Codeword Golden Fleece (11 page)

Without a second’s hesitation Jan walked straight up to the Baron. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve chosen an awkward moment, Uncle,’
he said firmly; ‘but for the honour of our family the matter permits of no delay. Are you aware that—er—General Mack has so far forgotten himself as to tell your English guests that they may not leave without his permission?’

The poor, slow-witted Baron began uncomfortably: ‘My dear boy, I was most upset. I—er—well, I protested myself, but—er—reasons of State …’ he broke off miserably with an appealing look towards his wife.

A sudden hush had fallen on the whole assembly. The Baroness stepped forward, and her voice, which she strove to keep calm and pleasant, came clearly to every listening ear.

‘My dear Jan, control yourself, please. There is nothing to get excited about. General Mack simply asked the Duke and his friends not to leave until the conference was over.’

‘It was not a request but an order,’ Jan stormed. ‘As a member of the family. I demand that he should apologise at once.’

Mack had paled slightly at this unwelcome scene. His natural instinct was to pacify the outraged dignity of his troublesome countryman, but he dared not display such weakness before the Germans. His dark eyes glistening, he snapped:

‘You forget yourself! You must be quite well aware who I am. How dare you question the wisdom of my decisions?’

‘I know who you are, and I don’t give a damn!’ retorted Jan. ‘As a Polish nobleman, I refuse to stand by and see Polish hospitality shamed before our English allies.’

The room was now so silent that as the lame Major Bauer clumped forward, his game leg dragging slightly, each footfall of his heavy boots rang hollowly upon the polished parquet. Advancing to within a foot of Jan, he said with studied insolence:

‘Your—English allies!’ and spat contemptuously on the floor.

The blood drained from Jan’s cheeks. He would have hit the German but for the fact that he, too, was Poland’s guest. With an effort he turned to the Baron and cried:

‘Uncle! How can you permit this? For God’s sake tell His Excellency, the Minister, and his German friends to go and cheapen themselves elsewhere.’

Before the Baron had a chance to reply, Major Bauer, his coarse face lit up with fanatical excitement, spoke again:

‘
Dumbkopff!
You question the right of your superior to give orders as a Polish Cabinet Minister, eh? All right! Let me tell you! He is something a thousand times greater than that now. He has today been appointed
Grossgauleiter
of Poland.’

Jan’s eyes seemed to start from his head. He raised a hand as though to ward off a blow, and gasped: ‘I don’t believe it! No Pole would ever surrender Poland’s independence without a fight.’

In that tense moment General Mack caught the expressions on the faces of his staff. That of the elderly, very senior officer to whom they always referred as ‘Colonel’ was calm, but with a faintly cynical twist of the lips. The rest showed either amazement or anger. Mack saw that, if he were to retain his authority, he must take a bold line, and, banging his fist on a nearby table, he cried:

‘Listen! I have entered into certain undertakings for the sake of humanity. War is unavoidable. We all know that. I have simply arranged that, so far as Poland is concerned, the war shall be short.’

‘By God! You’ve betrayed us then!’ Jan almost screamed ‘You’ve sold us to the Nazis before we’ve had a chance to fire a shot! You filthy traitor! I’ll kill you for this, if it’s the last thing I ever do!’

‘Not sold you, but saved you!’ Bauer shouted. ‘Don’t you understand? Your forces will put up a token resistance only, and your casualties will be few. Then, immediately they lay down their arms our glorious
Fuehrer
has consented to do Poland the honour of permitting her to become a Protectorate of the Reich.’

His eyes gleaming with frenzied ardour, the Nazi Major ended his pronouncement by shooting up his right arm to its fullest extent, bawling: ‘
Heil Hitler!
’

Losing all control, Jan hit him a resounding slap across the face.

Marie Lou was standing between Richard and the Duke, right opposite the broad staircase and near the main doorway of the lounge, which led out into the front hall. As, wide-eyed with apprehension, she surveyed the scene, she realised that every face now portrayed fear, anger, or excitement, except for two—those of de Richleau and von Geisenheim. Their faces remained grey masks, betraying nothing.

She saw Bauer, his cheek still white with the imprint of the blow and his features distorted with rage, wrench an automatic from his pocket.

