The Satanist (39 page)

They all recalled the account Khune had given of the break-up of his marriage, and realised how greatly he must have suffered at his brother’s hands; yet, even so, the seething hatred with which he spoke left them silent for a minute. Then Verney said:

‘It is essential that he should be caught with some document on him that he has received from you, or at least receive such a document within sight of a witness, even if he throws it away afterwards. I take it you are willing to make out a dud formula, go to the rendezvous, and give it to him?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Good. We shall draw a cordon round the place and, unless we are very unlucky, catch him within a few minutes of his leaving you. I must say, though, I wish you hadn’t chosen such an exposed position as this Lone Tree Hill, because it means that, to keep under cover until the meeting
has taken place, Forsby’s men will have to take up positions a good half mile away.’

Khune shrugged. ‘That can’t be helped. There are limits to what one can convey on the astral, and it had to be some place that he could easily identify. I had nothing of this kind in mind at the time, but I meant to tell him that up there some bird-watcher might chance to see us through a pair of binoculars; so, before I handed him the paper, it would be best for us to walk down to the wood on the far side of the slope. It was there that I meant to kill him.’

‘I’d like you still to carry out that idea as, about fifty yards inside the wood, we could arrange an ambush and he would have much less chance of slipping through our fingers.’

When Khune had agreed, they continued to talk about Lothar for a further quarter of an hour; then it was settled that they should all meet at half past nine next morning and go out to reconnoitre Lone Tree Hill. Forsby accompanied the others out into the avenue and, when they had said good night to Khune outside his bungalow, walked on with the visitors to theirs. As they halted in the doorway, C.B. said:

‘Well, Dick, we’ve had a lucky break. I’m very much happier about this job than when I arrived here this afternoon.’

‘So am I.’ Forsby nodded. ‘In the worst case now, if Lothar does get away, it will be only with a useless bit of paper. All I hope is that he doesn’t get wind of what is in the air and fail to turn up.’

‘I regard that as much less likely than I did an hour ago. He can’t be as sensitive as I feared to what goes on in Otto’s mind, otherwise he would have tumbled to it on Thursday night, when Otto agreed to go to London, that he didn’t mean to bring the formula with him, and instead had cooked up an idea for doing him dirt.’

‘That’s true, Sir,’ Barney commented. ‘All the same, wouldn’t it be best to leave Otto behind when we make our reconnaissance tomorrow? If Lothar took it into his head to have a look at him, and saw him with us selecting hideouts
from which to trap him, it’s a certainty that he’d call his visit off.’

‘Good for you, young feller.’ Verney turned to the Squadron-Leader. ‘Sullivan’s right, Dick. We can’t be too careful. Slip along to Otto now. Tell him to try to put tomorrow’s business out of his mind before he goes to sleep, and that you are going to reinstall the old tape recorder just in case Lothar comes through to him during the night. And that tomorrow we would like him to remain in his bungalow till lunch time.’

On that, they exchanged good nights and Forsby left them. Tired after their long day, they fell asleep within a few minutes of getting into bed and did not wake until Harlow called them with cups of tea and told them he would be bringing them breakfast in half an hour.

At half past nine Forsby came along to them with the most welcome news that Klune had spent his first untroubled night for nearly a fortnight and that the tape on the recorder remained completely blank. They then set out in Forsby’s car on their reconnaissance.

Between the Station and Lone Tree Hill there lay a stretch of wooded high ground, so they did not come in sight of the hill until they were within a mile of it; but then they could see that on three sides it was surrounded by open moorland. Turning off the main road, Forsby drove across the bridge and some way along the track that skirted the base of the hill till he reached a path that wound up it. Getting out, they walked the half mile to its summit, had a good look round, then made their way through the knee-deep heath and young bracken down to the wood.

