The Legion of the Lost, стр. 68

The Baron von Lichner and his sister stared up from other chairs at a large desk; there was no one else in the room.

Palfrey fired at von Otten.

The Count was the only one of the trio to try to get to his gun, and Palfrey’s bullet struck him in the forearm, making him stop. Palfrey pushed the door to with his foot and Conroy advanced swiftly as von Lichner rose to his feet. Von Lichner, in civilian clothes, was obviously unarmed, for he gripped the back of a chair, his face livid. Conroy fired into his chest, with no compunction at all. The man stopped, relaxing his grip on the chair. He stood in a queer, rigid position, his sensitive lips working.

The woman, her face drained of colour, stared at the American without speaking.

Palfrey said: ‘Sit down, both of you.’ He ignored von Lichner, whose knees began to sag and who dropped on to a chair, putting a hand at his breast just over the heart. Palfrey looked at von Otten, seeing the fear in that man’s face, knowing that they had succeeded in what had once seemed impossible – they had taken them completely by surprise.

They sat down; the woman was beginning to shake.

Palfrey said: ‘I’ve just finished talking to Hilde Silversen. She made just one mistake. She won’t make any more. Nor will you, von Otten!’ He paused, glanced at the woman, and then went on softly: ‘So you were in conference with your good friends, who were so frightened of Stolte? Nicely done, gnädige Fräulein, you convinced us at the time! We thought you were afraid of him. In fact—’ Palfrey paused, remembering what Brian had said, knowing now that all the time von Lichner and von Otten had worked together. Von Lichner had tried, as Hilde had done, to get some knowledge of their plans, to disarm them by pretending that he wanted co-operation. All the time he had worked with von Otten, the ease of the ‘miracle’ at Trenborg was fully explained. He had wanted only to impress Palfrey with his sincerity while all the time they had planned in devious ways to find out just why Palfrey and the others were in the country.

Von Otten said in a thin voice: Herr Professor, I do not understand, I—’

‘Well, well!’ said Palfrey, absurdly. ‘So you’re as frightened as that? You wanted to know what we were after, didn’t you? The charming lady also tried to find out. It was quite a novel method, but—’

The woman said: ‘Palfrey, you won’t be able to leave this room alive! You’re just a fool, a poor fool who thinks he’s clever. And you’ll pay for killing Franz, you’ll pay for—’

‘Hush!’ said Palfrey. ‘I can hear quite well, there’s no need to shout!’ She had said enough to convince him that he had the truth, knew just what von Lichner had been trying to do. He went on: ‘We came to find the captives and release them, nothing more nor less than that.’

Von Lichner’s sister screamed: ‘They’re damned, you’re damned! You—’

She jumped from her chair and pulled at her skirt; Palfrey saw the gun tucked at the top of her stocking. Then he heard Conroy’s gun and saw the woman straighten; he did not spend time worrying because Conroy had shot to kill, only just saw the small hole in the woman’s forehead. It was no time for half measures; he had only one thing to do – get hold of the passports and start the final move.

Von Otten’s face was livid and he was trembling violently.

‘Palfrey, I will help you all I can,’ he gasped. ‘It is true. We followed you, we wanted you to—to betray your friends in this country. But now—now I will help you. There is no need to shoot, no need to shoot!’

Conroy said contemptuously: ‘You yellow-bellied snake! We’ll shoot if—’

‘Hold it, Alex,’ said Palfrey briefly. ‘Where are the passports, von Otten?’

The Count stared at him, lips quivering.

‘The—the passports? Which ones do you mean?’ His voice was so unsteady that they could hardly understand the words.

‘Belonging to the delegates,’ said Palfrey. ‘Don’t waste time!’

The German looked towards a bureau against the wall. It was closed, but there was a key in it. Conroy stepped towards it and turned the key – just inside lay a stack of passports, neatly piled. Conroy opened one, glanced through it, and said: ‘All stamped today and signed by His Excellency, Sap. We’re all set.’

‘It looks like it,’ said Palfrey. ‘The advantage of surprise.’ He looked at the shivering German, his lips curled in disgust. He remembered Karl and the club-footed youth, both of them had probably been shot. He thought of the others whom this man had sent to their death. He knew that Conroy would not hesitate to kill von Otten there and then, but he did not shoot.

Instead, he said softly: ‘Von Otten, pick up that telephone. If you give a word of warning I’ll shoot you now. Just say this: “The lecture tonight will take place in the air-raid shelter, at once”.’ He paused, and von Otten lifted the receiver unsteadily. Palfrey added: ‘Everyone, including the guards, are to be there.’

‘I—I will—’ gasped the German.

Conroy jumped across the room, snatched the receiver from the man’s hand and pushed it back into position. He shot von Otten at point blank range, and there was a cold gleam in his eyes as he said, without emphasis: ‘Sap, you’re too soft. It wasn’t safe, and I didn’t propose to leave him alive.’ He picked up the telephone, and when the operator answered spoke in German with a voice which was remarkably like the Count’s. ‘The meeting tonight will take place in the air-raid shelter. Everyone in the building will go there at once. There is a warning coming shortly, understand?’ He paused, the telephone crackled, and then he added: ‘Yes, everyone, including the guards. At once!’

He replaced the receiver slowly, then