Winter's Bullet (8 page)

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Authors: William Osborne

BOOK: Winter's Bullet
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‘So I thought it might worth seeing if my suspicions were correct. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. And I am very glad I did. You are going to get me out of a lot of hot water.'

‘No!' Tygo knew instantly what van Meegeren had in mind. He was going to turn Willa in to Krüger.

‘I'm sorry, it's nothing personal,' van Meegeren went on. ‘It's just that Krüger is a dangerous man, and I like to keep on the right side of dangerous men. If you please, I have a car outside.'

Neither Tygo nor Willa moved. Van Meegeren sighed, snapped the hammer of the revolver back and fired. Tygo's police cap was blown off his head. He staggered back, shocked.

‘The next one is two inches lower, Wilhelmina. Do you really want to see your knight in shining armour with a hole in his head?'

Willa looked over at Tygo, a mixture of anger and fear in her eyes. Any trust or friendship he might have built had turned to dust.

‘I don't know anything,' she said.

‘Then you have nothing to fear.' Van Meegeren smiled unpleasantly, just as he had when Tygo and Krüger had visited him. ‘Shall we?'

Willa walked slowly towards the front door. Tygo followed her, his head hanging. At the doorway Willa took one quick last look back inside the house. Tygo could see she knew she was never coming back.

Van Meegeren owned a Hansa 1100. It was a small navy-blue saloon, still looking like it had just left the showroom. He had to be one of the few private citizens not working for the authorities that could still run a car. Selling art and information to the Nazis was clearly a profitable business to be in. It also stank. Tygo didn't like to think what would happen to van Meegeren once the war was over.

‘Get in,' ordered van Meegeren, twisting the chrome handle.

It was pitch black inside the boot of the car. Tygo and Willa were crammed tightly together, like two spoons, with Tygo's back against the rear seat.

The car started up after a couple of coughs and pulled away, van Meegeren changing the gears heavily.

‘What are we going to do?' Willa hissed. She didn't sound scared just angry, thought Tygo. Perhaps that was a good thing.

‘I don't know, I'm thinking. We haven't got much time, it's not far to Headquarters.' Tygo felt inside his tunic pocket and found a loose match. ‘Hang on.'

He struck the match on the inside of the boot lid, and it flared brightly. The car slid round a corner and Tygo was forced even closer to Willa. She jabbed him in the ribs. The match burnt Tygo's fingers.

‘Ow!' He lit another, and noticed a bit of old sacking wrapped around something by the wheel arch. He leant over Willa and pulled it towards him. He saw it was a small metal jack, the kind used to lift the car up if there was a puncture. Then the match went out.

‘Quick, shift places with me.'

‘Why?'

‘Just do it if you want me to get us out of here!' Tygo said, losing patience.

Willa rolled on to her back and Tygo slid across her as best he could. He found the jack with his hands in the dark, and wedged it between the floor of the boot and the lid. He quickly started to turn the metal handle, and felt the jack starting to scissor up until the top part made contact with the lid.

The car had pulled to a halt. ‘Are we here?' asked Willa.

‘We can't be yet . . .'

Sure enough, the car set off again, turning another corner. Tygo was now turning the handle slowly, the pressure building on the lid. Suddenly there was a sharp
snap and the catch on the lock gave way. The lid flipped up a couple of inches and Tygo could see out. They were driving through Merwedeplein, getting close to Gestapo HQ.

The car slowed as it reached the bridge over the south Amstel canal. Tygo glanced back at Willa. ‘Let's go!' Without giving her the chance to argue, he grabbed her arm and yanked her forwards, pushing the lid up. They both fell in a heap on the ground, rolling along the icy tarmac.

Tygo was already pulling Willa down the road before the car came to a halt and an astonished van Meegeren got out. He shouted vainly after them, but didn't give chase. It wouldn't have done any good; he would never have caught them.

Ten minutes later Tygo hurried down the stone steps leading to the frozen canal. He was carrying his skates, along with the pistol he had taken from Ursula. Thinking on his feet, he had come up with a plan and the pistol meant that nobody was going to stop him.

Willa was still there waiting for him, tucked back between two storage huts on the towpath.

He smiled at her with relief. ‘I wasn't sure you'd still be here.'

‘I wasn't sure myself,' she replied.

‘I'm going to make it up to you, I swear.' He sat down and quickly took off his boots, strapping on the skates. It was after three o'clock and the light was fading fast.

‘Trust me, this is the safest way for us to get to my shop.' He stepped down on to the frozen ice.

‘What am I supposed to do, fly?' asked Willa.

‘No, stupid, climb on my back. I'm strong.'

Willa looked at him for a moment, then stepped forwards and landed on his back with a little jump. Tygo struggled to keep upright for a second or two, then found his balance.

The terrible winter had taken its toll on Willa, and she was so thin and light that Tygo could easily carry her. He pushed off firmly, and within a few confident strides they were skimming along the frozen surface. He hugged the sides of the moored-up barges and canal boats. The light of oil lamps shone through some portholes as darkness continued to fall.

Willa tightened her grip around his neck with her arms, her legs around his waist as he built up the pace. Tygo swung his arms to keep up the momentum.

‘This is great!' Willa laughed into his ear, and he tried to put on some extra speed. He wondered for a moment if he would make it, but he was determined not to fail Willa again. By the time they reached the Armbrug bridge, Tygo's legs felt like blancmange.

‘I didn't think you could do that,' said Willa as he set her down.

‘Piece of cake,' said Tygo, fighting for breath. ‘Now, listen.' He started to unlace his skates. ‘Once you're safely in the shop, I have to get back to Headquarters right away before Krüger misses me.'

‘I understand.' Tygo could see she had almost forgiven him from before.

