04 Gimlet Mops Up Read online

  "Have you photographs of these men?" asked Gimlet.

  "Fortunately, yes. I will show them to you later on, although it must not be overlooked that they may have adopted disguises. As to where they are, they may be anywhere between

  Lands End and John O'Groats—that is, if in fact they are in this country. So far we have had little time to get on their track. I must tell you that when this matter first arose a meeting of all responsible authorities took place in Whitehall. The first question was how to tackle the problem, for it was no ordinary one. Was it a matter for the War Office or the police? As you may know, before the war police methods in Europe differed considerably. In Germany, for instance, in the case of a major crime the entire police force was set to work like an enormous machine to find the criminal. France, relying on individual effort, detailed one or two highly trained detectives who worked independently. In this country we chose to compromise. A C.I.D. man was usually given the assignment with power to employ the entire police force if necessary. But the case now before us seems to call for a military operation rather than normal police procedure.

  We don't know how many men we are up against, but they will certainly be armed, probably with the latest thing in weapons. For that reason I decided to make the matter a military one—at least in the first instance. Turning over in my mind the men most able to deal with such a situation as this, naturally, knowing something of what you did in Occupied France I thought of you. Now you know why you are here. For the purpose of this operation, if you undertake it, you will be something between soldiers and policemen—shall we say, something in the nature of the G-Men who dealt so effectively with the booze racketeers in America."

  "Have you a list of the people who have so far received death warrants?" asked Gimlet.

  "I expected that question," replied the General. "Yes, we have a list. It may not be complete. Naturally, each man has been put under police protection, but that may not save them. The Werewolves will anticipate such a move on our part and act accordingly.

  Even if we provided each selected victim with a personal bodyguard it might not be enough. In any case, the

  average Briton resents having to live, sleep, eat and play, surrounded by armed men.

  With regard to possible candidates for death who so far have not made contact with us, you may say, why don't we issue a public warning? We shall have to do that, of course, if things get really bad, but the Government is anxious to avoid such a step if it is possible, for these reasons. First, such publicity would flatter not only the murderers, but a large part of the German population still smarting under the sting of defeat. The Werewolves would become national heroes and the organization would tend to grow. Secondly, the thing might be copied by hooligan elements in this country, who would commit crimes and make them look like the work of the Werewolves. As I have already observed, the Nazis are trying to give these proceedings some sort of legal status. The selected victims are tried, in some cases, in their absence. The findings of the alleged court—always the death sentence, of course, are sent to the accused by post. The condemned man is not murdered in his house, in the street, or at his place of business. He is abducted by his executioners and taken to some chosen place where, in a pseudo-official manner, the sentence is carried out. We are hoping that more of the men who have received death certificates will come to us, but without broadcasting a warning, or issuing a notice in the press, it is hard to know how to get in touch with them.'

  Gimlet smiled curiously. "I can tell you one of them," he announced.

  The General looked surprised. "You can?"

  Gimlet nodded.

  "And who is the victim in this case?"

  Gimlet put his hand in his pocket and took out a folded sheet of paper. There was dead silence in the room as he laid it out flat. 'The name on this particular chit is my own," he said evenly. "It came by yesterday morning's post. From it I gather that I was sentenced to death on Thursday last by a Werewolf mary tribunal for the crime of espionage and murder within the Reich over a period of years. In particular, I am indicted for the killing of that bounder von Roth, at Chateaudun , and a Gestapo agent named Bussemann, near Paris." With a quiet laugh Gimlet tossed the paper on the table.

  "This is no laughing matter," asserted the General.

  "It all depends on who laughs last," returned Gimlet drily.

