Daranyi. He was lying on his stomach, his arms up on the pillow and his head sideways within his arms, so that his face pointed towards Craig. His dazed eyes, with their sedated pupils, were on his visitors.
Quickly, Craig took the chair beside Daranyi.
Lilly knelt on the floor below the bed. Anxiously, she said to Craig, ‘Do not waste words. Even though it is not so serious, he is weak and in pain. Go to the point. I have already told him of Emily being with her father, and what is wanted of Professor Stratman. I am not sure Daranyi understood everything, but-’
Daranyi made a sound, from his pillow, halfway between protestation and groaning. ‘Lil-ly-I understand.’
‘He knows all about it, then,’ Lilly said to Craig excitedly.
Craig leaned towards the pained face on the pillow. ‘Daranyi, you can hear me-I have only an hour-a man named Eckart has Max Stratman’s brother here. He-the brother-was supposed to have been killed long ago by the Russians, but he’s alive-been brought here somewhere in this city-in order to make Professor-’
‘I-understand.’
‘Have you ever heard the name Hans Eckart?’
‘Yes,’ Daranyi answered immediately, almost professionally. ‘A German physicist, East Berlin. He lunched with Professor Stratman on December fifth.’
‘Anything more?’
‘No-nothing.’
‘Daranyi, once you told me that you had an assignment from someone connected with the Nobel Prize awards. And Lilly has told me you were supposed to dig up inside stuff on those of us who are laureates.’
Daranyi closed his eyes and grunted into the pillows. ‘Yes. I had that assignment.’ His eyes remained closed, and the mound of blanket shuddered in a slight spasm of distress.
Immediately, Lilly reached out to touch him. ‘You are suffering too much. You have said enough. You must not-’
Daranyi’s lids opened and his eyes were alert and angry. ‘Quiet, Lilly. Can I not have a pain like ordinary mortals!’ He focused on Craig. ‘I have said little, but I am going to say much. Craig, these wounds of the flesh are nothing. The real injury that has occurred is to my professional pride. I have done this work for years. This you know. Always, I have been treated with dignity, with respect, like any competent workman should be. But this time I have been insulted-insulted. To have taken on this most difficult assignment-to have done so well, delivered so much, in good faith-and to be paid not in the salary I requested but in violence. This outrageous breach I shall not forgive. If I cannot have money, I will have revenge. Craig, I pray you can extract such payment for me.’
‘I’d like nothing better.’
‘Good.’ Daranyi tried to lift his head, groaned, and dropped his head to the pillow once more. He sucked his breath, and then he said, ‘Craig-what-what was on the tape? What did Eckart say? What did the girl say? Omit no detail.’
Speaking with precision and haste, Craig repeated, to the best of his memory, the threat of the tape recording. When he was through, he thought that Daranyi had not heard him, for the man appeared to be dozing or unsconscious. Suddenly Daranyi spoke. ‘Walther Stratman was known as Kurt Lipski all these years-is that what the voice said?’
‘Exactly.’
The head on the pillow moved with some private understanding. The eyes opened fully. ‘Yes,’ said Daranyi quietly, ‘it is all one, then. I gave them the information about Lipski, the clue that Walther Stratman was that person and still alive. They had no idea about Lipski and his interest in Miss Stratman until I dug it out and gave it to them.’ He winced. ‘And you see how they paid me for-for giving them this information.’ His face showed anguish. ‘The pain they have given me-’
Lilly grabbed Craig’s arm. ‘Mr. Craig, he is so white. He must not go on. He will faint. Please-’
‘Wait,’ Craig snapped, pushing her hand away. He turned back to the bed. ‘Daranyi, for God’s sake, while you can-to whom did you give this information? Whoever it was, that is the person at the bottom of it, the person responsible for bringing Walther here. Tell me
Daranyi had vengeful strength for this. ‘Dr. Carl-Adolf-Krantz. He assigned-accepted-the information-paid me- this way… I gave him the photocopies-about-Emily Stratman-and-and-Ravensbruck-and about-the inquiries-from Lipski-from Russia-and now-’ The breathing from the pillow was heavier. ‘He-Krantz-Krantz-is-the-one-to-find- he-’
But the voice drifted off, as the lids folded over the eyes.
‘Daranyi,’ pleaded Craig.
Lilly was touching Craig’s arm. ‘You have what you want.’
‘Yes, but-’
The door had opened behind him, and the two stretcher-bearers came in with the doctor.
‘-I had just wanted to ask him,’ finished Craig lamely, ‘what he meant by Ravensbruck.’
As Craig rose and backed off, the doctor replaced him and looked down at Daranyi. ‘The patient is unconscious,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘We must move him to the hospital. Do not be worried. The injuries are superficial.’ He considered Craig curiously. ‘You learned what you wanted from him?’
‘I think so,’ said Craig. ‘Yes, I have what I want.’ Lost in thought, trying to fit together the puzzle, Craig walked through the living-room with Lilly, ignored Sue Wiley, and went into the hall.
‘Krantz?’ said Lilly in an undertone.
Craig nodded. ‘Krantz.’
‘I must remain with Daranyi,’ she said. ‘You must find Krantz and Emily. Do not take bad chances-the police-’
Craig took Lilly’s hands. ‘When you know about Daranyi, phone me at Concert Hall if it is before six-thirty. Otherwise-’
‘You will hear from me, Mr. Craig.’
Craig nodded, and hurried-outside into the darkening cold. The spectators were still there wondering, and the ambulance, waiting, its rear doors flung open, and across the street he could distinguish Gunnar Gottling behind the wheel of the station-wagon.
When he slid in beside Gottling, he said, ‘I think we’ve got our man.’
‘Name him.’
‘Carl Adolf Krantz.’
Even Gottling, whose features were too arrogant to concede surprise at any time, showed astonishment. ‘Krantz? I always knew that little rat was pro-German and anti the human race, but I always thought he was too proud of his position-a judge on two Nobel committees-to sink to this. So it’s Krantz? Are you sure?’
‘Daranyi was positive. Krantz hired him to do some espionage on the Nobel laureates-apparently Professor Stratman and Emily were the real targets-in order to get something on the Stratmans and force the Professor to come over to the other side. Daranyi dug up some information no one else but Krantz knew or could use-and the key part of that information was on the tape.’
‘I’ll be goddamned, then it’s true,’ said Gottling. ‘But I’ll bet my britches it isn’t Krantz alone. He’s gutless. If a poodle barks, he goes up a tree. I called him a rat. That’s too princely. He’s a weasel, really. There must be others.’
Craig chafed irritably. ‘I’m not interested in nit-picking. I don’t care who in the hell is responsible. I just want to find Emily and her father. Daranyi says Krantz, so Krantz it is.’
‘Simmer down, pal. What time you got?’
‘Ten past four.’
‘We’d better shake the lead out of our asses then. If I remember, everyone leaves for Concert Hall in ten or fifteen minutes.’ He started the station-wagon. ‘Krantz is probably still in his apartment, getting ready to leave.’
‘Do you know where he lives?’
‘Ha, who in Stockholm doesn’t? It was the only balcony in the city, during the war, that was draped with a swastika!’
Gottling had said ten or fifteen minutes, but now he accelerated the Volvo through the Old Town, wheeling and careering, as if there were only one minute to make St. Peter’s gate. They passed gay, open Christmas stalls and the municipal Christmas tree on Stortorget. They sped over the illuminated bridge, twisting away along the
