The Ends of the Earth (21 page)

Lemmer moved to a side-table, where he had placed a briefcase earlier. He opened it and removed a phial of clear liquid and a syringe. He filled the syringe from the phial and began to walk towards Dombreux. Nadia moved closer to him, keeping the gun trained on his head.

‘This is the drug Nadia gave you to use on Max, Pierre. I want to be sure it is as effective as I have been told.’

‘Do not move,’ said Nadia. ‘Or I will shoot you.’

Glancing at her, Dombreux did not doubt she meant it. He glanced back at Lemmer, advancing on him round the shrouded billiards table. He saw the needle of the syringe sparkle in the lamplight. And then he decided what to do.

He lunged at Nadia and she fired, once, then twice more in quick succession. He slumped to the floor, blood coursing out of him. ‘
Quel dommage
,’ he murmured weakly, gazing up at her and Lemmer. ‘
Vous êtes
—’ And then he said no more.

Lemmer opened the door and signalled for Everett to enter. The Japanese manservant looked as if he had not even heard the shots, but clearly Everett had. ‘What the hell happened?’ he gasped, taking in the scene as the door closed again behind him.

‘He guessed I had planned a lingering death for him,’ said Lemmer. ‘He preferred to go quickly. He was a traitor. But he was not a coward.’

Everett wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Nadia looked at him calmly. She was still holding the gun. ‘Do we have a serious problem, boss?’ he asked Lemmer.

‘We may need to move quickly on several fronts. You are ready for that?’

‘Sure.’

‘Where are Duffy and Monteith?’

‘Waiting in the car, down at the gatehouse.’

‘One of them warned Miss Hollander she was about to be arrested. I cannot otherwise explain her escape. Which, do you think?’

‘Maybe she just got lucky.’ But Lemmer’s cold hard stare told Everett that would not suffice as an answer. ‘Al wouldn’t warn his own mother if there was a rattlesnake in her bed. Howie, on the other hand, has a soft spot for the ladies.’

‘Monteith, then?’

Everett nodded.

‘Bring him here.’

‘You mean to kill him?’

‘No. I mean
you
to kill him.’

‘He’s not working for the other side, boss. If he tipped off Malory, it was just—’ Everett stopped. He read in Lemmer’s eyes the implacability he had only assumed before. Now it was undisguised. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said in an undertone.

‘Proceed, then.’

Everett left the room. A brief silence followed, then Nadia said, ‘Do you want me to begin searching for Max?’

Lemmer shook his head. ‘No. That will not be necessary. I will send a message to him through Miss Hollander.’

‘I am sorry they have found this way to attack you.’

‘It is my fault. I should have had a son who died in the war … like Appleby.’

‘I do not believe Appleby will kill your son. He is not as hard as you.’

‘Perhaps not. I would prefer not to find out. I have sent Koschnick to Lausanne to help Dulière learn what he can. But it’s a long journey from Munich and Appleby will not have left many clues. There is a limit to what I can achieve at this distance. I’ve sent Meadows as well. He will arrive sooner. He isn’t one of our best, I know. But he is the best available.’

Nadia looked at him in some alarm. ‘Will you give Appleby what he demands?’

‘No. I will offer Max what he really wants. Then he will have to choose. And I think I know what his choice will be.’

‘Will you warn Count Tomura?’

‘No. He must not know what has happened to Eugen. He must not know Eugen even exists. I killed Dombreux because I learnt from Miss Hollander Max is still alive and therefore Dombreux had lied to us. That is all he needs to know.’

Lemmer gave Nadia a tight little smile of encouragement. ‘The Japanese government wants what I can supply,’ he continued. ‘Count Tomura has been useful as a
Mittelsmann
. Now he may be useful to me … in another way.’

THURSDAY PASSED SLOWLY
at Les Saules. Veronica delivered food and water to the prisoner in the cellar and emptied the bucket he had been supplied with. Eugen Hanckel said little to her beyond, ‘You will pay for this.’ Anger had replaced his initial fear. She was careful never to step within his reach. He looked as if he wanted to strike her. And she understood why.

Appleby did not visit the boy. He explained he did not want anything he said reported in due course to Lemmer. ‘The less he hears about me from his son the better.’ Meanwhile, it was best to let Eugen assume they were kidnappers motivated by money and nothing more.

The terms they had set for Eugen’s release would by now have been delivered to Lemmer. It would be Friday morning in France before any news of his response could be expected. Until then – and beyond then – it would be a matter of waiting.

