The Schirmer Inheritance (25 page)

The Sergeant’s fist hit her full in the mouth and she crashed into the corner of the room where the empty bottles stood.

George leaped to his feet. As he did so the barrel of Arthur’s gun jabbed painfully into his side.

“Stand still, chum, or you’ll get hurt,” Arthur said. “She’s been asking for this and now she’s going to get it.”

Miss Kolin was on her knees, the blood trickling from her cut lip. They all stood watching her as she climbed slowly to her feet. Suddenly she picked up a bottle and flung it at the Sergeant. He did not move. It missed him by a few inches and
smashed against the opposite wall. He stepped forward and hit her hard across the face with the back of his hand. She went down again. She had made no sound. She still made no sound. After a moment she began to get to her feet again.

“I’m stopping this,” said George angrily, and started to move.

The gun dug into his side. “You try, chum, and you’ll get a bullet in the kidneys. It’s nothing to do with you, so shut up!”

Miss Kolin picked up another bottle. There was blood running from her nose now. She faced the Sergeant again.

“Du Schuft!”
she said venomously, and hurled herself at him.

He brushed the bottle aside and hit her again in the face with his fist. When she fell this time she did not try to get up, but lay there gasping.

The Sergeant went to the door and opened it. The sentry who had summoned Arthur was waiting there. The Sergeant beckoned him in, pointed to Miss Kolin, and gave an order in Greek. The sentry grinned and slung his rifle across his back. Then he went over to Miss Kolin and hauled her to her feet. She stood there swaying and wiping the blood from her face with her hand. He gripped her arm and said something to her. Without a word, and without looking at any of them, she began to walk towards the door.

“Miss Kolin—” George started forward.

She took no notice. The sentry pushed him aside and followed her out of the room. The door closed.

Sickened and trembling, George turned to face the Sergeant.

“Easy, chum,” said Arthur. “None of the hero-to-the-rescue stuff. It won’t wash here.”

“Where’s she being taken?” George demanded.

The Sergeant was licking the blood off one of his knuckles.
He glanced at George and then, sitting down at the table, took the passport from Miss Kolin’s satchel.

“Maria Kolin,” he remarked. “French.”

“I asked where she’s being taken.”

Arthur was standing behind him still. “I wouldn’t try getting tough, Mr. Carey,” he advised. “Don’t forget, you brought her here.”

The Sergeant was examining the passport. “Born in Belgrade,” he said. “Slav.” He shut the passport with a snap. “And now we will talk a little.”

George waited. The Sergeant’s eyes rested on his.

“How did you find out, Mr. Carey?”

George hesitated.

“Talk fast, chum.”

“The truck the Corporal brought us up in—it had slots for false number-plates and the plates were lying inside on the floor of the truck. They were the same numbers as those mentioned in the Salonika papers.”

Arthur swore.

The Sergeant nodded curtly. “So! You knew this last night?”

“Yes.”

“But
you
did not go to the police today?”

“What I did was to cable in code to my office to find out what the extradition treaty between America and Greece says about armed bank robbery.”

“Please?”

Arthur explained in Greek.

The Sergeant nodded. “That was good. Did she know you do this?”

“Yes.”

“Then why does she tell Chrysantos?”

“She doesn’t like Germans.”

“Ah, so?”

George looked down pointedly at the Sergeant’s hands. “I understand her feelings.”

“Easy, chum.”

The Sergeant smiled enigmatically. “You understand her feelings? I do not think so.”

The sentry came in, gave the Sergeant a key with a word of explanation, and went out again.

The Sergeant put the key in his pocket and poured himself a glass of plum brandy. “And now,” he said, “we must think what is to be done. Your little friend is safely in a room upstairs. I think we must ask you also to stay, Mr. Carey. It is not that I do not trust you but that, at the moment, because you do not understand, you are feeling that you would like to destroy the Corporal and me. In two days, perhaps, when the Corporal and I have finished arranging our business, you may go.”

“Do you intend to keep me here by force?”

“Only if you are not wise and do not wish to stay.”

“Aren’t you forgetting why I came here?”

“No. I will give you my decision in two days, Mr. Carey. Until then, you stay.”

