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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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BOOK: Traitors' Gate
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While Gregory waited on tenterhooks a constable was sent to fetch the Commandant. Five minutes later he joined them: a square-shouldered tough-looking Captain of Police, with a slight cast in his left eye. After he had been given a brief résumé of what had occurred, he dismissed the wash-room attendant and took Gregory and Grauber into a small, barely furnished waiting-room.

The Captain’s eyes were blue although his nose was flat and his cheekbones high, indicating Tartar descent. For a moment he stood sizing up the two men before him, then he said to Grauber:

‘It seems there is little doubt about your identity,
Herr Gruppenführer
, so naturally I wish to be as helpful as I can. Although it is against all ordinary procedure to allow one of two people picked up on the same charge to question the other about something entirely different, since you say the matter is urgent you can go ahead.’

With a brief word of thanks, Grauber turned to Gregory and snapped: ‘Now! What are you up to in Budapest?’

Gregory knew that he could not bluff Grauber; but he hoped that he might keep the mind of the Police Captain open by replying, ‘I see no reason why I should submit to being questioned by you; but the sooner this matter is sorted out the better. It is evident that when you attacked me you mistook me for someone else. I am a Frenchman and I own a truffle farm in Périgord. I am here to sell my truffles.’

‘A fine story!’ Grauber sneered. ‘And now I will tell you why I am here.’

‘Thank you.’ Gregory shrugged. ‘But as I have never met you before I am not in the least interested.

‘Ah! But you will be! I am here because word reached my office a few days ago that a conspiracy is afoot in which a little clique of Hungarian magnates is plotting to bring pressure on their Government to sell out to the English.’

Gregory managed to keep his face expressionless; but Grauber’s words were a sickening blow. His fears, that a leak to the Nazis would result from the casual disregard of security displayed by Count Zapolya’s friends after the first big
meeting at the Nobles Club, had proved well founded. He could only pray that so far Grauber had not secured any actual evidence against the members of the Committee, and hope for a chance to get a warning to them. Meanwhile the plump, pasty-faced German was going on:

‘To run into you was a real stroke of fortune. On your past record as a secret agent, I would wager
Reichsmarschall
Goering’s cellar against a bottle of sour claret that you are at the bottom of this plot.’

‘You are completely wrong. I know nothing whatever about it.’

‘Oh, yes, you do! There is no war activity in Budapest which would bring a man of your calibre here, but such big game as this is just your meat. Now; I want the names of everyone you have met since you arrived in Hungary.’

‘If I had anything to hide I would not tell you; but during the fortnight I have been here I have met scores of people. My first few days were a little dull but I got into conversation with all sorts in the bars and at the swimming pools, and if you know how hospitable the Hungarians are you will appreciate that soon I had not a dull moment. There is hardly a night that I have not been to a party, and …’

‘Enough!’ Grauber cut him short. ‘It is useless to try to fog the issue by giving me a list of names a yard long. I want those of the people who know you to be an Englishman.’

‘There are none; for the simple reason that I am not one.’

At that moment there came an interruption. The Sergeant poked his head round the door and announced the arrival of the car sent to collect Grauber. Two of his aides-de-camp had come in it, tall pink-cheeked young Gestapo men; as the Sergeant stood aside they entered the room, clicked their heels and saluted.

Grauber gave them a nod and waved a hand towards Gregory. ‘
Heershaft
, we are in luck this evening. Allow me to present to you Mr. Gregory Sallust, the most skilful and dangerous of all British operatives. He has personally killed several of our colleagues and been responsible for the death of many more. It was to him that I owe the loss of my eye, and in due course I mean to pluck out both of his with my own hands. However, at the …’

Simulating intense anger, Gregory suddenly burst out, ‘This is fantastic! Not a word of it is true! My name is Etienne
Tavenier, and I am a retired Major of the French Army. I have documents to prove it.’

‘Documents!’ sneered Grauber. ‘Do you take me for a child? Of course you would have come provided with documents, but not one of them will be worth the paper it is written on.’

