Dennis Wheatley - Traitors' Gate

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30 Mar 1942 - Oct 1942
Traitors' Gate is the sixth of seven volumes incorporating all the principal events which occurred between September, 1939, and May, 1945, covering the activities of Gregory Sallust, one of the most famous Secret Agents ever created in fiction about the Second World War.
In the summer of 1942, Hungary was still little affected by the war and while on a secret mission to Budapest, Gregory lived for a long time in a pre-war atmosphere of love and laughter. But his mission involved him with Ribbentrop's beautiful Hungarian mistress, and soon the laughter was stilled by fear as he desperately struggled to save them both from the result of their clandestine association...

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'Correct, Herr Reichsaussenminister.' Grauber gave a jerky little bow; then turned back to Sabine with a look of deferential interrogation.

She shook her head. 'I am afraid I have little to add. He had been here a fortnight and was convinced that he was wasting his time.'

'Did he make no mention at all of his contacts?'

'He said that he had talked with one or two Jews, and a number of people of some standing with whom he had scraped acquaintance; but he did not disclose the names of any of them to me.'

'Then he was holding out on you, Gnadige Frau Baronin. We have very good reason to believe that a group of magnates is conspiring against the regime. It would be too much of a coincidence if he were not in touch with them.'

'I may yet find out more if he does come back.' She glanced at Ribbentrop. 'It was with that object I invited him to stay here for a few nights.'

Gregory was feeling much easier now. It really looked as if Sabine's confidence in her ability to hold the fort whatever happened was about to be justified, and that Grauber must now retire with his tail between his legs. But almost casually he said:

'As the Gnadige Frau Baronin has tacitly admitted that her story of staying with this man's aunt in Paris was no more than a temporary cover device, perhaps she would be graciously pleased to tell us where she did first meet him?'

Sabine lit a cigarette, and replied truthfully. 'It was in the summer of 1936 at Deauyille. I was at that time in the employ of an international financier named Lord Gavin Fortescue. I did not realize it until later, but Lord Gavin was engaged in criminal activities. He had built up a formidable organization for smuggling not only great quantities of dutiable goods, but also agitators, into England. Mr. Sallust had been given the task of investigating these secret landings by a Sir Pellinore Gwaine-Cust, and…'

'What!' Ribbentrop broke in. 'But he lived only a few doors from our Embassy in Carlton House Terrace. When I was Ambassador in London I knew him well by sight, and on several occasions I ran into him at official receptions. His was an unforgettable personality, and the stories about him were legion. He poses as a sort of damn fool retired Guards Officer, but he had made an immense fortune for himself in the City. His influence is enormous and it is even said that more than once his hand has been behind changes in the Cabinet.'

Grauber gave a quick nod. 'Correct, Herr Reichsaussenminister. According to our records this old Sir Cust has a finger in every pie, and is privy to every secret. It should be added that after Churchill he is Germany's most inveterate enemy. In the past quarter of a century he has a score of times thwarted endeavours to increase the power of the Fatherland.'

Raising her eyebrows, Sabine remarked, 'You both surprise me. He seemed to me an unusually straightforward and very charming old gentleman.'

'You know him, then?' Grauber asked with quick interest.

'Yes; I met him through Mr. Sallust, and he could not have been kinder to me.'

'In what way?' enquired Ribbentrop.

'Well, through going to England and carrying out Lord Gavin's instructions I had made myself liable to arrest by the British Police. Sir Pellinore knew that, although he did not say so at the time. But he told me that if I got into difficulties with the authorities about anything I was not to hesitate to let him know. He also said that whenever I wished to stay in London his house and servants would always be at my disposal.'

'Why should he have taken such a special interest in you?'

'Because he was an old friend of my father's. Both of them were fine horsemen and they used to jump against one another at the Olympia Horse Shows in King Edward VIIs time. Sir Pellinore had also stayed with my parents at our castle for the partridge shooting; but, of course, that was before I was born.'

'And did you escape arrest, or did Sir Pellinore use his lawyers to get you off on some technicality?'

'I escaped arrest, but that I owed to Mr. Sallust. At considerable risk to himself he got me out of the country, and probably saved me from a very unpleasant prison sentence.'

'So!' Grauber exclaimed. 'Then gratitude is the explanation for the Gnadige Frau Baronin's concealing Sallust in her house.'

Gregory caught his breath. For the past few minutes he had been lulled into a false belief that the worst was over. He saw Sabine stiffen, and she asked sharply:

'What do you mean by that?'

