Wallace Intervenes (19 page)

He locked and bolted the door, then, from its place of concealment, drew out his make-up box and various articles, including crêpe hair and a wig. These were packed into a neat parcel, which was strapped to his person beneath his coat. A bulge was caused, but it was not too noticeable. Locking his suitcase again, he glanced once more round the room, still anxious to make certain that there had been no intruders during his absence. Satisfied, he went out cautiously, descending by the service stairs, and thus succeeding in avoiding observation. There were a good many waiters and other members of the staff about below, and he was forced to remain hidden for some time before he was able to emerge from the hotel without being seen. When eventually he left the building, he hurried by a circuitous route to the garage where Cousins awaited him, taking steps on the way to ascertain that he was not being shadowed. It was not that he had any expectation of anything of that nature, but too much depended now on his complete freedom of person and action to allow him to take the slightest risk.

He reached the garage. As he expected, it was deserted. It was a private place shared by three men, of whom Gottfried was one, and had the advantage of being secluded while actually in the very midst of one of Berlin’s business districts. The car which had taken him and Cousins to Potsdam had not been Gottfried’s, but one hired from the garage proprietor. There was always a possibility that it might have come under observation by someone connected with the authorities, and the number noted. If anything had gone wrong Gottfried therefore could not have been involved. Sir Leonard was always most particular to keep members of the firm
of
Lalére et Cie
from being concerned in anything that might bring them or the business house that cloaked their real activities under suspicion of being in any way connected with the British Secret Service.

He found Cousins and the driver in a small room that the latter rented above the garage in which the car had been locked. They greeted him with sighs expressive of their satisfaction at seeing him again. He partook of the refreshment his host had thoughtfully provided, and went more fully into his plans.

‘I have decided to dispense with the car, Reichmann,’ he declared. ‘It would be more of an encumbrance than a help on the job we are about to undertake. When we do use a car, the Supreme Marshal himself will have to provide one of his.’

The member of the association of guides looked disappointed. His face fell woefully.

‘Then you will not need me, sir?’ he murmured.

Sir Leonard smiled.

‘On the contrary, I certainly shall need you.’ Reichmann expressed his relief. ‘We will go now to von Strom’s house. Somehow or other, despite the strong guard with which we know he surrounds himself, we are going to get inside, and have a private chat with our friend. It is no use attempting to plan our entry now. Circumstances will have to show us the way. I hope also that we will be fortunate enough to catch him before he goes to bed. It might be awkward if we don’t. I have been thinking over the position, and it has occurred to me that there is too much risk connected with my previous intention of forcing him at the point of a revolver, to accompany us to Potsdam and order the release of the prisoners. I don’t think he lacks courage, and he might defy us when he is surrounded by his men, as he would be once inside the
Wannsee Prison. I have brought the necessary materials, therefore, to enable me to impersonate him. I’ll be the Marshal of State for the time being, but we’ll take him along with us gagged and bound, and hidden from sight, in order that there will be no danger of an alarm being raised while we are on the job.’

Cousins whistled long and thoughtfully, the guide Reichmann stared at Sir Leonard with wide-open mouth as though stupefied.

‘Good Lord!’ ejaculated the former. ‘What a scheme!’

‘It’s the only possible way of saving the two women as far as I can see,’ returned Wallace in calm, matter-of-fact tones. Had any stranger entered the room at that moment he would have imagined that the Chief of the British Secret Service was talking of a matter of little moment instead of a daring venture that would require the utmost nerve and resource. ‘Of course,’ went on the chief, ‘impersonating von Strom in the midst of a crowd of men who see him regularly, and are probably well acquainted with every gesture, every feature, and every shade of inflection in his voice is going to be a ticklish business. This, on the face of it, must appear as sheer lunacy. But none of the other ideas that have occurred to me hold out such hopes of success, and we shall have the living model to copy. It will be up to you, Cousins, to see that there is no flaw. I can’t say I am altogether looking forward to the ordeal. You haven’t thought of a better plan, I suppose?’

Cousins shook his head.

‘No, sir – nothing that has the same promise of success as that. But where do I come in? I can hardly accompany you as an Indian student.’

Sir Leonard smiled.

‘No; you can’t do that. We must see if we can find Nazi uniforms for you and Reichmann. I may require him to drive the car.’

