Rendezvous With Danger (7 page)

‘Not actually at the farmhouse, but in the woods near the track leading to it.'

‘And he was talking to this man?'

‘Yes.' Then, as the expression in Gunther's voice penetrated my numbed brain, I said: ‘But Stephen can't possibly know what's happened. It was just a coincidence.'

‘All the same, Susan, if he comes before I get there, say nothing to him. Just in case.'

‘Don't be ridiculous, Gunther. I must tell him as soon as possible for his own sake.'

‘I am not being ridiculous,' Gunther said angrily. ‘Your Mr Maitland left a message for you last night saying he was going to Koblenz, remember? Now either you are mistaken or he is lying. And if he's lying I'd like to know why. Another thing. He was practically driving with those two men, wasn't he? You told me yourself he wasn't very far behind them. Promise me you will say nothing to him until I've reported it all to the police.'

‘All right, all right.' I said miserably. ‘ He won't be coming now anyway.'

‘I know you think I am being overcautious, Susan. But if he is involved, and he realized how much you know … It just isn't worth the risk. I don't want any harm coming to you.'

Neither did I. The phone went dead and I put it slowly back on its cradle and stepped out into the street.

I didn't want to think about it any more, least of all of Stephen and where he fitted in. I would listen to what Gunther had to say when he came, see the police to give a description of the two men, then pack my bags and go further south.

Having come to this decision, I felt better and walked back to Frau Schmidt's.

I lay down on my bed, and incredible though it seems, actually slept, or rather dozed, for it could only have been half an hour or so before I was awakened by loud knocking. Hastily I jumped up and ran across to the window. The car parked at the roadside was Stephen's.

I hurried downstairs. One thing was certain: if he had come, even though several hours late, to take me to Wies, he was out of luck. I couldn't leave the house till Gunther returned from the police station. Stephen stood in the open doorway, relaxed and smiling.

‘Are you ready?' he said quite pleasantly and calmly.

‘Am I ready?' I exclaimed unbelievingly, hardly able to believe my ears at his impertinence. ‘I've been ready since seven-thirty this morning. What happened?'

‘You got my message last night?'

‘Yes, but …'

‘Then you'll understand. I didn't get back from Koblenz until three in the morning, and as I'm a growing boy and need my sleep …'

‘You mean you actually
went
to Koblenz last night?'

Dark brows lifted in surprise. ‘ But of course,—that's why I left a message. I knew I'd be late getting back and that I'd never make it over here by seven. I must have been mad to think I could anyway. Getting up early isn't one of my virtues.'

I stared at him, bewildered. ‘What time did you leave?' I managed to ask.

‘What's this—the inquisition?' he asked good-humouredly. ‘I left immediately I dropped you off. Well, not quite immediately, but when I got back to Ohringen there was a message for me requiring my presence in Koblenz. By rights I should have stayed the night, but as I had a date this morning with a particularly beautiful young woman, I spared no expense in getting back as quickly as possible. Now, are you ready?'

I simply couldn't stop staring at him. ‘Did you drive there in that?' I said at last, nodding in the direction of the car.

‘Yes. It may not be a Mercedes and what you're used to of late, but it's quite serviceable, and more than capable of making the journey to Koblenz and back in an evening. There's no need to be nervous. It won't suddenly die a death miles from anywhere, leaving us stranded.' He took a step towards me. ‘What is it? Something bothering you? You don't look well.'

‘I …'

‘Come on.' He took my arm. ‘Let's sit in the car. Clowning apart, Susan, I really am sorry about this morning. But it was unavoidable.'

He opened the car door for me and I sat obediently in the passenger seat.

‘You don't look at all well this morning,' he repeated. ‘What's wrong?'

‘Nothing. It's just a headache.'

‘Have you taken anything for it?'

‘No, it isn't that bad. I must talk to you, Stephen. Something …'

‘All in good time. First, I'm getting you something for that headache. You look like death.'

‘No, Stephen. Please! …'

But he had already darted across the road into the chemist's. I took a deep breath, trying to think and to think straight. Why on earth was Stephen so persistent in saying he had gone to Koblenz? If he
had
gone, he hadn't left Niedernhall until well after eight o'clock.