Gregory knew only too well that, as soon as Cochefert was sufficiently recovered to be brought in on the matter, to continue the pretence that he was Tavenier would be completely futile. Moreover, as it was from the Vadászkürt that his false passport had reached Lieutenant Puttony, and the Arizona was in the same district, it seemed highly probable that the Lieutenant was attached to this station. Should he come on the scene that would equally blow the Tavenier story. But Gregory had no other means of repudiating Grauber’s charges; so the only course open to him was to stick to his guns in front of the Hungarian Police Captain, in the desperate hope that some chance to escape might offer if only he could gain a little time. In a further effort to maintain his bluff, he shouted at Grauber:

‘My documents are in perfect order! They have been checked by the police and by that
Deuxième Bureau
Captain who was about to introduce me to you when you attacked me. If you don’t believe me, ask him; or send a telegram to Vichy. They know all about me there.’

The Hungarian, obviously impressed, nodded. ‘Yes. After all, it is quite possible that you are mistaken,
Herr Gruppenführer
. This man may be whom he says he is.’

‘He is an English spy, I tell you!’ Grauber’s high-pitched voice rose almost to a scream.

‘I am nothing of the kind!’ Gregory yelled back with all the excitability of an angry and injured Frenchman. ‘Telegraph to Vichy about me, and you will be made to eat your words.’

Again the Hungarian nodded. ‘Why should we not do that? I will hold the prisoner until morning, and by then we should have a reply.’

White with fury, Grauber banged his clenched fist on the table. ‘I need no telegram from Vichy. I know this man as well as I know my own face in a mirror. And the enquiry I am engaged upon is urgent. As soon as it gets out that he has been arrested the men he has been conspiring with will take fright. They will go into hiding, or try to leave the country.
That is why I have got to have the truth out of him here and now.’

‘Since he maintains that he is not the man you think him, I don’t see how you can.’

Grauber gave a short, sniggering laugh, and turned to leer at his two S.S. men. ‘We’ll get it all right, won’t we, boys?’

They both grinned, and the taller said, ‘Leave it to us,
Herr Gruppenführer

Turning back to the Hungarian, Grauber said abruptly, ‘Take us down to a cell and provide us with a piece of cord. We’ll string him up by his thumbs to start with and see if that will make him open his mouth.’

The Hungarian hesitated a moment, then he said, ‘I am anxious to oblige the
Herr Gruppenführer
, but I don’t think I could do that.’

‘And why not, if you please?’ Grauber asked in a suddenly silky voice.

‘For one thing, his identity is still uncertain.’

‘You said that you are anxious to oblige me. You can do so by taking my word about that.’

‘I have already stretched a point in allowing you to question him about a matter that has no connexion with the charge on which I am holding him.’


Teufel nochmal
!’ Grauber exploded. ‘Is Hungary Germany’s ally, or is she not?’


Herr Gruppenführer
, the fact that our two countries are allied has no bearing on police procedure.’

‘It has,
Herr Hauptmann
. Our Governments, our fighting services, our police and yours are all pledged to aid each other by every means in their power. I now formally request your help in the carrying out of my duties.’

Gregory was listening to the discussion with bated breath. He now had little enough to pin his hopes upon in any case, but the outcome of this swift exchange of words meant for him the difference between a few hours’ respite and being put to the torture within the next few minutes. The palms of his hand were damp with apprehension as he watched the Hungarian’s face. It was a strong face, but he feared every moment to see it weaken under the pressure that it was certain Grauber would bring to bear.

To the German’s request he replied, ‘I have no wish to withhold my co-operation; but the procedure of the two police
forces differ, and to do as you suggest would be contrary to our regulations here.’

‘I suppose you mean that, when a prisoner refuses to talk, you are too squeamish to make him?’ Grauber sneered.

‘Let us put it that in Hungary we do not approve of torture.’

‘Do you presume to criticise German methods?’

‘I criticise nothing. I only obey the orders of my superiors.’

Grauber was seething with rage. His thin sandy eyebrows drew down in a scowl and his single eye gleamed with malice, as he said, ‘Listen, my little Captain. My rank is far superior to yours and should you continue to oppose my wish I am quite powerful enough to insist on your own Chief disciplining you. Now! No more nonsense. Send for a piece of cord and lead us to a cell.’