By eleven o’clock they were on the way back to the Station and had made their plan. Verney was to lie in wait in the wood, with six of the police, and the remainder were to be posted at intervals in two semi-circles round the hill behind such boulders and gorse bushes as offered the best cover. As it seemed obvious that Lothar must arrive by car and would approach the hill from the road, that segment of the circle was, to begin with, to be left open. But Forsby and
Barney were to keep the bridge under observation from the wooded rise between the hill and the Station. When they saw Lothar cross the bridge they were to drive down the road in Forsby’s car, get out and, with his two rods, start fishing in the stream. By that time Lothar should be sideways on to them and half way up the hill, so could hardly fail to see them. This stratagem they hoped would serve the dual purpose of cutting off his retreat to the road and inducing him readily to accept Otto’s suggestion that, before he handed over the paper, they should move down the far side of the hill into the wood, and so be out of sight of the fishermen.

At midday they had some sandwiches in Forsby’s bungalow and at half past he went to the police quarters to brief Ms men. The importance of the affair was impressed upon them and the necessity to remain absolutely still in their cover until they heard two blasts of a whistle. They were then to spring up and, if any running figure was in view, make for it, otherwise to remain stationary. Then were they issued with one round blank and four of ball cartridge apiece, but told that they were not to fire upon the wanted man unless he either threatened then with a weapon or, having broken through the cordon, looked like getting away unless he was brought down.

Soon after one o’clock Verney, in a jeep driven by Harlow, collected Khune, who was waiting ready dressed in his old raincoat and blue beret. A lorry with Forsby on its box transported the rest of the security police, and Barney, driving Forsby’s car, brought up the rear of the procession as far as the wooded slope.

By half past one the men were all in position and getting down into their cover. Verney and Forsby took a last look round from the top of the hill, then left Khune there - the one to disappear into the wood, the other to drive back in the lorry and join Barney. Harlow followed in the jeep and reversed it under the trees so that, should Lothar succeed in getting back to his car, he could be pursued by road without a moment’s delay.

As is so often the case in early May, the weather was pleasant and warm enough to have spent this Sunday afternoon dozing among the ling on the moor, but from two o’clock onwards over twenty very wakeful pairs of eyes kept watch on either the road or the hill-top. Between a quarter past two and a quarter to three, four car-loads carrying families of picnickers passed from the Station on their way inland towards the foothills of the rugged mountains that formed the skyline in the distance, but the majority of the Station’s personnel preferred to laze at home, tend their gardens, or spend their afternoon on the beach. No car approached from the other direction.

By three o’clock all those concerned were beginning to feel the strain of watching; by half past, Verney was beginning to fear that Lothar did not, after all, mean to keep the appointment he had made for between two o’clock and four. By four o’clock he had resigned himself to disappointment, but he decided to give Lothar another half hour. That half hour dragged interminably, yet even after it he held his hand for a further five minutes before blowing his whistle.

As soon as Forsby saw movement on the hillside, he ordered up the lorry. The security police were collected and the Squadron-Leader, with Barney beside him, picked up Verney and Khune. As they got into his car, he said resignedly, ‘Well, it’s not the first time that I’ve had that sort of wait for nothing, and I don’t suppose it will be the last. Lothar must have smelt a rat.’

‘You’ve said it, partner,’ agreed C.B.

‘I wonder what his next move will be,’ Barney hazarded.

‘God alone knows!’ For once Verney’s voice was a shade petulant. ‘Anyhow, there’s no point now in our remaining here. We’ll get back to London as soon as possible.’

‘It will take some while to get your aircraft ready,’ Forsby told him, ‘and you had only sandwiches for lunch, so to fill in time I propose to give you a good solid tea at the Club.’

‘Thanks, Dick. I must say it would be welcome.’

When they turned into Bachelors Avenue the little Squadron-Leader again broke the gloomy silence. ‘I’m going to get out here. Sullivan can take over the wheel again and Khune will show him the quickest way to the Club. Meanwhile I’ll get on the blower, locate your pilot, and tell him you want to get off. Then I’ll have Harlow pack your bags and I’ll bring them along to the Club in about half an hour’s time. You’ll act as host to our friends until I can join you, won’t you, Khune?’

‘Of course. It will be a pleasure,’ replied the scientist.

The change over was made and Barney drove off round the Headquarters building. As they came out alongside the quadrangle of lawn in front of it, Khune said:

‘It will be an hour at least before they have found your pilot and got your aircraft ready. It always is. Would it interest you to spend ten minutes having a look at my laboratory, and seeing the sort of stuff my swine of a brother is so keen to get his hands on?’