“Supposing I told you that unless Miss Kolin and I are released immediately you’ll have as much chance of inheriting that estate as that sentry outside.”

“Your office in America will be very sad. Arthur explained to me.”

George felt himself reddening. “Does it occur to you that, trail or no trail, Colonel Chrysantos won’t take very long to find this place now? In two or three hours he may have you surrounded by Greek troops.”

Arthur laughed. The Sergeant smiled grimly.

“If that is so, Mr. Carey, Chrysantos will be in trouble with his government. But you need not worry. If this bad Colonel comes, we will protect you. A glass of wine? No? Brandy?
No? Then, since you are tired, the Corporal will show you where you can sleep. Good night.” He nodded dismissal and began to go through the photostats again, putting those that interested him specially into a separate pile.

“This way, chum.”

“Just a moment. What about Miss Kolin, Sergeant?”

The Sergeant did not look up. “You do not have to worry about her, Mr. Carey. Good night.”

Arthur led the way; George followed him; the sentry brought up the rear. They went upstairs to a derelict room with a straw mattress on the floorboards. There was also a bucket. The sentry brought in an oil lamp.

“It’s only for a couple of nights, Mr. Carey,” said Arthur—the hotel receptionist apologizing to a valued client who has arrived unexpectedly. “You’ll find the palliasse fairly clean. The Sarge is very keen on hygiene.”

“Where’s Miss Kolin?”

“Next room.” He jerked his thumb. “But don’t you worry about her. It’s a better room than this.”

“What did the Sergeant mean about Chrysantos getting into trouble with the government?”

“If he tried to surround us? Well, the Greek frontier’s nearly a kilometre away. We’re on Yugoslav territory. I’d have thought you’d have guessed.”

George digested this disconcerting news while Arthur adjusted the lamp wick.

“What about the frontier patrols?”

Arthur hung the lamp on a hook jutting out from the wall. “You want to know too much, chum.” He went to the door. “No lock on this door, but, just in case you’re thinking of sleepwalking, there’s a wide-awake sentry here on the landing, and he’s trigger-happy. Get the idea?”

“I get it.”

“I’ll give you a call when it’s time for breakfast. Pleasant dreams.”

About an hour had gone by when George heard the Sergeant come upstairs and say something to the sentry.

The sentry replied briefly. A moment or two later George heard the sound of a key being inserted in the door of the next room—the room Arthur had said was Miss Kolin’s.

With some idea of protecting her, George got up quickly from the mattress on which he had been lying and went to the door. He did not open it immediately. He heard Miss Kolin’s voice and the Sergeant’s. There was a pause, then the sound of the door being shut. The key turned in the lock once more.

For a while, he thought the Sergeant had gone, and went back to the corner where his mattress was. Then he heard the Sergeant’s voice again, and hers. They were talking in German. He went to the wall and listened. The tone of their voices was curiously conversational. He was aware of a strange uneasiness and his heart began to beat too fast.

The voices had ceased now, but soon they began once more, and softly, as if the speakers did not wish to be overheard. Then there was silence for a long time. He lay down again on the mattress. Minutes went by; then, in the silence, he heard her utter a fierce, shuddering cry of passion.

He did not move. After a while there were low voices again. Then nothing. He became aware for the first time of the sound of the cicadas in the night outside. He was at last beginning to understand Miss Kolin.

G
eorge was kept for two days and three nights at the Sergeant’s headquarters.

On the first day, the Sergeant left the house soon after dawn, and returned when it was dark. George spent the day in the room downstairs, and had his meals there with Arthur. He did not see either the Sergeant or Miss Kolin. After that first night, she was moved to another room in an annex to the house and food was taken to her by one of the sentries. When George asked if he could see her, Arthur shook his head.

“Sorry, chum. No can do.”

“What’s happened to her?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

“I want to see her.”

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t mind whether you see her or not. It’s just that
she
doesn’t want to see
you
.”

“Why not?”

“The Sarge is the only one she wants to see.”

“Is she all right?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” He grinned. “Cut lip, of course, and a bruise or two, but radiant as a bride. You wouldn’t know her.”

“How much longer is this going on?”

“Search me. I’d say it had only just started.”

“After what happened, it doesn’t make sense.”

