Wallace Intervenes (22 page)

‘So!’ exclaimed the Nazi colonel, ‘I am in the presence of the famous head of the British Secret Service! I am honoured to meet you, sir, but I may tell you that if it was known in this country who you are, your life would not be worth a snap of the fingers.’

‘I am quite well aware of that,’ nodded Sir Leonard, adding with a smile: ‘I hope your promise includes keeping my identity secret.’

Schönewald shrugged his shoulders.

‘“In for a penny, in for a pound,” as you English would say. I shall not give you away as you know.’ He turned and smiled a trifle quizzically at Foster. ‘So you were connected with the British Secret Service after all? If I may be permitted to say so, you hoodwinked us all rather neatly. There is not much of the fool about you, Foster.’

The car glided between the gates, the pugilistic-looking custodian bowing himself almost to the ground. Outside, Sir Leonard beckoned on the saloon, which immediately followed. In that order they travelled for two or three miles; then, when well in the park, the order was given to stop.

‘I know that you must be exceedingly anxious to be reunited with the baroness,’ observed Wallace to Foster, ‘and to hear all she has to tell you. I can’t allow you any more than ten minutes, I’m afraid. Still I don’t suppose that will matter since you have your lives before you. Wait here!’

He left the car and walking to the other, invited the baroness to step out. For a moment she and Foster confronted each other; then with a cry of utter happiness, and quite forgetful of the onlookers, she was in his arms. Sir Leonard turned away.

‘That’s that,’ he murmured in a tone of great satisfaction.

Sophie and Bernard presently wandered away among the trees, anxious like all lovers to spend their precious moments alone and free from observation. Wallace contemplated the great expanse of green turf stretching away before him, and slowly a smile appeared on his face.

‘Why not?’ he muttered to himself. ‘It would save a lot of
trouble.’ He beckoned to Schönewald who joined him at once. ‘I have a notion,’ he observed, ‘that I can save myself and my party a great deal of trouble and von Strom some hours of discomfort. I am going to leave you here ostensibly under the charge of Cousins, in order that Fraulein Heckler’s suspicions may not be roused against you, but relying still, of course, on your word. I myself shall drive His Excellency’s car to the airport. I have heard that there are several new air liners there that have recently been completed for service. I shall invite myself to a trip in one and order it to come here. Then I shall borrow it and fly to England, leaving you, Marlene Heckler, and the two chauffeurs to release von Strom and his orderly. Except that you may quite unreasonably fall into disgrace for not making a desperate bid to checkmate me, a bid which would only have ended in your death, I don’t think any harm will come to you. I should like your opinion on that point though.’ Schönewald shrugged his shoulders.

‘I shall be disgraced without a doubt,’ he replied, ‘but I am pretty certain nothing worse will happen to me. To all intents and purposes I have only been made a prisoner. Fraulein Heckler did not hear our conversation after she had been forced by Cousins to get into the car. Since then, as far as she is aware, I have been intimidated by your gun in the same manner as Cousins has compelled her to keep quiet.’

Sir Leonard smiled.

‘Under the circumstances,’ he remarked drily, ‘it would be as well if you took that revolver out of your holster and handed it over to me. Don’t let her see you though.’

They walked behind the second car, where Schönewald gave up his weapon.

‘I hope you do not think I am playing a traitor’s part, sir,’ he
observed a trifle anxiously, ‘in not putting up resistance of some sort or making an effort to detain you. But, as I have said, this present Germany is not my country. It is alien to me – von Strom’s methods go utterly against the grain – and I have resolved to become an American citizen. If I were a party to the recapture and death of the Baroness von Reudath I should always feel myself a murderer.’

‘I understand,’ nodded Sir Leonard. ‘I admire you for the course you are taking. It shows courage and idealism of a high order.’

‘Do you really mean to say you are intending to commandeer an air liner?’

‘I am. In my present character it should be quite a simple matter.’

‘My hat!’ murmured Schönewald very fervently, and in a manner decidedly English.