  The General considered him pensively over his glasses. "I fear that you still tend to underestimate the desperate nature of our undertaking," said he, critically. "I will endeavour to put the thing in terms that cannot be misunderstood. The enemy against whom we are opposed is shrewd, calculating, resourceful, efficient, and is possessed—

  obsessed, if you like—with the fearlessness of a fanatic. He will be supported by all the money he needs, and, there is reason to suppose, every hellish device that modern science and human ingenuity can invent. He is not likely to walk about with anything as conspicuous as a Tommy-gun under his arm. We must be prepared for gas, drugs, new explosives, new weapons the existence of which we do not even suspect, and the lethal instruments which were being developed by the best brains in Germany when Hitler fell.

  If you accept this assignment, every step that you take may be your last. The sugar that you put in your coffee may contain a deadly poison. A cigarette may explode in your face. The man next to you in a tram or bus may carry in his sleeve a needle loaded with bacteria. These are the methods the Gestapo adored. Make no mistake; if once these Werewolves suspect that you are on their trail they will wipe you out—or try to—with no more concern than a housemaid swatting a fly. Should they capture you alive they may employ unspeakable tortures to make you speak. From liberated prisoners we have learned that a well-trained Nazi can make medieval torments look like juvenile pastimes.

  Nazi cruelty knows no limits. It is normal procedure. I know this must all sound highly coloured and melodramatic, but unfortunately it is the simple truth, and it must be faced at the outset. I trust I have made myself clear?"

  "Perfectly," answered Gimlet.

  The telephone on a side table shrilled its summons. The General picked it up, listened for a few seconds, and with a crisp, "I see, thanks, replaced the receiver.

  "That was Scotland Yard," he announced. "The body of Major Hugh Beverley, who was at one time officer-in-charge of prisoner-of-war interrogation, has just been found, decapitated, in the garden of his Surrey home." The General's eyes found Gimlet's face. "

  He, too, received his death warrant by yesterday morning's post," he concluded softly.

  The brief interval of silence that followed this tragic statement was again broken by the General. He looked slowly round the table. "Well, how do you feel about helping me to find these fiends?"

  "I didn't know there was any question about it," replied Gimlet evenly. "I think that goes for all present."

  There was a murmur of assent.

  "There's your answer, sir," Gimlet told the General. "We are ready to start as soon as you like."

  "To-morrow?"

  "Certainly."

  "Where are you lodging?"

  "At the Europa, in Piccadilly."

  "I see," murmured the General. "You can't go on living at an hotel, of course. In the first place it would be inconvenient, and in the second, dangerous. With all due respect to big hotels, their very size, the numbers of their staffs and the nature of their clients, make them a regular hunting ground for spies. I had no idea that you were a marked man when I wrote to you. I hope you weren't followed here."

  "I think that's unlikely," opined Gimlet. "I may have been followed from Devonshire to the hotel; there was no way of avoiding that; but in view of the engaging document I re ceived from the Werewolves—which I took seriously, by the way—I left the hotel by the somewhat irregular course of taking the fire escape from the staff quarters to the rear premises."

  "Good," acknowledged the General. "Very well. For the most part I shall be here, at what we may call administrative headquarte
rs. I can tell you now that I have been to some trouble in their preparation. This whole block of buildings has been taken over by us.

  There is more than one entrance, and exit, as I will show you presently. All are guarded by reliable men from the Yard. And in case you should wonder why I selected such an insalubrious area as Brummel Square it was because the place was admirably suited to our requirements. There is little traffic, and a stranger prowling about would quickly be observed. No one can approach without being seen or heard. I have mustered everything that we shall be likely to require—among other things an armoury, radio and transport.