She saw that von Geisenheim had already produced a pistol and was holding it levelled as steady as a rock; but she could not
tell from where she stood if it were aimed at Jan or at Bauer’s back.

She saw Jan grasp the butt of the heavy-calibre service weapon at his belt and tug it out.

At the same moment, out of the corner of her eye, she saw de Richleau’s right hand suddenly flick up the double row of electric light switches at his elbow, which controlled the lighting of the room.

The Duke beat the guns by the fraction of a second. The room was plunged in darkness the flicker of an eyelid before the shooting started.

Richard flung himself in front of Marie Lou; the Duke grabbed her arm and pulled her back through the doorway.

Two shots rang out almost simultaneously. The flashes from the guns stabbed the darkness, each for an instant revealing the scene in the long room by a startling contrast of highlights and shadows.

Mack was disclosed half-crouching behind the heavy refectory table. Bauer was standing squarely, his chin and the hand which held the gun thrust aggressively forward. Jan had side-stepped and seemed to have collided with Anna Lubieszow, who had evidently run towards him. De Richleau glimpsed her face. It was that of a mother who sees her only child in danger, and he remembered then that this poor relation of the Lubieszows was Jan’s spinster aunt.

Neither shot had, apparently, taken effect; but other weapons were about to be brought into play. Mack’s staff were closing round him, evidently determined to protect their Chief from Jan’s threatened attack, and several of them had produced pistols.

Bauer fired again. Anna Lubieszow screamed. De Richleau shouted: ‘Run for it, Jan! Run for it or they’ll kill you!’ Then came a burst of shots.

Marie Lou, even hemmed in as she was between Richard and the Duke and pressed back in the doorway, could glimpse enough by the light of the recurrent flashes to see Bauer fling up an arm before he crashed headlong to the floor, and Jan leap over his body in a dash towards the French windows; but she did not see Anna, after a few faltering steps, collapse limply in a nearby chair.

“Stop him!’ yelled Mack, and two of his officers sprang forward in pursuit of Jan. Richard knocked over a chair, which slithered across the parquet, catching the nearest officer sideways as he ran. Darkness blacked out his fall, but they heard the sharp snap of one of the chair-legs and the heavy bump of his body.

A gun flashed again, this time from the window. It was Jan’s parting shot, fired almost at random towards Mack in a last attempt to carry out his threat to kill the traitor statesman. By its light they saw that the officer who had tripped over the chair had cannoned into his companion as he fell, and that they were sprawled in a cursing heap together.

By the same flash de Richleau and his friends saw something else. Right opposite them, halfway up the broad staircase at the far end of the lounge, two men were now standing; both had guns in their hands, and from their point of vantage they dominated the whole room.

Marie Lou’s heart missed a beat: Richard stifled a cry of surprise; the Duke’s satanic eyebrows shot up in amazement. An instant later, as darkness blotted out the scene again, all three of them momentarily rejected the evidence of their sense, believing that their eyesight had played them a trick. It seemed unbelievable that those two familiar figures, the big man, who gripped his gun so confidently, and the little one, whose obvious distaste for his made him hold it with such awkwardness, could have arrived unsummoned in Poland and found their way undiscovered to the upper floor of the Lubieszow château.

‘Did—did you see what I did?’ gasped Richard in de Richleau’s ear.

‘
Mon Dieu
, yes!’ breathed the Duke, flashing on the lights, which revealed to the whole startled company the silent, watchful figures of Rex van Ryn and Simon Aron.

‘That’ll be enough shooting for the present,’ Rex boomed,
giving his big automatic a swift, threatening sweep from side to side across the crowd of astonished, upturned faces below him. ‘Drop your guns on the floor, all of you. Quick now! I’m in a mood to take a little target practice on any character who disobeys me.’

Although he spoke in English his tone and gesture were quite enough to convey his meaning to those who did not understand his actual words. Von Geisenheim, as shrewd a judge as anyone there of when a situation warranted taking chances, quietly laid his pistol on a nearby table. But the sullen-faced Pole that de Richleau had partnered at bridge half-turned and made to raise his weapon.

Instantly Rex’s automatic cracked, the Pole’s pistol clattered to the floor, and with a gasp of pain he clutched a shattered wrist.

