“Well, it appears that you finally have me,” he said to Ursula in a sarcastic tone. “Wie schade für mich.” Too bad for him — his sarcasm heavier than ever.
“It looks as if we’ve made ourselves an arrest earlier than you had wanted,” I said to Ursula, not taking my eyes off Richter.
“We will take him to my compartment. I will guard him all night so that he does not break free,” Ursula said.
Richter grunted a small laugh.
“All right,” I said. I did not like having this man on our hands until morning, particularly while I was worrying about Eva Schmidt and Blücher, but there was no other choice. “Move, Richter.” I waved the Luger toward the platform door.
He still had the knife in his hand, and I reached out to take it from him as he passed me. He gave it to me without trouble, but then as I threw it overboard, taking my eyes from him for just a split-second, he jammed a hand at my right wrist and pushed the Luger away from him.
We slammed up against the bulkhead together, Richter twisting to grab at the gun. At one point I might have taken the chance of firing at him, but Ursula was standing in the line of fire behind him.
I turned with Richter, as I spun him in a small circle until his back slammed up against the rear of the train. Ursula was no longer behind him. I was fighting to turn the Luger in toward him. I no longer cared if I killed Richter or not, but I would try instead to wound him. Grunting and sweating, I forced the muzzle of the automatic toward his body. He squeezed my hand, and a shot was fired from the Luger. The slug hit the bulkhead and ricocheted into the night.
Ursula had just gotten her Webley out, but I was between her and Richter, and she could not use it against him. In a sudden vicious and desperate thrust, Richter threw me away from him. I fell against Ursula momentarily, knocking the Webley from her grasp. Then Richter started through the door. It closed behind him as I fired another shot from the Luger. The slug shattered glass and hit him as he moved around the corner toward the corridor. The impact of the slug slammed him against the wall. But he was still on his feet. Then he disappeared from view.
“Damn!” I shouted. “Are you all right?”
Ursula was retrieving her Webley. “I’m okay, Nick,” she said, but I could see she was shaken.
I grabbed at the door, pulled it open, and entered the sleeping car. As I rounded the corner of the corridor with the Luger still in hand, I saw Richter about halfway down, running toward the other end. I leveled the Luger at him but then I thought better of it. Most of the passengers were in bed in their compartments now, and a shot would be sure to wake them up.
I dropped the Luger and watched Richter disappear through the other end of the car. Ursula was now beside me.
“Sorry,” I said to her.
“Don’t worry, Nick. He is still on the train. Next time, he won’t be so lucky. We’ll make sure of that. Shall we look for him?”
“Let’s.”
We went to Richter’s compartment, but he wasn’t there. Then we searched the rest of the train. He was nowhere in sight. He had evidently found a place to hide. It looked as if we would have to count on Ursula’s being able to grab him at Belgrade in the morning. I insisted that Ursula go to her compartment for a short rest. She needed it badly. I drifted back toward Voiture 5, hoping to make contact with the Schmidt woman.
When I arrived at Voiture 5, I had a big surprise awaiting.
I had just started into the corridor toward Eva’s compartment when her door opened and Hans Richter appeared.
I ducked around the corner and watched. He was shrugging into his jacket and there was a bandage on his arm. He looked around furtively and then headed away from me, toward the day coaches.
From all appearances, the ex-Nazi had hidden in the Schmidt woman’s compartment while we were looking for him. He’d also acquired a bandage, which meant Eva must have helped him.
“Richter!” I yelled, stepping out of concealment.
He broke into a run. I sprinted after him as he yanked open the door and left the car.
I reached the end of the corridor and tugged at the door and followed him.
That was when I met the cheerful man again.
He was on the platform between the cars. He must have been waiting for Richter. He had heard me yell, had seen Richter running, and he was ready for me when I burst through the door.
Wielding a sap like the one Richter had used earlier, Mr. Cheerful slugged me. I caught a glimpse of his face in the light from the car behind us just before the blow landed.
My knees sagged. The man using the sap knew how to hit and exactly where the blow should land to put a victim down for the count. I woke up huddled on the platform, a conductor shaking me and asking what had happened.
“A man struck me.”
“A would-be thief, perhaps. I saw a man leaning over you as I came through the door. He fled into the next car. If you can describe him...”
“I didn’t even see his face,” I lied.
Richter and his chum had escaped again, but I considered myself lucky. If the conductor hadn’t appeared, Mr. Cheerful would probably have left me in worse shape than unconscious.
I assured the conductor I was in condition to walk. When I was able to break away from him, I returned to Eva Schmidt’s compartment.
“Who is it?” she called out in reply to my knock.
I changed my voice and spoke in French. “Porter, madame.”
There was a pause. Then a lock clicked. The door opened a crack. I jammed my foot in the opening and stuck the Luger into Eva’s surprised face.
“How about that deal we had?” I said in a rough voice.
“I contacted Horst. But I haven’t had time to get back in touch with you.”
Shoving the door shut, I said, “You’re lying — you set the Russian on me.”
The woman avoided my eyes. “If he caused you trouble, it was his idea. I only told him that you were in on the bidding for the device.”
“Beautiful. When you told him that, you knew damn well what he’d do.”
“You can’t expect me to worry about your safety. Not after the way you roughed me up.”
I held onto my temper. “What is your connection with Hans Richter?”
Her gaze whipped back to me. “Hans Richter and I have no connection.”
“I saw him leave your compartment. He had a gunshot wound and he came to you for help. You bandaged his arm.”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “I admit that it’s true. But we still have no connection, except that I know West German agents are looking for him. I don’t consider that my business. Let them capture their own ex-Nazis.”
“Why should he come to you?”
“A few years ago, we knew each other well. I recognized him when I saw him again. I made the mistake of giving him my compartment number, never dreaming he’d get into trouble aboard the train.” She smiled slightly. “Now, don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean when I say I used to know him well.”
“Let me tell you about a thought that has just occurred to me, Eva. Maybe Hans Richter is the boss of Topcon. Maybe he’s the man you call Horst Blücher.”
“Horst does not run around getting shot. He is much too clever for that.”
“Then where is he and why doesn’t he show himself?” I asked. “What is his reply to my request for a meeting?”
She slid an American cigarette out of a package and lighted it. “Horst says he will consider you a legitimate bidder for the device. But he will only deal with you on this train, and the deal must be made before we reach Sofia. You will make your offer through me.”
“Like hell I will,” I said. “I’m ready to make my offer for the monitor. But I’m making it only to the boss of Topcon.”
She sighed heavily. “He will not like this, but I will deliver the message. I’ll set up the meeting and bring word to your compartment.”