Shadow of Doom (23 page)

Palfrey said: ‘I know that my wife is at Knudsen's house in Carlberg, and that Muriel has gone there.' Zukkor snapped: ‘Muriel,
there!
'
‘Why not?' demanded Palfrey.

‘Because she is known now as an enemy of Bane,' said Zukkor, suddenly harsh. ‘There was the affair near the North Bridge, a man was caught, he has confessed—confessed much. He was watching the house and saw this Muriel, afterwards saw her leave with you. He told others, who have escaped to warn Bane and Knudsen, so they will know. We must lose no time.' Palfrey said: ‘Don't be too hasty, General.' The words sounded trite, but they made Zukkor wait with impatient expectancy. ‘I think I'd better go ahead,' said Palfrey. ‘They may know she betrayed them, they aren't likely to know that the police are against them. A private visit is indicated—don't you think?'

‘I do not understand you,' said Zukkor. ‘There is danger enough for your wife and the girl. Indeed there is! Why should you make danger for yourself, also?'

‘To learn more,' said Palfrey. ‘Bruton and I, they believe, are still wanted for murder. We will not, therefore, dare to approach the police. We will be likely to attempt a rescue on our own, perhaps with a few friends such as Neilsen. And of course we will be caught. Bane and Knudsen will waste no time, I think, but Dias will gloat—and talk. We may learn everything, and we don't know everything yet.'

Zukkor growled: ‘I do not like it, Doctor. I was requested by the Marquis of Brett to make sure that you were not hurt. And yet there is much in what you say.' He turned to the Chief of Police and spoke rapidly in Swedish. ‘Will it be possible to surround the house without being seen, and so allow the Doctor some time inside?'

‘Yes,' said the Chief of Police, briefly.

Zukkor clapped his hands together.

‘Then go, my friends!' He smiled at Palfrey, Stefan and Bruton, and then looked a little uncertainly at Charles.

‘I'm in this,' said Charles, briskly.

 

 

‘How do we start?' whispered Charles.

‘We break in,' said Bruton, laconically.

They were in the grounds of Knudsen's house, which was in complete darkness. Clouds had blown up during the last hour and the stars were obscured. There was rain in the wind, and it was bitterly cold.

They had left police headquarters two hours before and driven to within a short distance of the house. There they had left the car, and walked in single file up the hill to the front gates and along the drive, in silence but for the wind; Neilsen was with them; he had refused to withdraw at this stage, and alternating with his mental pictures of Drusilla Palfrey raw his own wife in his mind's eye. He could picture her in that charming house, waiting by the telephone …

The police had surrounded Knudsen's house. None was nearer than two hundred yards, and they were to close in after an hour, or whenever there was an earlier summons.

In spite of the darkness Palfrey could tell the lie of the land. Great pines towered above the roof-tops, the grounds were filled with shrubberies, and there was a belt of trees surrounding the house; there was no easier place to approach without being seen.

Was the house guarded?

Palfrey had little doubt that it was, but questioned whether there would be guards posted outside the grounds. That ring of trees afforded ample cover, and since the house was on a hill quick warning could be sent to the men inside.

Their footsteps made little sound on the smooth drive. At first they groped their way forward step by step, but as they drew nearer to the house they saw chinks of light at the sides of the windows, and grew more accustomed to the darkness. The sighing of the wind was in their ears all the time, and drowned all other sounds. Now and again Palfrey, who was immediately behind Neilsen, thought he saw a shadowy figure flit across their path, or walk alongside them. There was the possibility of a sudden outbreak of shooting, and the tension rose with every step they took.

Neilsen touched Palfrey's hand. In turn Palfrey touched Stefan's and the warning gesture was passed back to Bruton, who brought up the rear. They were close to the steps which led to the front door, and also to a path surrounding the house. Neilsen groped forward for the bottom step. They went up slowly, reached the path, and saw a lighted window, a little to their left.

They walked past it, able to move more freely, for up here the wind was boisterous, and they could hear it whistling noisily through the pines.

Neilsen stopped again. They were by the window of an unlighted room.

Their plans had been laid with great care. Bruton, the expert at forcing doors and opening windows, came to the front and explored, using the pencil torch. The thin beam of light seemed very bright. He took a long time, but at last they heard the click of the latch—the windows were of the sashcord type. They stopped, listening breathlessly; it was hard to realise that they
wanted
to be caught. Palfrey's heart was thumping as he waited and before it had settled down Bruton said: ‘Okay, Sap.'

He pushed the window up. There was little noise, only a squeak when it started to move. Then Bruton shone the torch inside. There was a chair standing with its back to the window. He pushed it gently to one side, and it scraped on wooden boards. They paused again, but there was no indication that they had been heard.

Bruton climbed through.

