1969 - The Whiff of Money Page 12

  Rosnold got in the car and started the engine. 'I could get tired of you if you can't keep away from other men.' Gilly made a face at him. 'Would that be such a disaster?'

  Rosnold scowled at her, then drove out into the main street and headed after Girland.

  * * *

  Count Hans von Goltz sat in a high-backed leather chair, facing Lu Silk who sat on a leather-covered settee. The two men were in the baronial hall of the Obermitten Schloss: a vast room with wooden beams supporting the arched ceiling.

  The big picture window looked out onto the magnificent park with its close-cut lawns and gnarled trees. Beyond the set garden was the forest.

  Count Hans von Goltz was Herman Radnitz's nephew.

  Had it not been for Radnitz, von Goltz would now be serving a life sentence for murder and rape. When he was sixteen years of age and living with his parents on their estate near the Saxon Forest, east of Hamburg, he had come across an Austrian girl student on a hiking vacation. She had strayed onto the von Goltz land and she had asked him the way to the main highway to Hamburg. They were completely alone together, and von Goltz had made advances which were repulsed. Von Goltz was used to having his way. There was a struggle, and after the brutal rape, he had strangled the girl. Leaving her body half-concealed in the bracken he had returned home. He told his father what he had done. One of the gamekeepers who hated von Goltz had heard the girl's screams. He had arrived on the scene a few minutes after von Goltz had left. He had found von Goltz's watch by the body. It had been torn from von Goltz's wrist in the struggle.

  It so happened that Herman Radnitz was staying at the Schloss, spending a few days with his sister, von Goltz's mother.

  Von Goltz's father, horrified at what his son had told him, went to Radnitz. Radnitz advised that they should do nothing.

  The girl's body would be discovered sooner or late. Both he and the parents would say von Goltz had been with them all during the afternoon.

  But they were reckoning without the gamekeeper who raised the alarm. The police arrived and the gamekeeper gave them von Goltz's watch. Although the parents and Radnitz confirmed the boy hadn't left the Schloss during the afternoon, he was arrested. His hands were badly scratched. White and trembling he had told the police he had been teasing one of the farm cats, but this explanation was not accepted.

  Radnitz then talked to the gamekeeper. For an agreed sum of money, the gamekeeper told the police that he disliked young von Goltz and had fabricated the story about finding the watch by the girl's body. In fact, he had found the watch in another part of the estate and had intended to keep it. Radnitz then talked to the Chief of Police who had political ambitions. It was easy for Radnitz to arrange something advantageous and in return the Chief of Police dropped the murder charges. It had been a narrow escape and young von Goltz was grateful. A year later the von Goltz estate was wiped out by bombing and von Goltz's parents killed. He had served in the German army and when he was released Radnitz sent for him. He offered him the stewardship of Radnitz's rich estate in Bavaria. He would receive an adequate income. He would handle the estate and generally put himself at Radnitz's disposal. Von Goltz jumped at this offer and for the past twenty-five years, he had acted as major-domo to one of the finest private estates in Germany. There were times when Radnitz would visit the estate, look around, satisfy himself that his nephew was doing a good job, have some hunting and then go away. There were times when von Goltz received an abrupt order to visit East Berlin where he met shabby men who handed him packages or letters which he delivered to Radnitz. Once he was ordered to go to Peking where he collected another mysterious package, but these courier jobs didn't often happen. Von Goltz was quite content to do what his uncle told him without question so long as he could remain at the Schloss to hunt, entertain his friends, have women who came from all parts of Europe for a short visit and indulge in his dream fantasy that this splendid Schloss and estate belong to him.

  The previous day, he had received written instructions from Radnitz, and for the first time since he had become Radnitz's steward, he had orders that made him flinch.

  'It is necessary,' Radnitz wrote, 'to get these three films from this girl. You may use any method you may think fit, but she must be persuaded to give them to you. I am sending Lu Silk who will take care of the girl. You need have nothing to do with her disposal. Silk is a professional and is well paid and extremely efficient. But your job is to get the films. Until you have them, Silk is not to proceed with the next move.'

