Then suddenly a little silver-toned bell rang gently somewhere and they moved to the great door. The guard came to life, stepped aside, and swung half of the door open. They went out and the guard followed them. The door closed and I had the place to myself. My eyes popped again as below me the great catafalque began slowly to sink into the ground. It went down as though on a lift. When it was below the level of the marble dais, a sheet of black marble slid noiselessly across the hole, and no one would have suspected that there was anything below it. Coinciding with the movement of the marble slab back into place, all the lights went out. Somewhere there was a good stage manager who knew his stuff.
I found Katerina early the next morning. Her room was on the left, just before the turn and steps down to the length of passageway which held the ornamental grille above the hall.
On the way to it I passed five or six ventilators that gave on to empty rooms. It was much easier going with the daylight let into the passageway from them.
I picked out Katerina’s room – which was much like Lottie’s – because I could hear her singing to herself. The sound was coming through a half-open door on the far side of the bedroom, from the noise of running water clearly a bathroom.
She came out after a few seconds, wearing a loose green silk dressing-gown. She sat down on the edge of the bed and began to roll on a pair of stockings. Watching her in those few seconds, I knew that there was nothing I wanted from the world except her....
I swallowed the lump in my throat and rapped gently on the ventilator grille. She looked up. I rapped again and called quietly, “Katerina....”
She looked towards the bedroom door and then back at the grille. I had to admire the coolness and the quick thinking. There wasn’t a loose or sloppy reaction in her. She’d recognized my voice just from the one word.
I said gently, “Katerina.... Over here.”
She got up from the bed and went to the door and locked it. You’d have thought that voices coming from ventilators were part of her daily routine.
She came back and stood where I could see her. As she looked up she was smiling, violet eyes wide, a delicious wrinkle line below the soft curve of her blonde hair.
“Darling.... Are you a ghost?”
I said, “If I could get in there you’d know I wasn’t.”
She shook her head. “You are mad to be in this place.”
“Okay, but I’m here.”
She put her finger tips to her lips and blew me a kiss. “Darling, I love you. You do such crazy things for me. Why?”
“I’ll show you later. Listen to me now and—”
“Oh!” She put her hand to her mouth suddenly. “You watch me for long? You have seen me go to the bathroom without clothes?”
“Unfortunately, no. Now listen. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
“But why? I like it here.”
“That’s because you don’t know what’s lined up for you or Lottie Bemans. One of you is going to be murdered.”
“Murdered!”
I had her serious and listening then. Keeping my voice down I explained about the apartment and the key that was on the outside of the door. She had to get up there so that we could make our plans for a get-away.
“Don’t say anything to Lottie yet. Do you think you can find the apartment?”
“I think so. I’ll try.” Her voice was shaky.
“Tonight. The moment it’s dark.”
She nodded, and then said, “You are sure about this? About this bad thing?”
“Absolutely and—”
I broke off as there came a couple of knocks on her door.
“Katerina!” It was a girl’s voice.
Katerina looked up and motioned me to go. She blew another kiss.
The voice outside the door called, “Katerina.... Schläfst du?”
Katerina moved towards the door. As I drew back, I heard her call, “Nein, ich schlafe nicht, Lottie. Ich komme.”
I had enough German to cover that lot, and Lottie calling again, “Das Frühstück ist fertig.”
I went back to my own Frühstück: pigeons’ eggs, and the last slice of my sausage. Katerina would make it. Between us we would work something out.
That day passed like water wearing away a stone, so slowly that the tension built up in me until I felt like some caged animal. I walked round and round the place, unable to settle for more than a few minutes at a time.
And then, at three o’clock that afternoon, I saw Howard Johnson and Herr Stebelson. I was on the roof with my field-glasses, taking a cautious look around the property. I swung the glasses across the far hillside in the direction of the main gate. There was a movement across an open space high up on the mountain.
Two men had just come out of a line of trees and were climbing, their backs to me. I held them in the glasses. They paused in the middle of the open space and turned, looking back at the Schloss. There was no mistaking Herr Stebelson, and then Howard Johnson turned full face into my field of vision. I slipped behind the edge of the tower wall and watched them through a gap in the parapet. It was a good thing I went into hiding for they both took out field-glasses and sat down, watching the Schloss. They stayed there for about half an hour and then they moved down and back into the trees and I lost sight of them.
Keeping in cover I went to the tower door and below. It was an interesting combination – Stebelson and Howard Johnson. It seemed likely that Stebelson, knowing now that he was not going to get any
