would find. Charles tagged along behind, a rather embarrassed Charles, who disliked being the centre of such a scene.

As Palfrey went in he saw Stefan bending over de Morency in the inner room, and Bane standing at the telephone in the outer room, banging the receiver up and down. He looked across at Palfrey and said: ‘It's your French friend, in a bad way. Hallo, there—give me the hospital and give it me quick!'

Palfrey joined Stefan.

He caught a glimpse of the big Dutchman, still huddled up on the floor.

De Morency was unconscious. Palfrey saw the blood on his shirt-front. Stefan had already padded the wound.

Palfrey felt his pulse, held his wrist for what seemed a long time, and then straightened up.

‘I don't think we'll save him,' he said.

Stefan said: ‘It was at such short range, there was no chance to avoid it.' Charles stared wide-eyed at de Morency. Palfrey went to the Dutchman on the floor, examined him, looked round and found Stefan staring at him gravely.

Palfrey said: ‘You hit him, didn't you?'

‘Yes.'

‘It was just a little too hard,' said Palfrey, and pointed to the man's neck. It was bent in an odd position; the neck was broken.

 

There had been another interview with the Chief of Police, who remained friendly and helpful although he had been dragged out again in the middle of the night. Bane had told most of the story at first: how he had been set upon by ruffians, how Stefan had come to his rescue, how the others had attacked Stefan. Palfrey and Stefan had supported his story; for the time being it was much better that the police did not have an official complaint against Dias and Lozana. The dead Dutchman was not known to the police.

They walked to the front door, which Anna opened for them, and Charles seemed to forget for a moment his distress and the horror of what had happened,
for Anna was smiling a welcome.
He looked at her curiously. Even Palfrey was startled at the change in her.

The men were eating toast and scrambled egg when Drusilla came down, fresh, bright-eyed, anxious for news. Charles watched her as Palfrey told her what had happened to de Morency, and he pushed his plate away from him, got up and hurried out of the room. Drusilla looked after him in startled surprise.

‘I am probably quite wrong,' said Stefan, ‘and yet I must admit that I am worried about Charles. I do not like his curious manner, he follows us about rather like a dog at heel, he shows a deep affection for Anna, perhaps
too
deep, for she is not beautiful. It may be pretence. If it were Drusilla, now!' He paused while he ate and drank, and then went on: ‘Dias learned exactly what was said here to Bane.'

Palfrey put his knife and fork down.

‘Everything,' said Stefan, ‘Bane had told him a different story; I do not think that we need fear that Bane is against us, Sap, he did his best to mislead Dias. Then came a telephone call. It was someone who could, perhaps, speak Spanish – at least, Dias spoke Spanish to the speaker, but he may have used a different language from the caller's to try to baffle Bane, who could hear what he said. That does not greatly matter. What matters is that if Dias had not been told the truth, the shooting would not have started then. Bane had succeeded, I think, in quietening Dias's fears.'

‘What did Dias say?' asked Palfrey.

‘That he had someone who could overhear all that was said in the house,' said Stefan. ‘Now he certainly
did
learn what was said here. Charles might have telephoned—or given a message to someone else. Was Charles in here all the time. Sap?'

 

 

‘Yes,' said Palfrey, ‘he was here all the time. I don't think he could have got out of bed and gone downstairs to the telephone without waking me. I hadn't been asleep for ten minutes before your call came, and he was fast asleep then.'

‘What chance did he have on the way from here to the hotel?' asked Stefan.

‘Some slight chance,' said Palfrey. ‘He lost his way. He found us again just after Raoul and I had come into the hall. I sent him up with Raoul.'

‘Yes, I know,' said Stefan. ‘While with Raoul he was careless enough to kick against a chair. It might have given warning to the men who came and attacked us.'

Drusilla said: ‘Someone
could
have been lurking outside.' ‘Dias would not have been so sure that he would learn all that was said,' said Stefan, ‘if it were because he had an eavesdropper outside the windows. And that eavesdropper would have been seen by the police. Don't you agree?'