Arthur looked at him with some amusement. “I expect you’ve been nicely brought up. I told you she’d been asking for it, didn’t I? Well, she got it, and very nice too. I’ve never seen the Sarge take such a fancy to a girl before.”

“A fancy!” George was getting angry.

“I wouldn’t mind betting she was a virgin,” Arthur mused; “or as good as.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

“What’s the matter, chum? Sour grapes?”

“I don’t think there’s much point in discussing it. Did Colonel Chrysantos turn up?”

“The sheriff’s posse, you mean? Sure. They’re sitting on their backsides, like twerps, just on the other side of the frontier. Waiting for something to happen.”

“Or maybe waiting for Miss Kolin and me to turn up. Supposing the American Legation’s brought into this and they start complaining to Belgrade. Going to be a bit awkward for you, isn’t it?”

“You’ll be back before they finish even
talking
about doing anything. And when you do get back, you’ll begin to think again about all the fuss your office is going to make over the Sarge, and say it was all a mistake.”

“Got it all worked out, haven’t you? I don’t see what you had to get so upset about.”

“No? For one thing they’ve arrested that poor old sod who drove you. That’s not so funny, is it?”

“How do you know?”

“We had word from Florina this morning.”

“How?”

“Ask no questions, you’ll be told no lies. I’ll tell you this, though. The
comitadjis
have been using these hills for fifty years or more. There’s not much you can’t get away with in these parts if you know the ropes. Don’t forget that they’re
Macedonians on both sides of the frontier. When it comes to small-scale work like this, the Chrysantos boys haven’t got an earthly.”

“What’ll happen to the driver?”

“That depends. He’s an old
comitadji
, so he won’t say where he got his orders from, no matter what they do to him. But it’s awkward. He isn’t the only one in Florina. There’s old Ma Vassiotis, for instance. They might have a go at her. You know, if the Sarge hadn’t changed things round a bit, I’d be inclined to go up and give your Miss What’s-her-name another bashing myself.”

“Supposing I were to tell Chrysantos that I hired the car and told the old man where to go.”

“He might believe you. But how did
you
know where to go?”

“I’d say you told me.”

Arthur laughed. “Proper lawyer, aren’t you?”

“Would it matter to you?”

“Not a tuppenny damn.”

“O.K., then.”

Arthur was cleaning a pistol. George watched him for a while in silence. At last he said: “Supposing there had been no question of the Sergeant’s going to America. Would you have gone on with this racket of yours?”

Arthur looked up, then shook his head. “No. I reckon we’ve just about had it now.”

“Having pulled off the big job?”

“Maybe. Time to move on anyway.” He bent over the pistol again.

“Got plenty of dough put away?” George said after a moment or two.

Arthur looked up, startled. “I’ve never met anyone with such terrible manners,” he said. “Come off it, Arthur.”

But Arthur was genuinely shocked. “How would you like it if I was to ask you how much money you had in the bank?” he said indignantly.

“All right. Tell me something else, then. How did it start? The Sergeant kept very quiet about that. What happened in the end to that Markos brigade you both commanded?”

Arthur shook his head sadly. “Always asking questions. I suppose it’s being a lawyer.”

“I have an inquiring mind.”

“Just plain nosy-parkering, my mother would have called it.”

“You forget that, at present, I’m the Sergeant’s legal adviser. Between a man and his legal adviser there should be no secrets.”

Arthur uttered an obscene four-letter word and went back to his cleaning.

But the following evening he came back to the subject of his own accord. George had still seen nothing of either the Sergeant or Miss Kolin and a suspicion had been forming in his mind. He began to ask questions again.

“What time’s the Sergeant coming back today?”

“Don’t know, chum. When we see him, I expect.” Arthur was reading a Belgrade newspaper that had arrived mysteriously during the day. Now he threw it down in disgust. “Lot of nonsense in that paper,” he said. “Ever read
The News of the World
? London paper that is.”

“No, I’ve never seen it. Is the Sergeant in Greece or Albania today?”

“Albania?” Arthur laughed, but, as George opened his mouth to ask another question, he went on. “You were asking what happened to us when we packed up fighting. We were up near the Albanian frontier then.”