Where Eagles Dare

Mary preceded Anne-Marie through the doorway. The door was firmly closed behind them. Heidi and von Brauchitsch looked at each other. Heidi compressed her lips and the expression that momentarily flitted over her face about matched the one Anne-Marie had been wearing: von Brauchitsch made the age-old helpless gesture of lifting his shoulders high, palms of the hands turned up.

Within half a minute the reason for von Brauchitsch's helpless gesture became obvious. Through the door there came first the sound of a raised voice, a brief scuffle then a sharp cry of pain. Von Brauchitsch exchanged another resigned glance with Heidi, then turned as he heard heavy footsteps behind him. The man approaching was burly, weather-beaten, middle-aged and in civilian clothes: but although not in uniform he could never have been mistaken for anything other than an army officer. The heavy blue-shaven jowls, bull-neck, close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes made him almost a caricature of the World War I Prussian Uhlan cavalry officer. That he was by no means as fossilised as he appeared was quite evident from the distinctly respectful manner in which von Brauchitsch addressed him.

“Good evening, Colonel Kramer.”

“Evening, Captain. Evening, Fraulein.” He had an unexpectedly gentle and courteous voice. “You wear an air of expectancy?”

Before either could answer, the door opened and Anne-Marie and Mary entered: Mary gave the impression of having been pushed into the room. Anne-Marie was slightly flushed and breathing rather heavily, but otherwise her beautiful Aryan self. Mary's clothes were disordered, her hair dishevelled and it was obvious that she had been crying. Her cheeks were still tear-stained.

“We'll have no more trouble with her,” Anne-Marie announced with satisfaction. She caught sight of Kramer and the change in her tone was perceptible. “Interviewing new staff, Colonel.”

“In your usual competent fashion, I see,” Colonel Kramer said dryly. He shook his head. “When will you learn that respectable young girls do not like being forcibly searched and having their underclothes examined to see if they were made in Piccadilly or Gorki Street?”

“Security regulations,” Anne-Marie said defensively.

“Yes, yes.” Kramer's voice was brusque. “But there are other ways.” He turned away impatiently. The engaging of female staff was not the problem of the deputy chief of the German Secret Service. While Heidi was helping Mary to straighten her clothes, he went on, to von Brauchitsch: “A little excitement in the village tonight?”

“Nothing for us.” Von Brauchitsch shrugged. “Deserters.”

Kramer smiled.

“That's what I told Colonel Weissner to say. I think our friends are British agents.”

“What!”

“After General Carnaby, I shouldn't wonder,” Kramer said carelessly. “Relax, Captain. It's over. Three of them are coming up for interrogation within the hour. I'd like you to be present later on. I think you'll find it most entertaining and—ah—instructive.”

“There were five of them, sir. I saw them myself when they were rounded up in ‘Zum Wilden Hirsch’.”

“There were five,” Colonel Kramer corrected. “Not now. Two of them—the leader and one other—are in the Blau See. They commandeered a car and went over a cliff.”

Mary, her back to the men and Anne-Marie, smoothed down her dress and slowly straightened. Her face was stricken. Anne-Marie turned, saw Mary's curiously immobile position and was moving curiously towards her when Heidi took Mary's arm and said quickly: “My cousin looks ill. May I take her to her room?”

“All right.” Anne-Marie waved her hand in curt dismissal. “The one you use when you are here.”

The room was bleak, monastic, linoleum-covered, with a made-up iron bed, chair, tiny dressing-table, a hanging cupboard and nothing else. Heidi locked the door behind them.

“You heard?” Mary said emptily. Her face was as drained of life as her voice.

“I heard—and I don't believe it.”

“Why should they lie?”

“They believe it.” Heidi's tone was impatient, almost rough. “It's time you stopped loving and started thinking. The Major Smiths of this world don't drive over cliff edges.”

“Talk is easy, Heidi.”

“So is giving up. I believe he is alive. And if he is, and if he comes here and you're gone or not there to help him, you know what he'll be then?” Mary made no reply, just gazed emptily into Heidi's face. “He'll be dead. He'll be dead because you let him down. Would he let you down?”

Mary shook her head dumbly.

“Now then,” Heidi went on briskly. She reached first under her skirt then down the front of her blouse and laid seven objects on the table. “Here we are. Lilliput .21 automatic, two spare magazines, ball of string, lead weight, plan of the castle and the instructions.” She crossed to a corner of the room, raised a loose floor-board, placed the articles beneath it and replaced the board. “They'll be safe enough there.”

Mary looked at her for a long moment and showed her first spark of interest in an hour.

“You knew that board was loose,” she said slowly.