Read Codeword Golden Fleece Online

Authors: Dennis Wheatley

Codeword Golden Fleece (37 page)

BOOK: Codeword Golden Fleece
11.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Since the previous morning they had heard little war news, but they discussed the scraps they had picked up in a desultory way. It was said that the Russians had occupied Vilna in the north and had reached the Hungarian border in the south. They had now come face to face with the Germans in many places in Central Poland, but they had not started to fight one another, as many people had hoped they would, and it was even reported that on some sectors the Germans were voluntarily retreating before the advance of the Soviet forces.

They felt that Hitler must be chewing up a lot of carpets in his rage at having to give away captured territory to Stalin. But what else could he do unless he were prepared to take on Russia as well as France and Britain—and the odds were that the German General Staff knew their own business too well to let him do that. He had another headache coming to him, too, if the rumours current that morning were to be believed. The formation of a Czech Legion to fight the Nazis had been announced over a week before, and now, it was said, the principal cities of Bohemia, Moravia and Slovakia were all in open revolt against their German overlords.

After a little Rex said: ‘How’re we going to play this thing?’

‘Going to be pretty tricky,’ murmured Simon. ‘Don’t want any shooting, if we can help it, in the open street.’

De Richleau was just lighting one of his long Hoyos. ‘It is,’ he said, releasing the first cloud of fragrant blue smoke, ‘always a good thing to get quite clearly in one’s mind the object of any operation before one starts to plan it.’

‘That’s easy,’ laughed Rex. ‘The object here is to beat up those blasted Germans and snatch the option off them.’

‘Ner. Beating up’s not part of the object. Might achieve the same end by a trick. The object is to get hold of the option.’

‘Simon is nearer the mark, but you’re both wrong,’ smiled de Richleau. ‘The object is to get the option into the hands of Sir Reginald Kent.’

The other two thought for a minute, then nodded acquiescence, as the Duke went on: ‘You see, that makes all the difference. We have not only to get hold of the thing but to do so in such, a way that there will be no hue-and-cry immediately afterwards which might prevent our getting it to the British Legation.’

‘Suits me,’ said Simon. ‘Means no shooting. But oughtn’t we to
use the codeword when we’re talking about the option in semi-public places, like this?’

‘Sure,’ Rex grinned. ‘I guess you might add a bit to your object, though. Shouldn’t it be “to get the Golden Fleece into the hands of Sir Reginald Kent
at the earliest possible moment
?”’

‘That’s a good amendment,’ agreed de Richleau. ‘Sir Reginald told me that the Iron Guard keep illegal pickets on all the Allied Legations to prevent known Rumanian democrats getting in to give the Allies information about pro-Nazi activities. We can hardly hope that our assault on von Geisenheim and Co. will remain unreported for more than half an hour; and, once it is known at the German Legation, they will warn the Iron Guard and ask them to increase the picket on the British Legation, so that we shan’t be able to get into it.’

‘We’ll have to work mighty fast then.’

‘Unless,’ suggested Simon, ‘we could think of some way of kidnapping von G. and his friends—so that they won’t be able to report us. People at their Legation won’t get anxious about their not turning up for an hour or two. That would give us more time.’

‘That certainly is an idea, Simon,’ de Richleau said after a moment. ‘The devil of it is, though, that there are only three of us, and with their chauffeur there will not be less than three of them. It would be no easy matter for us to overcome three men in a public highway without their raising an outcry.’

‘We could tackle the chauffeur first—while the others are in the house.’

‘True, and one of us could take his place at the wheel of their car.’

‘Holy mackerel!’ Rex exclaimed. ‘You’ve got something there. Then whoever’s driving takes the other two for a ride out into the open country and slugs them quietly, some place where there won’t be any rubbernecks to see the fun.’

‘Aren’t you being a bit optimistic?’ objected Simon. ‘Can’t quite see old von G. and his friend quietly allowing themselves to be driven out of Bucharest, then lamely throwing their hand in to a solitary fake chauffeur.’

‘I’ll drive,’ volunteered Rex, ‘and you two could keep on our tail in the Chrysler. When I pull up we’d be three to two, and even if we have to mix it we three ought to be able to give ‘em the works.’

‘No,’ said de Richleau. ‘That’s no good, Rex. They are sure
to be armed. The moment you turned their car out of the Chaussée Kisseleff they would know something was wrong. The next thing you’d know was that you had a gun-barrel pressed against the back of your neck, and Simon and I, driving along behind, wouldn’t be able to lift a finger to help you.’