‘I warned you,’ said Rex, this time speaking in French. ‘Put your guns on the floor, or next time I’ll shoot to kill.’

With scowling looks but making no further protest, the antagonists hastened to obey him, as he added: ‘Go to it, Simon. Collect the arsenal.’

De Richleau stepped forward. ‘One moment, Rex. Stay where you are, Simon, and keep the terrace door covered, in case any of them tries to get away. I’ll attend to their disarmament.’ Even as he spoke he had relieved ‘Colonel Moninszko’ of his automatic and passed it to Richard with the words: ‘Stay by the door and see that we’re not interrupted from the hall.’

Quietly but swiftly he collected all the weapons and, keeping one for himself, deposited the rest on a small table just outside on the terrace. Stepping back into the room, he addressed the two newcomers with a smile.

‘I need hardly say how delighted I am to see you both. Your arrival could not possibly have been more opportune, and I can scarely wait to hear how you accomplished it. Now that you, Rex, with Richard’s help, can easily control the situation, perhaps Simon can come down and help me round up the remainder of the servants.’ Turning towards Marie Lou, he added: ‘It’s not the first time that you’ve handled a gun, Princess, so perhaps you would give us your assistance by guarding these windows on to the terrace while Simon and I are away.’

As Simon and Marie Lou crossed the room, Mack suddenly stepped forward and spoke with swift acidity. ‘It seems, Duke, that you are in control here now. Need I remind you that several
people have been wounded? Surely you will allow us to give them immediate attention?’

These swift interchanges had occupied barely two minutes, and, although it seemed much longer, it was less than five since the shooting had started. De Richleau’s quick ear had caught the sound of cautiously approaching feet. He guessed that some of the chauffeurs must have been wakened by the shots and that the bolder of them were coming to see what had happened. As most of them were soldiers, they might be carrying arms, so, if this unexpected
coup
were not to fail through a turning of the tables, swift action was necessary.

He gave a quick glance round the casualties of the recent fracas. Anna Lubieszow lay still, slumped in the chair where she had fallen. The Duke had seen too many dead bodies in his time to be mistaken as to the meaning of her lolling head and loosely huddled limbs. Bauer had been knocked out by a bullet that had seared his bristling scalp, but he was now groaning loudly and evidently about to come to. The Pole whose wrist Rex had shattered was cursing under his breath and sweating with pain, while one of his companions was already staunching the flow of blood from the wound with a napkin from the silver salver upon which stood the bottles of champagne.

‘I fear that Madame Anna is past our aid,’ de Richleau replied sharply, ‘and the other two will come to no harm through waiting. Stay where you are, everyone. Come on, Simon.’

As Marie Lou snatched up the smallest pistol from the collection on the little table, the Duke and Simon hurried away in the direction of the now clearly audible footsteps.

The chauffeurs proved easier to deal with than they had anticipated. There were only three men in the little party that came on at the end of the terrace, and none of them was carrying a gun. De Richleau spoke to them in Polish and promptly marched them back whence they had come.

At the stable gates they found seven still less courageous spirits who had also been roused at the sound of the shots, but remained there, half-dressed, conjecturing in anxious whispers on the possible cause of the shooting. Under the threat of the guns the whole party was herded back to the house, taken down to an inner cellar and locked in there.

‘Stay here, Simon,’ said the Duke, ‘and put a bullet through the door if they attempt to break out; I am going in search of some female companionship for them.’

A quarter of an hour later he returned, shepherding a dozen scared women servants in front of him, including the old cook whom he had terrified into collecting all the others, under pain of the direst penalties if he learned later that she had overlooked even the humblest scullery-maid.

The women were locked in with the chauffeurs and grooms; then their captors rolled a great cider barrel, of which there were a number in the outer cellar, against the door, and, having wedged it there, went upstairs again.

‘I think that’s the lot,’ murmured the Duke. ‘All the indoor men servants appear to have been rounded up by the Baron just as they were about to go to bed, to serve the champagne; so they are still with the rest of the party in the lounge.’

As they hurried back to the terrace, he went on:

‘The next thing is for us to let you and Rex know what has been going on here and to hold a council of war. That won’t be any too easy, as two of our party will have to keep the prisoners covered all the time, but I think I know how to arrange matters.’