Cousins laughed joyfully like a schoolboy, delighted at the prospect of a glorious adventure.

‘How shall we take von Strom with us, sir,’ he asked, ‘and yet keep him concealed?’

‘There are such things as luggage compartments on most cars nowadays,’ returned Sir Leonard. ‘I hope there is one attached to the motor we use and that it is roomy and airy. I should not like His Excellency to be cramped or suffocated.’

They found a belated taxicab and drove to the Konigs-Plats. There they dismissed it, walking the rest of the way to von Strom’s residence. The nearer they drew to his great mansion the more cautious became their progress. The square in which it stood was practically deserted, but from the seclusion of a thick group of trees they could see the numerous sentries marching up and down before the great iron railings or standing on guard at the gates. Lamp standards every few yards threw a radiance of light on the scene which in one way was helpful, but otherwise disconcerting. To enter such a place secretly seemed well-nigh impossible, but the word ‘impossible’ has no place in Sir Leonard’s vocabulary. He studied the building in silence for some time. A small gate at the extreme left of the railings attracted most of his attention. It stood open, and a sentry was stationed to one side of it. A few yards from it was a large chestnut tree. He decided that their entry should be
made at that point. Whispering instructions to his followers, he made a wide detour, crossing the square some distance away, and avoiding the light as much as possible. In single file, and treading without a sound, they gradually approached the tree until they stood behind it.

Sir Leonard gazed reflectively at the lamp throwing its powerful illumination on the gate and the sentry box. If he could cause it to fail the neighbourhood would be thrown into darkness, and make it fairly easy for them to enter the courtyard. A shot would have the desired effect, but a shot would bring the guard to the spot in double quick time, and put a complete end to their hopes. No; it was out of the question to extinguish the light. By some means or other the sentry’s attention must be diverted. He bent down and, to his satisfaction, found several small stones at the base of the tree. He picked up two or three, bidding his companions do the same. They then proceeded to throw them at regular intervals some yards beyond the sentry.

As the first fell lightly to the ground, the man grew rigidly on the alert. Glancing round the tree, Sir Leonard saw that he was staring in the direction from which the sound had come. Another and another stone followed; then came the rattle of a rifle as it was shouldered. The sentry, as Wallace had hoped, marched to the place whence the noise appeared to come. Directly his back was turned, the three sped like shadows across the intervening space, and succeeded in passing through the gate. They reached the deeper darkness surrounding a linden tree; stood there with every sense acutely on the alert, hardly daring to breathe. But no alarm was raised; they had entered without being seen. Reichmann, who was unused to such ventures, gave vent to a great sigh of relief, which was immediately stifled by Cousin’s hand.

‘Be quiet!’ whispered the little man. ‘This courtyard is patrolled by police. There may be one or two close by.’

He had hardly spoken when they heard the measured tramp of feet, and two shadowy forms passed by a few yards away. They waited until the sound had died in the distance; then, running on tiptoe, and with Sir Leonard leading the way, they reached a side entrance of the building, and stood safely under the portico. The chief had noticed that this was the only one in darkness, the other doors, visible from the square, all being illuminated. So far everything had gone well. It now remained for them to enter the house. Obeying instructions, Cousins produced from somewhere on his person, a case of finely-tempered steel instruments. Selecting one of these, he quickly had the door unlocked, but it would not move.

‘Bolted!’ he muttered tersely.

Bolts, however, were not impossible obstacles to men who had, of necessity, become expert at opening all sorts and conditions of doors and windows. Once the bolts were located, Cousins worked silently and skilfully, using a long, slender instrument with a gripping, curved end. The operation took some time and when Sir Leonard heard a clock in the distance strike one, he whispered to his assistant to hurry. At length the job was done and muttering a fervent hope to himself that no burglar alarm was connected, Cousins slowly and silently pushed open the door. It was at that moment that they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Another police patrol was coming. Sir Leonard drew his automatic ready, if discovered, to take the aggressive, but the man went by, greatly to his relief. He had no wish to risk an encounter with any of the guard if such could be avoided. A moment later the three of them
were inside the house. The door was shut, locked, and bolted again, and, in place of his case of steel implements, Cousins now held a revolver in his hand. Reichmann was unarmed, and was instructed to keep close behind the chief, the little Secret Service man bringing up the rear.