  Incidentally, assuming that you are unarmed, I think you had better each put an automatic in your pocket before you leave here. You will have to keep in close touch with me, so in the morning I should like you to get your kits together and move in here. I'

  ll have quarters prepared for you. We'll have another talk to-morrow and then get down to business." The General paused, and taking an envelope from his pocket spilled four small green cards on the table. have also had these prepared," he went on. "They are police passes—not ordinary ones, but extra specials. They will take you anywhere—into Bucking-- ham Palace, if you wish. They are rarely issued, so take care of them; on no account must they be allowed to fall into the hands of the enemy. I have issued them to you because you may need them urgently. Any policeman will recognise one of these cards and without question give you all the assistance in his power. Finally, I have arranged for my telephone number to be an easy one to commit to memory. It's the same as the calibre of the service rifle—Central, 303. It's a priority number, so you can get me instantly, day or night. Avoid names on the 'phone. You can use your nicknames. I shall use mine. I have tried to think of everything, but I may have forgotten something; if any of you have a suggestion to make I shall be pleased to consider it. For the rest, I do not intend to issue orders to you. Work how you wish. I shall be here to act on your advice and to provide you with anything you may need. That's all for now. I'll just show you round; then we'll adjourn until to-morrow."

  CHAPTER II

  HOTEL EUROPA

  THE precautions taken by the General when the party left, struck Cub as being somewhat overdone. First, the man who had been on front door duty called up, on an inter-house telephone, an observation post on the top floor of the building. On the report '

  all clear' being received, the party left, two at a time, at intervals of five minutes. The exit was not made through the front door, but via a series of cellars which terminated in an empty static water tank, a survival of the blitz period, half buried under rubble at the end of the block. Here a second doorkeeper was on duty. He was equipped with a sound detector so that no one could approach over the fallen masonry without being heard. He unlocked a metal door, like that of a bank strong-room, which gave access to the open air beneath the fire-distorted girders of a gutted house. The password, Brittania, would, the General said, gain them admittance by the same door at any hour. Cub perceived the wisdom of all this, although in the absence of any apparent danger it seemed theatrical and unreal. He was the last to leave. Climbing over the rubble to the pavement, he and Gimlet went on to the corner of Stratton Street where, by arrangement, they found the others waiting for them. A cruising taxi was picked up at the far end of the street and the driver instructed to take them to the Hotel Europa.

  Little was said until the vehicle turned into Piccadilly, when Gimlet remarked: "It's just occurred to me that we might do better than trooping into my quarters together. What I mean is, I received my chit from the Werewolves by the same post as Major Beverley. In his case action was so quickly taken that

  I am bound to suppose that my turn will come at any time. Admittedly, the death notice was addressed to my place in Devonshire, but it seems likely that I was being watched even there, in which case the enemy would follow me to London. That being so, they would know that I am staying at the Europa. I assume, therefore, that the hotel is under observation. I don't want to scare the watchers by appearing to have a bodyguard, so I'll go in alone. The number of my private suite is thirty. It's on the first floor. You fellows follow on and join me there. Keep your eyes open. I'm inclined to agree with the General; this business is no joke, and it would be silly, having survived the war, to be bumped off on one's own doorstep. This will do—I'll drop you here. As I go in I'll warn the hall-porter that I'm expecting guests. He'll have you shown to my quarters. He's safe enough; I've known him for years; but we shall have to treat strangers with suspicion."

  Gimlet stopped the car some fifty yards short of the hotel and went on alone.

  As the others walked quickly along the pavement, Copper observed: "S'welp me! We've played this game in some queer places, but I never expected to do it in the old home town, and that a fact."

  They saw Gimlet dismount and pay off the cab. Pedestrians and taxis were passing in both directions, but there was nothing to indicate that any of them had an interest in the man who had just entered the big hotel.

  The hall-porter showed no surprise when the inquiry was made for suite thirty. He called a page boy who, acting as guide, led the way to the suite and left them there. The door was ajar. Gimlet evidently heard them arrive for he called to them to come in.

  "Did you notice anything like a wolf on the prowl?" he asked lightly, as they entered the private sitting room and closed the door behind them.

  "Not a sign, sir," answered Copper, "Did you?"

  "I thought I caught a slight taint," replied Gimlet slowly, at the same time smiling curiously. "I fancy there's one not far away." As he spoke he opened an inner door which gave access to the bedroom. For a few seconds he surveyed the room without speaking; he inspected the wardrobe and glanced under the bed.

