Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 (64 page)

BOOK: Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07
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“Herr Graf
, I
do wish that I could persuade you to be a little more communicative. Naturally,
I have never expected you to confess to any espionage activities in this
country, but now that we are at war with Serbia it is of great importance that
we should find out all we can about our enemies. If you would tell me the truth
about your visits to Belgrade and all you learned in connection with the
Serbian War Office, we might come to some arrangement about your future.
Instead of keeping you in close confinement indefinitely, I could have you
transferred to the more pleasant surroundings of an internment camp; and in a
few months’ time, when any information you have gathered in Vienna has become
stale, it might even be arranged for you to leave the country.”

De Richleau guessed that
once the Major had obtained an admission from him that he
was
a spy, no matter where he had operated, that would be
quite enough for the K.S. to have him legally put away in a fortress for the
duration of the war; and he had no intention of falling into such a trap. So he
replied:

“Alas, my dear Major. I
fear I cannot take advantage of your offer. As I have said on several previous
occasions, your friend Herr Höller has been the victim of hallucinations, and
it is impossible for me to give you information that I do not possess.”

With a frown of annoyance
the fat man stood up, but the Duke went on: “Before you go, I have a small
favour to ask. It concerns not myself but another, and I should be grateful if
you would assist me to do a kindness to one of your compatriots.”

“Which will at the same
time inform him that I am holding you here, eh?” The Major’s sly little eyes
twinkled between their heavy folds of flesh. “No thank you.”

“Not at all. It is merely
that I owe some money and wish to pay it. You may perhaps have heard of the
painter, Herr de Lazalo? After my return from Belgrade I commissioned him to
paint a portrait for me. Few artists can afford to paint pictures without being
paid for them, and I meant to send him a cheque before leaving Sacher’s, but
your arrival prevented that. My signature on the cheque will be sufficient to
inform him from whom it comes, so there is no call for any covering letter, and
you need not fear that this is a ruse to send him some cryptic message. I simply
wish to send the poor chap the money he is entitled to, that is all.”

The Major fingered one
point of his waxed moustache thoughtfully for a moment, then he nodded. “All
right. I see no objection to that. Give me the cheque and the address; then I will
put it in a plain envelope and post it for you.”

When the K.S. Chief had
gone, De Richleau felt much the same as would a shipwrecked mariner on a desert
island who has found a rocket and managed to get it off within sight of a ship
passing a long way out.

De Lazalo would probably
be a little surprised at receiving the cheque, as Ilona had commissioned him to
paint her portrait and he would naturally be expecting her to pay for it.
However, as he was aware of her relations with De Richleau, he would no doubt
assume that the portrait was for him and she was allowing him to foot the bill.
The odds were that the painter would then pay the cheque into his bank, and
think no more about the matter.

On the other hand he
might query the payment with Sárolta. Then things should start to happen. If
they noticed that the date on the cheque was the 8th of August and that it had
been posted locally, they would realize that, although the Duke was supposed to
have left on the 4th, he was still in Vienna. Once Ilona had reason to believe
that, he felt confident that she would not rest until she found him.

Having managed to send
off his distress signal, De Richleau spent most of the week-end wondering if
its significance would be realized soon after de Lazalo’s post arrived on the
Monday morning; but he feared it was much more likely that the artist would not
mention the cheque to his lovely young relative until Ilona broached the
subject of paying for the portrait, and that might not happen for some weeks to
come. So he tried to put the matter out of his mind and think of others ways of
letting his friends know of his unhappy situation.

In that, by Tuesday
evening, he had met with no success. He was just on the point of going to bed
when footsteps halted outside his cell, the door was unlocked and a warder told
him that he was wanted in the Governor’s office. Instantly his hopes were
aroused and his pulses began to race with excitement. Hardly able to keep his
hands steady, he followed the man down several long passages and into a
spacious, well-furnished room.

Opposite the door, an
elderly Colonel with grey mutton-chop whiskers was seated behind a big desk.
Beside him stood Major Ronge. Sitting in an arm-chair on the right of the desk
was Adam Grünne. With a sigh of relief De Richleau smiled a greeting to his
dark, broad-shouldered friend; then, with a bow to the Governor, sat down in
another arm-chair to which that functionary waved him.

The Governor stroked his
right side-whisker for a moment, while regarding the prisoner thoughtfully from
a pair of rheumy blue eyes, coughed, and said: “
Herr
Graf,
I have never been called on to deal with a case
similar to yours, and I hardly know what to do about it.”

De Richleau was now on
his mettle, and replied at once: “I am very happy at this opportunity to
discuss the matter with you, sir. During the past week I asked repeatedly to do
so, in vain. I have committed no crime, neither have I been charged with one,
and I am being held here illegally. I demand that if you have anything against
me I shall be given a fair trial with legal aid, or, alternatively, be released
at once.”

“In peace time your
demand would be fully justified,” The Governor tapped the ash of a cigar he was
smoking off into a tray. “But we are now in a state of war. As an enemy alien
suspected of activities prejudicial to the State, we are fully entitled by our
emergency regulations to hold you without trial for as long as we consider
desirable. However, a new factor has arisen which greatly complicates the
situation. It is beyond dispute that you hold a commission in the Archduchess
Ilona Theresa’s regiment of Hussars; and on that account Her Imperial Highness
has demanded that we should give you up to her.”

