Rendezvous With Danger (16 page)

I groaned, covering my head in my hands. ‘I ran in search of Gunther. He made a pretence of telephoning the police, but in actual fact he phoned the two men—Ivan Levos and Harvey Ellis—and then booked us both into the hotel on the outskirts of the town. After dinner he took a cab and went back to Nordlingen for his car, and not long after I saw you climbing the hill, and I thought …' The tears began to fall despite myself. ‘I thought … you … were going to kill me, so I ran …'

‘And took my car?'

‘Yes, I drove to Augsburg and booked into a hotel there. I rang Gunther to let him know where I was and of course he sent Harvey Ellis and Ivan Levos to pick me up. The joke had worn thin as far as he was concerned. I went to buy a morning paper and they kidnapped me in the street. Just like that. When I came round we were well on our way back to Niedernhall … I still thought it was you who was trying to kill me. They encouraged me in that, saying you were at the farmhouse waiting for me. Of course it was Gunther all along. He was … vile.'

‘Did he touch you?' Stephen asked.

I bit my lip, eyes shut tight against a fresh onslaught of tears.

I heard Stephen say quietly, ‘So help me, I'll break every bone in his body.'

And then I looked up and saw his face, harsh and haggard, and I knew that everything, at least where he and I were concerned, was all right. He pulled me roughly into his arms and kissed me hungrily. It was a long time before he let me go.

I looked up at him and said shakily, ‘ I'm sorry I was such a fool, Stephen.'

He pressed my head against his shoulder, winding his fingers in my hair.

‘I was the fool, Susan. I should have levelled with you from the beginning, but I wasn't sure of things and I didn't want to frighten you.'

‘But you'll tell me now?'

‘Of course. Where shall I begin?'

‘With the gun,' I said.

He put his arm around me, holding me close. ‘ I was probably more scared of that damned gun than you were.'

‘But why did you have it?'

He grinned. ‘At the time I wasn't sure myself. The ironic thing is, I never realized about the car. I haven't read a damned paper since I left Munich. It was other things that disturbed me. You remember when we went to Ohringen for a couple of drinks?'

‘And Christina sent me for the booklet so that she could speak to you in private?'

‘Exactly. Anyway that was what started it off. She'd told her father about Herr Cliburn and he was sure there was no one of that name and description staying in Niedernhall.'

‘I remember that, but why …'

‘Don't interrupt,' he said, closing my lips with a kiss. ‘Well, like you, I didn't think any more of it until that incident in the woods, and that, my love, was just
too
much. As you pointed out yourself, you don't use a silencer if you're potting a rabbit. Whoever fired that shot had been aiming it carefully. The shot was fired from the top of the ridge
down
on to the clearing where you were sitting. It couldn't have been an accident.'

‘You mean you knew then that someone had tried to kill me and didn't
say
anything!'

‘What good would it have done? You would only have been scared silly. It was obvious from your behaviour that you didn't know what was happening. I decided I'd better make it my business to know, and I started off with Herr Cliburn. No one had heard of him. Then I rang Christina. She said her father was quite firm about there not being a resident of the village with that name, and that he wasn't one of the regulars who spend part of the summer here. It was Christina who suggested the farm. Apparently it's often let during the summer months.'

‘So you went up to find out?'

‘Yes. My car didn't take very kindly to that dirt track, so I left it half-way up and walked the rest of the way. I was still about twenty yards away when your friend careered out of the woods, nearly running me down. He was in a foul temper and had been drinking heavily. It soon developed into quite a slanging match. He said he didn't like strangers nosing around his property and that there was no one of the name of Cliburn staying there and to beat it. But one thing I did get a nosy at was his car, and on the back seat was a rifle.'

‘If it had been Ivan Levos you had spoken to and not Harvey Ellis, he would have killed you there and then.'

‘He may have tried,' Stephen said dryly. ‘Anyhow, I'd seen enough to make me uneasy. Cars don't get stolen and then returned with such a minimum of fuss. And people don't get as excited as Ellis did over a harmless trespasser. I was pretty sure the rifle in his car wasn't coincidence and I decided that the first thing to do was to get you out of Niedernhall.'