Sophie and her lover came strolling back. She was looking delightfully happy, though the dark rings under her beautiful eyes still remained as evidence of the terrible ordeal she had undergone. Foster was white-faced, and grim. She had told him of the manner in which Sir Leonard had snatched her and Dora Reinwald from death. He walked straight up to his chief.

‘I can’t begin to express to you how I feel, sir,’ he stammered, overcome by his emotion, ‘but—’

‘Don’t try,’ interrupted Sir Leonard, who hated what he described as emotional scenes of gratitude. ‘I know how you feel, so we’ll leave it at that. I am sorry Baroness,’ he added, turning to the girl, ‘that it is impossible to save any of your belongings or collect our money. I am afraid they will all be confiscated, but if I try Fate any more highly today, she may turn on me. We’ve been marvellously lucky so far.’

Marching Schönewald before him for the sake of appearances, and followed by the baroness and Foster, Wallace went up to von Strom’s black saloon, and opened the door. Marlene Heckler frowned at him, but said nothing. Dora Reinwald, who was lying back in a corner, her great eyes half closed, as though she were extremely weary, managed to smile at him. In a sense the reaction affected her more acutely than the baroness. By an extreme effort of will she had maintained a mocking, defiant demeanour from the time of her arrest until the last dreadful moments. Even when she stood by the scaffold in momentary expectation of seeing her beloved employer’s head fall severed from her body, knowing that she was directly afterwards to suffer the same cruel fate, she had appeared the personification of scorn.

‘And all lived happily ever after,’ she murmured.

‘You are not out the wood yet,’ snapped Marlene Heckler.

‘My dear,’ drawled Dora, ‘we are not even in it.’

Germany’s celebrated woman secret agent turned impatiently from her, receiving an unpleasant reminder of Cousins’ alertness, when her body came sharply into contact with his revolver.

‘I require this car,’ pronounced Sir Leonard, ‘so I must ask you all to get out and enter the other; at least Fraulein Heckler and Colonel Schönewald, will enter the other! Perhaps the baroness and Fraulein Reinwald would like to rest under the trees for a while. Take this revolver, Foster,’ he handed Schönewald’s weapon to his assistant, ‘and help Cousins to keep watch. You, Reichmann,’ he whispered in English to the disguised guide, when they were momentarily alone, ‘keep your eyes open, and be ready to go to the aid of Mr Cousins if there is any trouble.’

The transference to Schönewald’s touring car was adroitly managed without its being made apparent to either of the drivers
that the colonel and Marlene Heckler were under restraint. They may have wondered at the queer happenings of that glorious June morning, probably did, but everything had been conducted so well that they certainly had no inkling of the truth. When the two Germans were seated with Cousins and Foster opposite them, Wallace leant towards them.

‘I am taking the trunks with me,’ he observed in a lowered voice. ‘That will save you from giving yourselves headaches trying to hatch a plot to rescue His Excellency. If, when I return, I find you have made the slightest attempt to raise the alarm, I may be tempted to rid Germany of him after all. I shall not be gone long.’

‘Where are you going?’ demanded Marlene.

‘You will know soon enough. Remember to conduct yourself with circumspection while I am away.’

Her eyes flashed viciously; her whole body was trembling with the violence of her anger.

‘You will pay for this,’ she ground out between her clenched teeth. ‘Oh, you will pay to the very uttermost.’

He bowed mockingly.

‘Maybe with a post-dated cheque, fraulein,’ he returned suddenly; ‘not otherwise.’

He stood for a moment watching Hanni ministering to her mistress and Dora, who were now lying gratefully under a tree. A little pleased smile parted his lips; then, instructing the chauffeur to drive him to the Templehof aerodrome he entered the car, and was driven away.

There were few members of the personnel visible when the black saloon arrived at Berlin’s great airport. Directly it was known, however, that the Supreme Marshal himself had paid a surprise visit, great activity prevailed. In a remarkable short period of time the scene became intensely animated. Mechanics and other officials appeared, and paraded with military precision in front of the hangars. Sir Leonard explained that he wished to make an inspection, and perhaps take a little trip in one of the new air liners.

