They Used Dark Forces (7 page)

‘Major Bodenstein.' The doctor held out his hand to Gregory. ‘I congratulate you on your safe arrival here. In our unhappy country it is a great joy to welcome men like yourself and your friend Mr. Sabinov who have the courage to come to our assistance in outwitting the evil men in whose hands Germany's future now lies.'

When he had also shaken hands with Kuporovitch, and Gregory had made a suitable reply, he motioned them to chairs, then went on, ‘My daughter has told me that our report about the experimental work at Peenemünde reached those for whom it was intended and that as a result you have been sent to secure more detailed particulars. That will not be easy; but in your endeavours I hope to aid you. Although I live mainly as a recluse I have certain means which are not at the disposal of others by which I can smooth your path. For one thing I have a far larger-scale map of the areas in which you are interested than any you can possibly have seen and a careful study of it will certainly repay you.'

As Dr. Malacou finished speaking he stood up and, turning, pointed to the wall behind him. Gregory had already noticed that, whereas the two sides of the room were lined with shelves of old books, the far one was blank except for two large maps. While Khurrem remained seated, Gregory and Kuporovitch joined her father in front of the maps as he went on:

‘That on the left is of the von Altern property; the one on the right delineates the northern half of the island of Usedom. On it you will see marked the fords by which the creek separating it from the mainland can be crossed at low water. One moment, though. I will adjust the light so that you can see better.'

While they remained standing within a foot of the wall he stepped back behind them. Next moment his voice rang out sharp and imperative.

‘Do not move! I have you covered. Put your hands up above your heads. I have dealt with spies before, so I shall not hesitate to shoot if you disobey me. Khurrem, they are certain to be armed. Relieve them of the temptation to play us any tricks by depriving them of their weapons.'

Gregory and Kuporovitch knew that the doctor could have stepped back no more than two paces behind them. They were two to one and by whirling round there was a fair chance that one of them could grab his pistol and force it downwards, so that as he squeezed the trigger the bullet would go into the floor. Then, between them, they could swiftly have overcome him.

Had they been amateurs, or the doctor a different type of man, they might have taken that chance. But both of them were old hands with firearms. Ample experience had taught them that in the hands of a resolute man only a split second is needed to blaze off with a weapon; and Malacou's command, given in harsh, heavily accented German, left no doubt in their minds that he would shoot without the slightest hesitation. Slowly they both raised their hands.

Swift glances to their rear had shown them that the doctor's brown, ascetic face, capped by its mass of dark, grey-flecked hair, was now menacing and the glint in his black eyes showed that he would stand no nonsense. Nevertheless, Gregory still hoped to get out of the trap into which they had fallen.

Khurrem could not remove the small automatic that he was carrying tucked into his left armpit without undoing his tunic. While her hands were occupied he meant to grab her and swing her round so that she made a shield for his body. He would then only have to drag her sideways so that both of them were between her father and Kuporovitch. His friend could be counted on not to lose a second in pulling out his pistol and, while the doctor would not dare to risk shooting Khurrem, shoot him.

Next moment his hopes were dashed. Malacou's harsh voice
came again. ‘Attempt nothing while Khurrem searches you. If one of you lays a hand on her I will instantly shoot the other.'

With silent fury Gregory realised that they were checkmated. Before lunch that day he had had every reason to fear that he had fallen into a trap; but Khurrem having turned out to be a Turkish woman instead of a Jewess had swiftly exploded the theory he had built up that Frau von Altern had been caught out by the Nazis and another woman substituted for her.

That she was the real Frau von Altern he now had no doubt. The natural way in which Willi von Altern and the servants had behaved towards her was ample evidence of that. No. The trap in which they had been caught was not one that had been hastily arranged because his letter had been delivered to the local Gestapo, leading them to suspect that a secret agent was trying to get into touch with a woman they had already arrested. It was a long-term, carefully thought-out plan.

