I raced after Hans Richter.
When he got to the doorway of the big station, he turned. Now he held a Mauser Parabellum in one hand and the radio in his other. He aimed the automatic at my head and fired. The shot resounded along the platform, narrowly missing my left temple. A couple of women screamed. A tall elderly man behind me slumped to the ground — the slug had hit him in his shoulder. There were more screams. As Richter turned and ran into the station, I pulled my Luger, aimed, and fired. Just then he changed his course, and I missed him.
There was no time to see where Ursula and the policemen were. I ran into the station after Richter. There were hundreds of people inside and Richter was cunningly moving among them toward the far doorways that led to the street. I jammed Wilhelmina into my pocket and increased my speed. People were standing and staring, and some were trying to get out of our way. Richter knocked a woman down and kept going. I was gaining, though, and before he managed to reach the doors, I caught him with a shoestring tackle.
Richter hit the floor hard, but he did not lose either the gun or the radio. He turned to blow my head off, but I caught his gunhand and pushed it away. The Mauser roared in the big room, and the slug smashed into the high ceiling. There was more screaming and yelling, and a stampede to get away from the action.
We rolled over twice, each trying for control. Our arms were straining for possession of the gun. It fired again, and a window in a front door shattered. I punched a savage fist into Richter’s square face, and his grip weakened on the gun. It fell from his grasp with a quick twist of my arm.
Richter swore, swung his balled-up fist viciously at my head, and connected. I felt the crunching impact beside my ear and I fell backward to the floor. In that instant, Richter was up and reaching for the Mauser.
He retrieved the gun before I could get to him, and when he turned back to me, there was a slight grin on his face. I flicked Hugo down into my palm as he leveled the Mauser at my head. But neither the gun nor the stiletto struck.
“Halten sie! Genug!” It was Ursula.
Richter turned from me and saw Ursula, very grim, pointing the Webley at his back. She was flanked on either side by the two Yugoslav secret policemen in plain clothes. Each man held a stubby revolver aimed at Richter.
“Please put the gun down,” the one on Ursula’s right ordered.
Richter grunted, dropped the Mauser, and glanced back at me. “Damn you,” he said quietly in English.
I walked over to him and yanked the radio from his hand. The Yugoslavs nodded to me and grabbed his arms.
“We will take him to the customs room for a brief interrogation before moving him to headquarters,” the Yugoslav who had spoken before said to Ursula.
I wanted to get that radio out of there. “I must go to the train for a bag,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
The same Yugoslav turned to me. “No, please. The train will be held. Come with us first.”
He did not seem amenable to argument. “All right,” I said as I followed them reluctantly into the room.
It was a rather small room with only a desk and three straight chairs. There was only one window that opened onto the street. It looked stark.
As we stepped into the room, Ursula spoke to the Yugoslav who had insisted I accompany them.
“Oh, his bag!” she exclaimed. “It is on the platform. I will get it.”
“Very well,” the policeman agreed.
Ursula had just disappeared and closed the door behind her when Richter went into action again. The policemen were still holding his arms. The one who had not yet spoken had taken the radio from me, much to my regret, and had placed it on the desk before us. He was now reaching under his jacket for a pair of handcuffs, but Richter suddenly and quite violently broke free from the other Yugoslav, and sent an elbow into his face. The policeman stumbled backwards and fell heavily to the floor while Richter shoved the other one into me. The man stumbled against me, and I had to catch him to keep him from hitting the floor.
Richter was slugging the first officer and reaching for his gun. I went for Wilhelmina while the man who had hit me tried to regain his balance. Then Richter emerged with the snub-nosed revolver, whirled, and fired at me. I dived for the side of the desk, and he missed.
The policeman who had fallen against me now was going for his gun. Richter fired a shot at him and hit him full in the chest. The man was picked up off his feet and shoved backwards from the sudden impact. His eyes reflected the surprise of sudden death as he crashed against a wall and then slid to the floor.
Richter moved quickly around the desk, grabbing the radio on the way, and made a run for the window. I fired quickly from my cover and grazed his shoulder. He whirled and returned fire. Then he saw the other policeman start for him. He fired again, hitting this one in the abdomen, and the policeman fell heavily on the desk top. Richter then turned and dove through the window, shattering the glass in a fusillade of shards. I fired once more after him as he disappeared, but I did not hit him.
Just then Ursula came through the door.
“He broke away from us,” I said. “Come on.” I rushed out the door past curious onlookers and headed across the station to the front doorways. Ursula was right behind me.
When I reached the end of the building, I saw that Richter was gone. I saw a black car, moving quickly away from the area, a block down the street, but there was no way of knowing whether it was Richter.
“The next time I see Mr. Richter,” Ursula said grimly, “I’m going to put a bullet in his head and ask questions later.”
At that moment, the only thing I could think of was the radio that Richter had grabbed as he had escaped. I’d had the monitor in my possession momentarily, but now it was lost to me again. Maybe for good.
Then I remembered Eva.
Nine
“We’re after the same man,” I said to Ursula.
She looked at me quizzically as I hurried with her back to the station entrance. “What do you mean, Nick?”
“There isn’t much time to explain now. Richter is involved in big-time theft, and he has stolen something very valuable to my government in order to sell it to the Communists. That’s why he was on the Orient Express.”
I could hear the sound of European police sirens as we rushed through the station. There was a crowd around the room where the police had tried to detain Richter. Outside, the Orient Express was getting ready to pull out.
“I’m going to leave you here, Ursula. Tell the police nothing of my involvement if you can avoid it. Check in at the Majestic Hotel at Obilicev Venac 28, and I’ll meet you there later. Meanwhile, check the hotels and try to locate Richter. If you do find him, don’t try to take him, wait for me.”
“When will I see you again?” she asked. “Where are you going now, Nick?”
“There’s somebody on that train who might be able to tell us where to find Richter,” I said. “So I’m going back aboard. I hope to get back to you later today or early tomorrow.”
She smiled. “I am glad our work will keep us together for a while,” she said. “Good luck until I see you.”
“Same to you,” I said.
I reached the platform just as the train was pulling away, and hopped aboard. Blonde and lovely Ursula waved from the doorway, and then she turned to greet the uniformed Yugoslav police.
In just moments the train had cleared the station, and was gliding back out into the Yugoslav countryside. While in Belgrade, the train had taken on a dining car, which was now the last car on the train, behind the sleepers. That made one more place where I would have to look for Eva Schmidt, and it was where I found her. She had just ordered breakfast when I approached her table.