By degrees, as these thoughts ran away with him, Mabuse fell asleep, his limbs reclining on the cushions and his fantasies soaring above all material things. For two long hours he slept, sunk in the darkness of his dreams.
Then it seemed as if a little hammer were striking his skull, always on the same spot. It was annoying, and it was unheard of. He had only two hours between Buchloe and Röthenbach in which to sleep. Who had dared to strike his head with this hammer?
All at once he was wide awake. The hammer was the whistle of the speaking-tube.
“Well?” called out Mabuse.
“There is a car behind us.”
“What are its marks?”
“There is a grey patch on the right lamp.”
“What is the time?”
“Half-past one.”
“And where are we?”
“Two kilometres from Röthenbach.”
“Pull up! It is Spoerri.”
The car stopped, and immediately its lights went out, and so did those of the car which followed. Then it drove close up and stopped. There was a cough heard.
“Come here!” said Mabuse.
Someone came out of the darkness. Mabuse had drawn the revolver from his coat-pocket. The car-driver turned on a small electric lamp, and its gleam disclosed a man wrapped in a large cloak.
“Spoerri?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
The pistol was returned to its place.
“Spoerri, wait here a quarter of an hour, or else drive to Schachen by another route. You must arrive shortly after me, between half-past one and two o’clock. I have decided on some great changes that I want to tell you of before we go to Switzerland. Anything else?”
“Everything is in order. I have another hundred kilos of cerium in the car.”
“Good. Between half-past one and two o’clock!”
They drove on. As their road approached the Austrian frontier, which was patrolled by officials, their lights were extinguished for a while, but in Schlachters they shone out again, and the village was soon left behind them.
Halfway to Lindau, where forest and hill meet, they stopped again.
“Anybody there?”
“No, Doctor.”
“Not Pesch?”
“I don’t see anybody.”
Mabuse quitted the car impatiently.
“I will punish him for this. I will have my people punctual!”
He waited on, and the minutes crept by. Mabuse slapped his thigh angrily. To keep him waiting! That a smuggler should dare to do such a thing! He was consumed with impatience, and felt as if his dignity were impeached. That a smuggler should keep him, the master, waiting!
Five minutes later a car, with faint lights, issued from the junction road and stopped on the highway.
“Pesch!” exclaimed Mabuse.
A man turned from the open car.
“Yes, Doctor, here I am. It is Pesch.”
“It is 1:45 a.m., and you were due at 1:35.”
“Oh, a matter of ten minutes doesn’t count. I’ve had to wait often enough!” answered the voice in the darkness in a defiant tone.
“If I had a horsewhip here I’d cudgel you soundly. Ten minutes mean fifteen kilometres advance upon a pursuer, you fool! You are earning two thousand marks from me tonight.”
The other answered boldly, “And with my help you are earning twenty thousand!”
“Five hundred thousand more likely, you blockhead,” said Mabuse; “but that’s nothing to do with you. The only question here is who is master and who servant.”
“You are not my master,” said the other.
“I am not? … you say so, do you?” he thundered. “Very well, you can get along home. I don’t want you any more—never any more!”
He turned to his car and got in; then said hastily in a threatening tone, “If you feel inclined to send any anonymous information to the authorities, you’ll remember that there is a fir-tree growing in the wood, and there’s room for you to hang there like your colleague Haim. Drive on, George!”
The car started off again.
In the neighbourhood of Schachen, where stately houses with upper stories made cars appear less striking, they found a park gate open, and without any difficulty George found his way along the dark drive leading to the villa. The lights were extinguished.
While Mabuse and George were still standing on the doorstep Spoerri arrived.
When Mabuse opened the door and turned on the light, he saw that Spoerri was dressed as a monk.
“It is a mere accident,” said Spoerri. “I had to go to Switzerland in a hurry, and down there in the Rhine valley a cowl is more useful than even a genuine frontier pass. The last pass I had is in St. Gallen, and you know that I had to leave there hastily. But I had left the list of securities with Schaffer, and he brought them to me at Altstetten today. It is not safe to send such things by post nowadays.”
When he said this they were sitting in a large, well-furnished dining-room. George served the supper, brought ready prepared from Munich, and warmed up on the electric stove. Still eating, Mabuse said:
“We will liquidate on the lake itself, and thus we shall gain five points more than on land, according to the lists. I have bought five million Italian five-lire pieces. They are coming to the Southern Tyrol, and must be taken to Switzerland by way of the Vorarlberg. You must look after that, Spoerri. The Italian agent is Dalbelli, in Meran. You must go there tomorrow. I give you a month to do it in, and then we shall start a fresh district. Switzerland is now strongly against the importation of silver, and so there is less competition. We shall get enough of the five-lire pieces in Italy, and I have tried to do it with French silver too, but since the Treaty of Versailles there are so many fresh business combines in France, and they give nobody anything because the majority of them have not been in trade before. Have you not noticed that?”
Spoerri nodded, making some inward calculation.
“Stop your calculations till I have done talking,” said Mabuse sharply, and Spoerri looked up in confusion.
Mabuse continued: “My confidential agent in the Government has informed me that meat-control will be abolished in Bavaria next month, but the matter will be kept dark. The difference in the prices