‘There's one rather significant thing, though. The old gardener lives here and sleeps in a small room by the kitchen,' said Palfrey. ‘We hardly ever see him about. When he is seen, he isn't heard—he walks remarkably softly. You'll have noticed it. He did nothing at all for Anna when the couple who first came here attacked her. I thought it curious then. Anna convinced me that there was nothing surprising in it, he's supposed to be dull-witted, but she might be deceived by him.'

‘Shall we question him?' asked Stefan, in a voice that suggested that Palfrey would not agree to the course.

‘Not yet,' said Palfrey. ‘Watch him, that's all. And watch Charles. No, I don't like it,' he said, and stifled a yawn. ‘I'd better go to bed. So had you. Give us a call if there's any kind of alarm, 'Silla.'

He went upstairs to his room and found Charles sitting dejectedly on the side of the bed, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

‘Hallo, old chap,' said Palfrey. ‘Not in bed yet?' Charles said: ‘It's the very devil, Sap! I've known almost from the start what you think about her, and yet—well, I can't help it! It's crazy, I know all about that, and yet I can't do anything about it. I've tried—
how
I've tried! I've followed Anna about because she reminds me of her, but—'

His voice broke. He kicked off his shoes, got up, and went to the window.

‘Who, Charles?' Palfrey asked.

Charles swung round. ‘
Muriel!
'

Palfrey drew in his breath, but just saved himself from exclaiming in amazement.

Charles said: ‘It's impossible for you to understand, I don't understand myself, but in London when Muriel came into the room after—after I'd had such a basting, something happened to me. I know that you think she is one of the mob—perhaps she is, but it doesn't make any difference to what I
feel.
I suppose it would have been all right if I hadn't seen her with Bane the other day, using a different name. That seemed to prove that you were right. It's so—so incredible!' cried Charles. ‘She matters to me, Palfrey. I—I can't think of anything else, most of the time I'm obsessed with it. I have to give myself a kick to wake up. I've been following you around like—like a lapdog, you must have thought I was as witless as a crab, but there it was. Anna—well, Anna
is
like her. Not in her appearance so much, although there is a likeness. It's her manner. She's so quiet. She looks as if she's carrying a devil of a burden, and—and—well, I don't see Anna walking about, I see Muriel.'

Palfrey said: ‘What brought it to a head, Charles?'

Charles said: ‘I saw her tonight. At the hotel. As I was going up with de Morency. That's what made me kick the chair. She was looking out of a room near Bane's. She closed the door pretty sharply when she saw me; I only just caught a glimpse of her. Then, when I was coming for you, as I turned round when that beggar went for me, I saw her again. She was coming out of the room. She is one of them, there isn't any doubt about that now.'

 

They slept until late afternoon.

There was roast beef for dinner; a special occasion, said Anna, and smiled serenely. Palfrey wondered whether it had been bought on the Black Market. The thing was beginning to haunt him. He said nothing of it to Anna, but afterwards went upstairs to van Doorn, who was sitting in an easy chair by the fireplace. By then it was dark, and there was only a dim table-lamp by which to read. The fire was of logs.

Van Doorn put down a heavy book.

‘You are very welcome, Palfrey.' His voice was regaining its strength, he was a different man from the wreck who had been brought back to the house. ‘Do you make much progress, my friend?'

‘More than there appears, I hope,' said Palfrey.

‘Do you expect to stay here long?'

‘No,' said Palfrey. ‘We'll soon be moving on.' He talked of various things, only a little of Dias; he discussed the condition of the masses of the people, and turned the subject unobtrusively towards food. From there to Black Marketing was a simple step.

Van Doorn did not seem as affected by it as Palfrey expected.

‘Yes, of course there is an extensive Black Market, my friend. What else can you expect? For years we kept the food away from the Germans whenever we could, we built up a secondary market, encouraged by you. It was a brave thing to do, and certainly not a crime in those days. Now many people are operating it who have not the best interests of the country at heart, but can you be surprised that those who have money buy on it?'