‘So …'

‘So I went to Koblenz.' He pressed his fingers gently against my lips to silence my next question. ‘
Because
it just so happens I have an old school friend, Paul Beincen, living there, who not only speaks English on account of having an English mother, but is also a police officer.'

‘Oh, so you told him and he …'

‘Not so fast, Susan. He wasn't at home. His sister was there and gave me dinner, but Paul was away for two weeks on a training course.'

‘So it was a wasted journey?'

‘Not quite,' he said, with a sheepish grin. ‘I borrowed his gun.'

‘You did
what!
' I cried, jumping to my feet. ‘ You took a gun belonging to a German police officer! Stephen, do you realize what could happen to you, they could …'

‘Ssssh, don't get so excited. He won't miss it until he gets back, and after all, it did seem as if I might need it …'

‘But, Stephen, you wouldn't actually have
used
it, would you?'

‘Not unless I had to.'

‘Stephen …'

‘I booked us into this hotel, the Alte Post, though
not
, I may add, as Frau Maitland, and after you'd agreed to come with me, went back to Ohringen to collect my things and try and get in touch with Paul again. Then I heard about Christina, and the way she'd died. I drove over to Niedernhall like a madman but it was too late. You'd gone. The ironic thing is, I never realized about the car, I never saw the papers. If I'd had proof like that I would have been in the first police station.'

‘How did you trace me as far as Nordlingen?'

‘Luck mainly. Among the people standing outside Frau Schmidt's was the man who had served you in the coffee-bar. I was asking everyone if they had seen you or your car, and he had. He said you'd taken the Schwabisch Hall road. I hared off after you but without success. I drove through Schwabisch Hall and as far as Crailsheim before I gave up. Then I doubled back to Schwabisch Hall and began a tour of the streets.'

‘And the bars.'

‘Eventually.' He grinned. ‘That
really
put the cat among the pigeons. The barman remembered you very well. He gave me a most glowing account of your rapturous reunion with his fellow countryman. He probably thought, by my behaviour, that I was an outraged husband, and he really went to town.'

I blushed shamefacedly. ‘It was just that I'd been so frightened and …'

He silenced me in mock reproach. ‘ Never mind the excuses. You've a lot to answer for, young lady. What he said really took the wind out of my sails, I can tell you. I didn't know what to make of it. The barman had seen you studying a map and had overheard Gunther mention Augsburg. So, like Alice, muttering curioser and curioser, I headed as fast as I could in the same direction.'

‘Until you got to Nordlingen and saw Gunther's car.'

‘I waited by that damned car for over an hour. Then I did what was becoming routine. Rang all the hotels and guest-houses and finally traced you about eight o'clock.'

‘What made you hide the car and walk up to the hotel?'

‘I'm not sure. Some sixth sense that I wish I'd never heeded! I asked for you at Reception and was told that Fraulein Carter was not receiving visitors. When I insisted, I was told that I must wait and see her Doctor, Herr Cliburn, who had gone to Nordlingen for medical supplies. That did it. I was sure then that you were being held against your will. I was just making my way to the back of the hotel to see if I could force an entrance when I saw you running and jumping down the hillside like a maniac. It never occurred to me that you were running away from
me.
How I didn't break a leg chasing after you I'll never know. Then, when you did see me, instead of running gratefully into my arms, you ran even harder and stole my car!'

‘I'm sorry, Stephen. Really I am.'

He shook his head. ‘ I sat down on the edge of that road, trying to decide who was mad, you or myself.'

I squeezed his hand. ‘The hotel staff definitely thought it was me, by the way they behaved. I'd seen your torch bobbing about, getting nearer and nearer and when I was sure it was you I dashed to the reception desk to ask them to phone the police, with the result that I found myself being firmly taken to my room and very nearly locked in.'

Stephen laughed. ‘ My poor Susan. How did you convince them of your sanity?'

‘I didn't. But when they'd gone back downstairs I sneaked out by a rear exit.' ‘And drove straight to Augsburg?'