He was escorted round the aerodrome and received eloquent proof of the fact that, although on the surface everything and everybody had a civilian appearance, beneath was an undoubted and significant suggestion of military efficiency. The men acted like well-drilled and disciplined soldiers; machines were run out for his inspection in a manner that was no whit inferior
to the well-trained effectiveness of the British RAF. The officer in charge quite innocently divulged certain facts concerning the secret constructions of some of the new machines that Sir Leonard found decidedly interesting. Almost every one could very cleverly and in a short space of time be converted into a warplane. He spent over half an hour, taking great care all the time not to betray his ignorance, inspecting the cunningly concealed mechanism on some for the dropping of bombs, the equally well-hidden fixtures for machine guns on others. Eventually, when he had selected a large four-engine machine on which to take his proposed trip, he decided mentally that his visit to the Templehof aerodrome had been worthwhile in more ways than one.

The aeroplane chosen, his greatest difficulty was to avoid being accompanied by an escort. Sir Leonard’s adroit management, however, enabled him to depart with a single pilot and without raising the slightest suspicion against himself, though his decision undoubtedly caused a certain amount of surprise. Before leaving the aerodrome, he gave the driver of the car instructions to proceed to the Supreme Marshal’s residence, declaring that he himself would return with Colonel Schönewald, and impressing on him the order that the trunks at the back were not to be moved or touched until he or Colonel Schönewald arrived. He explained to the commandant that he would alight in the park at Babelsberg where he had left his attendants. The necessary orders were given to the pilot.

The huge machine took off beautifully, the personnel of the aerodrome standing stiffly to the salute. Sir Leonard sat in one of the well-upholstered seats in the saloon, and laughed softly to himself. It had all been so deliciously easy. The final coup had been
actually the simplest part of the enterprise, thanks to the entire absence of suspicion in the minds of the aerodrome officials. There remained the actual capture of the machine and the flight to England.

It was not long before Babelsberg was reached. As they descended, Sir Leonard looked down anxiously, his eyes searching for signs that people were being attracted by the unusual sight of a large air liner alighting in the park. Apparently, however, it was still too early for inhabitants of that neighbourhood to be abroad. With the exception of his own party, which he and the pilot had quickly sighted, there did not appear to be anybody about.

The man in control made a perfect landing, bringing the great machine to a halt a few yards from Colonel Schönewald’s car. Wallace stepped out, and was just in time to catch the look of hope in Marlene Heckler’s face before it changed to an expression of intense mortification. Apparently she had thought for the moment that by some means, the tables had been turned; that von Strom had succeeded in escaping from his ignominious position, had come to rescue her and Schönewald, and recapture the baroness. But those steel-grey eyes soon undeceived her. She groaned aloud. Sir Leonard smiled, and bowed ironically.

‘Sorry to disappoint you, fraulein,’ he drawled. Then his manner and voice became sharp, incisive. ‘There is no time to waste,’ he snapped. ‘Cousins, search the pilot for weapons, and disarm him if necessary. Foster, do the same to the driver of this car. Colonel Schönewald and Fraulein Heckler, I beg you to remain exactly as you are. I have you covered, and I should hate any indiscreet movement on your part to cause an unfortunate accident. Baroness, Fraulein Reinwald, and you, Hanni, enter the aeroplane. Be as quick as you can!’

The three women obeyed almost in a state of stupor. The arrival of the machine had filled each heart with foreboding and dismay, which had given place to a wonderful sense of relief. There seemed no end to the resource of this amazing Englishman. It was little wonder, therefore, that the two women, who had undergone so much, and the maid who had suffered very nearly as acutely, should feel rather stupefied by his arrival in one of Germany’s very latest air liners, and order them to enter.

The gloves were now off with a vengeance. The driver of Schönewald’s car and the pilot of the aeroplane were probably the most astonished men in Germany at that moment. For some time they could only sit and gasp, the one at Cousins, the gaze of the other alternating ludicrously between Foster and the man he had believed to be the Supreme Marshal of Germany. The thought that Marlene Heckler might be armed prompted Wallace to recall Hanni from the aeroplane and order her to search the woman. It was well he did so. Marlene carried a deadly little automatic in her handbag; there was nothing concealed on her person. The pilot was commanded to descend from the air liner. He was unarmed, but several weapons and ammunition, of which Cousins took possession, were found in a locker in the large and admirably fitted cockpit.

