El Alamein by Jack Murray (spanish books to read .TXT) 📗

paused for a moment. His face was apoplectic. Then he did as he was ordered. It took a couple of seconds then the drawer was open. He stood back and let Brehme look. While the Police Chief did this Sammy glanced out the window. The long raincoats suggested only one thing. The men outside were almost certainly Gestapo. And they were now rushing into the station.

Brehme made an exclamation. He motioned for Sammy to come over and lock the desk drawer. A couple of agonising seconds passed as Sammy struggled to do this.

‘Hurry,’ hissed Brehme.

‘You’re the one that wanted the bloody thing open with the Gestapo outside,’ snarled Sammy.

They heard the click with relief and then immediately Sammy and Brehme darted over to the other desk. Moments later the door burst open. Ernst Keller stood in the entrance with another man that Brehme did not recognise, although he appeared to be cut from the same cloth. Keller looked from Brehme to Sammy and then back again.

‘I saw the light on in the office,’ said Keller carefully.

‘Strange time to be passing the office,’ replied Brehme, coolly. The pup behind the desk was obviously under orders to report if he ever came to the office at an unusual time. After what he’d seen in the memo he’d found, Brehme could understand why.

Keller looked once more at Sammy which made the little burglar feel distinctly like a fish staring at a hungry shark. Brehme noted Keller’s interest and decided introductions were in order.

‘Lieutenant Keller, may I introduce an informant of mine, Sammy Schneider. Sammy was once on the wrong side of the law but has thankfully seen the error of his ways and helped me on occasion with useful information.’

‘What were you discussing tonight at such a late hour?’ asked Keller. He was staring directly at Sammy. He also sensed the unease in the little man. This made him certain something was afoot. He stepped into the office accompanied by the other Gestapo officer and walked right up to Sammy, ignoring Brehme.

‘I heard something in a bar yesterday. I thought that the Chief should know.’

‘What did you hear?’

‘Black market things. Cattle,’ replied Sammy. Brehme was looking at Sammy. He hoped that Keller hadn’t noticed that he was holding his breath. The mention of cattle made Keller’s face turn a shade or three paler.

‘What things?’ asked Keller, his throat had tightened. His voice was barely a whisper.

Sammy noted this and relaxed. Brehme had been right. These crooks were running their own black-market operation.

‘I couldn’t see who was speaking and they were heading out anyway. He said something about being under the noses of the police but that’s as much as I could hear before he was out the door.’

Keller nodded, seemingly relieved. He quizzed Sammy a little more on where this had taken place and seemed satisfied the little man was speaking the truth.

‘I’m sorry to have interrupted you,’ said Keller, edging towards his desk. He sat down and glanced at the drawer. He introduced the other man, but Brehme spotted him testing the drawer to see if it was still locked. He seemed satisfied that nothing untoward had happened. Kaltz would have told them that they’d been there only a few minutes. This was not enough time to have conducted any search.

‘That’s quite all right,’ replied Brehme expansively. ‘Sammy was just leaving anyway.’

Keller stood up and shook hands with Sammy. The grip was cold and clammy. Sammy nodded to the other man and then, accompanied by Brehme, escaped out of the office with more than a sigh of relief.

‘Well-remembered,’ said Brehme to the burglar. He’d briefed him in the car coming over for just such an eventuality. They reached the exit of the police station. ‘I’ll drive you back to Heidelberg.’

Sammy shook his head. There was a shrewd look in his eyes.

‘I don’ think that would be a good idea. Best I leave you here. Did you find what you wanted?’

‘I did, Sammy,’ replied Brehme. He held out his hand. Sammy looked down at the proffered hand and gripped it. They parted without another word.

Brehme watched him walk away and then he started towards his car. He stopped and thought better of it. He had one more place to go. He couldn’t draw attention to himself with a police car. Instead, he trudged through town in the cold night air, his mind spinning with what he’d read. It wasn’t just the raids planned by the Gestapo and the SS. He knew he was about to walk off the edge of a precipice.

Just ahead he saw the house he wanted. A look around told him that he was not being followed. However, he couldn’t take chances. He ducked down an alley way and remained there for five minutes. No one appeared on the street. It was nearly midnight so there was no reason why anyone should be there on a night like this.

Moving around the back, he clambered over a garden fence and approached the back door. There were no lights on inside. This was a problem. They had probably gone to bed. The last thing he wanted to do was attract attention by banging on the door but there was nothing else for it. He rapped the door. Softly at first, then harder. This produced the effect he’d sought. A dog started to bark. A few minutes later a light came on and a figure appeared at the door. Brehme could hear the man muttering darkly on the other side of the door.

‘Open up, Otto,’ demanded Brehme in a loud whisper. The door opened slowly.

Otto Becker’s face fell in shock when he saw who it was. In a better light Brehme would have seen him turn pale. Behind him, Felix was barking the bark of a dog that doesn’t know if it should be happy or warning an intruder.

‘Herr Brehme, what are you doing here at this time of night?’ replied Becker before turning to the excited Labrador, ‘Enough, Felix.’

‘Let me in, Otto.