  'I've made it easy for you,' von Goltz said as he sipped his champagne. 'They will be arriving shortly. Once they are here, they won't be allowed to leave. I will get the films from the girl, then I will leave you to get rid of them all.'

  Silk nodded.

  'Okay,' he said. 'I'll keep out of sight until you get the films.' He thought for a long moment, then went on, 'They'll be traced here. You realise that? The hotel will know they are coming. They just can't vanish into space.'

  Von Goltz shrugged.

  'That's your affair. My affair is to get the films.'

  Silk smiled.

  'It will be a mental exercise that will amuse me.' He got to his feet. 'I will keep out of sight. Be careful of Girland. The other two are harmless, but Girland is dangerous.'

  'My uncle has warned me.'

  Silk left the room. He walked slowly up the broad staircase to the second floor. A long walk down a corridor lined on either side by medieval battle weapons brought him to his suite which consisted of a bedroom and a vast sitting-room.

  He let himself into the suite, locked the door, then crossed to the window which overlooked the lower terrace and the main entrance. He sat down, lit a cigarette and stared blankly down the long, winding drive while he waited for the three to arrive.

  The entrance to the Obermitten Schloss was imposing. The flint and stone walls surrounding the estate were twenty feet high with cruel-looking steel barbs mounted along lie top of the wall. The tall wrought iron gates swung open as the black Mercedes slowed and then drove through. Girland followed. His sharp eyes noticed that on both gates was a heraldic shield of black metal. Inscribed in glittering gold leaf were the initials H.R. This puzzled him. H.R.? he wondered. Why not HvG? As he followed the black Mercedes along the winding drive, bordered on either side by dense larch trees, he began to feel a little uneasy. He couldn't explain this uneasiness to himself, but the darkness of the overhanging trees, shutting out the sunlight and the barbed walls gave him a sudden feeling that he was driving into a trap. He told himself this was nonsense, but the feeling persisted.

  He looked into his driving mirror and saw the T.R.4 was following behind. He drove after the black Mercedes for at least five kilometres, then suddenly the gloomy forest was gone and wide, immaculate lawns with ornamental fountains gushing water, banks of daffodils and tulips made a splendid scene against a backdrop of clear blue sky and lazily floating white clouds. Against this scene was the Schloss: an imposing, magnificent building with turrets, terraces ornamented with marble statues and an arched entrance through which two trucks could have easily driven side by side.

  Gilly scrambled out of the T.R.4 and joined Girland as he got out of his car.

  'Just look at this!' she exclaimed breathlessly. 'It's the biggest and most perfect place I've ever seen!'

  Rosnold joined them. He stood staring up at the building, shaking his head in wonderment.

  The huge double wooden doors swung open and von Goltz came out onto the terrace. He waved to them, signalling to them to come up the three flights of marble steps that led to the main terrace.

  'Welcome,' he said, smiling.

  While two liveried servants appeared to take their bags, the three walked up the steps and joined von Goltz.

  'What a dreamy place!' Gilly said excitedly. 'Do you really mean you live here all alone? There must be at least fifty rooms...'

  Von Goltz laughed. He was obviously pleased by her excitement.

  'To be exact
there are a hundred and fifty-five rooms,' he told her. 'It's absurd, of course... an anachronism, but I love the place. I have lived here for twenty-five years. I couldn't bear to leave it.'

  Girland was looking at the terrace furniture. On each wrought iron chair was a tiny shield each bearing the initials H.R. He glanced at von Goltz who was leading Gilly and Rosnold towards the entrance to the Schloss. He followed behind.

  'Fritz will show you to your rooms,' von Goltz said, waving to a short, fat man in livery. 'You will wish to tidy up.

  Suppose we say lunch in half an hour?' he paused, then went on, 'I have put you all close together on the first floor.' He laughed. 'It is easy to get lost in this place.'

  Twenty minutes later, Gilly came into Girland's enormous bedroom with its four-poster bed and its splendid view of the park and distant forest.

  She was wearing a simple white dress and around her suntanned throat was a necklace of large blue beads.

  'Isn't it marvellous?' she said, joining him at the open window. 'Look at that bed... it's made for love!'

  Girland laughed.

