Captive Witness (9 page)

To his surprise, it opened easily. Both he and Nancy slipped through onto the first floor, which was surprisingly neat, clean, and well painted. They found themselves in a room with racks and racks of films.

“It’ll take hours to go through all this stuff,” Ned moaned. “Wouldn’t we do better to come back with a court order and some policemen?”

“Uh-uh,” Nancy said. “The spy network over here would know in a minute. They’d move the film for sure. No, we just have to start looking.”

But before taking another step, they were halted in their tracks by a low, menacing growl. A giant Doberman pinscher guard dog stood thirty feet away with his snout poised low and his lips drawn back exposing great, slashing teeth. He stared at them, ready to pounce.

Almost simultaneously, Nancy and Ned said the identical words: “Don’t move and don’t breathe.”

“Don’t look him in the eye, either,” Nancy added. “The dog will think you’re challenging him and will attack. ”

“You’re probably right,” Ned said, “but I have a hunch this guy means to jump us no matter what we do. What about those stacks? Do you think we can climb them fast enough to get away?”

“Yes, but then we’d be stuck there until Monday morning.”

“What about your trusty tear-gas book?” Ned asked.

“I have it, but it only works up to about six feet.”

“Well, once he’s that close, he’ll go all the way. Still, give me the book.”

“Oh, no,” Nancy said. “It’s mine. I can handle this as well as you can.”

“Maybe so,” Ned went on, “but I happen to be standing about two feet in front of you and that means he is going to deal with me first. Please give me the book, Nancy. ”

“All right, but—”

“Uh-oh!” Ned broke in, snapping up the book. “Here he comes! ”

With a savage roar, the giant dog flew across the room in three huge bounds. Nancy was just about to leap toward the window as the dog landed, preparing to spring in a final lunge. Ned, however, sprayed his eyes with tear gas at point-blank range, slightly from the side.

The animal yelped, making Nancy wince as she hurried outside. But she knew that the Doberman, whining now and pawing at his eyes, would not suffer any permanent damage. He would regain full sight within a day.

Meanwhile, Ned had climbed through the window, too. He grabbed Nancy’s hand and led her running up the road away from Ciné-Ouest.

After a block, they slowed to a walk. They trudged through the drenching rain for what seemed like hours before finding a cab, and arrived back at the hotel, mud-splattered, soaked to the skin, and exhausted.

“That was wonderful fun.” Ned grinned at Nancy. “And we’ve never looked lovelier. Now, master detective, do you have any more excursions planned for me tonight?”

She was about to say no when nervous thoughts about her nine o’clock meeting with Gutterman began to plague her. Should she tell Ned so that he could shadow her and call in the police if necessary? Or would Ned, in his eagerness to protect her, be discovered? If so, the young detective could lose her only chance to free the children and find the valuable film!

Despite the risk, Nancy decided she had to carry out the mission by herself. She thanked Ned, and with the promise to be up bright and early for breakfast, she parted from him and returned to her room to repair some of the damage to her mud-spattered clothes.

After a hot bath and a hasty manicure, she dressed in a simple navy-blue skirt and white blouse with a powder-blue cardigan.

Gutterman arrived promptly at nine. Burger, of course, was with him, driving a rather battered and old-looking automobile.

“I must apologize for the homely nature of my car, Miss Drew,” Herr Gutterman said, “but it seems that magnificent ones attract strange people who borrow and dump them in unlikely places.”

Nancy felt her jaw tighten, but she refrained from answering.

“But let bygones be bygones, at least for now,” Gutterman said. He smiled thinly. “Would you be so kind as to sit in the back seat with me while Mr. Burger drives? For security reasons, of course.”

Nancy nodded. “Do you want to blindfold me, too?”

Gutterman clapped his hands together in an expression of rapture. “How wonderful to do business with a professional! Of course, we must keep the location of this film a secret.
Ja?
”

“Ja!”
Nancy declared.

Gutterman tied a large, clean white handkerchief around her head. “And now, Miss Drew, I’m sure you are going to try memorizing the sequence of every turn we make. I advise you to save your energy. You’ll only get terribly frustrated.”