They followed him one after the other, and then Bruton closed the window and walked across the room, guided by the light of his torch. It was eerie and unnerving. Any moment the door might burst open and they might be attacked, but the silence remained unbroken. Except for the evidence of the lighted rooms they would have thought the house was empty.

The door creaked; there was a dim light in the passage beyond. Bruton stepped through it, Palfrey followed, and they went towards the more shadowy part of the long, L-shaped hall.

Lights flashed on!

There seemed to be a dozen of them, at their side and above their heads – bright dazzling lights which blinded them, and even had they wanted to escape detection they would not have had a chance. As they stood there, trying to see against that dazzling brilliance, men appeared on the stairs, in the front hall and on either side, through doorways which had been in darkness.

And there, by the foot of the stairs, was Señor Fernandez y Dias, with Lozana near him. On the stairs behind him were Bane and Knudsen. Bane was grinning, Knudsen smiling broadly, and Dias seemed beside himself with delight. His hands were raised as if he were giving them his blessing, his eyes shone, even his cheeks were glowing.

‘My dear Dr. Palfrey, how welcome! How good of you to come so far to seek me out. And to bring your friends—how
very
gracious of you! Perhaps now you will be prepared to go on that most comfortable journey to the wife of the President?'

Palfrey did not speak.

‘Come, my friend,' said Dias, advancing a step, ‘surely you are not
surprised
to see me here? Nor to find us waiting for you? Have you ever reflected, my dear doctor, on the psychology of races? The English and the North American have remarkably similar traits—remarkably similar. They can be relied on always to make great sacrifices for the sake of their ladies! We expected you, my friend. Our invitation could hardly have been written more plainly.'

‘I see,' said Palfrey.

‘And although the younger woman is reluctant to speak,' Dias went on, ‘your good friend, your
so
good friend, Muriel, doubtless promised you help when you arrived. Unhappily for you, we learned in time that she was, after all, not so loyal as we had hoped. You see, we had to force admission from her.'

He pointed towards an open door.

Palfrey turned, and the others looked in the same direction. There was a bright light in the room, and sitting just inside the doorway was Muriel. They hardly recognised her. She was strapped to a chair, her clothes were torn, her bare shoulders were criss-crossed with weals, her face was deathly white and her eyes were glassy with pain. They had not touched her face, but there was blood on the back of one of her hands.

Palfrey said heavily: ‘The old tricks, Dias.'

‘I am happy to tell you that in my country many of these tricks, as you call them, were originated,' said Dias. ‘You should be glad, Dr. Palfrey, that we have not treated your wife in the same way. She was not a traitor. But come—you will be most anxious to see her!' He led the way towards the room, and as he passed Muriel he slapped her face sharply.

‘Why you—' cried Charles.

He was the first of the party to move, and he went like an arrow from a bow towards Dias. Lozana shouted a warning, Palfrey and Stefan jumped forward to try to save him – but a shot rang out, and before he reached Dias Charles threw up his hands, then fell forward. As he fell his arms hit Muriel's knees; he did not fall to the floor but was supported by her, as if he were kneeling before her, begging her forgiveness.

Bane said: ‘Be careful, Palfrey.'

Palfrey ignored him, and was allowed to go to Charles and raise him up. Charles was conscious, and in a moment or two Palfrey found that the bullet had entered the fleshy part of his waist, and there was no danger. Stefan lifted him, carried him into the room and put him on a couch.

Dias had gone in first and Lozana and the other men followed, all showing their guns.

Drusilla was sitting in an easy chair in one corner of the room. She was not tied to it, and half rose as Palfrey appeared, but Dias said: ‘Keep still, Mrs. Palfrey, keep still.'

She sank back. Palfrey looked across at her, and wondered desperately how he could send her a message of reassurance – and whether, in fact, such a message was justified. This show of strength proved that Dias was taking no chances. Even when the police came it was not likely that many of those present would escape alive.

Palfrey bent over Charles.

‘Leave him,' said Dias.

Palfrey ignored the command, and Knudsen strode forward, gripped Palfrey's arm and swung him round. The Swede was still smiling; Palfrey wondered what he had ever seen in the man to remind him of Erikson.

‘Do as you're told,' Knudsen said.

‘I do not think that Dr. Palfrey and his friends are in a good temper,' purred Dias. ‘And it would, perhaps, be wise not to allow them to cause a further disturbance.'

What followed was obviously prearranged. Lozana struck Bruton, who was standing near him, with the butt end of his gun. Another man struck Neilsen. Charles was out of action in any case – only Stefan and Palfrey remained, and for a moment it looked as if Stefan's size was holding the men back from striking him. Then suddenly Knudsen kicked at his legs, Lozana sprang forward, a third man brought the butt of his gun heavily down on the back of Stefan's head. It was all done so quickly and with such ruthless precision that Palfrey, sick with anger, knew that Stefan had really had no chance.

Dias said: ‘Take them out.'