In recent months the activities at Peenemünde had increased so greatly that the Nazis must have realised that news of them would have reached the Allies. They would then have reasoned that an agent would be sent over to endeavour to obtain fuller particulars. Instead of waiting for an agent to arrive unknown to them, and perhaps succeed in his mission, they must have decided to entice one over. Khurrem's husband had been a Nazi and no doubt she had shared his political convictions; but being of foreign origin she had made excellent bait for the trap. They would only have had to tell her what to put in the message she had sent to Sweden and await results.

As Gregory visualised the full extent of those results he was almost tempted to swing round and make a fight for it. The Gestapo would count on the agent arriving equipped with a wireless. Having caught their man they would torture him until he gave away the code with which he had been furnished. When the messages were received in London it would be thought that they were being sent by him and, as long as they continued to come in, no other agent would be sent out. But the messages would come from the Gestapo, giving false information that the scientists at Peenemünde had met with unforeseen difficulties; so the work there was making little progress, while in reality it was being pressed forward with the
utmost vigour to bring wholesale death and destruction in Britain.

While these thoughts were rushing through Gregory's mind, Khurrem had taken his gun and had run her hands over his body to make certain that he had no other weapons concealed on him. As she stepped across to Kuporovitch, Gregory groaned inwardly, for a further deduction had occurred to him.

The man who had brought Khurrem's message to the British Embassy in Stockholm, whether he had been a Pole or only posing as one, must have been an agent of the Gestapo. His death in a car crash shortly afterwards had evidently been reported as a precaution against any attempt to trace and question him further; and, as all Gestapo operations outside Germany came under Foreign Department UA-1, this cunning plan to protect the secrets of Peenemünde must have been hatched by its Chief, Herr Gruppenführer Grauber.

Gregory was a brave man, but he blanched at the thought. The snare had not been laid for him personally, for Grauber could not possibly have known that he would be the agent sent; but now that agent had been caught he very soon would know, and his delight would be unbounded.

To have fallen into the clutches of the Gestapo was bad enough, but soon to be at the mercy of his most deadly enemy did not bear thinking about. Yet he could not prevent his thoughts racing on. Unless a merciful Providence enabled him to escape, within twenty-four hours or less he would once again be brought face to face with that pitiless sadist. Into his mind there flashed a picture of a gorilla-like figure, made doubly sinister by having the mincing gait and airs of an affected woman. He could even visualise the glint of triumph in Grauber's solitary eye. The other he had smashed in with the butt of a pistol. Grauber had sworn that he should sooner or later pay for that by being kept alive in agony for months and allowed to die only by inches.

Khurrem had disarmed Kuporovitch and Gregory's nightmare imaginings were cut short by Malacou saying in a quieter voice, ‘You may now turn round and lower your hands.'

As they did so, he motioned with the big automatic he was
holding towards two chairs at opposite sides of the room, both of which were well away from his desk, and added, ‘Be seated,
Meine Herren
. My interrogation of you may take some time.'

Swivelling round his own chair he sat down in it, looked across at Gregory and went on, ‘I will begin with you. What is your real name?'

‘I have nothing to say,' replied Gregory firmly.

Malacou shrugged. ‘You are wasting my time. I have means to make you talk; or, anyway, provide answers to my questions. Tell me at least one thing. Have you ever been hypnotised?'

Gregory gave him an uneasy look, then shook his head.

‘Then you would not prove an easy subject. I could, of course, put you under if I summoned my man, had him and Khurrem tie you up, then held your eyes open. And that is what I shall do if you attempt to resist the measures I am about to take. But I have no wish to spend half the night subduing your will to mine. It will be much quicker and more pleasant for us all if you quietly accept Khurrem as your mouthpiece.'

Extremely puzzled, Gregory stared at Khurrem as she came towards him, then went behind his chair and placed both her hands on his head. He knew that hypnotism was accepted by the medical profession and now used by a number of practitioners for relieving pain and for other legitimate purposes. But he did not suppose for one moment that by hypnotising a third party Malacou could get anything out of him and it was evident that that was what the doctor now intended to attempt. Swiftly Gregory decided that to let him try was obviously more sensible than to allow himself to be tied up; since, as long as his limbs were free, there was always the chance that his captor's vigilance might relax and give him an opportunity to turn the tables.