His faculty of being able to see quite well in the dark now stood Sir Leonard in good stead, for he was reluctant to use his torch. He had led the way unerringly along a narrow passage, which presently broadened out into a wide corridor. While in the square, he had noted light issuing from two windows on the first floor. It was his object to reach the room or rooms in which the electricity burnt, hopeful that inside he would find His Excellency at work. They passed several rooms, all in darkness, before emerging into a large, lofty hall adjoining the main door. The light from outside illumined the place, showing them a broad staircase ascending to the upper regions. Without hesitation and in the same order as before, they went up. The corridor above was in darkness, but after traversing several passages, they came to a corner where light was dimly diffused from a lamp, apparently some distance away. Sir Leonard glanced cautiously round; almost immediately drew back. He had found himself looking along a gallery lighted by a single electric globe half way along. Sitting in a chair close to a shut door, and almost directly under the lamp, was a man in Nazi uniform. He appeared to be dozing. The Chief of the British Secret Service was not disconcerted. On the contrary he felt quite a glow of satisfaction. The presence of the man in the chair suggested that von Strom was up and working in the room outside which the orderly was sitting. He stole another look. The Nazi’s head was bent forward, his eyes closed. He was not
a very vigilant attendant, which was all to the good. If he could be approached without alarming him, it might be possible to overcome him without causing a disturbance. It was a pity they would be forced to encumber themselves with an additional prisoner, but it could not be helped. Sir Leonard retreated a few yards, and, putting his automatic in his pocket, asked Cousins for his revolver.

‘Your Nazi uniform is along that corridor,’ he whispered to Reichmann. ‘Mr Cousins and I are going to get it for you. Remain here until we come back.’

The guide eyed him in puzzled fashion, but nodded. Sir Leonard whispered to Cousins to follow him and be ready to prevent the Nazi from falling noisily to the floor when rendered unconscious. The chief regretted the necessity that would force him to stun the man, but did not care to risk pointing a revolver at him and ordering him to be silent. The fellow would quite likely dare being shot to raise the alarm. Creeping round the corner, and keeping close to the wall, the pair gradually approached the unsuspecting man, who still dozed on. They were within a few paces of him, when he suddenly stirred and looked up. For a fraction of a second his eyes encountered those of Sir Leonard. He appeared momentarily stupefied; then his mouth opened to cry out. The butt end of the revolver wielded with scientific precision, descended on his head with a soft but sickening thud. Without a sound he sagged forward, Cousins catching his body and preventing it from sliding to the floor. He supported it in his arms, while he and his chief listened intently to make certain that no alarm had been caused in the room.

Satisfied that all was well, Wallace sent Cousins back to fetch Reichmann, he himself keeping a hold on the senseless figure in
the chair. The little man quickly returned with the other, and they were directed to carry the Nazi to the end of the corridor. Round the corner Sir Leonard ordered them to strip the man of his uniform.

‘He is about your size, Reichmann,’ he whispered, ‘which is fortunate. Later we shall have to disguise you. It won’t do for you to be recognised, or not only will your usefulness in Berlin be gone, but you will probably lose your life as well. I don’t know quite what we are going to do about a uniform for you, Cousins. I doubt if there is a Nazi on the staff here so small. You’re a problem. However, quite a minor one.’ He smiled.

The unconscious man was quickly divested of his clothing. Reichmann discarded his own outer garments and donned the uniform. It proved an excellent fit. When that was done, Cousins was sent to search for materials with which to bind and gag the Nazi. He was gone for several minutes, and Sir Leonard began to grow anxious lest von Strom who, he firmly believed, was in the room, should emerge or summon the orderly. However, the little Secret Service man came back at length armed with a tablecloth and several napkins. He had discovered the dining room from where he had abstracted the articles. The German was gagged and bound with scientific thoroughness, after which, he was carried along the corridor, and placed in a room almost opposite the apartment in which they presumed von Strom to be at work. Cousins had glanced in during his search to find it an office apparently used by clerks of the household. Deserted at that hour, of course, it would do as a temporary prison for the orderly. Reichmann’s clothing was also placed inside, and the door closed. The guide was then told to sit in the German’s chair, and keep watch.