‘Yes. What did you do, Stephen? Hire another car?'

‘I walked back to Nordlingen, booked into a hotel and spent the most wretched night of my life trying to reason things out. Next morning I rang the hotel on the off chance you had returned. You hadn't, but this time they were helpful. They said Fraulein Carter had booked out of the hotel and gone to the St Wolfgang, Augsburg.'

‘But how did they know that?'

‘When you phoned Gunther from Augsburg, he obviously made his mind up there and then as to how he would deal with us both. He sent Ellis and Levos to pick you up early next morning and take you back to the farm, and left a clear trail for me to follow, from Augsburg to Oberammergau. That way, Gunther would know just where I was when he had settled with Ellis and Levos and murdered you. All he had to do was catch up with me here on his way to Munich and a flight back to Brazil. Most convenient for him.'

‘Except that I got away and you didn't go to the Furstenhaus.'

‘No. As I'd already got a booking here I stuck to it.'

‘I'm glad.'

He kissed me again and I was too happy to feel any fear at the thought of Gunther. I said, ‘What are you going to do now? Ring the police?'

‘Yes. I'd better not waste any more time.'

He squeezed my shoulder. ‘I'll phone from the reception desk. The manageress speaks reasonable English and I may need someone to help me out.'

‘I'll come with you. I can get a coffee while you're phoning.'

Hand in hand we walked down the corridor and into the hall. The manageress smiled, pleased with our reconciliation. I left Stephen to explain things to her and went in search of the dining-room. It was eight o'clock now and all six tables were taken. I paused, trying to estimate if anyone was about to leave, but the chattering couples and families showed no sign of moving. A waiter approached anxiously, and asked if I could wait a half hour or so.

‘
Nein
,' I replied. ‘I only want a coffee, nothing else. Please don't bother.'

Through the picture windows I had a clear view of the street. There was no sign of Gunther Cliburn. Across the narrow road was a village shop selling souvenirs, sweets and newspapers. I hesitated and then went back to the reception desk.

Stephen seemed to be doing quite well. The manageress was following his conversation with open-mouthed amazement. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was nearly over. Ahead of us were some hours of police questioning, but it was nearly over, and I was safe and Stephen was safe.

Across the street I could see the headlines of the papers and recognized the name of Herr Ahlers. I gazed searchingly up and down but there were only tourists and villagers. Opening my bag I took out the marks I needed for the paper, then ran quickly down the short path to the gate, and sprinted across the street.

It was a beautiful day. In front of me, rising sheer above the whitewashed walls of chalets and hotels, was a precipitous wall of rock. A giant crag jutted menacingly above the village, its silver-grey face devoid of the grass and trees that clothed the lower slopes. I shivered, averting my eyes to the lush meadows, thick with summer flowers of white and yellow, and to the flamboyant religious frescoes that decorated the walls of the houses lining the street.

The doorway of the little shop was jammed with camera-slung tourists. I squeezed round a generously-built American woman in red gingham and took a newspaper from the rack. The only photographs on the front page were of Herr Ahlers and his widow and family. With difficulty I managed to open the centre page and had a glimpse of the car before the press of people jostling me forced me to close it.

‘Sorry, honey, was that your foot?' It was the American woman.

‘It's all right,' I assured her, trying to reach the counter.

‘Why, Hamilton. Just you come here a minute. The young lady here is English! You are English, honey, aren't you?'

I nodded.

‘I knew it. I just knew it! Why, we've just this minute left England. What a lovely country that is! Hamilton and I just fell in love with it, didn't we, honey? We spent two whole days in Edinburgh and two in Stratford-upon-Avon where your great poet was born, and three days in London looking at all the sights. Do you come from London, Miss …'

‘Carter. Susan Carter.' I said, trying to catch the eye of the young boy behind the counter.

‘Well, we surely are pleased to meet you, Miss Carter. I'm Myrtle Bosemann and this is my husband, Hamilton.'

An equally large American with a beaming smile and a flowered shirt shook my hand enthusiastically.