'Akers-styckebruk! The place isn't even on the map. Have you reported to Ogilvie?' 'No. I was just going to when you called me.' 'Then I suppose I have to.' I went into the station and rang Stockholm, and Ogilvie said testily, 'What the devil's going on? I've just had a call from Gregory in some Godforsaken place. He's either broken or sprained his ankle and he's lost Ashton. He thinks they've gone to somewhere called Strangnas.' Strangnas was back along the road; we'd skirted around the edges. I said, 'We'll be there in an hour.' 'An hour may be too late,' he snapped. 'But get on with it.' I ran back to the car.
'Get weaving, Larry-back where we came from.' He moved over into the driving seat and I hadn't closed the door before he took off. I twisted around and said to Henty, 'What can you tell me about Strangnas? Anything there we ought to know about?' He snapped his fingers. 'Of course! There's a spur-line going into Strangnas from Akers-styckebruk-no passenger trains, just the occasional raslbuss.'
'What's that?' 'A single coach on the railway-diesel driven.' 'You say it's a spur-line. You mean the rail stops at Strangnas?' 'It has to, or it would run into Lake Malaren.' I contemplated that. 'So it's a dead end.' 'For the railway, but not for cars. There's a road which goes by way of the islands to the north shore of Malaren. But it's late; I wouldn't bet they'll be able to hire a car at this time of night.' 'True,' I said. 'But step on it, Larry.' I watched the road unwinding out of the darkness against the hypnotic beat of the wipers as they cleared snow from the windscreen. The headlights brightened as Larry operated the light wipers. 'Anything else about Strangnas?'
'It's not much of a place,' said H enty. 'Population about twelve thousand; a bit of light industry-Pharmaceuticals, penicillin, X-ray film-stuff like that. It's also a garrison town for a training regiment, and it's HQ, East Military Command.' His interest sharpened.
'Is Ashton connected with the soldier boys?' 'No,' I said. Henty persisted. 'You'd tell me if he is? That's my line of country, and I've helped you enough.' 'Definitely not,' I said. 'His interests aren't military, and neither are mine. We're not poaching on your patch.' 'Just as long as I know.' He seemed satisfied. We didn't bother going back all the way to Akers-styckebruk; finding Ashton was more important than finding the state of Gregory's ankle. We came to the outskirts of Strangnas and coasted gently through snow-covered streets towards the lake edge and the centre of town. A few turns around the town centre proved one thing-there was only one hotel-so we pulled up on the other side of the street from the Hotel Rogge and I seat Henty in to find out the form. He was away about five minutes and when he came back he said, 'They're both there-booked under the names of Ashton and Williams.' 'So he's reverted,' I said. 'Using his own passport. Koslov has suddenly become too hot.' 'I booked in for the three of us.' 'No; you stay, but Larry and I are going to find Gregory. I'll ring Ogilvie now and ask him to retrieve Brent and Michaelis from wherever the hell they are now-they can have the other two beds here. We'll be back at six tomorrow morning and I want a concentration inside and outside the hotel. Where are Ashton and Benson now?' 'Not in any of the public rooms,' said Henty. 'I'd say they're in bed.' 'Yes, they're getting pretty old for this sort of thing,' I said pensively. 'Come to think of it, so am I!'
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Gregory had sensibly waited at the railway station at Akers-styckebruk for someone to pick him up. He said he was stiff, cold, tired, and that his ankle hurt like hell, so we all booked into a hotel. At five next morning Larry and I were on our way back to Strangnas, but Gregory was able to sleep in because I decided to send him back to Stockholm. He'd be no good to us because his ankle really was bad, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that, because of him, we'd pinned down Ashton and Benson. Just before six I parked the car around the corner from the Hotel Rogge, and at six on the button I went on the air. 'Hello,' I said brightly. 'Any Bluebirds awake?' Henty said disgruntedly into my ear, 'Don't be so bloody cheerful.' 'Did the other two arrive?' 'Yes; at two this morning.
They're still asleep.' 'And Redbird and his friend?' 'They're definitely here-I made sure of that-they're asleep, too.' He paused.
'And I wish to Christ I was.' 'Come out here. We're just around the corner on-' I craned my neck to find a street sign-'on Kallgatan.' He said nothing but the transmission hum stopped so I switched off. He did not appear for a quarter of an hour so Larry and I made small talk. There was nothing much to say because we'd talked the subject to death already. When Henty did arrive he was newly shaven and looked in reasonably good shape even though his manner was still a little shaggy. 'Morning,' he said shortly, as he got into the car. I passed a vacuum flask over my shoulder. 'Be gruntled.' He unscrewed the top and sniffed appreciatively. 'Ah, scotch coffee!' He poured a cupful and was silent for a moment before he said, 'That's better. What's the drill?' 'What time is breakfast?' 'I don't know. Say, from seven o'clock-maybe seven-thirty. These country hotels all differ.' 'I want the three of you in the breakfast room as soon as it opens; you at one table, Michaelis and Brent at another. They are to talk to each other and one of them has to give a running commentary over the air about Ashton and Benson as soon as they come in to breakfast. I want to know exactly how Ashton is acting-and reacting.' 'We can do that,' said Henty. 'But I don't get the reason.' I said, 'Halfway through breakfast I'm going to send Larry in to do a replay of his Russian act.' 'Jesus! You'll give Ashton a heart attack.' 'We've got to keep the pressure on,' I said. 'I don't want to give them time to hire a car, and I want to herd them out of town pretty early. Where's the closed van Michaelis has been driving?' Henty pointed across the darkened street. 'In the hotel car park.' 'Good enough. I want him inside it and ready to go as soon as Ashton moves. I want this whole bloody thing cleaned up before eight o'clock if possible. Now you can go in and wake the sleeping beauties.' When Henty had gone Larry regarded me curiously. 'I know you've been keeping out of sight,' he said. 'But if what you're doing ever comes out you're not going to be popular with the Ashton family.' 'I know,' I said shortly. 'But this is the way Ogilvie wants it done. And I'm making bloody sure I do stay out of sight, not for Ogilvie's reasons but my own.' Christ! I thought. If Penny ever got to know about this she'd never forgive me in a thousand years. The time passed and we shared the flask of scotch coffee between us. Strangnas began to wake up and there was movement in the streets, and we occasioned a couple of curious glances from passers-by. I suppose it was strange for a couple of men to be sitting in a parked car so early in the morning so I told Larry to drive into the hotel car park which was more secluded. The hotel breakfast started at seven-thirty. I knew that because Jack Brent came on the air with a description of the breakfast he was eating. He described the herring and the boiled eggs and the cheese and the coffee and all the trimmings until I began to salivate. He was doing it deliberately, the bastard. Because I made no response he tired of the game and switched off, but at seven-fifty he said, 'They're here now-Ashton and Benson. Just sitting down two tables away. Benson looks dour but Ashton seems cheerful enough.' No one would know Brent was broadcasting; apparently he would be chatting animatedly to Michaelis, but every word was picked up by the throat microphone concealed beneath the knot of his tie. The throat microphone gave a peculiarly dead quality to the broadcast; there was no background noise-no clatter of cutlery or coffee cups to be heard-just Brent's voice and the rasp of his breathing greatly magnified. Even if he spoke in a whisper every word would come across clearly. I listened to his description and felt increasingly uneasy. Not about Ashton who, according to Brent, seemed fairly relaxed; I was uneasy about myself and my role in this charade. I would have given a lot to be able to walk into the Hotel Rogge, sit down at Ashton's table, and have a down-to-earth chat with him. I was convinced I could get him back to England just by talking to him, but Ogilvie wouldn't have that. He didn't want our cover blown. I was depressed when I turned to Larry, and said quietly, 'All right. Go in and have your breakfast.' He got out of the car and walked into the hotel. Brent said, 'Ashton's just poured himself another cup of coffee. He hasn't lost his appetite, that's for certain. Ho ho! Larry Godwin has just walked in. Ashton hasn't seen him yet, nor has Benson. Larry's talking to the waitress by the door. God, how he's mangling his Swedish-can hear him from here. So can Ashton. He's turned and he's looking at Larry. I can't see his face. He's turned back again and now he's nudging Benson. He's as white as a sheet. The waitress is coming forward with Larry now-showing him to a table. Larry is passing Ashton's table-he turns and speaks to him. Ashton has knocked over his coffee cup. Benson is looking bloody grim; if ever I saw a man capable of murder it's Benson right now. He's no oil painting at the best of times but you should see him now. Ashton wants to get up and leave, but Benson is holding him back.' I switched channels on my transmitter and Brent's voice abruptly stopped. I said, 'Henty, finish your breakfast and leave.