Grauber gestured towards the drink trolley. 'That you brought him back with you and have concealed him somewhere. Otherwise why should there be two dirty glasses on that tray?'

'Really, Herr Gruppenführer she gave an impatient shrug. 'You may be a very clever policeman, but this time you are on a false scent. There are two dirty glasses because I had one drink before I went up to bed and another when I came down again.'

Ribbentrop was now looking extremely worried and Gregory wondered if it was because he realized that Sabine was lying. He should have if he cast his mind back over the past twenty minutes, for Sabine had not joined him in a drink when they had come in together. But he made no comment.

Grauber only smiled and walked across to the far side of the staircase where for a few seconds he was hidden from Gregory's view. When he came into it again his back was turned and he was carrying something in front of him. Holding it out to Sabine, he said:

'And this, Gnadige Frau Baronin. How do you account for this?'

Having put the question he moved his arm sideways, so that Ribbentrop could get a better view of the thing he held. Gregory could now also see it. To his horror it was the small basin half full of pinkish water, and with the bloodstained piece of lint in it, that Sabine had used to bathe the cut on his head.

Still undefeated, Sabine stalled again with a half admission. 'I take back what I said just now, Herr Gruppenführer, about your being a poor detective. Mr. Sallust did not run away from me as I told you. He wanted to but I wouldn't let him. I still hoped to get more out of him if I could keep him with me. When we got in I did give him a drink, and I bathed his head. But I couldn't induce him to stay here. He was convinced that, when you learned that it was I who got him out of the police station, you would come here and demand to search the house. As soon as he had finished his drink he told me to give you his compliments and say that he would yet live to see you dangling from a hangman's rope. Then he didn't even stop to collect his things, but asked me to keep them for him till he came back after the war.'

It was so exactly what Gregory might have done that it sounded extremely plausible. But Grauber still had an ace up his sleeve. Shaking his bristly head, he said:

'Gnadige Frau Baronin, that will not do. We know that he is still here.' Then beckoning Puttony forward he said to him, 'Lieutenant, report the help you have given us to the Herr Reichsaussenminister.'

The stocky young Hungarian advanced a few quick paces, came stiffly to attention, then rattled off as though he were giving evidence before a magistrate, 'On completion of my tour of duty I returned to the Station. As I was about to go in I met the Gnadige Frau Baronin and the man who has been passing as Tavenier coming out. He was dishevelled and his clothes were torn. The Station Captain had seen them to the door. I asked him what had been going on. He told me that the man had had a fight in the Arizona with Captain Cochefert and a Gruppenführer of the Gestapo. I had been present when the man had admitted to Captain Cochefert that he was not Tavenier. He had then produced a Gestapo pass in the name of Obersturmbannführer Einholtz and said that he assumed the name of Tavenier only because he was in Budapest on an undercover mission. For him to have fought with a Gestapo Chief and Captain Cochefert made it clear to me that he could not after all be a Gestapo Colonel, and was probably an enemy agent. With enquiring further I ran from the Station and jumped on my motorcycle. I was in time to catch up the Gnadige Frau Baronin's car as it was about to cross the Swing Bridge. She did not cross it but turned off down the Corso and there pulled up. For some time the car remained stationary. While I was keeping it under observation a motorcyclist patrol passed and I called him to my assistance. When the car restarted we followed it here. I sent the patrol round to the lower road with orders to tail the man if he left by that side of the house. Not far from the courtyard entrance there is a telephone kiosk. While using it I was able to continue my watch on the archway. If I had waited to ask the Station Captain why he had just released a man who had attacked a Gruppenführer I should have lost the car; but the more I thought about his having done so the more it puzzled me. In the circumstances I decided not to ask help from him. Instead I telephoned Arrow Cross Headquarters. Fortunately Major Szalasi was there. He volunteered to come himself and arrived a few minutes later with a truckload of his young men. We posted them on both sides of the house and round the whole block. I then telephoned the Station and learned that Captain Cochefert had been taken to hospital. In order to find out exactly what had occurred I went there. With him I found Herr Gruppenführer Grauber, to whom he presented me. I returned here with them. With grim attention Gregory had followed each incisive sentence. He knew now why the outline of the officer they had almost run into on leaving the police station had seemed vaguely familiar, and that Puttony was far from being such a fool as he looked. But for his eagerness to ensure his superior's having made a blunder, Sabine might have got away with it; but now it seemed that her last line of defence was breached. She had put up a splendid show, but the combination of Grauber, Cochefert and Puttony had been too much for her, and there was no way in which Gregory could give her aid. With a sinking heart he watched the pack close in.

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