pages!'
'Dieter Hauer has them,' Smuts said in a flat voice.
'Doesn't he?'
Hans gulped in surprise. 'Who?' he asked lamely.
'Polizei Captain Dieter Hauer!' Smuts roared. 'The man who helped you
escape from Berlin! What kind of game is the fool hying to play? Where
is he now?'
Hans felt suddenly faint. Phoenix knew everything. They had known from
the beginning. 'Hauer doesn't have the pages, I ' I ' he said. 'I
swear it. The pages were stolen in Germany.
Smuts grabbed him by the sleeve and jerked him across the room toward
the window. Hans was amazed by the strength in the wiry arm.
Pulling back the curtains, Smuts waved his arm back and forth across the
pane. Satisfied with what he saw, he motioned for Hans to step forward.
Puzzled, Hans put his face to the glass. When he saw what waited
beyond, every muscle in his exhausted body went rigid. Thirty meters
from the window, Ilse Apfel stood facing the house. Her hands were
bound with wire. Affixed@ to the wire was a long chain, held at the
other end by Hans'-@ Zulu driver. At the Zulu's feet lay an old black
tire; beside.
him stood Lieutenant Jiirgen Luhr of the West Berlin police Luhr wore
civilian clothes, but his tall black boots gleamed, in the sun.
seeing Hans in the window, Luhr smiled and pressed a Walther PI against
Ilse's left temple. Smuts caught Hans in a bear hug and held him still.
'Ilse!' Hans shouted.
Ilse moved her head slightly, as if she had sensed the, sound but could
not locate its source. When Luhr jabbed the' pistol barrel into her
ear, Hans jumped as if the gun had struck his own head. He sucked in a
rush of air to shout again, but Smuts cut him off.
'Scream again, Sergeant, and she dies. I presume you know that man out
there?'
Hans had only spoken to Jiirgen Luhr in person once, but he would never
forget it. Luhr had called him in for the, polygraph session at
Abschnitt 53, the call that had started, all the madness. Luhr was the
man who had gouged the Star of David into Erhard Weiss's chest. His
presence here, five thousand miles from Germany, compounded Hans's sense
of dislocation.
Smuts released Hans. 'Step back from the window,' he, commanded.
Hans didn't move.
'Step back!'
When Hans refused, Smuts gave another hand signal. The Zulu handed the
leash chain to Luhr, then reached down an lifted the tire high into the
air. As it hung suspended like a black halo over Ilse's head, amber
liquid sloshed out of it onto her hair. With a sadistic grin the Zulu
jerked the tire savagely down around Ilse's torso, pinning her arms to
her sides.
Smuts spoke from behind Hans. 'Are you familiar with the 'necklace,'
Sergeant? It's a local native specialty. They fill an old tire with
gasoline, pin the victim's arms to his sides with the tire-thus the term
'necklace'-then they set the gasoline afire. The results are quite
ghastly, even to a , man of my wide experience. A human torch running
about Blind with rage, Hans hurled himself backward and hammered his
elbow into Smuts's chest. Then he whirled, lowered his head like a
bull, and drove the Afrikaner back toward the heavy door. The sudden
attack startled Smuts, but as the Afrikaner backpedaled toward the wood,
he bucked his knee into Hans's ribs-an upward blow so sharp and quick
that Hans did not even realize what had hit him. He went down gasping.
When he looked up, Smuts was standing across the room, arms folded,
glaring at him.
'Let her go!' Hans begged. 'What has she done to you?'
'Where is Captain Hauer, Sergeant?'
Hans staggered to his feet and went to the window. Ilse's face had
taken on an ashen pallor. She had recognized the smell of gasoline, and
with it the terrible danger. She swayed -slightly on her feet. Luhr
jabbed his pistol at her. Behind Hans, Smuts lifted his hand yet again.
Grinning, Luhr reached into his pocket, withdrew a cigarette lighter,
and flicked it alight. He held the flame less than a meter from Ilse,
his arm stretched to its limit in case the gasoline vapor should
accidentally ignite.
'Don't make me do it, Sergeant,' Smuts said into Hans's ear.
'Why give Lieutenant Luhr the enjoyment at your expense?'
'You fucking animal! Hauer's at the hotel!'
'Which hotel?'
'The Bronberrick Motel! Now let her go!'
Smuts raised his hand once more, and Luhr, his face red with anger and
disappointment, snapped his cigarette lighter ;hut. The Zulu shoved
roughly down on the tire until it lropped at Ilse's feet, then he led
her away.
like a dying chicken-'
'Let's go, Sergeant,' said Smuts, pulling Hans toward the door.
'You've got a telephone call to make.'
326 pm. Room 604. The Protea Hot Hotel
'I ought to shoot you!' Hauer growled. 'You senile idiot!'
'Steady, Captain,' Professor Natterman urged. 'I told you I meant to
get here one way or another.'
Hauer's mind reeled. How could he have been so stupid as to leave
Natterman holding a shotgun on the forger in Wolfsburg? The professor
had probably gotten the false passport names before he and Hans had
driven a mile from the cabin!
'Are you alone?' Hauer asked sharply.
Natterman's eyes flicked to the door. 'Please don't overreact, Captain.
I was in no position to get here on my own.'
'Who is with you?'
'Another old man like me. He's a Jew.'
Hauer whirled around toward the foyer and covered the door with his
pistol. 'Where is he?'
'Is Hans with you?' Natterman asked.
'Where is this Jew?'
Hauer's question was answered by a deep, unfamiliar voice. 'I am