  'The one-track mind. Any bed is made for love ... it depends on who occupies it.'

  ‘I'm right next door.' She lowered her voice as she continued, ‘I’ll visit you tonight.'

  Girland lifted his eyebrows.

  'I don't remember inviting you.'

  She laughed.

  'You don't fool me, Casanova. You know you want me. You want me now... anyway, I'm coming tonight.'

  'You have something there.' Girland studied her. She was very desirable. 'Where's Rosnold?'

  'In his room. Let's go down. I'm starving.'

  They moved across the room together. At the door, Gilly paused, looked steadily at Girland, then said, 'Kiss me.'

  As Girland took her in his arms, there came a tap on the door. They moved quickly apart, then Girland opened the door.

  Rosnold was standing in the corridor. He regarded Girland with a long, probing stare.

  ‘I was wondering where you had got to,' he said, shifting his stare to Gilly.

  'Well, here we are. I was investigating his room... look at it! It's marvellous, isn't it?' Gilly said innocently.

  Rosnold glanced into the room and nodded.

  'The whole place is fantastic. What it must cost to run!'

  There was a gentle cough behind them and turning, they saw Fritz standing behind them.

  'Lunch is served if you please,' he said. 'Will you come this way?'

  The lunch was impeccable, served in an enormous high-ceilinged room that could cater for two hundred people. There were footmen in green and gold livery standing behind each chair. The meal began with white caviar, served with chilled vodka, followed by breasts of wild duck in a wine sauce with a 1949 Ausone claret. The dessert, served, with a golden sauterne, was hot-house strawberries in a champagne sorbet.

  During the meal, von Goltz chatted pleasantly, concentrating his attention on Gilly, but also including Girland and Rosnold.

  Girland noticed the table silver all carried the initials H.R. and this again puzzled him.

  As they moved from the big dining-hall into the lounge for coffee, Girland asked, 'Who is H.R.?'

  Von Goltz looked sharply at him, then smiled.

  'You noticed the initials? This place doesn't actually belong to me but to my uncle.'

  'A perfect meal, Count,' Rosnold said as he sank into an armchair. 'I congratulate you. Your chef reaches the standards of my country and that is praise indeed.'

  'He is French,' von Goltz said.

  He sat on a satin-covered settee by Gilly's side. There was a pause while a footman served coffee and cognac.

  When the footman had gone, von Goltz looked directly at Girland.

  'You were curious about my uncle. I believe you have met him.'

  Girland lit a cigarette. There was now an expression on von Goltz's face that he didn't like. Although he remained relaxed, he became mentally very alert.

  'Havel?'

  'Yes. He is Herman Radnitz.'

  Girland's smile remained polite and easy. So they had walked into a trap, he thought as he said, ‘Of course. Once we did some business together. How is he?'

  'Very well.'

  'Will he be visiting you while we are here?'

  'No.' Von Goltz crossed one leg over the other. He sipped his coffee, staring thoughtfully at Girland. 'I don't think we need waste any further time, Mr Girland. You realise now that you have walked into a trap?'

  Girland put down his coffee cup and picked up his brandy glass.

  'If Radnitz is behind your invitation, anything could happen,' he said lightly.

  Gilly was listening to this, her expression bewildered.

  'Can we share the joke, please?' she asked. 'I don't understand.'

  'Of course,' Girland said, stretching out his long legs. 'The count's uncle is one of the richest and most evil men in the world. Had he not been so rich, he would be safely locked up in jail. His real name is Heinrich Kunzli. He made his fortune by supplying the Nazis and the Japs with soap, fertilisers and gunpowder. That seems harmless enough, doesn't it? But the Nazis and the Japs agreed to supply the raw materials for these products. The raw materials were the bones, fat and teeth of the murdered millions from concentration camps. The count's nice uncle laid the foundation of his enormous fortune by turning into money the end-products of the dead bodies of Jews and other victims of the last war.' Girland smiled at von Goltz. 'That is correct, isn't it, Count?’

  Von Goltz showed his teeth in a mirthless grin.

  'Yes . . . near enough, but it is old history now.' He regarded Girland, his eyes glittering. 'You are an interfering, useless man, Girland. This time you will cease to interfere.'