As dusk fell softly over the lake, the telephone rang. The Marmiers had been given the number to use in an emergency and only in an emergency. Appleby spoke to André, who claimed a serious problem had arisen which could only safely be discussed face to face. With harrumphing reluctance, Appleby headed off in the Berliet, bound for their yard on the other side of Evian-les-Bains. ‘A waste of time, I suspect,’ he complained as he left. ‘But I have it to waste, I suppose.’

No more than ten minutes after he had left, Veronica’s attention was distracted from her latest wrestle with the Grey File cipher by the growl of the Marmiers’ motor-launch. She went to the conservatory and saw them tying up at the landing-stage. Her first thought was that they had misunderstood their arrangement with Appleby and believed they had agreed to come to him rather than the other way round.

She walked out into the garden and called to them. ‘Why are you here?’

The only response was a wave from André. Leaving his father aboard, with the engine running, he strolled up across the lawn to where she was standing.

‘
Bonsoir
, Veronica,’ he said with a smile. ‘Where is ’Orace?’

‘He’s gone to your yard. You asked to meet him there.’

‘
Non, non
, we meet ’ere.’

‘Well, he—’

‘
Ça ne fait rien.
’ Suddenly, from behind his back André pulled out a gun and levelled it at her. ‘Go into the ’ouse, Veronica. Say nothing or I shoot you.
C’est compris?
’

‘What … are you doing?’

‘Another word and I will shoot.’ He raised the gun and aimed at her face. ‘Go inside.
Tout de suite
.’

Veronica turned and walked slowly back into the house.

‘Go to the kitchen,’ said André from close behind her.

She headed along the passage past the scullery and into the kitchen, struggling to imagine what the Marmiers thought they were doing – and what she could do to prevent it.

‘Sit down.’

There were two chairs in the room, drawn up at the small table she and Appleby used for most of their meals. She sat down on one of them.

Michel Marmier appeared next to her, accompanied by his usual aroma of tar and tobacco. He wound rope round her legs and arms and stomach and tied her fast to the chair, then muttered something to his son she could not understand.

‘We ’ave come for the boy, Veronica,’ said André. ‘Where is the key for
les chaînes
?’

By
les chaînes
he meant the manacles, of course. ‘Horace took it with him,’ she lied.

‘
Non, non
. I do not think so. It is ’ere somewhere. Tell me where. If I have to, I will ’urt you. I will ’urt you bad.’

‘I don’t know where it is.’

He pulled open several drawers before he found the carving knife. He pushed the tip of it against her front teeth and prised up her lip. ‘You ’ave a nice face, Veronica. Don’t make me spoil it. Tell me where the key is.’

He meant it. She felt horribly certain of that. He would slash her lip and who knew what else if she forced him to. And since the key was lying in a saucer on the windowsill behind him, he would find it anyway as soon as he troubled to look.

Her gaze must have drifted in the direction of the saucer unconsciously. Michel, who had been watching her from the doorway, pounced on it like a cat on a mouse and clapped the key into his son’s hands.

André smiled ironically. ‘
Merci, papa.
’

‘
Dépêche-toi
,’ Michel growled at him.

‘
Oui, oui.
’ André gestured for the old man to leave him to it. And with a scowl Michel left, heading back to the boat, Veronica assumed.

‘Tell ’Orace to phone us when he ’ears from the boy’s father,’ said André. ‘Then we will tell him ’ow much of
la rançon
we will let you ’ave.
C’est compris?
’

‘You’re making a big mistake, André,’ said Veronica as coolly as she could.

‘
Non, non
. ’Orace makes the big mistake, when he takes us for fools. So, tell him, yes?’ He was still holding the knife.

‘I’ll tell him.’

‘
Bravo
.’ He tossed the knife on to the draining-board. ‘
A bientôt
, Veronica.’

André flung open the door that led to the cellar and vanished down the steps. Veronica heard his footsteps on the concrete floor as he strode across it.

‘
Allez, mon petit garçon
,’ he shouted at Eugen. There was a rattle of the manacles. ‘
Vous êtes
—’

André suddenly cried out in pain. There was a loud clunk. His cry subsided. Then the gun went off as a loud boom, echoing in the cellar. And something heavy hit the floor.

Veronica could not understand what had happened. She heard racing footsteps on the stairs. Eugen appeared in the doorway, panting heavily, the gun clutched, waggling, in his right hand. They stared at each other.

‘Where am I?’ Eugen demanded, his voice cracking.

‘What?’

‘
Where am I?
’

‘France,’ Veronica replied. ‘Near Evian-les-Bains.’

