River of Death

them, his elderly but no doubt still lethal Schmeisser levelled directly at them: he had about him the look of a man who was yearning for an excuse to use it.

Navarro finally broke the silence. 'I fear for the health of our Mr Smith. Hiller, too, come to that.'

'Never mind about their damned health,' Hamilton said. 'Start fearing for your own. When he's finished with those two who do you think is next on his list, whether or not he indulges in a little torture beforehand?' He sighed. 'Trust old trusty secret agent Hamilton to tell all. Von Manteuffel knows who I am, who Maria is, and who you two so-called Greek intelligence officers are. He can't let us live and I'm afraid he can't let Silver or Serrano live cither — obviously.'

'Speaking of Serrano,' Ramon said, 'could I have a word with you?'

'Go ahead.'

'In private, if you please.'

'If that's what you want.' The two men moved to a corner of the room where Ramon spoke in a low rapid tone. Hamilton lifted his eyebrows and his face registered surprise, an emotion he had practically never betrayed. Then he shrugged his shoulders, nodded twice, turned thoughtfully away and looked at the sentry.

'Big man,' Hamilton said. 'My size. Black from head to toe — beret, jacket, trousers, shoes. I want those clothes. More importantly, I want that gun. Even more importantly still, I want them both fast.'

'Easy,' Ramon said. 'Just ask him.'

Hamilton didn't reply. Savagely, almost, and to the accompaniment of the indrawn hiss of Maria's breath, he bit the ball of his left thumb. At once the blood began to flow. He squeezed the torn flesh until the blood flowed even more freely, then smeared it over Ramon's uncomprehending face.

'All in the interest of art,' Hamilton told him. 'Brother, what a fight this is going to be.'

The 'fight' started in the corner of the store, just out of the sentry's line of sight. The sentry would have been less than human not to locate the source of the sound of the heavy blows, the shouting and swearing. He moved forward into the doorway.

Hamilton and Ramon were belabouring each other mightily, fighting in apparently vicious fury, kicking and punching and obviously intent on inflicting grievous and mutual bodily harm. The sentry was clearly startled, but not suspicious. He had a heavily brutalised face behind which there lurked no great intelligence.

'Stop that!' he shouted. 'You madmen! Stop it or-'

He broke off as one of the combatants received a seemingly murderous blow and came staggering to fall flat on his back, half in and half out of the doorway, eyes turned up in his head, the face masked with blood. The sentry stepped by him, ready to quell any further signs of trouble. Ramon's hands closed round his ankles.

Four men prepared to carry three blanket-covered, stretchered forms from Von Manteuffel's room.': Von Manteuffel said: 'It can be fatal to allow an enemy to live longer than is necessary.' He paused, briefly, for thought. 'Over the side with them. Think of all those poor starving piranha. As for our other friends in the grain store, I don't think they can supply me with any more useful information. You know what to do.'

'Yes, Herr General,' one of the men said. 'We know what to do.' His face was wolfish in anticipation.

Von Manteuffel glanced at his watch. 'I will expect you back in exactly five minutes. After you've given the piranha their second course.'

A figure, dressed all in black, faced the grain store with a levelled Schmeisser in his hands. He heard the sound of footsteps some way off and glanced quickly over his shoulder. Four men — the four who had disposed of Spaatz and Hiller — were about thirty yards away: their machine carbines were shoulder slung. The dark figure continued to gaze at the door of the grain store, waited until his ears told him that the approaching group were no more than five yards away, then swung round with his Schmeisser blazing.

Maria said in a subdued tone: 'You play for keeps, don't you? You didn't have to kill them.'

'True. True. But, then, I didn't want them to kill me. You don't play footsy with cornered rats. Those are desperate men and you can bet that each one is a trained, efficient and practiced killer. I don't much feel like apologising.'

'And no need,' said Ramon who, like his brother, had remained unmoved by the proceedings. 'The only good Nazi is one who has stopped breathing. So. Five guns. What do we do?' 'We stay here because here we're safe. Von Manteuffel may have thirty, forty men, maybe even more. Out in the open we'd be massacred.' He glanced down at the stirring figure of the sentry. 'Ah! Junior is coming to. I think we'll send him for a little walk so that he can apprise his boss that there's been a slight change in the status quo. Remove his uniform — should give Von Manteuffel quite a turn.'

Von Manteuffel was making some notes at his desk when the knock came on the door. He glanced at his watch and smiled in satisfaction. Exactly five minutes had elapsed since his four men had departed, just over two minutes since he had heard the burst of machine-gun fire which could only have signalled the end of the six captives. He called out permission to enter, made a final note, said: 'You are very punctual,' and looked up. His expression of surprise vanished and his eyes opened almost impossibly widely. The stumbling figure before him was clad only in his underclothes.

The store was deep in shadow. The single lamp had been switched off and what little light there was came from a newly risen moon.

'Fifteen minutes and nothing,' Navarro said. 'Is that good?'

'It's inevitable, I suppose,' Hamilton said. 'We're in darkness. Von Manteuffel's men are exposed, or would be if they showed themselves and they don't dare show themselves. What can they do? Smoke us out if the wind is right? But no wind, so no smoke.'

Ramon said: 'Starve us out?'

'We should live that long.'

The time crawled by. Apart from Navarro, who stood by the doorway, everyone was lying down. They may or may not have been trying to sleep for some had their eyes shut but were unquestionably wide awake. Navarro said: 'Two hours. That's two hours gone now. Still nothing.'

'Would you mind, watchman? I'm trying to sleep.' Hamilton sat up. 'Don't think I will sleep. They may be up to something. I've no cigarettes. Anybody? No?' Serrano proffered a packet. 'I thought you were asleep. Thanks. You know, I wasn't quite sure whether or not to believe what you told me, but I believe you now if for no other reason than the fact that it has to be as you say. So I guess I owe you an apology.' He paused reflectively: 'Apologising seems to have become a habit with me.'

Ramon said curiously: 'May we know what the present apology is about?'

'Of course. Serrano is government. On the need-to-know principle, I suppose, Colonel Diaz kind of forgot to tell me.'

'Government?'

'Ministry of Culture. Fine Arts.'

'God help us all,' Ramon said. 'I would have thought there were enough genuine vultures in those godforsaken parts without adding culture vultures to the list. What on earth are you doing here, Serrano?'

'That's what I hope to find out.'

'Forthcoming, aren't we? Senor Hamilton?'

'I told you, I only learnt of this a couple of hours ago.'

Ramon looked at him reproachfully. 'Senor Hamilton, you're at it again.'

'At what?'

'Being enigmatic and evasive.'

Hamilton shrugged and said nothing. Serrano said: 'An honest doubt doesn't require an apology.'

'There's a little more to it than that,' Hamilton said. 'I thought you were Hiller's man. Back in Romono, that is, when I first met you. I'm afraid I'm the person who clobbered you. I'll give you back the money I took from your wallet. There's not much I can do about your stiff neck. Forgive me.'

'Forgive, forgive,' Maria said. 'I don't suppose anyone is going to forgive me.'

There was a brief silence, then Hamilton said, mildly enough: 'I have apologised.'

'Apologies and forgiveness are not the same thing and you're clearly of the opinion that my I association — that's the nicest way I can put it — was 'unforgivable. It all depends upon who is doing the judging and casting the first stones. All four of my grandparents died in Auschwitz and the chances are high that it was Von Manteuffel or Spaatz who sent them there. Or both. I suppose the world is tired of hearing about it, but six million Jews did die in