Colin Forbes - Double Jeopardy

Vinz took a step forward and waved the Luger. 'You are asking for a mouthful of broken teeth…'

He got no further. Dietrich stood up and moved round his desk with surprising agility. With the back of his hand he struck Vinz across the face. The German stood very still as Dietrich stormed.

`Shut your trap! Who do you think is in charge here? Get out of this room and go fishing!'

Martel waited until Vinz had left and then went on speaking. `Ask yourself the question, Dietrich. Is there one other person only who knows the location of the dumps? If so, that has to be Stoller's informant. Maybe a series of anonymous phone calls? If you are wondering why, every newspaper headline reporting discovery of another dump swings the polls a few points more against you. I say you are being manipulated by a mastermind…'

There was a flurry of activity. The door into the library burst open and one of the guards rushed in. Dietrich glared at the intruder.

`What is it, Karl?'

'The gate. They have just phoned through. A convoy of cars is approaching the entrance – they think it is the police

Dietrich stood considering the news for a few seconds, staring at Martel. Then he barked out an order and two more men appeared from the hall through the open door.

`Put him in the cellar – he can shout his head off down there and no one will hear him. Search him first…'

He moved across to a bookcase and removed a volume. Behind it was a button which he pressed. A section slid back with a purr of hydraulics, an addition to the schloss no doubt built by his Stuttgart technicians. Martel carefully did not look at Beck as he extracted the smoked cigarette from his holder and stubbed out the butt in the messy ashtray.

'On your feet!'

Karl had spoken and his Luger was aimed point-blank. Beyond the dark well exposed by the secret door Martel could see a staircase curving down out of sight. He followed one of the guards across the shag carpet as Karl gestured with his gun, walking slowly. The muzzle was rammed into his back. As he stepped through the opening he heard Klara Beck speak urgently.

'Empty that ashtray – it contains his cigarette stubs…'

Trust lovely Klara not to overlook any little detail, the bitch. A smell of damp, of mustiness rose to meet him as he descended the spiral with the guard in front and Karl behind. Dietrich called out a final threat.

'Later you will talk – or we open the moat sluices and you drown slowly in that pit…'

At the bottom of the steps a doorway led into a stone-walled cellar. Karl thrust a hand against the small of his back and shoved him forward. He lost his balance, sprawled full-length on the floor. When he stood up he was alone and the door was closed and locked.

The BND motorcade, comprising three six-seater black Mercedes crammed with armed men in civilian clothes, pulled up in a semi-circle round the entrance gates. The chief guard inside panicked and gave an order.

'Release the dogs!'

The gates were opened and the pack of unleashed dogs rushed out, jaws agape, snarling as they leapt at the cars. Beside the driver in the lead car sat Erich Stoller. He gave the command at once.

'Shoot those beasts…'

A window was lowered, a machine-pistol appeared and a fusillade rattled. The vicious animals stopped, some in mid-leap as the hail of bullets swept over them. Within seconds every dog lay inert in the roadway. Stoller stepped out followed by two men.

'Cut the communications in the gatehouse,' he ordered.

The two men ran forward and inside the building as one of the guards held the phone to his ear calling the schloss. One man grabbed him. The second ripped the instrument from the wall. Shaken, the guard still protested.

'That's illegal…'

'You're under arrest. Charge – obstructing the authorities in the performance of their duty…'

Outside another guard was shouting at Stoller. 'You will pay for this – killing the dogs…'

'I noticed one of them was foaming at the mouth,' Stoller told him. 'I suspect rabies. Tests will be carried out.' He returned to his car and spoke to the driver. 'Burn rubber to reach the schloss

The motorcade swept up the curving drive, spinning round corners. One minute after leaving the entrance Stoller saw ahead the walls of the schloss.

'Keep up the speed – they may try to lower the portcullis…'

He was right – as they approached the drawbridge the hydraulically operated portcullis began to move down. All three cars swept through the archway and the gate closed behind them. At the top of a flight of steps stood Reinhard

Dietrich, hands on his hips. Stoller, followed by his men, jumped out and ran up the flight.

`You cannot enter,' Dietrich told him. 'And when I am elected you will be booted out of Bavaria…'

`This warrant…' Stoller waved the document under Dietrich's nose `… signed by the Minister-President, allows me to do what I like – tear down the place stone by stone should it be necessary. Are you going to invite us in or attempt obstruction?'

Dietrich turned away and walked back into the hall followed by Stoller. Inside the industrialist began moving towards a room on the left. Stoller noticed a door to the right which was half-open. He made for it and entered a large library. An attractive dark-haired woman holding a glass sat on a sofa and looked at him over the rim as she drank.

'Your name?' Stoller demanded.

'This is outrageous!' Dietrich had hurried after Stoller and was standing behind a huge desk. 'I shall complain to the Minister-President…'

'There is the phone.' Stoller turned to the woman again and his manner became polite. 'We have full powers of search. Could you please give me your name…'

'Don't answer,' Dietrich told her, reaching for a cigar.

'Klara Beck,' the woman replied and smiled. 'I am Mr Dietrich's secretary and personal assistant. Is there any other way in which I can help you?'

'You can let -me know the present whereabouts of an Englishman who called here within the past hour. His name is Philip Johnson…'

Klara Beck. One of the names Stoller had checked out when Martel had reported the conversation he had eavesdropped on in the phone booth at Lindau Hauptbahnhof. The Stuttgart number had been traced to, a penthouse apartment owned by Dietrich GmbH. There was also an interesting file on Beck which went back to her early days in Berlin.

'I have been working in my office upstairs and just came down to the library before you arrived,' Beck replied. 'I have never heard of anyone by that name…'

`You live here at the schloss?'

'What bloody impertinence…!' Dietrich exploded from behind his desk.

Stoller ignored the industrialist, concentrating his whole attention on examining the room and questioning Beck. His men were at this moment searching the rest of the schloss. Dietrich knew this, yet he had left Erwin Vinz to keep an eye on them. He seemed most reluctant to leave the library, which convinced Stoller he was in the right room.

'I have an apartment in Stuttgart,' Beck replied as she took out a pack of cigarettes and inserted one between her lips. Stoller leant close to her with his lighter and ignited the cigarette. As he did so she watched him with her large eyes and there was a hint of invitation. A dangerous woman.

`It is a company apartment,' she went on. 'One of the advantages of working for the owner.' Her eyes again met Stoller's directly. 'And I'm very good at all aspects of my job.'

`I'm sure you are.'

Stoller bowed courteously, then resumed his slow stroll round the room. The ash-tray on the desk had recently been hastily cleaned. There were smear-marks of ash round its interior. He looked up as one of his men entered the room followed by a colleague.

`Anything so far, Peter?' Stoller enquired.