Despite the warning, Nancy tried to note all turns and stops, but the constant twisting made the route nearly impossible to follow.

When the car came to a final halt, Gutterman helped her out and escorted her up a flight of twelve very low steps, leading her through a heavy door that squeaked badly on its hinges. Once inside, they turned right down a short hall and right again through a door that Gutterman closed and locked.

He sat Nancy in a chair and removed her blindfold. They were in a dimly lit room with a film projector behind her and a blank white screen in front of her. Without a word of explanation, Gutterman hit the projection switch, turned off the lights and for one hour, Nancy watched the first part of Kurt Kessler’s film,
Captive Witness.

What passed across the screen was a documentary film of life inside Kessler’s homeland. Leading intellectuals, most of them with their backs to the camera, spoke against cruelty and oppression. There were segments showing beatings on the street by police and other unpleasant scenes that created a harrowing image for the oppressed countries of Eastern Europe.

When the reel finished, Gutterman flicked off the switch and turned on the lights. “There is one more piece of film,” he said, “but it’s a waste of my time to keep watching this drivel. Have you seen enough?”

Nancy, who was greatly moved by what she had seen, looked scornfully at the man. “Yes, thank you. Besides, I’ll see the whole thing at the festival.”

Gutterman laughed raucously. “You have a delicious sense of humor, Miss Drew. Also a ridiculous sense of honor that actually led you to believe no harm would befall you tonight.”

Nancy flashed her eyes. “What?”

“Now, don’t get so upset. No harm will come to you tonight, but what astonishes me is that you actually did trust me. Nine times out often you would have been wrong.”

“Can we get to the point?”

“Oh, by all means. Let’s start with my proposition. ”

“Excuse me,” Nancy said. “Let’s start with mine. The fact is that none of your people know where the children are. You’re bluffing.”

A glimmer of annoyance crossed Gutterman’s face. He waggled one thick forefinger at Nancy. “Don’t get cute with me, Miss Drew. We not only know where they are but who kidnapped them from us as well as the precise date and time they will try to escape.

“We will be there to intercept all of them, unless, of course, you are reasonable.” Gutterman rubbed his hands together and walked away a few paces, glancing back at Nancy dramatically. “All we want is the arch traitor, Kurt Kessler! The man who turned on his own country and who now desires to show this treacherous film about his own people! It’s a lie—all of it!”

Nancy flared up. “Kurt Kessler happens to be one of the most respected film directors in the entire world. I’m sure he must be telling the truth, and if he isn’t, then why doesn’t your government refute him with facts and logic instead of punishing helpless children?”

A small smile played around Gutterman’s lips. “Did you say
my
government? Miss Drew, I have no ideology. I am a patriot who pledges allegiance to whoever pays me the most. If, after you give me Kurt Kessler, your country wishes to buy my services, I might even steal him back for you!”

“I don’t think we’d ever sink that low!” Nancy replied scathingly.

Gutterman waved his hand, carelessly dismissing the insult. “You can’t hurt my feelings, Miss Drew. I abandoned them years ago. Now, what have you decided? Will you persuade Kessler to appear at the border crossing and give himself up? As I said, you can have the children and even this silly film, because they will make him renounce it. He will say the Americans made him do it.”

Nancy tried to conceal her revulsion, knowing that the success of her mission relied partly on Gutterman.

“You mean,” she said, her voice trembling with outrage, “that you will torture him until he denies everything he believes in? Haven’t you done enough to him already? You made him spend nine years in labor camps and four years under house arrest, and what about all the other years when his work was confiscated or destroyed?”

“I’ve no time for your nonsense,” Gutterman said, replacing her blindfold. “I want you to contact Kessler. Let him make his own decision. You have until noon tomorrow. ”

In a dazzling series of twists and turns, the young detective was returned to the hotel. She immediately went to a pay phone and called her father, relating Gutterman’s offer. Mr. Drew put her on hold while he contacted Kessler and then came back to Nancy with the answer.

