Winter's Bullet (7 page)

Tygo stayed to watch a bit longer, then conscious of the time, pressed on and arrived back at Headquarters before eight.

‘Good morning,' he said to the tired-looking guard who was checking his papers.

‘What's so good about it?' the guard replied, handing him back the document and warrant disc.

‘I don't know,' said Tygo. But he did feel different – was it meeting Willa, or something else? He wasn't sure.

He sat on his usual hard chair outside Krüger's office in the corridor. The light was on inside and he could hear Krüger talking on the telephone. It was very early for him to be at work, Tygo thought. His stomach was rumbling
badly, but it would be better to wait until Krüger had seen him than to slip off to the canteen now. He would have to find a way of smuggling some food out for Willa too, he reminded himself. He liked the feeling of thinking about someone else again.

The office door opened and Krüger strode out, buttoning his leather overcoat. He seemed preoccupied, distracted, barely glancing at Tygo.

‘Come along, Frettchen.' Curt, cold.

Tygo fell into step beside Krüger. A short car ride later, and they were outside 321 Keizersgracht, an elegant classic-looking Amsterdam town house with a heavy wooden front door and a large brass knocker in the shape of a lion. Krüger's black-gloved hand struck the knocker twice. After a moment, the door opened and a middle-aged woman stood before them.

‘Frau van Meegeren?'

‘Yes,' she said faintly, her face almost grey from fright at the vision of Krüger in his black uniform. She was blinking uncontrollably.

‘Oberst Krüger, Geheime Staatspolizei. I would very much like to speak to your husband; is he here?' Krüger knew he was: the house had been under observation since the early hours.

The woman nodded and stepped back awkwardly. Krüger clicked his heels politely and stepped inside.

‘Upstairs, in the salon,' the woman said, waving weakly towards the staircase.

‘Thank you, Frau van Meegeren.'

Tygo followed Krüger up the gilded staircase. The walls
were hung with Old Masters, and on the landing polished sculptures and vases rested on side tables. It was as if the war wasn't happening here. Certainly the place was cold, but there was an incredible smell too. Tygo tried to place it . . . bacon? Yes, the place smelled of bacon and coffee, or was it tobacco? It smelt wonderful, at any rate.

Krüger marched straight into the large first-floor salon. It too was richly furnished, with leather and velvet-covered furniture, and thick Persian carpets on the polished elm floors. A middle-aged man was kneeling down in front of the fireplace, a poker in his hand. He turned at the sound of their entrance. His eyes registered surprise, but not fear. Tygo immediately recognized him as the man who had visited Krüger's office the day before.

‘Well . . . good morning, Oberst, please come in.' Van Meegeren stood and reached for his pipe on the mantelpiece. ‘I have some fresh coffee if you would like?'

‘Perhaps later. First we talk; time is very much of the essence.'

Van Meegeren nodded. ‘I understand then that yesterday's search was unsuccessful?'

‘You understand correctly.'

Van Meegeren sat down in a large comfortable-looking chair. ‘I'm sorry,' he said, but he didn't sound it.

Krüger sat opposite him.

‘Would you care for some food?' Van Meegeren indicated a tray on a side table, which held a coffee pot and some delicious-looking biscuits.

‘No, I would not! This is not some tea party. I want answers, van Meegeren, or I will take you outside and
shoot you in the street.'

Tygo edged towards the table where the food was. He could see Krüger was deadly serious, and was glad he wasn't the focus of his anger. Van Meegeren appeared to wilt from this threat, his face flushing and his air of calm deserting him.

‘Of course. Did you find the safe?'

‘Empty.'

‘Then it must still be with Löwenstein's mistress.'

‘I have checked with our records department, with the local police. Everyone. There is no evidence this woman exists – no identity papers, nothing on the file.'

‘No evidence of her at the house?'

Krüger shook his head.

Tygo was by the table now. He glanced at the two men, but neither gave him a second look. Quickly he turned his back, folded up the linen napkin the biscuits were sitting on and popped it into his coat pocket.

‘Wait a minute,' van Meegeren suddenly exclaimed. ‘She had a daughter, a young girl.'

At that Tygo spun round, and he knew van Meegeren had caught both the biscuit theft and the look of surprise on his face. Tygo cursed himself inwardly.

‘She was about nine or ten at the start of the war. Pretty girl, what was her name . . .? Began with a W, I think.'

Krüger was nodding. ‘We will check.'

Tygo could see that the art dealer was watching him carefully. He felt his cheeks colouring. Van Meegeren began to smile, and not in a good way.

‘Yes, check – the mother might have given her
daughter the stone. Perhaps this young man can help you.'

Krüger shot a look at Tygo.

‘What do you mean?' Tygo protested.

‘You know something.' Van Meegeren's tone was mild, but Tygo felt his stomach turn over.

‘I do not!' Tygo said firmly. ‘I don't know anything.'

Van Meegeren shrugged. ‘I must be mistaken.' He looked back at Krüger. ‘I will make some enquiries immediately, Oberst.'

‘Be sure that you do.'

Krüger got to his feet, and Tygo followed him out of the room. He glanced back at the doorway; van Meegeren was still sitting in his chair. He tapped his index finger against his nose and Tygo hurried out, deeply uneasy.

Tygo tried to avoid Krüger's glances on the way back to HQ. Thankfully, once there, the Oberst became focused on the imminent arrival of General Müller.

When Müller did arrive just after midday, Tygo was amazed to see he was unaccompanied by any other officers. He was carrying a black attaché case, and Tygo thought he exuded a menacing sort of power, like the evil witches in fairy stories who made flowers shrivel and die as they passed.

Krüger hurried out of his office and saluted him. ‘An honour, General.'