Simon nodded his beaky head up and down. ‘Greyeyes is right. We’ve got to get them before they get into their car. Look. How’s this? We tackle the chauffeur first and put him in the back of the Chrysler. We then go into Teleuescu’s garden. Nice and quiet there behind that high wall. Must be a good thirty yards of that glass-covered passage too, between the front door and the gate. We wait till the front door is closed, then jump the other two just before they reach the gate. When it’s all clear outside we carry them out and put them in their car. Rex drives it out into the country while we follow in the Chrysler. Soon as we’ve dumped the bodies and got the Golden Fleece we drive to the British Legation with it, and the trick’s done.’

‘That’s much the best scheme that’s been put up yet,’ said the Duke. ‘The idea of tackling von G. and Co. in the garden is a real brain-wave. I don’t see why both cars should be driven out to the country, though. Surely, once we’ve laid the chauffeur out it would be better to put him into the back of his own car, and the other two on top of him. Two of us are enough to dump them in a quiet spot, and while we are doing that whoever is left to drive the Chrysler can take the option—I mean the Golden Fleece—direct to the Legation.’

‘How’ll the two of us who dump these birds get back?’ asked Rex.

‘Why, in the Germans’ car, of course.’

‘Nope. That’ll be too hot. Much safer to leave them in it.’

‘Perhaps you’re right. We’ll have to walk then, or pick up anything we can.’

‘Who’ll drive the Chrysler?’

‘Simon had better do that. You and I, Rex, will do the laying on of hands in the garden, while Simon stands by. I am thinking now of your very sound amendment to our object. One of them will probably be carrying a brief-case. The moment we have felled them it will be Simon’s job to secure the case and make certain that the option is in it. If not, we’ll search them. Directly he has got it he will leave us to clear up the mess, dash straight to the Chrysler and drive hell-for-leather to the Legation. Even if you and I are caught after that, it doesn’t matter; we shall have
pulled off our coup. But, if all goes well, the three of us will rendezvous as soon as we can get there at the Peppercorn. Is that all clear?’

‘How about if there’s a slip-up?’ asked the cautious Simon.

‘If anything goes wrong we must act according to the dictates of the moment. If there is no other way we’ll have to shoot it out. If we do have to shoot we must shoot to kill, because the gaining of a few seconds before the police come on the scene may mean the difference between success and failure. Rex and I will do the shooting and you, Simon, must not get yourself mixed up in any rough-and-tumble that may occur. Your part is to keep your eye glued to that brief-case and get hold of it somehow. Never mind what is happening to Rex and myself. You’ve got to get the Golden Fleece to the Legation if it’s the last thing you ever do.’

They all realised that there were perforce many imponderables in such an attempt, but it seemed the best plan that they could make with the data they held at the moment and they were satisfied that it had a reasonable chance of success.

Having whiled away an hour they settled their score and drove back along the Chaussée Kisseleff. The part of it in which Teleuescu’s mansion stood was as quiet as Kensington Palace Gardens, and, at this hour, little sign of life was to be seen on either side of it except for occasional lights glimmering through the branches that above high walls screened the big private houses. Yet the broad thoroughfare itself, being the main entry to the city, was never empty down a quarter of a mile of its length for more than a few minutes at a time. In the daytime both sides of it were occupied by a constant stream of buses, cars, lorries, vans,
droshkys
and farm-carts, and even up to a late hour each night there was no part of it in which one could not hear the clop-clop of horses’ hooves and the swish of motor tyres. The best protection that it offered to anyone of criminal intent was the shadow cast by the big trees that lined it on either side, the broadness of its sidewalks and the width of the road, which enabled motor traffic to pass at such a speed that the chances were against its occupants noticing anything that was happening outside the circles of light cast by the arc lamps.

They pulled up the Chrysler halfway between two tall lamp standards and outside the next house but one to Teleuescu’s. It was twenty past ten, so they had ten minutes to go before the Germans were due to arrive. The wait seemed interminable, but
at last a passing car slowed down and drew in to the kerb thirty yards in front of them. Rex had switched his headlights off, so from that distance the Chrysler looked as if it were empty and had been parked there. Two men got out of the car in front and walked purposefully towards the glass portico before which it had halted. As they crossed a belt of light which shone down between two trees from a nearby lamp standard, de Richleau muttered:

‘There they are all right. Better give them a few minutes to get inside.’

