you see that she's half-dead with cold?”
“I do believe her teeth are chattering,” von Brauchitsch said with a smile. “I thought it might have been me. Well, the cable-car after the next one, then.”
“And I'm going with her,” Heidi announced.
“Both of you?” Von Brauchitsch shook his head and smiled again. Von. Brauchitsch was always smiling. “My lucky night.”
“Permits, travel documents, identity cards and letters you have,” Heidi said. She fished up some papers from the recesses of her Tyrolean blouse and handed them to Mary who was sitting across from her on the bed in her room. “Plan of the castle and instructions. Do your homework well then give them back to me. I'll take them up. You might be searched—they're a suspicious bunch up there. And drink up that Schnapps—first thing von Brauchitsch will do is to smell your breath. Just to check. He checks everything. He's the most suspicious of the lot.”
“He seemed a very pleasant man to me,” Mary said mildly.
“He's a very unpleasant Gestapo officer,” Heidi said dryly.
When Heidi returned to the bar, Smith and Schaffer had been rejoined by Carraciola, Thomas and Christiansen. All five appeared to be carefree in their drinking and chatting inconsequentially, but their low and urgent voices were evidence enough of the desperate worry in their minds. Or in the minds of some of them.
“You haven't seen old Smithy, then?” Smith asked quietly. “None of you saw him go? Then where in hell has he got to?”
There was no reply, but the shrugs and worried frowns were reply enough. Christiansen said: “Shall I go and have a look?”
“I don't think so,” Smith said. “I'm afraid it's too late to go anywhere now.”
Both doors of “Zum Wilden Hirsch” had suddenly burst open and half a dozen soldiers were coming quickly in through either door. All had slung machine-carbines, Schmeissers, at the ready. They fanned out along the walls and waited, machine-carbines horizontal, fingers on triggers, their eyes very calm, very watchful.
“Well, well,” Christiansen murmured. “It was a nice war.”
The sudden and total silence was emphasised rather than broken by the crisp footfalls on the wooden floor as a full colonel of the Wehrmacht came striding into the room and looked coldly around him. The gargantuan proprietor of the Gasthaus came hurrying round from the back of the bar, tripping over chairs in the anxiety and fear limned so unmistakably clearly in his round pumpkin of a face.
“Colonel Weissner!” It required no acute ear to catch the shake in the proprietor's voice. “What in God's name—”.
“No fault of yours, mein Herr.” The colonel's words were reassuring which was more than the tone of his voice was. “But you harbour enemies of the state.”
“Enemies of the state” In a matter of seconds the proprietor's complexion had changed from a most unbecoming puce to an even more unbecoming washed-out grey while his voice now quavered like a high-C tuning fork. “What? I? I, Josef Wartmann—”
“Please.” The colonel held up his hand for silence. “We are looking for four or five Alpenkorps deserters from the Stuttgart military prison. To escape, they killed two officers and a guardroom sergeant. They were known to be heading this way.”
Smith nodded and said in Schaffer's ear: “Very clever. Very clever indeed.”
“Now then,” Weissner continued briskly. “If they're here, we'll soon have them. I want the senior officers present of drafts thirteen, fourteen and fifteen to come forward.” He waited until two majors and a captain came forward and stood at attention before him. “You know all your officers and men by sight?”
The three officers nodded.
“Good. I wish you—”
“No need, Colonel.” Heidi had come round from behind the bar and now stood before Weissner, hands clasped respectfully behind her back. “I know the man you're after. The ringleader.”
“Ah!” Colonel Weissner smiled. “The charming—”
“Heidi, Herr Colonel. I have waited table on you up in the Schloss Adler.”
Weissner bowed gallantly. “As if one could ever forget.”
“That one.” Her face full of a combination of righteous indignation and devotion to duty, Heidi pointed a dramatically accusing finger at Smith. “That's the one, Herr Colonel. He—he pinched me!”
“My dear Heidi!” Colonel Weissner smiled indulgently. “If we were to convict every man who ever harboured thoughts of—”
“Not that, Herr Colonel. He asked me what I knew or had heard about a man called General Cannabee—I think.”
“General Carnaby!” Colonel Weissner was no longer smiling. He glanced at Smith, motioned guards to close in on him, then glanced back at Heidi. “What did you tell him?”
“Herr Colonel!” Heidi was stiff with outraged dignity. “I hope I am a good German. And I value my engagements at the Schloss Adler.” She half-turned and pointed across the room. “Captain von Brauchitsch of the Gestapo will vouch for me.”
“No need. We will not forget this, my dear child.” He patted her affectionately on the cheek, then turned to Smith, the temperature of his voice dropping from warm to subzero. “Your accomplices, sir, and at once.”
“At once, my dear Colonel?” The look he gave Heidi was as glacial as the Colonel's voice. “Surely not. Let's get our priorities straight. First, her thirty pieces of silver. Then us.”
“You talk like a fool,” Colonel Weissner said contemptuously. “Heidi is a true patriot.”
“I'm sure she is,” Smith said bitterly.
Mary, her face still and shocked, stared down from the uncurtained crack in Heidi's dark room as Smith and the four others were led out of the front door of “Zum Wilden Hirsch” and marched off down the road under heavy escort to where several command cars were parked on the far side of the street. Brusquely, efficiently, the prisoners were bundled into two of the cars, engines started up and within a minute both cars were lost to sight round a bend in the road. For almost a minute afterwards Mary stood there, staring out unseeingly on the swirling snow, then pulled the curtains together and turned back towards the darkened room.
She said in a whisper: “How did it happen?”
A match scratched as Heidi lit and turned up the flame of the oil lamp.
“I can't guess.” Heidi shrugged. “Someone, I don't know who, must have tipped Colonel Weissner off. But I put a finger on him.”
Mary stared at her. “You—you—”
“He'd have been found out in another minute anyway. They were strangers. But it strengthens our hand. I— and you—are now above suspicion.”
“Above suspicion!” Mary looked at her in disbelief then went on, almost wildly: “But there's no point in going ahead now!”
“Is there not?” Heidi said thoughtfully. “Somehow, I feel sorrier for Colonel Weissner than I do for Major Smith. Is not our Major Smith a man of resource? Or do our employers in Whitehall lie to us? When they told me he was coming here, they told me not to worry, to trust him implicitly. A man of infinite resource—those were their exact words—who can extricate himself from positions of utmost difficulty. They have a funny way of talking in Whitehall. But already I trust him. Don't you?”
There was no reply. Mary stared at the floor, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Heidi touched her arm and said softly, “You love him as much as that?”
Mary nodded in silence.
“And does he love you?”
“I don't know. I just don't know. He's been too long in this business—even if he did know,” she said bitterly, “he probably wouldn't tell himself.”
Heidi looked at her for a moment, shook her head and said: “They should never have sent you. How can you hope to—” She broke off, shook her head again, and went on: “It's too late now. Come on. We mustn't keep von Brauchitsch waiting.”
“But—but if he doesn't come? If he can't escape—and how can he escape?” She gestured despairingly at the papers lying on the bed. “They're bound to check with Dusseldorf first thing in the morning about those forged