Sir Leonard bent down and endeavoured to look through the
keyhole of the Marshal’s room, but the key was in the way, and he could see nothing. He stood with his automatic in his hand – the revolver had been handed back to its owner – while Cousins softly turned the handle. At a word from his chief, the little man suddenly swung the door open, and stepped aside. Sir Leonard entered at once. He found himself in a large room furnished, not elaborately but quite comfortably, as a library. In the centre of the apartment was a large desk, almost covered with books and documents. Behind it sat a man. The Supreme Marshal of State!

He looked up in startled fashion at Sir Leonard’s entry and, as it dawned on him, that here was a complete stranger, sprang to his feet. The sight of the automatic held steadily pointed at him, caused him to pale a little, but he showed no sign of fear. For a moment the two stared straight at each other, but those cold, steel grey eyes of Sir Leonard’s were too much for von Strom. His gaze flickered and fell. Then abruptly he recovered from his surprise.

‘Who are you, sir,’ he demanded in harsh, angry tones, ‘and how did you come here?’

‘That hardly matters,’ drawled Sir Leonard. ‘I am here, and it is quite sufficient to concern you for the present. Sit down, and keep your hands above the desk.’

Von Strom took no notice of the order. He remained standing, his eyes flashing fiercely.

‘You will suffer severely for this,’ he stormed. ‘Do you think you can enter in a manner so threatening the private apartment of the Supreme Marshal of Germany, and escape without severe punishment?’

‘I have no time to bandy unnecessary words with you,’ retorted the Englishman. ‘As you see, I have the advantage of you. If this little weapon happens to go off, the Chancellor will be forced
to look for a new Marshal. That will be sad for you, will it not? Though doubtless of great benefit to Germany. However, I do not intend to shoot you unless you force me to take such a drastic course. Sit down!’

‘Do you think I fear that stupid weapon?’ snarled the other.

‘Yes,’ was the calm retort. ‘You would hardly be human if you did not. Few of us wish to die, least of all you, bloated with power and ambition.’

‘You fool!’ snapped the Marshal. ‘Within call are a hundred men who, at a word from me, would tear you to pieces. What is to prevent my summoning them?’

‘This,’ replied Wallace, nodding at the automatic. He slowly approached the desk. ‘Sit down,’ he repeated sternly. For a while von Strom defied him, but his resolution was not proof against the grim little weapon pointed so unwaveringly at his head, and presently, with an oath, he sank back into his chair. ‘Ah! That’s better,’ commented the disguised Englishman. ‘Now we can talk. There is quite a lot to discuss. Keep your hands together on the desk. That’s right. Thank you.’

Cousins had entered behind his chief, and, closing the door, remained standing with his back to it, his revolver swinging loosely in his hand. Von Strom, whose attention had hitherto been centred on the florid faced man with the automatic, now seemed to become aware of the second intruder for the first time. He frowned in rank astonishment.

‘An Indian!’ he ejaculated. ‘What is the meaning of this theatrical display?’

‘I am glad you can look upon it in such a light,’ observed Sir Leonard cheerfully. ‘You have certainly come quite near the mark, as far as my friend and I are concerned. But there is no time to
waste. I have a lot to do, and quite a lot to say. Today you caused two young women to undergo the humiliation of a farcical trial for treason – I refer to the Baroness von Reudath and Fraulein Reinwald.’ Von Strom gasped audibly. He leant forward, and studied the speaker’s face intently. ‘There are no words expressive of the foul manner in which you have behaved,’ continued Sir Leonard sternly. ‘The so-called trial had not an atom of justice or mercy in it. From first to last it was evident that the judges and attorneys for both sides had received their orders. They obeyed them only too well. These two poor girls have been condemned to be beheaded at sunrise, and all because
you
were scorned by one of them whom you could not bend to your will.’ Von Strom spat out a forcible exclamation and half rose to his feet. ‘Sit down!’ snapped Sir Leonard, and the automatic was again raised threateningly.

The Marshal sank back, and looked round him with the suggestion of a hunted expression in his eyes. The Englishmen, watching him intently, were rather pleased to note that he had turned a little pale. It seemed that he was not quite so brave as he pretended to be. Perhaps his conscience, if he possessed one, was troubling him a little, perhaps he read nemesis in the cold eyes of the man confronting him.