It wasn’t until well after 08.00 hrs. that they heard a loud voice, speaking in German, come drifting up the well of the stairs. The man was saying: ‘I want every one of you out into the forest. Take guns! These two must be found! Everyone is to go!’
Girland and Malik exchanged glances, then Girland got to his feet.
‘Watch the stairs,’ he said and moving along the corridor, he opened a door on his right and entered a small unfurnished room with a short spiral staircase, leading to one of the turrets. He climbed the stairs and moved into the turret. The slotted windows gave him a direct view down on the lawn and on to the distant forest.
He waited. Some five minutes later, he saw the first of von Goltz’s men coming across the lawn, heading for the forest.
He began to count them… fifteen… twenty-three… thirty… They broke up and formed a long even line, each man ten metres apart from the other. They entered the forest. Girland continued to wait. Another five men came across the lawn, slowly followed by an enormously fat man who Girland guessed would be the chef. He plodded forward slowly, followed by another man who kept waving his arms as he talked to the fat man.
Ten minutes later, Girland saw an estate car full of women drive down to the gates. He watched the gates open and the car move off along the main road to Garmisch. Still he waited. Then he saw von Goltz, carrying a shotgun, with his major-domo at his heels also cross the lawn and enter the forest.
After waiting another ten minutes, Girland decided there was no one else to come and he returned to the corridor where Gilly looked expectantly at him. Malik was leaning over the banister, listening and watching. He straightened when Girland came from the room.
‘Well?’
‘Thirty-eight men and a number of women have left,’ Girland said. ‘The count with his major-domo has also gone into the forest. Did you hear anything?’
‘They sent three men up to the room below. They took away the curtain cord and then went down again.’
The two men looked at each other.
‘This could be a trap,’ Girland said. ‘A bluff… like the rope. The gunman could have been left behind to wait for us to show.’
Malik nodded.
‘Yes. Shall we go down and find him?’
Gilly listened, her eyes growing round.
‘He might not be down there. We’ll play it safe just in case he is. We have plenty of time. We’ll give him an hour or so.
He doesn’t know for certain we are up here. Let’s stretch his nerves a little.’
Again Malik nodded.
‘I’ll stay here… you watch from the turret. We want to be sure they don’t give up the search in the forest and come back.’
‘Yes.’ Girland turned to Gilly. ‘Come with me.’ He led her into the turret-room. ‘I’m going up into the turret. You sit on the floor. You may have a long wait, but try to amuse yourself. Think of all the nice things you’ve done in your life if you can remember them… that should keep you occupied.’
Gilly flushed.
There are moments when I could kill you!’ she said fiercely. ‘You treat me like a child!’
‘No, Gilly… not a child.’
Girland regarded her for a long moment, then went up the turret stairs.
Gilly choked back a sob. That cool, indifferent look he had given her told her as no words could his opinion of her.
What really hurt her was that she knew his opinion of her was the same as her own.
Lu Silk sat motionless in his chair, his gun resting in his lap. The silence in this vast Schloss was depressing, but Silk was used to silence. He was also used to waiting. He was sure, sooner or later Girland would come down the stairs, and then he would have him.
While he sat there Silk recalled another long wait he once had -when was it? Three years back? He nodded to himself.
Yes, three years back.
There was an agitator, Jack Adams, who was stirring up trouble among the men working on one of Radnitz’s big building projects. The work was slowing down and Radnitz could see he could get caught on the compensation clause: big money, so he had given Silk the signal to get rid of Adams.
Adams had lived in a two room walk-up in Brooklyn. He knew he was in danger, but he had a lot of confidence in himself which was a mistake when dealing with a man like Silk.
Silk had rented a room across the road, facing Adams’ apartment block. He arrived there early one morning and took up a position on the hard kitchen chair, the curtains of the window half drawn. He had brought with him his favourite killing weapon: a .22 target rifle with a telescopic sight. He waited for Adams to show. He wasn’t to know that Adams was in bed with flu. There was an important mass meeting being held at 21.00 hrs. that evening and Radnitz had ordered Silk to stop Adams from attending. Silk imagined Adams was certain to go out during the day, so he waited. He waited for thirteen hours. He hadn’t brought food with him, and around 17.00 hrs. he was hungry, thirsty and viciously angry. He didn’t dare leave the window for a second. He knew that when Adams moved, he always moved fast, and his shabby car was parked only a few yards from the entrance to the apartment block.
Sitting in his chair, now waiting for Girland, Silk told himself the Adams’ affair had been the longest endurance test he had ever had, but it had taught him that if you wait long enough, were patient enough, you fixed what you were hired to fix.
Adams had finally shown at 20.30 hrs. The light was bad and he moved fast, running down the steps and heading for his car.
Because Silk hadn’t relaxed for a moment during those long thirteen hours, he was ready for him. As Adams paused briefly to unlock the car door, Silk got his head in the centre of the cross hairs of the telescopic sight and squeezed the trigger. That had been the end of Adams’ trouble making.
Because of this experience, Silk was prepared to wait all day for Girland. The count would keep his men out in the forest until dusk. Sooner or later, Girland would make his break. The success or failure of this trap depended on whether Girland believed the Schloss had been evacuated. If he suspected a trap, then he might remain out of sight in spite of hunger and thirst. Although he was unarmed, there were plenty of weapons to hand… swords, knives, battle-axes that adorned most of the walls, but these kind of weapons didn’t bother Silk. He knew no man bom could compete with him with a hand weapon against his gun.
Silk would have liked to smoke, but that would be a give away. He crossed one leg over the other and relaxed, his ears pricked and his one eye on the half open door.
In the big hall was a splendid grandfather clock. During the steady swing of its pendulum, the lead weight slightly touched the case of the clock, making a distinct and regular noise. After half an hour of listening to this noise, Silk found it was getting on his nerves. He wanted to go out into the hall and stop the dock, but this would be too dangerous. If Girland was somewhere upstairs, he too could hear the scrape… scrape… scrape from the clock, and he would be immediately alerted if the clock was stopped. The clock suddenly struck nine: its soft mellow chimes startling Silk. Later, it startled him again when it struck ten.
Although he imagined he had nerves of steel, he found the two hour wait had made him too tense. Twice during this time, he imagined he had heard another slight sound above the scraping of the pendulum and he had half-risen to his feet. Then satisfied that Girland wasn’t creeping down the stairs, he sat back, his hand closing over his pack of cigaretttes, then remembering, had silently cursed. He was now longing for a cigarette. At least during those thirteen hours when he had waited for Adams, he had smoked incessantly.
He began to think of Girland. This man was a trained CIA agent. Silk’s thin mouth formed into a wry grimace. His first murder assignment had been against a CIA agent, a man who had collected enough evidence to put Radnitz behind bars and had to be eliminated immediately.(see’Believed Violent’)