I reached for a cigarette but my handbag was still indoors. Without thinking I opened Stephen's glove compartment to see if he had left his cigarettes there.

The gun was loosely folded in a yellow duster, and visible. It looked brand new. I reached out and touched it lightly with my finger-tips. The cold metal was no figment of my imagination. This, at least, was real.

I was aware of Stephen standing on the opposite side of the road, waiting to cross, and I shut the door on it hastily. Sick and trembling, I stared straight ahead as he opened his door and slipped in next to me. I didn't want to look at him any more. All I wanted to do was go back into the house, shut the door, and try desperately to pretend none of this was happening.

‘Here, take these, they'll make you feel better. Perhaps going out this afternoon isn't such a good idea after all. Anyway you'll need this afternoon to pack.'

‘Pack!' I faced him in amazement.

‘Nothing elaborate. Just enough for two or three days. We can tour around, go where the fancy takes us.'

‘I'm sorry. I really can't.'

‘Nonsense, Susan. It will be great fun.'

I shook my head. ‘No, Stephen, I mean it. I'm not coming.'

I could see two or three cars approaching the village from the direction of Kunzelsau and felt a little better. Gunther wouldn't be much longer and then I could pack my bags and go south, forget completely about Stephen's existence …

‘Susan, I don't want to make an issue of this, but I want you to come with me.'

It wasn't a request, it was a command.

I forced myself to look straight at him. It was obviously useless to argue. ‘All right then,' I agreed. ‘Why not?'

Why not indeed? By the time he came for me I would be well on my way to the Alps.

‘That's my girl. You won't regret it, I promise you. I'll be back for you about four-thirty. If I were you I'd lie down for a while. Those aspirins should start working soon.'

There was a large red car in the distance, similar to Gunther's heading towards the village …

Stephen was saying, ‘Well, I'd better be moving. Four-thirty then.'

Mechanically I smiled, went through the motions of saying goodbye to him and stood at the kerb until his car disappeared from view.

The red car turned out to be a Volkswagen loaded with farming materials. I went back to my room and lay once more on the bed, trying to understand the events of the last twenty-four hours. It was stifling hot in the little room and my headache was growing worse.

I supposed that, if their car hadn't crashed, the men would have driven to the farm and hidden out there until the immediate hunt for them was eased. Perhaps Stephen's absence this morning meant that he was removing them from the farm and from the vicinity altogether now that the car had been found. But why was he involved with the assassins of Herr Ahlers? Were his motives political? Financial? … And what was this about taking me away for a few days? Stephen knew I could give a description of the men. Was it a trap to get me out of the way, to silence me before I talked? It was possible. Anything was possible. I blinked the sudden tears from my eyes, got off the bed to search for a handkerchief.

The shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted me. I hurried down the wooden stairs, practically snatching the receiver off the hook, convinced it was Gunther. The barely discernible voice of a man said curtly, ‘Leave immediately.' Then the line went dead.

I stood rigid, the receiver against my ear, the tide of fear threatening to engulf me completely. Although the voice had been unrecognizable, it hadn't held a German accent.

With trembling hands I dialled Gunther's number. There was no reply. He must still be with the police. I looked at my watch. It was an hour since I'd phoned him. He couldn't be much longer, he just
couldn't
!

I went back to my room, my heart thumping. One thing I could be doing while I waited was to pack my things. I needed no nasty anonymous phone calls to encourage me to leave: the sooner I saw snow and the Alps, the better I'd be pleased. As for Stephen Maitland … Charlotte always said I had a lousy taste in men, and for once I agreed with her.

I began flinging skirts and dresses haphazardly into my case and travelling bag, then went in search of Frau Schmidt, to apologize for my abrupt departure. She was nowhere to be found. I put twice the amount of money she would have expected into an envelope and left it in her room with a brief note. I would ask Gunther to explain and apologize for me. Within fifteen minutes I had carried my bags down to the car and had them safely stowed away. I felt the comforting metal of the key-ring in my pocket. A sandwich, a cup of coffee, and I would make my exit. If I went across to the coffee-bar I could see the entrance to the house quite clearly. There would be no danger of my missing Gunther.