“I protest!” put in
Ronge. “It is also beyond dispute that the
Herr Graf
is of British nationality, and I consider him to be
one of the most dangerous men that I have ever had on my files.”

“Have you any proof of
that?” asked the Governor.

“I am fully satisfied,
sir, that while in Belgrade during June he was associating with members of the
Serbian General Staff for the purpose of making himself acquainted with their
secrets. While in Vienna during July, his association with many highly placed
persons cannot have failed to place him in possession of information which would
be of great value to the enemy. Therefore, I am most strongly opposed to his
release.”

The Governor stroked his
right whisker again. “Unless you can bring a specific charge against him, I do
not see how I can refuse Her Imperial Highness’ demand.”

Ronge shrugged his heavy
shoulders. “The decision lies with you, sir. I do not think he can do us much
damage providing that he is not allowed to get out of the country. By rights,
quite apart from our suspicions of him, he should be interned; but if Her Imperial
Highness is prepared to be responsible for him, that seems as good a protection
as putting him in a camp, from which he would probably be able to escape
without great difficulty.”

“Very well then. I will
sign the order for his release.”

With a smile of
satisfaction De Richleau watched the Governor sign the paper, then stood up.
But the K.S. Chief still had a shot left in his locker, and now he discharged
it:

“Herr Graf,
before you go I should like to give you a warning. It is my duty to prevent
information reaching the enemy, and I still intend to carry out that duty as
far as you are concerned. Her Imperial Highness has no official status, and the
responsibility she has assumed for you can only be accepted on the grounds that
you are an officer in her regiment. To fulfil your functions in that respect
you must remain in Vienna. As long as you do so my police will not molest you:
but should you leave the city, we shall assume that Her Imperial Highness’
responsibility has automatically lapsed. I intend to issue a description of you
to all railway and frontier police, with orders that they are to keep a special
look out for you. Should you attempt to get out of the country you will be
re-arrested. Even should Her Imperial Highness have given you leave to go, I am
prepared to risk her displeasure by stopping you; because I shall take the
matter to my Minister, and I am confident that in the interests of security he
will support me.”

De Richleau bowed. “My
dear
Herr Major
, I
have always admired devotion to duty, and I congratulate you on your admirable
sense of it. I find it regrettable only that you should not direct your
energies into more promising channels.”

Adam Grünne stood up and
said to the Governor: “I have already given you Her Imperial Highness’ letter
requiring the release of her officer; so, if there are no further formalities,
it remains only for me to ask you, sir, to be good enough to have his
belongings sent to the barracks of the regiment.”

“I will have that done
with pleasure,” the Governor agreed. Then he sent for the Duke’s hat and coat,
and personally escorted him to the outer door, where Adam had a cab waiting.

As soon as it drove off
De Richleau said with a chuckle: “Well, my friend, I am truly grateful to you
for your endeavours on my behalf. These war time emergency powers are quite
reminiscent of the
lettre de cachet
,
on which the Kings of France used to have people thrown into the Bastille for
an unspecified period. I was beginning to fear that I might be kept in that
damn prison until the war was over.”

Adam grinned at him in
the semi-darkness. “I think you might have been, but for a mysterious cheque
that de Lazalo brought round to Sárolta this morning; and Ilona raising Cain
with the Chief of Police every hour since, until he discovered your whereabouts.”

“So my trick worked, eh?
It was a long shot, hut that fat Secret Service man refused to allow me to
communicate with anyone. I wonder, though, that Ilona did not start her
inquiries about me when I failed to appear at our last rendezvous. I might
quite well have been in hospital as the result of an accident.”

“Oh no! I learned the
same afternoon that the reason you did not turn up at the studio was because
you had been arrested.”

“Then, if you knew that,
why the devil have you waited all this time before doing something about me?”

“Because I was given to
understand that the matter of your arrest had been straightened out, and that
you had left after all that afternoon for England. When you did not appear at
de Lazalo’s Ilona got into a frightful state, and sent me off to Sacher’s. I
arrived there to find the detectives collecting your baggage. Ronge was with
them. He told me that you had been arrested in mistake for someone else, and
that your detention was likely to cause you to miss your train. You know, or
perhaps you don’t know, that hundreds of people were fighting to get on those
last trains out of Vienna before the frontiers closed. Anyhow, he said that by
way of amends he had sent you straight to the station with a police Inspector
to get you a seat, and had come himself to collect your luggage for you.”

“By Jove!” exclaimed the
Duke. “One can’t help admiring that fellow. He’s as cunning as the devil.”

Adam nodded. “Poor Ilona
was nearly hysterical when I had to tell her that she had lost her last chance
of saying good-bye to you; but the explanation Ronge gave me was so plausible
that we naturally accepted it. Just now, before you were brought up from your
cell, I charged him in front of the Governor with having told me a flat lie,
but he seemed to think that he would have been justified in going to pretty
well any lengths in order to make certain of keeping you under lock and key.
What is all this nonsense about your being a dangerous enemy agent?”

De Richleau sighed. “I
am, alas, now technically an enemy of your country, Count; but I assure you I
am not in the least a dangerous one.”

“You are prepared to give
me your word, then, that there is not an atom of truth in the suggestion that
you have been endeavouring to obtain our military secrets?”

“Certainly I am.” The
Duke glanced at his companion in surprise, and added a little sharply: “Knowing
me well, as you do, I think it a little odd that you should require it.”

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