Tygo pulled on his boots. ‘There are some metal rungs in the wall.' He pointed, and followed Willa as she started
to climb up by the side of the bridge.

Once they had reached the street, they went round to the back of the shop and shimmied over the high wall using the rope that Tygo had left behind when he escaped on Christmas Day. Nothing had changed at Winter's Locksmiths since, including his bedroom door that the Resistance had smashed down.

‘You'll be safe here,' he said. ‘The Resistance know I don't live here now. There's no food, I'm afraid, but I'll bring what I can when I come back.'

‘You're coming back?' Willa was staring at him sceptically.

‘Yes, of course,' Tygo said.

‘Look, I told that man and I'm telling you, I don't know anything about this diamond, this Red Queen!'

‘Really?' Tygo tried to hide the note of disappointment in his voice.

‘Really. So there's no point, is there, in coming back?'

‘You know, you're a very hard person to be friends with.'

‘We're not friends.'

Tygo stood there a moment longer; he could be as stubborn as she was, he decided.

‘Well, I'm coming back,' he said, ‘Like it or lump it.'

‘Suit yourself,' she said.

‘Fine.'

‘Good.'

If the door had still been on its hinges, Tygo would have slammed it on his way out.

CHAPTER 11

T
ygo made it back to Headquarters by five. The lift wasn't working again, so he sprinted up the stone stairs to the third floor. His legs just about made it. Since the events of the afternoon he had been running on adrenalin.

Krüger was still inside his office. The door was open, as was often the way to let the cigarette smoke out, rather than opening a window to the frigid air. Tygo stood in the doorway, and Krüger glanced at him after a couple of moments and waved him in.

‘Where have you been?'

‘Back to my parents' shop, to fetch some extra tools.'

Krüger nodded, and Tygo started to get a bad feeling
inside. Had van Meegeren already been to see him, he wondered? But no – it seemed unlikely he would come here to tell Krüger he had failed.

Krüger got up from his desk and crossed to the large safe. He unlocked it and took out a velvet pouch before quickly locking the safe again. ‘We've been busy, you and I, these last six months. Here, take a look.'

Krüger returned to his desk and tipped the pouch. A cascade of flashing, iridescent diamonds waterfalled out on to his ink blotter.

‘Do you know what these are?'

Tygo nodded – of course he knew.

‘My future.' Krüger cupped a cluster in his palm. ‘Fate – or rather General Müller – has given me the chance today to secure a very pleasant one.' He fished a small metal tin from his drawer and carefully measured half of the diamonds into it. The rest he returned in their pouch to the safe.

Again Tygo watched Krüger turn the key in the lock and place the key back in his pocket. He unconsciously put his own hands in his pockets, and felt the plug of potter's clay from the day before.

‘Where were you going last night?' Krüger asked the question lightly.

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘You surrendered to a sector 12 patrol in the small hours. What were you doing?'

Tygo felt his face becoming hot.

‘Lie to me and I will have you shot.'

‘I was going back to the villa.'

Krüger stared at him, and Tygo could see his mind working. ‘Van Meegeren spoke of a girl.'

Tygo had to decide what to say. Clearly Krüger already had his suspicions; he had checked up on his movements the night before, and had listened to van Meegeren.

‘She was in the house, up the chimney.'

Krüger walked round from behind his desk. He struck Tygo hard across the face, the first time he had ever done such a thing. Tygo fell back on to the floor, felt his mouth fill with a warm metallic taste.

‘Where is she? Does she have the stone?'

Tygo shook his head, his cheek burning. ‘She wasn't there. I don't know where she is. She must have run, I swear.'

Tygo hoped Krüger would believe him. He swallowed the blood and started to get back up, but Krüger grabbed hold of his collar and hauled him to his feet. God, the man was strong, Tygo had never realized.

‘Are you lying?'

‘She wasn't there! Why would I lie to you? I went to find the stone for you!' Tygo shouted. ‘For you!'

Krüger's eyes bored into Tygo's, then his grip around his neck began to relax. The Oberst let him go and took a step back, thinking.

‘She must have it. That's why she ran. When we return, you and I are going to find her.'

Tygo nodded, then frowned. ‘Return? We're going somewhere, Herr Oberst?'

Krüger nodded. ‘You don't imagine for one moment I am going to let you out of my sight now?' He pocketed
the small tin of diamonds and picked up the black attaché case that General Müller had brought with him.

Outside it was bitterly cold. Krüger's Opel was accompanied by an armoured car front and behind. He was taking no chances. Krüger dropped the case into a metal box, closed the lid and secured the metal latches. ‘Bulletproof and fireproof,' he said before slamming the boot lid. They clambered inside and the convoy moved off. For a moment, Tygo could have sworn he saw Ursula across the street, huddled in a doorway, but when he looked again there was no one there.

They sat in silence as the vehicles made their way through the city, sirens wailing plaintively. It was a horrible sound. Another freezing night would embrace the city, and the terrible winter would gun down a fresh squad of victims.

‘Where are we going?' Tygo asked, his cheek still stinging.

‘Wait and see,' replied Krüger, lighting a cigarette.

Twenty minutes later, a partial answer was provided to Tygo's question as the convoy was waved through the security barrier at Schiphol, the city's main airfield. It was heavily fortified with wire fences and watchtowers, and Tygo could see bomb craters pockmarking the whole area. The convoy's lights cut a narrow path past a line of German fighters and assorted Junker transports, all covered with snow, before driving into a hangar behind the control tower.

‘Bring the box,' Krüger said, climbing out.

Tygo did as he was told and followed Krüger towards the aircraft parked inside the hangar. It was a huge four-engine bomber, the wing positioned on top of the fuselage and with a twin tail. It was the biggest plane Tygo had ever seen, its undercarriage wheels as big as tractor tyres. It was painted a matt black and had simple white stars on its wings and tail.

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