Again they waited, for what seemed an eternity, until at last Rex said: ‘Come on, let’s go.’

Slipping in his clutch, he drove quietly up behind the other car. As he brought the Chrysler to a halt a man and a girl came into view; they were strolling slowly along arm in arm in the deep shadow cast by the wall.

‘Hell!’ murmured Rex. ‘We’ll have to give them time to cover a couple of hundred yards before we start anything.’

To the fury and chagrin of the three watchers the couple elected to come to a halt just beside Teleuescu’s portico. The girl leant against the wall and the man embraced her.

De Richleau groaned. ‘Those two may be there an hour! And why in God’s name choose a place opposite two cars to make love in when there are hundreds of yards of dark wall facing the empty street…?’

‘Can’t stay here, now,’ said Simon jerkily. ‘Chap in front must have heard us drive up. If we just sit he’ll start to wonder why we pulled in here.’

‘Get out, Rex,’ urged the Duke. ‘Start to tinker with the engine. Pretend something is wrong. Then go and ask those two the way to the nearest garage in French and German. Anything to break the party up.’

Rex climbed out, lifted the bonnet and played for a moment with the engine. While he was doing so a solitary soldier walked by and, pausing, came up to him to ask for a light. Another two minutes elapsed before the soldier was out of sight. Rex then walked over to the courting couple. Neither of them understood him, but the ruse took effect. The man muttered something to the girl, they both gave a surly look at Rex and, turning, strolled off down the street.

Instead of returning to the Chrysler, Rex walked towards the big limousine in which the Germans had arrived, but at that
moment its chauffeur, apparently not noticing his approach, started it up and began to turn it round so that it would be facing towards the city when his passengers came out of the house.

Guessing that Rex had decided to tackle the limousine driver, de Richleau and Simon had just been getting out to go to his assistance; but they managed to scramble back in time, before the big car swung round towards them. Rex, left halfway across the sidewalk turned a little and, coming back to the Chrysler, resumed his tinkering inside its bonnet.

The Germans’ car had drawn up behind them and faced the other way. It was now dead under the arc lamp, and from a quarter of a mile away anyone in the street looking in that direction could see its driver.

‘We can’t slug him under that light,’ Rex muttered to the others.

‘We’ve got to,’ replied the Duke tersely. ‘Time’s getting on. They’ve been in the house ten minutes already.’

‘Daren’t start a rumpus while we’re getting the chauffeur,’ objected Simon. ‘We’ll never get the others if there’s a row going on in the street when they come out.’

‘We must get the fellow here then,’ de Richleau whispered. ‘Quick, Rex. Say you need his help. Say your torch has given out and you want him to shine a light on your engine for a moment. He’s sure to speak German.’

‘Okay,’ drawled Rex, but just as he was about to leave them a maid-servant came out of a nearby house with a little dog. For five precious minutes she stood about while it sniffed round the nearby trees, and four more pedestrians passed.

At last she went in, and Rex quickly crossed the twenty odd feet that separated the two cars. But, instead of returning after a moment with the other man, as they had expected, he remained there for some minutes talking to him.

The Duke looked at his watch and groaned again. ‘Oh, God, I wish Rex would hurry up! It’s a quarter to, and they may be out any minute now.’

At length they heard approaching footsteps. Making themselves as inconspicuous as they could, they sat well back in the darkened interior of the car. Rex and the Germans’ driver passed within a foot of them, but neither looked inside.

Pausing at the bonnet, they both bent over it, and the chauffeur shone his torch inside. Rex had not dared to disconnect any of
the leads in case they had to get off in a hurry, and there was nothing wrong with the engine. The two inside the Chrysler saw the heavy face of the chauffeur as he leaned over to look down into the bonnet, and they saw Rex suddenly draw back to strike him down from behind. But at that instant they both caught sight of something else as well.

BOOK: Codeword Golden Fleece
11.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney
Phantoms of Breslau by Marek Krajewski
Death Falls by Todd Ritter
The Ever Breath by Julianna Baggott
Watermark by Vanitha Sankaran
Mr. Burke Is Berserk! by Dan Gutman
Dream by RW Krpoun
Ever Fallen In Love by Wendi Zwaduk