‘Evian? Where is Rolle?’

‘On the other side of the lake. In Switzerland. Put the gun down, please. Before you hurt someone.’

He gaped at her as if she was mad. She instantly regretted what she had said. It was obvious he had already hurt someone. A strangled moan rose from the cellar behind him.

Eugen Hanckel rushed to the window. From there he could see the landing-stage – and the lake. ‘
Ein Boot
,’ he murmured.

His face was masked with sweat. Veronica noticed for the first time spots of blood on his white football shirt. The gun was waggling even more now. He held it in both hands to steady it and swallowed heavily.

‘Listen to me, Eugen,’ she said. ‘Please.’

He did not seem to hear her. He turned and ran out into the scullery, heading for the garden.

She bent forward and managed to slide the chair closer to the window, until, stretching up, she could see out through it.

Her first glimpse was of Eugen, running towards the launch. Then she saw Michel. He looked round from the wheel, where he was standing, as the boy approached. He must have noticed the gun at once. He brandished the boat-hook and stepped out on to the landing-stage. He could have tried to escape, but concern for his son must have conquered the instinct for self-preservation. In that instant Eugen started firing.

Several bullets flew wide. But one hit Michel in the chest, then another. He staggered and fell.

Eugen jumped past him and into the launch. He untied the mooring-rope and climbed behind the wheel. The craft moved forward, scraping against the landing-stage, then lurched away from the shore.

It slowed and accelerated a couple of times, before Eugen grasped how to control its speed. Then it surged away into the open water of the lake.

APPLEBY SUSPECTED TREACHERY
of some kind as soon as he found the Marmiers’ boatyard deserted, the gate from the road padlocked shut. He raced back to Les Saules. Steam was rising from the Berliet’s radiator by the time he arrived. And the light was failing fast.

The scene was better than he had feared in one respect, worse in another. Veronica was mercifully unharmed, though badly shaken. Eugen was gone, not taken by the Marmiers as they had planned, but gone anyway, speeding towards Switzerland in the motor-boat. André lay dead in the cellar, with a large bullet wound in his stomach and a blade embedded in his throat. Michel was sprawled on the landing-stage, dead from two bullets to the chest. The Marmiers’ plot to increase their share of the ransom money had led them to their deaths – and Eugen to freedom.

Appleby stood by Michel’s body, squinting out across the lake. It was too dark by now to see much and Eugen was almost certainly too far away.

A steamer passed by, heading west, as Appleby watched. As its wake approached the shore, he noticed a rainbow shimmer on the surface of the water. He stooped and shone his torch on the ripples lapping at the support-posts of the landing-stage. It was petrol, enough of it for him to smell. His guess was that one of the bullets Eugen had fired had pierced the motor-boat’s fuel tank. How much fuel the tank held and how much it had lost by now he could not say. But suddenly the boy’s escape did not look as complete as it had.

Appleby was already turning over in his mind how to deal with the disaster the Marmiers’ greed had precipitated. If Eugen told the Swiss police all he knew, there would be nothing for it but to call in
le Deuxième Bureau
. Yet Appleby was far from sure Eugen would tell the Swiss police all he knew. A son of Fritz Lemmer must have been schooled by his father to be reticent as well as resourceful. His resourcefulness had already been demonstrated. His reticence might now save them.

With his customary phlegm, Appleby wasted no time on regrets. The situation was as the situation was. Veronica, for her part, refused to give way to panic. ‘What’s to be done, Horace?’ she asked calmly.

And he had an answer. ‘I’ll raise Brigham and have him scout along the shore road for signs of the boy landing. But it’s virtually dark and there’s nothing he can do beyond alerting us to whatever happens over there, if he finds out. I’d guess the boy will make for Rolle. Beyond that … I’m not sure. My hope is that Lemmer will give us what we want before word of his son’s escape reaches him. Meanwhile, we have to explain to the local police what took place here. This is what I suggest. Three men invaded the house and tied you up. You gathered they’d hidden stolen valuables – jewellery, perhaps – in the cellar while the house was empty. After they retrieved it, there was a falling-out among thieves, leaving two of them dead and the survivor making off with the haul. Eventually, you freed yourself and called the police. I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you to face them alone. I can’t risk being held up answering their questions. I’ve missed the last ferry, so I’ll have to drive round to Lausanne. The journey will take two or three times as long by road, but I’ve no choice. Tell the police I left for Geneva earlier today and you’ve no means of contacting me. How does all of that sound?’