angle of view. Nevertheless he put the nozzle in the can and started to pump, knowing he would be seen if the man chanced to turn around. He filled the can, replaced the nozzle, screwed the cap on the can, and walked away.
He was almost at the woods when he heard a shout.
He pretended to be deaf and walked on without turning around or increasing his pace.
The sentry shouted again, and Harald heard running boots.
He passed into the trees. Karen appeared. “Get out of sight!” she whispered. “I’ll head him off.”
Harald darted into a patch of shrubbery. Lying flat, he wriggled under a rambling bush, dragging the can with him. Thor tried to follow him, thinking this was a game. Harald smacked him sharply on the nose, and the dog retreated, his feelings hurt.
Harald heard the sentry say, “Where’s that man?”
“You mean Christian?” Karen said.
“Who is he?”
“One of the gardeners. You’re terribly handsome when you’re cross, Ludie.”
“Never mind that, what was he doing?”
“Treating diseased trees with the stuff in that can, something that kills those ugly mushroom growths you see on tree trunks.”
That was inventive of her, Harald thought, even if she’s forgotten the German word for fungicide.
“This early?” Ludie said skeptically.
“He told me the treatment works best when it’s cool.”
“I saw him walking away from the petrol tanker.”
“Petrol? What would Christian do with petrol? He doesn’t have a car. I expect he was taking a shortcut across the lawn.”
“Hm.” Ludie was still uneasy. “I haven’t noticed any diseased trees.”
“Well, look at this.” Harald heard them take a few paces. “See that growing out of the bark like a great big wart? It would kill the tree unless Christian treated it.”
“I suppose it would. Well, please tell your servants to keep clear of the encampment.”
“I will, and I apologize. I’m sure Christian meant no harm.”
“Very well.”
“Goodbye, Ludie. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Bye.”
Harald waited a few minutes, then he heard Karen say, “All clear.”
He crawled out from the bush. “You were brilliant!”
“I’m becoming such a good liar, it’s worrying.”
They walked toward the monastery-and suffered another shock.
As they were about to leave the shelter of the woods, Harald saw Per Hansen, the village policeman and local Nazi, standing outside the church.
He cursed. What the hell was Hansen doing here? And at this time of the morning?
Hansen was standing still, legs apart and arms folded, looking across the park at the military encampment. Harald put a restraining hand on Karen’s arm, but he was too late to stop Thor, who instantly sensed the hostility Karen felt. The dog erupted from the woods at a run, made for Hansen, stopped at a safe distance, and barked again. Hansen looked scared and angry, and his hand went to the holstered gun at his belt.
Karen whispered, “I’ll deal with him.” Without waiting for Harald to reply she went forward and whistled to the dog. “Come here, Thor!”
Harald put down his can of petrol, dropped to a crouch, and watched through the leaves.
Hansen said to Karen, “You should keep that dog under control.”
“Why? He lives here.”
“It’s aggressive.”
“He barks at intruders. It’s his job.”
“If it attacks a member of the police force, it might be shot.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Karen said, and Harald could not help observing that she displayed all the arrogance of her wealth and social position. “What are you doing, snooping around my garden at the crack of dawn?”
“I’m on official business, young lady, so you mind your manners.”
“Official business?” she said skeptically. Harald guessed she was pretending to be incredulous in order to get more information out of him. “What business?”
“I’m looking for someone called Harald Olufsen.”
Harald murmured, “Oh, shit.” He had not been expecting this.
Karen was shocked, but she managed to cover up. “Never heard of him,” she said.
“He’s a school friend of your brother’s, and he’s wanted by the police.”
“Well, I can’t be expected to know all my brother’s schoolmates.”
“He’s been to the castle.”
“Oh? What does he look like?”
“Male, eighteen years old, six feet one inch, fair hair and blue eyes, probably wearing a blue school blazer with a stripe on the sleeve.” Hansen sounded as if he were reciting something he had memorized from a police report.
“He sounds terribly attractive, apart from the blazer, but I don’t recall him.” Karen was maintaining her air of careless disdain, but Harald could see the tension and worry on her face.
“He’s been here twice at least,” Hansen said. “I’ve seen him myself.”
“I must have missed him. What’s his crime, failing to return a library book?”
“I don’t-that is, I can’t say. I mean, it’s a routine inquiry.”
Hansen obviously did not know what the crime was, Harald thought. He must be asking on behalf of some other policeman-Peter Flemming, presumably.
Karen was saying, “Well, my brother has gone to Aarhus, and there’s no one staying here now-apart from a hundred soldiers, of course.”
“Last time I saw Olufsen, he had a very dangerous-looking motorcycle.”
“Oh,
“No? Well, I think I’ll have a word with your father anyway.”
“He’s still asleep.”
“I’ll wait.”
“As you please. Come on, Thor!” Karen walked away, and Hansen continued up the drive.
Harald waited. Karen approached the church, turned to check that Hansen was not watching her, then slipped through the door. Hansen walked up the drive toward the castle. Harald hoped he would not stop to talk to Ludie, and discover that the sentry had seen a tall blond man behaving suspiciously near the petrol tanker. Fortunately, Hansen walked past the encampment and eventually disappeared behind the castle, presumably heading for the kitchen door.
Harald hurried to the church and slipped inside. He put the last can of petrol down on the tiled floor.
Karen closed the big door, turned the key in the lock, and dropped the bar into place. Then she turned to Harald. “You must be exhausted.”
He was. Both arms hurt, and his legs ached from hurrying through the woods with a heavy weight. As soon as he relaxed, he felt slightly nauseated from the petrol fumes. But he was ecstatically happy. “You were wonderful!” he said. “Flirting with Ludie as if he were the most eligible bachelor in Denmark.”
“He’s two inches shorter than me!”
“And you completely fooled Hansen.”
“Not difficult, that.”
Harald picked up the can again and put it in the cabin of the Hornet Moth, stowing it on the luggage shelf behind the seats. He closed the door and turned around to see Karen standing right behind him, grinning broadly. “We did it,” she said.
“My God, we did.”