For the second time that day I sat at the same window-table. The sandwich, with its generous filling of chicken and chopped ham, would, any other time have been delicious, but I wasn't in the mood to appreciate it at this moment.

A new, unbearable thought was forming slowly in my mind. The more I thought of the events I had so unwittingly been caught up in, the more sinister the ‘accident' in the woods seemed. Was it possible that the bullet had really been intended for me? That they knew I had seen them, could identify them? Had I been ‘set up', and by Stephen?

The more I thought of it, the more certain I became that the shooting was deliberate. It was all too much of a coincidence, too neat. Stephen's presence on the tail of the killers, his interest in me, the trip out to the isolation of the woods. If the bullet had hit me, it would have been weeks, months even, before I was found. And now his urgency to take me away for a few days …

Walking in the direction of Frau Schmidt's, on the far side of the village street, was Christina. I rose from the table, calling to her from the open doorway. Her face broke into a wide grin, and with an acknowledging wave she began to thread her way across the crowded street. I ordered another coffee and went back to wait for her. Her gaiety, when she joined me, was like a breath of fresh air.

‘This is most fortunate, Susan. I was just on my way to return your scarf to you.'

‘Oh, Christina, I hope you didn't come all this way for that.'

She laughed. ‘It was no trouble. My father has gone to Bad Mergentheim and he dropped me off on the way. To tell the truth, I was reluctant to bring it back at all.' She fingered the fine silk enviously. ‘ It's a beautiful scarf, very Bond Street!'

Impulsively, I said, ‘Keep it.'

She looked up, startled. ‘I couldn't possibly do that. I didn't mean …'

‘I know you didn't, but please take it. It will suit you far better than it does me. Red never was my colour.'

She put the scarf over her head, turning to see her reflection in the window.

‘Thank you very much, Susan. It's beautiful.'

Then she said innocently, ‘I thought you were going out with Stephen today?'

My smile faded. ‘ There was a change of plan. Actually I'm leaving here today.'

‘Oh? Stephen is leaving as well.'

I looked up sharply. ‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes, I heard him asking my father for his bill this morning.'

I stared at her. It seemed that Mr Maitland and his friends were about to make a speedy withdrawal. Unless they were already in the hands of the police. I glanced at my watch. It was an hour and a half since Gunther had gone to them. It was possible. Any feeling I may have had for the handsome and charming Mr Maitland died a rapid death. Whatever happened to him, he deserved …

‘I believe Stephen is calling at Oberammergau,' Christina said. ‘He made a phone call to the Alte Post this morning.'

‘He may only have been phoning a friend there—he seems to have lots of friends scattered about Germany.'

‘If it was a friend, he works on the reservation desk.' She stirred her coffee thoughtfully. ‘I don't know what's the matter with Stephen this last day or two, he's been like a bear with a sore head.'

It was a little while before either of us spoke again. I was mentally planning a route southwards that would give Oberammergau the widest berth possible, and Christina was pondering on her guest's change of personality. It was a great temptation not to tell her exactly what kind of man the devastating Mr Maitland really was, and why he had such a lot on his mind, but I resisted the urge. She would find out the truth soon enough.

My thoughts were interrupted by her saying cheerily, ‘Have a good journey, Susan. I must go now. My father is picking me up at the crossroads at three. There are all the teas to prepare yet, and as for the scarf, I don't know how to thank you. I am glad to have met you.'

I watched her as she walked quickly down the crowded street past Frau Schmidt's, the scarlet headsquare bobbing distinctively between the sombre, black-shawled heads of the village women. It could almost have been myself heading towards the bridge. I glanced once more at my watch. It should be myself. Enough of my holiday had been ruined already. Purposefully I rose and paid the bill. I would go via Kunzelsau, meeting Gunther on the way, or at the police station. I could say goodbye to him there, discharging my public duty at the same time. And make my way to Austria.