‘Yes, I’d like to,’ Verney replied. ‘Although it may be only a jelly to look at, the thought of the way it can propel tons of metal at thousand of miles an hour through the air is fascinating.’

Khune directed Barney to drive the car round to the back of one of the big steel and glass blocks, and at an entrance to it that had above the doorway, in bold lettering, ‘
A FIVE
’, they all got out.

As it was a Sunday the door was shut, but Khune pressed a bell-push and after a few minutes it was opened by a portly elderly man, in a dark blue uniform. He gave Khune one look, then his eyes grew round and he exclaimed:

‘Lord alive, Sir! Did you have a crash?’

‘Crash! What d‘you mean?’ Khune frowned.

‘Why, for the moment I thought you was a ghost. Can’t be more than an hour and a half since you left for Scotland.’

‘Scotland?’

‘Yes, Sir. You came here round half past two. Special
order, you said. Needed urgent for our place in the ‘Ebrides. I got hold of Tommy Carden and we loaded twenty drums out of the store on to a runabout. He drove you with it out to the airstrip and when he got back he told me you meant to deliver it yourself and had gone off with it in a plane. Leastways, that’s what I thought he said.’

Verney, Khune and Barney stared at the man dumbfounded. The same awful thought was in all their minds. Lothar had never intended to keep the appointment on Lone Tree Hill. He had made it only to get Otto out of the Station for the afternoon. He had arrived there in an aeroplane and impersonated his brother. He had not got the formula, but he had done far better. He had made off with twenty drums of the fuel all ready for use.

Verney was quick to realise that unless he intervened at once, Otto might say something that would start all sorts of undesirable rumours running round the Station, so he glanced at his watch and said:

‘I really think we ought to postpone our visit to your laboratory, Mr. Khune, until after we have been along to the airstrip. Perhaps we’ll have time to see it later.’

Khune gave him a blank stare for a moment, then took the hint, muttered something to the doorkeeper about ‘change of plans’ and turned back to the car. They all got in it and, as soon as the engine was running, he exclaimed:

‘It must have been Lothar! How utterly damnable! Yet there’s no other explanation.’

‘None, I’m afraid,’ C.B. agreed grimly. ‘I didn’t want you to start cross-questioning that chap, because the fewer people to get wind of it that something’s wrong, the better.
He was quite definite though, and he can hardly have been dreaming. We’ll know for certain as soon as we get to the airstrip. Is it usual to send the stuff up to Scotland in an aircraft?’

‘Yes. It’s not only quicker, but safer, than rail, and if some of it went astray….’ Khune broke off short, and ended with a groan.

‘It looks as if twenty drums of it has! Is that the normal quantity in a consignment?’

‘No. Usually we send eighty to a hundred drums at a time.’

‘Lothar was clever then, in not opening his mouth too wide. The doorkeeper must assume that you know your own stock, and he might have thought it fishy if Lothar, whom he took to be you, had asked for a greater number than there happened to be available. I take it, too, that quite a small part of what he’s got would be sufficient for him to have the stuff analysed, and after that there would be no limit to the quantity that could be made up?’

‘The analysis would take time, and they might not get the formula exactly; but near enough. And the Russians have many clever chemists, so that might even improve on it.’

‘How often do you send consignments up to Scotland?’

‘As required; but, on average, about once every three weeks. We send larger consignments now to Australia for the I.C.B.M. range there, but less frequently.’

By this time they were approaching the air strip. The aircraft that had taken the American up to Farnborough that morning, and since returned to collect C.B. and Barney, stood at one end of it; but evidently Forsby had not yet succeeded in getting hold of the pilot, as there was no sign of life. Neither was there any sign of life near the two hangars, in the control tower or at the building that housed the small ground staff. Barney drove up to the latter and they got out.

The building contained only an office and off-duty room on the ground floor and a dormitory for half-a-dozen men
above. Verney hurried into the office, found it deserted, then crossed the passage and strode into the room opposite. An R.A.F. Corporal was lounging there with his feet up, reading a Sunday paper. Verney addressed him sharply.