So he was not to be a victim yet, thought Palfrey.

He stood watching as they carried the unconscious men out – one struck Charles savagely when Charles lashed out with his fists – and when they had gone, three men carrying Stefan, Palfrey and Drusilla remained in the room with Dias, Bane, Lozana and Knudsen.

Muriel was there, too, pushed into a corner with her back to the others, her head lolling forward on her chest.

Palfrey said: ‘What good do you think this will do you?'

Dias rapped: ‘Much good! And I will have no insolence from you, Palfrey. Understand me. None of you will remain alive. It has all been planned, most carefully planned.
None
of you will live, and what I intend to learn from you is simple: have you sent reports to London?' He strode forward and gripped Palfrey's throat, and there was surprising strength in those podgy fingers ‘
Have you told London?
'

Palfrey said: ‘Yes. My report was posted.'

Dias released his hold and stepped back, startled, not expecting that prompt affirmative.

Bane laughed harshly. ‘Nothing can be proved.'

‘There was never a chance that you would get away with it,' said Palfrey. ‘Never a remote chance.'
Could
he goad them into talking?

‘You are wrong, Palfrey,' said Dias, but he looked at Palfrey uneasily, as if his confidence had been shaken. ‘You are quite wrong, Palfrey.'

‘Of course he's wrong,' said Bane.

Dias said: ‘We have protected ourselves well, Palfrey. You were sent to spy on us, the girl Muriel to spy on Bane, but we have protected ourselves
very
well. Bane, you see, will return to Washington and will report.
He
is not the leader, oh no!
He
has been doing the work which he volunteered to do, and what has he learned? Much, Palfrey! The woman Muriel betrayed her country, worked with rogues to the damnation of Europe—
she
did that, Palfrey. And who were the rogues? I ask you,
who
were they?'

Palfrey said nothing.

There was a glint in Dias's eyes now; his disquiet was all gone, he was carried away by his own oratory, by his triumph, by his gloating satisfaction.

Bane and Knudsen stood either side of him. Palfrey did not doubt that they were confident now, they believed that they had produced a satisfactory answer to every accusation. In his heart. Palfrey was afraid that they had …

‘One of them was the Englishman,
Anderson,
'
said Dias, gently now. ‘A great Englishman who loved money above all else, and who hated Russia. He would work for the downfall of unity among the great nations.' He sneered the words again. ‘The
great
nations! How best could that unity be disrupted, Palfrey? By spreading hunger and illness and discontent – hunger, illness, discontent! You fool!' he cried. ‘You and the leaders of your country, of Russia, of America—you fools! To think that you could win, to think that when the fighting stopped in Europe you would be allowed to win!
No,
Palfrey! The second battle is on! Hunger and starvation, a Europe devastated by illness, sickness which cannot be checked because the medical supplies are not available in quantities enough. You seek radium—you will never find it, it was taken from the hospitals, it was hidden where no man will ever find it, but that was only one small step, one
very
small step, Palfrey, one of dozens which we are taking. Black Market is another, a greater one. Shiploads of food go to those markets, shiploads of medical supplies founder. Europe is rife with intrigue, and that intrigue will get worse; distrust will spread among the three
great
nations of the world—distrust—enmity—hatred—and the future war will destroy your nations and destroy the flower of your manhood, this time beyond all hope of recovery, beyond all hope. Do you hear me, Palfrey? Do you hear me?'

Palfrey said: ‘Yes, Dias.'

The man's voice dropped. ‘You will be wise to listen well, you will not hear these words again. All this,
all
this we have done, the breaking down of the economy of the smaller countries through the Black Market, the spread of disease which cannot be arrested because of starvation and the lack of drugs—like the disappearance of your precious radium; even tonight the destruction of—'

Bane said: ‘Why tell him everything, Dias?'

Dias roared: ‘It will be good to see the horror in his eyes when he knows all the truth, when he sees, before he dies, the conflagration of a world disintegrated by atomic forces, when he realises that all he has done and others have done to end war is wasted effort, wasted, thrown away, because—because
some
men are loyal to an ideal!'

Bane spoke again. ‘He knows plenty now. There's only a little more he has to know. You've named me, Palfrey. I shall name Anderson. That's the trouble with Josh, he was always an easy man to handle.
He
turned against me, Palfrey, when he saw what I was planning with Dias, so I dealt with him. You fell for that one. He'll live—oh, he'll live, but he'll have no mind to think with, he'll be trained what to say. And he will say that he organised these shipments, naming men in America and England who had nothing to do with it. There will be a scandal like nothing you've known. Surely,' he added, speaking in a low-pitched drawling voice, ‘it will be some scandal, Palfrey. Big names brought down, competitors of mine—not bad! And for a while our shipments will stop, and Europe won't get over
this
coming winter. It will be the worst on record. The work's done. Palfrey, and you couldn't stop us.'