“Of course,” Carson Drew said, his voice crackling with anger, “I knew what Kurt would say. He’s a hero, and heroes automatically do things like this. You tell your contact that Mr. Kessler will fly to Vienna tomorrow. He will do as they request on a guarantee there will be no tricks, Nancy.”

As her father finished speaking, tears flowed down Nancy’s cheeks, and she had a hard time keeping her voice from breaking. “Okay, Dad. No tricks, and tell Mr. Kessler we all love him.”

Nancy went to her room, changed out of her clothes into a nightgown and stared dazedly in a mirror as she brushed her hair. The sorrow over Kessler’s probable fate, however, soon replaced itself with anger.

“Wait a minute,” Nancy murmured out loud. “If only I could retrace the route to the building where
Captive Witness
was stored!”

She knew she couldn’t possibly recall the twisting, winding way but there were other things that came to mind. The sounds, for example. She had heard trains coupling and uncoupling and there had been the shriek of a train whistle. From somewhere, too, had come the music of a merry-go-round. Where in all Vienna would that be? She had less than two days to find out!

For several moments, too, the young detective thought of the ten children in hiding. How much longer would they remain safe from the other side?

After a full night’s sleep, Nancy bounced out of bed filled with energy. She couldn’t be sure of the route Gutterman’s car had taken her, but she had jotted down everything she could remember.

She dialed Ned’s room number and was greeted by his sleepy voice. “Come on, Ned. Get up and get dressed. Meet me right way. We’ve no time to lose. Today is the big day! Breakfast in ten minutes. ”

Half an hour later, Ned, still bleary-eyed, wandered into the hotel restaurant and slid into the seat opposite Nancy. “I can’t believe it.” He yawned. “You look radiant and I look like a sack of wet laundry. How do you do it, Nancy?”

Nancy waved her hand impatiently and grinned. “Now stop flattering me and be serious. Look.” She pushed a map of Vienna toward him. It was crosshatched with lines of purple, green, and red.

“What is this?” Ned mumbled, taking a swig of orange juice.

“It’s the route to the film,” Nancy said.

“Which film? Our film—
Captive Witness?”

“Yes, yes, yes. I saw part of it last night.”

Ned was completely confused. “Last night?”

The girl shook her head. “I saw it with Gutterman. ”

“Gutterman!” Ned exclaimed.

“I wish you’d stop repeating everything I say.” Nancy laughed.

“Well, everything you say is so fascinating I just can’t help myself. ”

“Let me explain,” Nancy said, and told her friend the entire story of her meeting with the man.

“That’s really terrific,” Ned said when she had finished. “I came along to protect you and what do you do? Play right into the hands of that crook.”

“But I had to. Don’t you see? If I had told you, they might have found out and canceled the whole thing. I’m sorry. Forgive me. But please hurry. I need you to rent and drive a car so we can retrace the route Gutterman took me on last night.”

Ned looked at her ruefully for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. Let’s go. ”

Once they had secured a car and were on their way, Nancy spread the map on her lap. “I think it was somewhere around here.”

Ned paused to follow her finger. “You realize, of course, you’re pointing to half of Vienna,” he said.

“I know.” Nancy sighed. “Well, let’s start with the red line, and keep our speed at twenty miles per hour. ”

For more than four hours, they cruised up one street and down another with no success. At last, Nancy folded up the map and put it in the glove compartment.

“I give up,” she said.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Ned replied.

“But it’s hopeless. I didn’t see any building with a flight of twelve very low steps leading up to the front door. ”

“Shall we go back then?”

Nancy nodded grimly.

“Look, it isn’t worth fretting over. You did better today than yesterday. At least, this time we didn’t get chased by a hungry Doberman.”

“Thanks for the consolation,” Nancy said, half-smiling.

They returned to the hotel in time to meet Professor Bagley and their friends who were arriving on the tour bus. The first voice they heard was that of the little bus driver. It was loud and strident, commanding the attention of everyone within a block.

“Strauss! Oh yes, he was so-so. He wrote pretty music—
The Blue Danube and Tales from the Vienna Woods.
But what is that compared to Mozart ?”