Müller returned the salute and Krüger followed him inside. He flicked his hand at Tygo, indicating for him to get lost, then closed the door.

Tygo sat on his chair for a moment. The head of the
Gestapo was sitting not five metres from him. Something out of the ordinary was happening, that was for sure. Tygo got to his feet; he didn't want to hang around, and Krüger would be busy with Müller for a while, so perhaps now would be an ideal time to go back to Willa. He had biscuits after all.

He started down the corridor, then stopped. He knew he was taking a risk but he wanted very badly to know what on earth was going on. He tiptoed back to the door, gingerly putting his ear to the door jamb. Müller was in mid-sentence.

‘. . . Herr Oberst, I am at a loss as to your failure; you have had six months to carry out the task I sent you here for. Where is this stone? Thousands of man-hours have been put into it to make sure every aspect of this operation is successful. It has more moving parts than the finest Swiss watch, and each one must work perfectly and precisely. One of those little pieces, one tiny cog . . .Yet all you have done, no doubt, is squirrel away some nuts for the winter for yourself!'

‘Herr General, I can assure you I have been searching for the stone night and day, without let-up, in fact only yesterday I was positive—'

‘The Red Queen is more than just a diamond. It is essential to the success of this mission. The Führer has given his word to the señorita.'

‘On the Führer's life, I will find the stone.'

So that was what Krüger had been looking for all these months: a single stone. Tygo had been right.

‘It must be in my hand in two days – by the
geheime Flug
on 14 January – or we won't be speaking of the Führer's life but of yours, Oberst Krüger.'

‘I understand, Herr General.' Tygo thought he could detect a note of fear in Krüger's voice. It was not something he'd ever heard before.

‘Very well, I will move on to the other elements of the operation. First, the contents of this briefcase . . .'

Tygo took this as his cue to hurry away down the corridor.
Geheime Flug
meant ‘secret flight'. And what was the promise made by the Führer? Something huge was going on, but what did it all mean? Tygo promised himself he would find out.

CHAPTER 10

T
ravel in daylight hours was relatively safe for Tygo, and after passing through a couple of checkpoints he made it back to the villa in good time. He unlocked the front door again, using his picks, and stepped inside.

‘Willa?' he called out confidently. ‘It's me, Tygo. I've come back, like I said.'

He waited in the hallway for her to respond. Nothing.

‘Willa?' Tygo was suddenly worried that maybe she was gone. That maybe he would never see her again. For some reason that mattered to him.

‘I've brought food for you . . .'

There was a creak of a board from behind, and Tygo
spun round. Willa was standing a couple of metres from him, still armed with the stair spindle.

‘Show me.'

Tygo reached into his pocket and brought out the folded napkin. He opened it in the palm of his hand. ‘They're fresh-baked.'

Willa stepped closer and looked at the biscuits. ‘They're oatmeal?' she said, amazed. ‘Actual oatmeal?'

‘Go on, have one – have them all.'

Willa picked one up, sniffed it, then took a small bite. She chewed for a moment, then smiled at Tygo before stuffing the rest of the biscuit into her mouth. Tygo grinned. He felt like he used to at Christmas when he handed his sister her gift.

‘Sit down and enjoy them.'

Tygo went to sit at the foot of the stairs and Willa joined him. He handed her the napkin and she started on her second biscuit. She was clearly starving. Tygo watched her eat a second and then a third.

‘Well, have you thought about it?'

‘About what?' Willa started on the last biscuit.

‘That you help me find the jewel Krüger needs. I've found out something: it's a diamond called the Red Queen.'

Willa shrugged. ‘I don't know anything about that.'

Tygo stared at her. Was she telling the truth? He shrugged off his disappointment.

‘Still,' he said at last, ‘you might be able to help, and anyway, I don't think you should stay here. Krüger knows you exist.'

‘How?' Willa looked alarmed now. ‘You told him,
didn't you? You snitched on me!' Her alarm was turning to anger.

‘No, I swear, I would never do that. He went to see a man who told him about you and your mother.'

Willa leapt to her feet. ‘I wish I'd never met you.'

‘I can hide you, it's all right.'

‘How? How will we get across the city? I have no papers.'

Tygo grabbed hold of her arm, but she shook him off.

‘I have my warrant disc and letter of authority,' he said. ‘I can tell the checkpoints I'm taking you in on Krüger's authority.'

‘And that's exactly what you'll do. Isn't it? Take me in, get him to interrogate me?'

‘No, it isn't. You have to trust me.'

‘Give me one good reason!'

Her blue eyes searched his. One good reason. He didn't have one, he realized. But he was . . . just sick and tired of being alone, and they could help each other, he was sure of it.

‘Well, well, isn't this interesting?' A man's voice cut through the silence between them.

Van Meegeren was standing in the doorway, dressed in a thick woollen overcoat and a mink hat. He casually raised the black revolver in his gloved hand.

‘Before you get any silly ideas about running away or some such.'

‘Who is this?' Willa asked Tygo, her eyes widening with fear.

‘Don't you remember me, Wilhelmina?'

Willa shook her head.

‘An old friend of your mother's from before the war. I remember Viktor Löwenstein giving her the Red Queen when you were born. He said it was the second most beauti ful thing in the world. Such a charming man, so rich.'

Willa stared at van Meegeren, then glared at Tygo. ‘You brought him here!' she spat.

Now it was Tygo's turn to shake his head vehemently.

‘No, let's be fair, that's not exactly true.' Van Meegeren advanced into the hallway. ‘I'm afraid your friend here is a very bad liar. When your name came up in conversation today I got the distinct impression that Frettchen here had had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.'

‘I'm sorry,' Tygo said to Willa, remembering how he had reacted at van Meegeren's house.

‘Shut up,' Willa replied.