  "Can you still smell that wolf, sir?" asked Copper, frowning heavily.

  "Very faintly," returned Gimlet. "Someone has been in these rooms since I went out. As a simple precaution, when I left I stuck a narrow strip of Celophane across the crack of the bedroom door, and another piece on the outer door; both pieces have been broken. It may have been a chambermaid, of course," he added, as they returned to the sitting room. "I locked the outer door, but the maid would have a master key. Sit down. Let's have some coffee and talk this thing over." He pressed the bell.

  It was answered by a chambermaid. Gimlet ordered coffee. "By the way," he remarked, as the girl was leaving the room, "has anyone been in here since I went out?"

  "Only me, sir," was the ready answer. "I put your bag in." "Ah! My bag," murmured Gimlet.

  "Yes, sir—the little brown attache case."

  "Quite so. How did it arrive?"

  "I think it came by taxi, sir. A porter from the reception office brought it up to me and I put it inside."

  "Where did you put it?"

  "He said it was to go in a safe place, so I put it in the long drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe."

  "I see." Gimlet thought for a moment. "Will you ask the porter who brought it up to come and have a word with me?" "Certainly, sir." The girl departed.

  "The smell of that wolf becomes more distinct," remarked Gimlet quietly, as he returned to the bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and pulled out the bottom drawer. In it lay an attache case. He regarded it suspiciously without touching it. "No doubt you have realised that this bag isn't mine?" he said softly to the others.

  "It's got your name on it, sir," Copper pointed out.

  "That still doesn't make it mine," answered Gimlet drily. "Anyone can paint a name on a case."

  A knock on the sitting-room door took them back to that apartment. It was the chambermaid again. "It's a funny thing, but I can't find that porter, sir," she announced in a puzzled voice. "The reception clerk has no record of a case coming for you. I don't understand it."

  "Never mind," returned Gimlet casually.

  "But the porter said the bag was for Captain Lorrington King—I remember that distinctly. I trust there's nothing wrong, sir?"

 
"Nothing at all," asserted Gimlet. "You did quite right. I rather gather from what you say that you have never seen this particular porter before?"

  "No, sir. But they're always chopping and changing." "Do you remember what this fellow looked like?" "I can only say he seemed a young chap. I didn't pay much attention to him," admitted the maid franldy. "I see. Never mind. That's all."

  The chambermaid went out, closing the door behind her.

  "I begin to get a whiff of that wolf you spoke about just now, sir," said Copper shrewdly.

  "I reckon there's a bomb in that bag."

  "I doubt it," replied Gimlet. "But it seems pretty certain that the enemy has started operations. I can think of no other explanation that would account for the arrival of this mysterious case, which certainly isn't mine, although it bears my name. The chambermaid is above suspicion. I've often seen her here. She was telling the truth. The porter is the fake."

  "What I'd like to know is, what's in that bag?" muttered Copper.

  "So would I," admitted Gimlet. "It won't be a bomb. That isn't their way of doing things—unless they've departed from their usual procedure. They aim to take their victim alive, presumably to let him know why he's being killed. Call it a form of mental torture.

  They'd get no satisfaction from blowing a man to pieces with a bomb."

  "Why not open the bag and 'ave a look inside?" suggested Copper practically.

  "I'm tempted to do that," confessed Gimlet, "but if we did it might upset their plan.

  Things are going so well that I hesitate to risk spoiling them. I thought we should have to go out hunting for these fellows; instead, it seems that they are hunting for us. That should save us a lot of trouble. They've started by planting a case on us. That means something is going to happen here, probably to-night. The question is what? The easiest way to find out is to wait and see. If, as I say, something is going to happen here, the Nazis, with their thoroughness in matters of detail, will have it nicely timed. Meanwhile, the place will be watched, in case I should go out. Corporal, you know your way round. I suggest you make a reconnaissance outside. Be careful. It's vital that the enemy should think I'm alone here."