“The ambulance was from Dr. Kruger’s private clinic at Blankenese,” Schmidt said. He lifted his hands pleadingly. “For God’s sake, mein Herr, you mustn’t let Steiner know you found these things out from me. He’s a terrible man. He was a group leader in the SS.”
“Then why did you help him?” Hardt said.
“But I had no choice,” Schmidt said. “You do not know how powerful these people are.”
At that moment, a step sounded outside on the landing and there was a knock at the door. Chavasse jerked Schmidt to his feet and pulled him close. “Find out who it is,” he whispered, “and don’t try anything funny.”
Schmidt walked hesitantly toward the door and said in a cracked voice, “Who is it?”
“Inspector Steiner!” The words came clearly through the thin paneling, and Schmidt turned toward the two men inside. “What shall I do?”
Chavasse looked inquiringly at Hardt. “Are you armed?”
Hardt shook his head. “No, but Steiner will be.”
Chavasse nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. What a wonderful opportunity for him to get rid of both of us and prove himself a hero at the same time. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
He walked across to the window, brushing aside the panic-stricken Schmidt, who clutched at his sleeve, and opened it. A little to one side, a thick iron drainpipe dropped forty feet to the cobbles of the yard at the rear of the building. Three feet beyond it, there was an iron fire escape.
As Hardt moved beside him, Steiner hammered on the door and said angrily, “Schmidt, open up.”
Schmidt plucked at Chavasse’s arm. “He’ll kill me.”
Chavasse ignored him and nodded toward the fire escape. “I’d say it’s our best way down.” Without waiting for Hardt to agree, he climbed out onto the windowsill. He reached out for the drainpipe, skinning his knuckles on the rough brickwork as he slid his hands round it. For a moment, he paused, and then he launched himself to one side, his left hand grabbing for the iron railing of the fire escape. A moment later and he was safe on the platform.
Hardt emerged onto the windowsill. He successfully negotiated the drainpipe and jumped for the fire escape. Chavasse reached out and caught him by the arm as his foot slipped. A moment later and Hardt stood safely beside him on the platform.
Schmidt leaned out of the window, a look of terror on his face. “Help me, I implore you. He’s breaking in the door.”
Chavasse was already clattering down the iron steps of the fire escape and Hardt followed him. As they started across the cobbled yard to the alley that gave access to the front of the house, there was a sudden cry from above and they both paused and looked up.
Schmidt was hanging onto the drainpipe, obviously too terrified to make a move. At that moment, Steiner leaned out of the window and reached toward him. With a courage born of desperation, Schmidt jumped for the fire escape, his hand clawing the air.
His fingers seemed to find a hold and for a moment he hung there, and then he slipped and fell, his body twisting in midair so that he hit the cobbles headfirst.
Hardt gave a cry of horror and started forward, but Chavasse grabbed him by the arm and hustled him through the alley and out into the street. “We’ve got to think about the living,” he said. “If we don’t get away from here fast, Steiner will have half the Hamburg police force breathing down our necks.”
When they were safe in the Volkswagen and moving away through the deserted back streets of the city, Chavasse laughed shakily. “It was a pretty close thing back there. For a moment or two, I thought we weren’t going to make it.”
Hardt glanced across at him, his face white and strained. “The sound that poor devil’s head made when it hit the cobbles – I don’t think I’m ever likely to forget it.” He shuddered and turned his attention to the road.
“Steiner probably intended to get rid of him one way or another at some time in the future,” Chavasse said. “He knew too much.”
Hardt nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
It had stopped raining as they slowed to a halt outside Anna’s apartment house, and Hardt switched off the engine. In the silence that followed, he sat smoking a cigarette and nervously tapping his fingers against the rim of the steering wheel.
After a while, Chavasse said, “Well, what’s our next move?”
Hardt frowned and said slowly, “A visit to this clinic of Kruger’s at Blankenese, I suppose.”
“And when do you suggest we make it?”
“Tonight after dark, I think. I’ll see what I can find out about the place during the day.”
He opened the door and got out, and Chavasse slid across the seat and followed him. They walked to the door of the apartment house and Hardt paused outside.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Chavasse asked in surprise.
Hardt shook his head. “No, I’ll get back to my place. I could do with a few hours’ sleep. I’m afraid I can’t take you with me, but you’ll be all right here. Anna will make up a bed for you on the couch.”
“Aren’t you going to take the car?” Chavasse said.
Hardt shook his head. “I feel like the walk – it isn’t far.”
He started to move away, and then hesitated and turned slowly. Dawn was just beginning to break, and in its gray light he looked sickly and unwell.
“I didn’t lose my nerve back there,” he said.
“I know that,” Chavasse told him.
“It was just that ghastly sound when his head hit the cobbles. I’ve seen men die, I’ve killed several myself, but I’ve never heard anything quite like that.”
“Go home to bed.”
For a moment longer, Hardt stared fixedly at him, and then he walked slowly away along the wet pavement. Chavasse watched him for a little while, and then he turned in through the entrance to the apartment house and went quickly upstairs.
At his first light knock, Anna opened the door and let him in. As he peeled off his raincoat, she said anxiously, “Where’s Mark?”
“Gone back to his hotel,” Chavasse told her. “He’ll be getting in touch later in the day after he’s checked on Kruger’s clinic at Blankenese. We’ll be paying it a visit tonight after dark.”
She went into the kitchen and returned almost at once with a fresh pot of coffee. As she filled two cups, she said, “What happened – did you see Schmidt?”
He drank his coffee, sitting beside her on the couch, and told her. When he finished, she shuddered. “That poor man – what a horrible way to die.”
“He couldn’t have known much about it,” Chavasse said. “He must have been killed instantly.”
“At least we now know who we’re working against,” she said.
He nodded. “According to Schmidt, Steiner was a group leader in the SS. Kruger was probably a camp doctor or something of the sort.”
“Do you think they’ll be mentioned in Bormann’s memoirs?”
He shook his head. “I shouldn’t think so. My hunch is that they’re both simply active members of the Nazi underground. The people they take their orders from probably figure in Bormann’s book.”
“And you think they’ll have Muller at this clinic in Blankenese?”
“Let’s hope so.” He put down his coffee cup and got to his feet. “And now, if I can have the use of your couch?”
She went into the bedroom and came back carrying several blankets and a pillow. As he watched, she quickly made a bed for him. She turned with a smile. “I think you’ll find it’s pretty comfortable and I can promise you won’t be disturbed. I could sleep for a week myself.”
Suddenly, she seemed very close and he felt tired – really tired. “You’re very sweet, Anna,” he said.
She raised a hand and touched his cheek, and he bent his head quickly and kissed her on the mouth. For a moment, she responded, but as soon as she felt his hands on her waist, she pulled away and rushed across to her bedroom.