off. Now shut up and let me concentrate, for Christ's sake!'
Chapter Nineteen
'We take that car! We leave within ten minutes..'
Inside the large anteroom Lindsay and Christa were in the middle of a ferocious argument. The Englishman made no reply to what she had just said as she fought to drive him into a decision. She had been alternately pleading and berating. Now she grasped both his lapels, stood up on her toes so their faces were level and tugged hard as she went on speaking.
'Listen to me! Did you see anyone while you were outside?'
'No
'Did you look to see if anyone was watching the car?'
'Yes, but..'
'No 'buts', for God's sake! That file on me Gruber has sent to Berlin for will reach here any day now. Do you want me to end up in a concentration camp?'
Gently he took hold of both her wrists and released himself from her grasp. Still holding on, he pushed her into a chair, motioned to her to stay put.
'It's all too easy and convenient,' he said. 'No one about inside the place, no one outside..
'It's Sunday…!'
It was so bloody tempting, Lindsay thought. The timing was right. If they got away today, tomorrow was Monday – the day for contacting Paco. And with luck Christa – with her local knowledge – could get them through to Munich from Salzburg. He began thinking aloud.
'Having met Jaeger I have some idea of what makes him tick. If he were setting a trap he'd do it something like this..'
'He'd at least have parked the car where you could see it from the corridor window upstairs. You said you couldn't see it.
'I couldn't..'
'Well then!'
'If I were Jaeger,' Lindsay persisted, 'I wouldn't make it that obvious. And I wouldn't post watchers where they could be seen, I'd stay back and wait…'
'Wait! Wait! Wait! That's all you can think of!'
'I remember when I met Hitler before the war. We had a very long conversation. He told me that in any crisis he always waited until events developed, until something gave him a sign as to which was the direction he should move in. I'm a bit like Hitler.
'You lack his resolution,' she retorted bitterly.
'I've noticed there's a big laundry truck which arrives daily – to collect dirty linen and deliver fresh. The guards have become used to that truck. I've watched them from my corridor window. What I don't know is does it call on Sunday?'
'How should I know?' she asked sulkily. 'I'm kept occupied the other side of the Berghof. Why are you wasting time on this truck?'
'It arrives each day with commendable Teutonic promptness at the same time – exactly eleven o'clock in the morning.' Lindsay was walking slowly backwards and forwards while Christa fidgeted on the chair. 'There is only one man with that truck, no guards, just the driver, a short, fat man in overalls who heaves inside great bales of fresh laundry. Then he takes out the dirty stuff in white sacks, dumps them in the back, hauls down the door and drives off. There's the name of some firm in Salzburg on the side. Salzburg is where we want to go…'
'Where do we go from there?' she asked.
'Later..'
He was determined not to reveal their destination until the last minute. 'That laundry truck could be our transport to freedom,' he continued. 'When the door is up I can see inside from that window. There's a whole load of stuff that isn't unloaded here we could hide under. And my guess is the checkpoints are so used to the truck by now they won't search it, just so long as the alarm hasn't been raised here. Where are you supposed to be at eleven this morning? And while I remember it, have you any idea how long the truck should take to get back to Salzburg, assuming it has no more calls?'
`I have seen the truck leaving? Christa said thoughtfully. 'He drives like a maniac – in a hurry to get off duty, I suppose. My guess is he has to be in Salzburg one hour after leaving here. As to my whereabouts, I'm off duty today. Traudl is taking down the minutes at the midday conference..'
'So where would you normally be?'
'Reading, resting, doing washing and ironing in my room. No one comes near me.' She looked up, her expression more relaxed. 'You could be missed quickly.'
'It's the luck of the draw. Gruber grilled me yesterday – and went away disgusted. I could be left alone today. Sunday. They bring me breakfast at eight, collect the tray half an hour later – and lunch isn't until one-thirty..'
'So.. Christa was becoming absorbed in the details. 'The truck takes one hour, which means we reach Salzburg at midday. I looked up trains to both Vienna and Munich – since you're so cagey about our destination. I suppose you'll trust me one day…' A wistful – not resentful – note crept into her voice. Again Lindsay began to worry about her feelings towards him.
'I have people to protect,' he said shortly.
'I do understand. We reach Salzburg about midday. It's going to be a tight schedule, whichever way we go. There's an express to Vienna at 12.15, one to Munich at 12.30. If it is Munich we might just make it before they realize you are gone. The express arrives at 1.30 pm, the very moment they bring your lunch. Vienna is well over three hours..'
'We'll have to take our chances,' he said quietly. 'There are a lot of imponderables. Whether the truck goes anywhere near the station is just one of them..'
'And whether the laundry truck calls Sunday is another,' she reminded him. 'We meet here later?' 'Yes, as near to 10.45 as we can make it.'
'I still think we ought to grab that car.' She stood up and went to the window. 'We know that is available.'
He came up behind her and squeezed her arms reassuringly. 'The laundry truck it is. I've made up my mind.'
'All right.' She turned, looked up at him and produced a Luger 9-mm. pistol from her jacket pocket. 'I took this from a place where it won't be missed for days. I have a spare magazine. I'll give them to you just before we leave…' She hesitated.
'Christa, what is it?'
'Ian, I want you to promise me something. If we're on the verge of being captured, shoot me, please. Then maybe you'd better use the next bullet on yourself..' She turned away, her voice trembling. 'If we have to go… I'd like us to go together..'
He felt like hell. He couldn't think what to do, what to say. Just helpless. He reached out to. touch her as she remained with her back to him and then dropped his hands to his sides. Her feeling for him was worse than he'd thought. And he couldn't reciprocate the emotion.
'Let's see first whether that truck does call Sundays,' he said roughly and left the room.
'Move the bloody car back into the garage,' Colonel Jaeger rasped.
It was ten o'clock in the morning, heavy snow was falling and the far side of the valley and the mountains beyond were blotted out by the white pall. Jaeger, stiff with standing in one position for so long, so fixed had been his concentration watching the hairpin bend, was frustrated and in a rage.
'We could wait a little longer…' Schmidt began.
It was the wrong remark. Jaeger turned on his subordinate and exploded. 'Are you mentally unstable? A few hours ago you were criticizing me for not parking the bloody Mercedes on the front doorstep! Now you propose we hang about here for ever! The men outside from the motor battalion are freezing to death. Do as I damned well tell