To Gregory’s intense relief the threat had the contrary effect to that he had feared. The Hungarian’s chunky face went white but his blue eyes suddenly blazed with anger. Thrusting his chin forward, he snapped, ‘This is not Germany! You can’t yet ride rough-shod over everybody here! Say what you damn well like! I’m not afraid to be judged by my own people for having refused to let you turn my Station into a torture chamber. Now! Get out of here, and be quick about it.’

Beneath his breath Gregory murmured, ‘Well done! Well done! May the gods reward you for your courage.’ But a moment later he realised that he was not even temporarily free of Grauber yet. The
Gruppenführer
had not climbed to his eminence as a Gestapo Chief by bullying alone; he had an extraordinarily flexible mind, and much subtle cunning. Quite quietly he turned to his two aides and said:


Heershaft
, I have often told you that you can learn much from the errors of your superiors. It is of great importance to us that I should get the truth out of this man Sallust without delay; but as I am placed at the moment I have not a free hand to do so. In my eagerness, I blundered. Observe, please, this Hungarian officer carefully. Look at his broad forehead, his frank expression and his well-developed jaw. These are the indications of an honest man, a humanitarian and one who has the courage to stick to his convictions. I should have taken stock of those myself, and realised that I could gain nothing by threatening him. We consider that our harsher methods of obtaining information swiftly are justified by the emergencies of war. But in this the Hungarians differ from us. By refusing
to allow us to use our methods of persuasion in his Station, he was only carrying out his standing orders. For that we must admire him. Tomorrow, instead of a complaint, I shall now put in to his superiors a testimonial to his commendable adherence to his duties. To do otherwise would be dishonourable and tend to weaken, instead of strengthen, our ties with our Hungarian allies.’

After pausing for a moment, Grauber turned to the Hungarian and went on. ‘But the
Herr Hauptmann
will appreciate that delay in examining this man may prove fatal to the success, of my mission here. Therefore I cannot doubt that he will agree to a solution which will both enable me to do my duty, and save him from any feeling that he has failed in his. I should have thought of it before. It is so simple. I will sign a receipt for the prisoner and an undertaking that he shall be returned here tomorrow morning in time to face before a magistrate the charge of which he is accused. There can be no objection to that?’

Again Gregory’s heart was in his mouth. The time was still only about ten o’clock. If Grauber were allowed to take him away and wreak his will on him for the next eight or ten hours, all the odds were that he would be returned to the Station a gibbering idiot. Little beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as he kept his eyes riveted on the Captain’s face. But a moment later he could breathe again. The Hungarian shook his head:

‘Thanks for the kind remarks,
Herr Gruppenführer
, but I can’t do that. There is still this question of identity to be settled. And, anyhow, I couldn’t hand a prisoner over to anyone without a formal authorisation.’

Stymied again, Grauber’s small, pale eye darted swiftly from side to side. Gregory knew his mentality so well that he felt sure he could read the thoughts which were now flickering through that unscrupulous brain. He was assessing the chances of a snatch.

Many a time Gestapo agents had raided homes and hotels on foreign soil, dragged their victim from his bed, slugged him unconscious, carried him down to a car, and smuggled him back into Germany. In this case, counting out the victim, there were three of them to the one Hungarian. Going through the outer office they would have to deal with the Sergeant and the policeman on the door; but they had a car waiting outside.
The element of surprise and the use of brute force without scruple might well enable them to pull off a kidnapping and break out.

Gregory moistened his dry lips with his tongue. His thoughts were moving as swiftly as Grauber’s. They might take the Captain by surprise, but not the object of the snatch. He was neither in bed, nor asleep. If they thought they were going to carry him out like a sack of potatoes, they had better think again. He already had his eye on a wooden chair. At his enemy’s first move he meant to snatch it up and charge him with it—legs foremost. Tough as the pouchy German was, he must go down under such an assault. The two brawny thugs might then get the better of the battle in the room, but by the time they had there was a fair hope that the shindy would have brought half-a-dozen Hungarian policemen running to the outer office, and that the last word would remain with them.

BOOK: Traitors' Gate
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