Eric Ambler - The Schirmer Inheritance

“Do you intend to keep me here by force?”

“Only if you are not wise and do not wish to stay.”

“Aren’t you forgetting why I came here?”

“No. I will give you my decision in two days, Mr. Carey. Until then, you stay.”

“Supposing I told you that unless Miss Kolin and I are released immediately you’ll have as much chance of inheriting that estate as that sentry outside.”

“Your office in America will be very sad. Arthur explained to me.”

George felt himself reddening. “Does it occur to you that, trail or no trail, Colonel Chrysantos won’t take very long to find this place now? In two or three hours he may have you surrounded by Greek troops.”

Arthur laughed. The Sergeant smiled grimly.

“If that is so, Mr. Carey, Chrysantos will be in trouble with his government. But you need not worry. If this bad Colonel comes, we will protect you. A glass of wine? No? Brandy? No? Then, since you are tired, the Corporal will show you where you can sleep. Good night.” He nodded dismissal and began to go through the photostats again, putting those that interested him specially into a separate pile.

“This way, chum.”

“Just a moment. What about Miss Kolin, Sergeant?”

The Sergeant did not look up. “You do not have to worry about her, Mr. Carey. Good night.”

Arthur led the way; George followed him; the sentry brought up the rear. They went upstairs to a derelict room with a straw mattress on the floorboards. There was also a bucket. The sentry brought in an oil lamp.

“It’s only for a couple of nights, Mr. Carey,” said Arthur-the hotel receptionist apologizing to a valued client who has arrived unexpectedly. “You’ll find the palliasse fairly clean. The Sarge is very keen on hygiene.”

“Where’s Miss Kolin?”

“Next room.” He jerked his thumb. “But don’t you worry about her. It’s a better room than this.”

“What did the Sergeant mean about Chrysantos getting into trouble with the government?”

“If he tried to surround us? Well, the Greek frontier’s nearly a kilometre away. We’re on Yugoslav territory. I’d have thought you’d have guessed.”

George digested this disconcerting news while Arthur adjusted the lamp wick.

“What about the frontier patrols?”

Arthur hung the lamp on a hook jutting out from the wall. “You want to know too much, chum.” He went to the door. “No lock on this door, but, just in case you’re thinking of sleepwalking, there’s a wide-awake sentry here on the landing, and he’s trigger-happy. Get the idea?”

“I get it.”

“I’ll give you a call when it’s time for breakfast. Pleasant dreams.”

About an hour had gone by when George heard the Sergeant come upstairs and say something to the sentry.

The sentry replied briefly. A moment or two later George heard the sound of a key being inserted in the door of the next room-the room Arthur had said was Miss Kolin’s.

With some idea of protecting her, George got up quickly from the mattress on which he had been lying and went to the door. He did not open it immediately. He heard Miss Kolin’s voice and the Sergeant’s. There was a pause, then the sound of the door being shut. The key turned in the lock once more.

For a while, he thought the Sergeant had gone, and went back to the corner where his mattress was. Then he heard the Sergeant’s voice again, and hers. They were talking in German. He went to the wall and listened. The tone of their voices was curiously conversational. He was aware of a strange uneasiness and his heart began to beat too fast.

The voices had ceased now, but soon they began once more, and softly, as if the speakers did not wish to be overheard. Then there was silence for a long time. He lay down again on the mattress. Minutes went by; then, in the silence, he heard her utter a fierce, shuddering cry of passion.

He did not move. After a while there were low voices again. Then nothing. He became aware for the first time of the sound of the cicadas in the night outside. He was at last beginning to understand Miss Kolin.

George was kept for two days and three nights at the Sergeant’s headquarters.

On the first day, the Sergeant left the house soon after dawn, and returned when it was dark. George spent the day in the room downstairs, and had his meals there with Arthur. He did not see either the Sergeant or Miss Kolin. After that first night, she was moved to another room in an annex to the house and food was taken to her by one of the sentries. When George asked if he could see her, Arthur shook his head.

“Sorry, chum. No can do.”

“What’s happened to her?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

“I want to see her.”

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t mind whether you see her or not. It’s just that she doesn’t want to see you .”

“Why not?”

“The Sarge is the only one she wants to see.”

“Is she all right?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” He grinned. “Cut lip, of course, and a bruise or two, but radiant as a bride. You wouldn’t know her.”

“How much longer is this going on?”

“Search me. I’d say it had only just started.”

“After what happened, it doesn’t make sense.”

Arthur looked at him with some amusement. “I expect you’ve been nicely brought up. I told you she’d been asking for it, didn’t I? Well, she got it, and very nice too. I’ve never seen the Sarge take such a fancy to a girl before.”

“A fancy!” George was getting angry.

“I wouldn’t mind betting she was a virgin,” Arthur mused; “or as good as.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!”

“What’s the matter, chum? Sour grapes?”

“I don’t think there’s much point in discussing it. Did Colonel Chrysantos turn up?”

“The sheriff’s posse, you mean? Sure. They’re sitting on their backsides, like twerps, just on the other side of the frontier. Waiting for something to happen.”

“Or maybe waiting for Miss Kolin and me to turn up. Supposing the American Legation’s brought into this and they start complaining to Belgrade. Going to be a bit awkward for you, isn’t it?”

“You’ll be back before they finish even talking about doing anything. And when you do get back, you’ll begin to think again about all the fuss your office is going to make over the Sarge, and say it was all a mistake.”

“Got it all worked out, haven’t you? I don’t see what you had to get so upset about.”

“No? For one thing they’ve arrested that poor old sod who drove you. That’s not so funny, is it?”

“How do you know?”

“We had word from Florina this morning.”

“How?”

“Ask no questions, you’ll be told no lies. I’ll tell you this, though. The comitadjis have been using these hills for fifty years or more. There’s not much you can’t get away with in these parts if you know the ropes. Don’t forget that they’re Macedonians on both sides of the frontier. When it comes to small-scale work like this, the Chrysantos boys haven’t got an earthly.”

“What’ll happen to the driver?”

“That depends. He’s an old comitadji , so he won’t say where he got his orders from, no matter what they do to him. But it’s awkward. He isn’t the only one in Florina. There’s old Ma Vassiotis, for instance. They might have a go at her. You know, if the Sarge hadn’t changed things round a bit, I’d be inclined to go up and give your Miss What’s-her-name another bashing myself.”

“Supposing I were to tell Chrysantos that I hired the car and told the old man where to go.”

“He might believe you. But how did you know where to go?”