  Girland sipped his brandy and nodded his approval.

  'I've heard all that before... I can't say it ages me.'

  Gilly exclaimed, 'For God's sake... just what is this?'

  'Let me explain,' von Goltz said quietly. 'You are blackmailing your father. You have three films which you are threatening to send to his opposition party unless he withdraws from the election. I want these films.' He stared at her, his eyes suddenly cold. 'I intend to have them.'

  Gilly started to her feet. Blood rushed to her face and then drained away. Her eyes sparkled with anger.

  'You're not getting them!' she cried. 'Pierre! Let's get out of here! Come on... don't sit there like a dummy! Let's go!'

  Rosnold was studying von Goltz who toyed with his brandy glass, relaxed and smiling. His smile sent a chill up Rosnold's spine. He looked at Gilly.

  'Sit down and shut up!' he said sharply. 'Can't you see, you fool, we're caught!'

  'Caught? He can't stop us... I'm going if you're not!' Gilly rushed across the room, jerked open the door and dashed into the vast hall. She ran to the high entrance doors which she found locked. She tugged at the bolts while six, heavily-built men in the count's livery watched her with mask-like faces. The bolts were immovable and with a cry of rage, she spun around, rushed back into the lounge, darted past the three men who watched her and dashed out onto the terrace.

  Below, on the driveway, was the scarlet T.R.4. With a gasp of relief, she started across the terrace to run down the three long flights of marble steps. Then she stopped short. Two huge black alsatian dogs stood at the bottom of the steps and snarled at her. Their white fangs sent a cold shudder of fear through her. She stared down at the dogs, hypnotised with horror. Crouching low and still snarling, the dogs began to climb slowly up the steps towards her. Gilly's nerve broke.

  Whirling around, she ran back into the lounge.

  'Those dogs . . .' she began breathlessly then stopped as von Goltz laughed.

  'Why don't you sit down?' he asked. 'You can't get away. Yes ... those dogs ... they will tear you to pieces if you are stupid enough to challenge them. Where are the films?'

  Gilly faced him, white and scared, but her eyes still flashed with rage.

  'You're not get
ting them!' She turned to Rosnold. 'Do something! Tell him... don't just sit there! Do something!'

  'I warned you.' Rosnold was pale and uneasy. 'I'm not going through with this. I've had enough of it.'

  Girland listened to all this. For a moment he was forgotten. The action now was between Gilly and Rosnold with von Goltz as an interested spectator.

  'He's not having them!' Gilly cried, beating her fists together. 'He can't force us to give them to him! He can't!'

  'But you are mistaken,' von Goltz said, his voice sounded bored. 'When I want something, I always get it. Do you want me to give you a demonstration of my persuasive powers?'

  'Go to hell!' Gilly shouted at him, her eyes flashing. 'You're not having those films! If you don't let us leave I'll - I'll call the police.'

  Von Goltz regarded her as he would regard a difficult child.

  'You are still very young and still very stupid. How do you call the police?'

  Gilly turned desperately to Girland.

  'Aren't you going to do something?' she demanded, going to him and standing over him. 'Do you call yourself a man . . .just sitting there? Get me out of here!'

  'The Count holds the four aces,' Girland said quietly. 'I don't bet against such odds. Give him the films.'

  She turned away from him in disgust.

  'You're not having them!' she said, spinning around to confront von Goltz. 'Understand? You're not having them!'

  Von Goltz waved her away. He looked now at Rosnold and his eyes were glittering with suppressed fury.

  'You realise, of course, I have ways to persuade you both?' he said. 'Why let us have any unpleasantness? Where are the films?'

  Rosnold licked his dry lips.

  'If you tell him, I'll kill you!' Gilly screamed furiously. 'He can't force us ...'

  Von Goltz came out of his chair very quickly. He hit Gilly across her face with the back of his hand with cruel violence.

  She catapulted across the room, smashed into a small occasional table and sprawled on the floor, flat on her back.

  Girland looked down at his hands. This wasn't the time to go into action. He knew for certain that if he made a move the big room would be filled with von Goltz's servants.