Malacou transferred his pistol to his left hand, rested it on his thigh and, looking steadily over Gregory's head at Khurrem, made a few slow passes with his right. After barely a minute she said in a dreamy voice, ‘You may proceed, Master. I am with him.'

Transferring his gaze to Gregory, the doctor asked, ‘What is your name?'

Gregory kept his mouth tightly shut but, automatically, in
his mind he saw his usual signature on a cheque. Khurrem's low voice came again. ‘It is a little difficult to read. Geoffrey, I think. No, Gregory. And his surname is—but how strange. It is that of the Roman historian, Sallust.'

Utterly amazed, Gregory jerked his head from beneath her hands; but Malacou raised his pistol and rapped out, ‘Don't move! Remember that I can force these answers from you by having you tied up.'

With a sharp intake of breath, Gregory sat back. Once bound, even if he could resist the doctor's hypnotic powers, he would not be able to prevent Khurrem from again placing her hands on his head and, it seemed, extracting a certain amount of information from him. His only defence was to try to make his mind a blank.

As Khurrem's fingertips again pressed down on his forehead, Malacou waited for a moment, then asked, ‘Where were you three nights ago at this hour?'

In spite of himself a picture formed in Gregory's mind. He jerked his thoughts from it and, visualising a brick wall, strove to concentrate on that; but in vain. In flashes his mind persisted in reverting to the original scene, as Khurrem began to speak in a monotonous tone:

‘He resists, but uselessly. It was a warm night and he was sitting in a garden. Seated beside him there is a fair woman. She is very beautiful with a strong resemblance to Marlene Dietrich. She must know that he is about to leave her for, although she smiles bravely, her eyes are red. With them there is another couple; the man Sabinov and a small, dark woman. She is younger than the other, also good-looking and wearing a nurse's uniform.'

‘Mother of God, protect us!' Kuporovitch suddenly burst out in French. ‘This is the Devil's work, otherwise it would be impossible.'

Malacou's thick lips broke into a smile and, using poor but fluent French, he commented, ‘Instead of calling on the Holy Virgin in her remote serenity you would be well advised to speak with respect of the Lord of this World.' Then, turning back to Gregory, he reverted to German. ‘Tell me, Herr Sallust, about this house at which you spent that night.'

Still hardly able to credit the existence of such psychic powers, Gregory stared in bewilderment at the doctor for Khurrem had given an accurate report of the picture that had floated through his mind. Before setting out on their mission he and Kuporovitch had gone up to spend their leave with Erika and Madeleine at Gwaine Meads, Sir Pellinore's ancient property on the Welsh Border. On their last night there, as it had been warm, the four of them had gone out after dinner and sat in the garden. Rendered more vulnerable by Khurrem's success he could not prevent his thoughts from flickering to and fro in response to her father's question.

Khurrem spoke again. ‘It is a mansion. Far larger than Sassen and with many rooms. I see a spacious bedroom. In it there is a bed with a tall canopy. He shares it with the fair woman. I see her then in another room. It is downstairs and much smaller. There are many files in it and she is typing. In the more modern part of the mansion the big reception rooms now contain lines of beds. Young men lie in them and nurses move about among them; so it must be a hospital. I see another part of the garden. It is a big lawn and men in uniform are sitting about there, some with crutches. They are all officers of the British Air Force and there are no German guards to be seen, so this hospital must be in Britain.'

Malacou's dark eyebrows suddenly lifted. ‘Khurrem, are you quite certain of that?'

Despite himself Gregory's mind slipped back to that scene as he had last seen it and after a moment Khurrem replied, ‘It must be so. They cannot be prisoners of war. One of them is cleaning a shotgun.'

‘
Donnerwetter!
' the doctor exclaimed, coming quickly to his feet and laying his pistol on the desk. Then, after making a few swift passes at Khurrem, to bring her out of her trance, he said to Gregory: