Seibert put on his coat and hat and wound a scarf around his neck, but no sooner had he opened the door of his apartment than Nina came rushing in, accompanied by Kitty and another girl wearing a coat decorated with squirrels.
“Henrich, we’re going to rescue Klim!” declared Nina, grabbing the keys to his Mercedes from the shelf.
“You leave those keys alone!” shouted Seibert, but Nina took no notice.
“Tata, you girls sit here. Henrich and I are going to find Uncle Klim. Don’t open the door to anyone!”
The unknown girl nodded. Nina pushed Seibert out of the apartment.
“Klim’s here in Germany!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “He’s been kidnapped by a bunch of thugs, and they took him to Hamburg.”
“What thugs? What are you talking about?”
Nina took Seibert by the hand and pulled him down the stairs with surprising strength.
“I met the girls at the station,” she said. “They told me everything. There’s huge traffic in the city because of the political demonstration, and we might be able to catch the kidnappers on their way to Hamburg. They’re traveling in a van that’s easy to spot: it’s yellow with a picture of a pike fish on it.”
“Give me back the car keys!” yelled Seibert.
Nina wheeled around and eyed him furiously. “I’m going no matter what—with you or without you. If I smash up your car, I don’t care. You won’t stop me!”
She ran downstairs, and Seibert ran after her, quite beside himself. This crazy woman would be the end of his glorious Mercedes!
The little white Mercedes sped along the highway, past trucks, cumbersome family cars, and farmers’ traps.
Seibert sat at the wheel, alternately lamenting and shouting at Nina in German. She paid no attention to him but kept a sharp lookout at every car they passed.
Nina had no plan in her head and no idea how to rescue Klim. Tata had told her that they had been abducted at the airport and that a man called Yefim had hit Klim over the head and knocked him out.
The abduction must have been arranged by Oscar Reich—Nina was sure of it. He had an office and some warehouses in Hamburg, and he was probably planning to hide Klim there. How on earth could she find him? Could she appeal to the police to help? But while the officials spent their time gathering statements and writing out arrest warrants, Klim would either be killed or taken to the harbor and put on a Soviet ship—beyond the reach of any police.
“Faster! Faster!” Nina pleaded, grabbing Seibert by the elbow.
He gave her a dirty look. “What’s your problem? Do you want to end up in a ditch? Like that lot?” He pointed to a yellow van which had come off the road into a field. It had a picture of a pike on the side.
“Stop!” cried Nina.
The brakes squealed, and the Mercedes came to a halt at the side of the road.
“It’s them!” said Nina, trembling all over. “Please, Henrich, go up to them and ask what happened.”
“Go yourself!” snapped Seibert. “I don’t want to get mixed up with a bunch of gangsters.”
“I can’t! Yefim will recognize me. He knows me!”
“For God’s sake! This is the last thing I need!” Seibert groaned, but still, he got out of the Mercedes and set off toward the yellow van.
Nina covered her face with her hands. Please let Klim still be alive, she prayed. Only let him be alive!
The next few minutes seemed to go on for hours. At last, Seibert returned.
“A fine bunch of gangsters!” he snapped. “They barely speak German, and they can’t drive either.”
“What about Klim?” Nina interrupted him. “Is he with them?”
“I don’t know. I expect he’s with them, but I didn’t see what was going on in the back of the van.”
Seibert put his hands on his hips and looked sternly at Nina. “These Russians are asking me to tow them to Oscar Reich’s office. They don’t know where it is as they’ve never been there before. So, I think I’ll take you all to the nearest police station. After that, I want you to get out of my car, and I never want to see you again.”
“But if Yefim realizes you’ve tricked him, he might kill Klim!”
“What do you suggest? That I start a fight with them? You should be grateful I’m helping you at all.”
“Sorry, I am grateful. Thank you,” said Nina in a shaky voice.
Seibert tied the two cars together with a tow rope and got in behind the wheel.
“Henrich, do you know Hamburg well?” asked Nina.
“I suppose so,” muttered Seibert. “What’s it to you?”
“I think it might be a better idea not to go to the police.”
“Aha, he’s waking up,” Sergei nudged Klim with his boot.
Klim raised his head, which was splitting with pain. “Where are the girls?”
Sergei and Yefim glanced at one another. “They’re in a safe place.”
They lifted Klim back onto the seat. He felt the wound at the back of his head. His hair was matted with congealed blood, and a large lump had swelled beneath the skin.
Everything was swimming before his eyes, and his thoughts were in disarray. He did not register at first that the engine was no longer running and that they were swinging too far from side to side. Up ahead, he could see an elegant white convertible with a raised leather top. Apparently, they were being towed by this car.
Klim was entirely at sea. Where were they? Where were they going?
A dreary succession of concrete walls and industrial buildings was passing by the window.
Oh, God, he thought. Now they were going to take him to some deserted factory and torture him until he gave them Nina’s address.
Presently, the industrial landscape gave way to ancient buildings with turrets, weather-vanes, and red roof tiles.
The car up ahead crossed a bridge and stopped before an elegant light gray building ornamented with bas-reliefs and sculptures.
Sergei stuck his head out of the window. “What is this? Is this Oscar’s office?”
“Look up there. It’s on the sign: ‘Reichs,’” said the driver, pointing to the huge sign under the roof.
Yefim wrapped the hand holding the gun inside his coat and put a hat on Klim’s head to conceal the wound.
“Out you get,” he ordered. “Take one step to the side, and you’ll get a bullet in your back. Understand?”
Klim clambered painfully out of the car and looked around him. The doors of the building were wide open, and richly dressed visitors in coats with fur collars were walking in and out. A black, red, and yellow flag fluttered against the blue sky, and beneath, in a semicircular panel, was a coat of arms with the word “Reichs” on one side and “Bank” on another.
This building has nothing to do with Oscar Reich, thought Klim. It was a branch of the state bank of Germany!
“Keep moving,” said Sergei.
They walked past the white car. Inside sat a woman with a hat pulled low over her eyes and—good god—Seibert!
“Danke!” said Serge and Yefim, waving to them.
In answer, Seibert gave a tortured smile.
They entered the ornate lobby, furnished with mosaic-covered columns and octagonal light-fittings with elaborately ornamented frames. Bank clerks hurried to and fro, carrying files.
“I think we’ve come to the wrong place,” muttered Yefim, bewildered.
Just then, there was the sound of footsteps behind them. Klim looked around and saw Nina and Seibert.
“Hands up! This is a robbery!” Seibert cried in a shrill voice.
Klim shoved Yefim and dived to the floor. A shot rang out, and the next minute, sirens wailed, women screamed, and all the exits were swiftly closed off with steel shutters.