‘I suppose not,' said Palfrey.

‘It is not of alarming proportions in Holland,' van Doorn said, with some satisfaction, ‘but it is large enough. I do not think there is any hope of stamping it out this winter. Next, perhaps, if we have a good season in Europe. You see, Palfrey,' he went on, with quiet dignity, ‘we are now so much more dependent on good imports. With so much land lost, ruined for four or five years to come, we must depend on those imports, and there is bound to be some illegal activity.' He smiled gently. ‘I see you condemn me, my friend, for not being more shocked. I do not consider myself an enemy of Holland, and yet—often I would have been on the point of starvation, I think perhaps I would have lost Anna, had I not bought on the Black Market. We still do,' he added, simply. ‘I talk to you confidentially, as a friend.'

Palfrey said: ‘Yes, of course. Was Laander an operator?'

‘He would see that his friends were well supplied,' said van Doorn, ‘but I do not believe that he would ever make a profit out of his friends.'

Palfrey said: ‘Does it affect the Government?'

‘I do not think the Government would condone it,' said van Doorn, ‘but it exists, and the truth is that without it there would not be the supplies available that there are today.' He stretched out his hand, took a box of cigars from the dressing-table, and said: ‘These, now, were bought on the Black Market; Anna had them here for me yesterday. Yours were lost—and I have never thanked you enough for them!'

‘I wish you'd smoked more of them,' said Palfrey, absently. ‘No, no thanks. I'll have a cigarette.' He watched the Dutchman pierce the end of a half-Corona, and saw that it was a brand well known in England. Had they come from England? Was Bane right when he said that many English firms were operating illegally on the European market? If so, how?

‘You are still angry,' said van Doorn.

‘Angry?' said Palfrey. ‘Good lord, no! I just don't agree that it's necessary. Or good.'

‘You don't live here,' said van Doorn. ‘Of one thing I am sure, my friend. When you left England, knowing that you would not be sure how long you would be on the Continent, you brought ample supplies of food with you. Is that not so?'

‘Yes,' said Palfrey.

Van Doorn shrugged his shoulders. ‘You see?'

‘I think I see,' said Palfrey.

The talk depressed him. He did see, only too clearly. The Black Market had come to be accepted, it was respectable to buy on it, not a thing of shame, even for otherwise law-abiding people. There was no way of convincing even a man like van Doorn of the innate evil in it, because van Doorn had lived so long in a country where there would have been starvation for him and his family but for the Black Market.

He was glad when Drusilla called upstairs: ‘Telephone, Sap!'

Palfrey hurried downstairs, and Drusilla said: ‘It's Bane.'

‘Hallo, State Department,' said Palfrey, more brightly than he felt.

‘You must be feeling a heap better,' said Bane, dryly. ‘I wonder if you will be for long. Dias has left Rotterdam.'

‘Are you sure?' asked Palfrey, sharply.

‘Yes. He flew to Berlin this morning. He is there now.'

Palfrey said: ‘Where did you get your information?'

Bane laughed. ‘From the American Occupation authorities, and it's reliable. What are you going to do about it?'

‘Go after him,' said Palfrey.

‘That's fine,' said Bane. ‘I'll come with you.'

‘I don't expect to leave until tomorrow,' said Palfrey.

‘Meaning you don't want me in your party,' said Bane, after a pause. ‘Please yourself, Palfrey. But I hope we shall work together, we've had trouble enough on our own. And I'm not forgetful, you know.'

‘Of what?'

‘The fact that Andromovitch saved me from a bullet,' said Bane, laconically. ‘I wouldn't be travelling to Berlin or any place if he hadn't. I'll be seeing you.'

He rang off.

Palfrey replaced the receiver, pulled at the short hair at the top of his head, tried unsuccessfully to wind it round his finger, and then drew his hand away sharply.

He was wondering whether Bane had got his information quite as simply as he said.