‘I am borrowing this plane and you,’ Sir Leonard told the airman, ‘to take my friends and me to England. You have gathered by now that I am not the Supreme Marshal. Any attempt on your part to draw unwelcome attention to us or frustrate my designs will only end unfortunately – for you. Both of these gentlemen,’ he indicated Foster and Cousins, ‘have pilots’ certificates and are capable of assuming control. I am taking you with us principally to bring back the machine from England. You will see, therefore,
that any attempt to trick us will merely result in your being superseded. No harm will come to you so long as you do what you are told.’

The man was far too amazed to do anything else but stare with wide-open, startled eyes at the speaker. He was ordered to climb back into the aeroplane, Cousins accompanied him, and took the seat at his side, holding his revolver pointed suggestively and in business-like manner at him. Sir Leonard was not satisfied, however. He felt they were too much at the pilot’s mercy. It would be so easy for the man to crash the plane while taking off. He would be quite likely to risk a bullet or his own death in the accident to frustrate the attempt at escape from Germany of people who, though he was unaware of the real facts, were obviously ‘wanted’. The Chief of the British Secret Service called Foster to him.

‘Do you think you can take control of that bus?’ he asked in his own language.

Foster grinned.

‘I have never handled anything like her, sir,’ he announced cheerfully, ‘but I’m willing to try.’

Sir Leonard sighed.

‘It seems to me you will be the lesser of two evils,’ he commented dryly. ‘Go ahead, and take charge. Tell Cousins to remove his man into the saloon. Once you get her into the air, you should be all right. For heaven’s sake don’t crash us taking off; that’s all I ask. Make sure there is plenty of petrol.’

Foster went confidently about his job. He appeared to have little doubt of his ability to manage the huge machine. In a few moments the four engines were running smoothly and, after a careful inspection, he was able to announce the good news that there was plenty of petrol and oil to take them comfortably
to England. Sir Leonard had managed to convey unnoticed instruction to Reichmann to go quietly away, remove his disguise, and find his way, as best he could, back to Berlin. He waited until the guide had disappeared, and had had time to place himself in a position of safety, where he would be secure from any possibility of the car containing Schönewald and Marlene Heckler coming upon him, then turned to the two.

‘You are at liberty to depart now,’ he declared in German. ‘I regret that circumstances compelled me to hold you prisoners.’

‘You will regret more than that,’ cried Marlene, her eyes flashing fiercely. ‘You will regret many things.’

‘You have said something of the same nature before,’ he retorted. ‘Come, come, fraulein! This sort of thing is all in our job. Why should you resent being outwitted. I would not have been vindictive if you had beaten us. Be a sport!’

‘You talk as though we were playing a game,’ she snapped. ‘It is not a question of sport.’

‘On the contrary it is. We have been playing a game – a big game perhaps; nevertheless, a game – and I have won. Perhaps we may someday be opponents in another.’

‘That time you will not win. What have you done to His Excellency?’

‘I sent the car back to his residence. He will be waiting – still in his trunk – for Colonel Schönewald to free him. Here are the keys, Colonel.’ He tossed them to the Nazi officer. ‘You had better get back as soon as possible. The day is growing very warm, and he will not be happy.’

She cried out in great anger. Schönewald, who was nearer to Sir Leonard, regarded him sternly, but the eyelid which Marlene could not see, dropped in a rapid wink.

‘If you think you can escape,’ growled the young man, ‘you are a fool. Within half an hour squadrons of airplanes will be up to cut you off. Their orders will be to bring you down irrespective of the fact that you have a German airman on board.’

‘How kind that will be,’ commented Sir Leonard.

‘Kindness does not come into the matter,’ retorted Schönewald, purposely ignoring the sarcasm.

‘Fly north-west – Denmark,’ his lips framed in English.

Wallace nodded almost imperceptibly. He understood the warning. Schönewald would do his best to see that the pursuing or obstructing aeroplanes would block the way to the Netherlands, the route which the escaping Englishman would be expected to take.

