"Get up here fast, Bodel," Beaurain called down.
"You haven't… not already?" Marker began.
"I said get up here, for Christ's sake. The timing is everything."
It was so simple Marker was overwhelmed with a mixture of disbelief and relief. In the darkened confines of the rail wagon he stared at what Beaurain's torch beam showed him. Then he was filled with sheer fury when he remembered that less than three hours earlier he had been ordered not to carry his investigations any further by one of the most powerful figures in the Danish police service.
Beaurain had used a nail file borrowed from Louise to pick the locks of the suitcase. Inside the case, which lay in a narrow defile between walls of the packing material, was a collection of transparent bags containing powder. The case was full, the haul enormous.
"Inside there? As simple as that?"
"As simple as that. I was careful not to break the seals."
The hole had been carefully hollowed out of the second wadge of packing material — just where the rail guard had told Kellerman he would find it. Propped against the wadge was the thick panel of the same material which slotted into grooves and was then held firmly in place with transparent sealing material.
"Simple but effective," Beaurain continued. "The sealing material coincides with the labels designating its alleged destination. We have to take a very quick decision, Bodel, my friend. Only you and I and the two people standing guard outside this wagon yet know we have discovered the consignment."
"Which is on its way to Stockholm apparently. If we let it go through, can your people really watch it closely enough?"
"We'll need help from Harry Fondberg, head of Sapo in Stockholm."
Sapo was the Swedish secret police, a department which operated quite apart from the normal law-enforcement agencies. It was becoming stifling inside the wagon and there was a growing stench of something unpleasant like powerful glue. Beaurain assumed it was resin inside the material.
"Who contacts Fondberg — you or me?" Marker asked simply.
It took Beaurain a moment to grasp the significance of what Marker had said. Then he was carefully closing the suitcase, re-locking it and calling for Louise to come up inside the wagon so he could instruct her.
"I'd better not hear you for the next few minutes," Bodel said. "Then if anything goes wrong you'll know I didn't betray you it has become a way of life you know — betrayal."
"You're actually leaving this enormous haul?" Louise asked when the Intelligence chief had gone. Having closed the case, the Belgian was easing it back inside its secret compartment, prior to replacing the panel and the self-adhering sealer he had taken so much trouble to preserve. "How do you know you can trust Marker?" she whispered.
"I don't — we have to gamble."
"He kept those policemen from the patrol-car away — perhaps it was to protect the consignment."
"So we don't tell him everything we plan. Now, relay all these instructions to Henderson as soon as you can." As he spoke he was continuing the delicate task of replacing the suitcase in its original hiding-place so there would be no signs it had been tampered with.
"Henderson must radio a signal to Firestorm. I want Anderson to use his Sikorsky to shadow the express hauling these two wagons all the way to Stockholm. He's to have two men on board he can land if necessary. Anderson is to be warned that the suitcase is likely to be dropped somewhere en route between here and Stockholm."
"And how's Anderson going to see all that in the dark?"
"Because it's likely to be some place out in the wilds, which means they'll need some kind of signal exchanged between the man inside the wagon and those waiting close to the track — a flare, the flashing lights of a parked car, something Anderson will be able to spot from the air."
"Anything else?"
"Plenty. Anderson must have a method of communication with Fondberg of Sapo. I'll phone Fond-berg myself as soon as we get clear of this damned wagon. He has a radio outfit and we can send a second message to Anderson letting him know how to radio signals to Stockholm. There, I really don't think anyone could tell we had tampered with their secret compartment. What is it, Max?"
"A suggestion. I travel inside this wagon." Kellerman, who had been standing just below them and listening to the conversation, had shinned up to join them. "Plenty of places to hide," he said, looking round the gloomy interior, "and that way the consignment is under close Telescope observation. Henderson gave me this water bottle."
"One man alone? It could be dangerous," Beaurain commented dubiously.
"I never thought I'd joined a kindergarten," the German said drily.
"You're right," Beaurain murmured. "And this is something we don't let Marker know about," he said firmly.
"Weapon, Max?" Louise offered the pistol she had collected while on board Firestorm. Kellerman shook his head, pulled up his right trouser leg and showed them a knife sheathed inside his sock. "If I need something it has to be quiet, I suspect. What's the priority?" he asked Beaurain. "Risking letting the consignment go or trying to track the Syndicate at all cost?"
The priority, Max," Beaurain said quietly, 'is preserving your own life. You'll be working without back-up."
"Any more instructions for Henderson?" Louise asked.
"Find out the exact route of this train from the map inside the station — I think it's Hassleholm, Nassjo, Mjolby, Norrkoping and then Stockholm. Transmit to Anderson not only route but also the timetable. And now we have one or two loose ends to tie up."
"But not Max."
Beaurain had turned to wish the German good luck but already he had vanished into the cavernous depths of the wagon without a trace. How he was going to stick the stench of resin Beaurain couldn't imagine. He leapt down to the ground beside the track. Marker was returning from the patrol-car which was still parked in the distance close to the ferry terminal.
"Everything is organised?" the Dane enquired.
"Your heroin is still aboard."
The ding-dong of the bell warning traffic to steer clear of the road crossing was continuing and the turn-round of the train ferries was very swift. He was asking a very great deal of Marker. Not twenty feet from where they stood was the biggest haul of heroin ever to pass through Denmark. If Marker confiscated it his stock in Copenhagen would rocket; it would solve any problems he might have in fighting his superior; it would quite likely end with his taking over from that same superior.
"We could lose it en route," Marker suggested tentatively, studying the Belgian's reaction closely.
"I have taken certain precautions."
"Which I don't want to know about."
"Which I have no intention of telling you about," Beaurain assured him.
"You think you have a good chance of getting away with it?"
"Providing you personally arrest and hold incommunicado for three days this rail guard and the driver. Can you hold them somewhere in Copenhagen — not here in Elsinore? And you'll need another driver."
"Certainly," Marker agreed with enthusiasm. "Those men in the patrol-car can help. They will handcuff both men and transport them to the police station. From there they will simply disappear for the required three days. You will let me know the ultimate destination of the heroin? I need as soon as possible an official report from Sapo chief Fondberg in Stockholm."
Beaurain and Louise were waiting in the Mercedes, watching the rail wagon being attached to the Stockholm Express. In a matter of minutes it would be aboard the ferry, en route for Halsingborg where the express would move on to Swedish soil and begin its journey towards distant Stockholm.
"Do you think Max is going to be all right?" Louise asked as she accepted a few puffs from Beaurain's cigarette. "That wagon looks very tightly sealed to me."