‘There certainly seems to be little of the milk of human kindness in Germany,’ drawled the Chief of the British Secret Service.

Schönewald snapped an order to his driver. In a few minutes the touring car had passed rapidly out of sight. Sir Leonard entered the aeroplane to find the pilot sitting moodily by the side of Cousins. The expression of chagrin in his eyes caused the chief to reflect that he had been wise in ordering Foster, despite his inexperience, to take control. The baroness, Dora, and Hanni looked thoroughly happy. They, at least, were convinced that their troubles were over.

There were a few breathless seconds as the great air liner took off. She lurched in drunken fashion as she left the ground and commenced to climb, whilst flying in a semi-stalled condition. It seemed that she was about to crash, as she missed the top of a tree by inches. A moment later, however, she was soaring into the sky beautifully. Foster had quickly remedied the initial faults caused by his lack of experience in piloting a large, four-engine machine. Sir
Leonard and Cousins looked at each other, and smiled their relief.

‘“She spread her wings in glorious pride,”’ quoted the latter. ‘“And straight to Heaven seem’d to glide.” Now for England, home and – er – safety.’

‘Thank God for England, and – and for you two wonderful men,’ came earnestly from the baroness.

‘I am terribly sorry,’ remarked Sir Leonard hurriedly, ‘that I have nothing to offer you ladies to eat. You must be famished.’

The baroness stared at him, then laughed softly.

‘Fancy thinking of food at a moment like this!’ she exclaimed.

‘We had coffee and rolls offered us,’ put in Dora calmly, ‘before we were led out to have our heads chopped off. Neither of us indulged, though.’

‘Don’t, Dora!’ cried Sophie, and shuddered. ‘I am trying to forget.’

Wallace joined Foster in the cockpit, and gave him instructions to fly high and set a north-easterly course. That young man was rapidly becoming at home and was thoroughly enjoying himself.

‘It’s as easy as flying a Puss Moth, sir,’ he confided.

‘I’m glad you think so,’ smiled Sir Leonard. ‘I hope you get us down as well as you got us up.’

Travelling at a height of ten thousand feet and at a speed of close on a hundred and fifty miles an hour, the magnificent aeroplane made stimulating progress towards Denmark. Sir Leonard entered the small, perfectly fitted lavatory, and leisurely removed his disguise. When he emerged his real self for the first time since leaving England, though still, of course, wearing von Strom’s clothing, Hanni greeted his appearance with a cry of alarm. It took her some time to realise that he was the man who had been so wonderfully disguised as the Supreme Marshal. Dora Reinwald
had fallen asleep, the Baroness von Reudath had joined her lover in the cockpit. Thither Wallace went, and she gave a little gasp as she recognised him.

‘You have become yourself,’ she exclaimed. ‘I am glad. You were so absolutely the Supreme Marshal before that, every time I looked at you my heart jumped painfully with fear.’

‘I don’t think fear would ever enter that gallant heart of yours, Baroness,’ he responded. ‘But how is it you know me?’

‘You were pointed out to me in London,’ she told him. ‘Oh, Sir Leonard, how can I ever thank you for—’

‘Please don’t try,’ he implored hastily, adding, in a desperate effort to get away from an embarrassing subject: ‘I wonder what that town is down there.’

‘Haven’t the vaguest idea, sir,’ remarked Foster cheerfully, ‘but it won’t be long before we touch the south-east corner of Denmark. There’s the sea on the horizon to our left.’

Visibility was extremely good and, flying at such a height, their range of vision was immense. After shading his eyes, and looking keenly in the direction indicated, Sir Leonard agreed that his assistant was right. It was at that moment that he became aware of three aeroplanes flying in formation a couple of thousand feet below, but apparently ascending rapidly towards them. He decided at once that their object was to cut off the air liner. Schönewald’s efforts on their behalf had not altogether succeeded. The squadron had probably been sent from Hamburg, and Hamburg, therefore, must have been warned. The very visibility which had enabled them to glimpse the sea had also permitted the watchers to spot the escaping air liner. His lips came together in a tight line, but, when he spoke, his voice was calm, almost casual.