End of Spies by Alex Gerlis (best free ereader txt) 📗

even given up his rooms in London.

Bourne opened the door a few inches.

‘I walked past the front and saw that the gallery was open. Is anyone else in there?’

‘Just Ridgeway and myself, sir.’

‘Close the gallery and let me in.’

Once inside the cramped office, the Admiral removed his hat and unfurled his scarf. He took the seat behind Bourne’s desk, still wearing his overcoat, though he did unbutton it. Only when he’d removed his leather gloves did he look up at the two men standing obediently in front of him.

‘We may have a problem, gentlemen.’

Bourne and Ridgeway looked anxiously at each other, unsure whether to remain standing or to sit down.

‘May I ask the nature of that problem, Admiral?’

‘The messages one gets from the Continent are of course by definition sporadic and often imprecise.’ He paused to straighten his gloves. ‘But there would appear to be two developments, both of which are a cause for concern. Why don’t you sit down?’

He waited for Bourne and Ridgeway to arrange their chairs in front of the desk.

‘Wolfgang has disappeared and there are reports that he may now be in East Berlin.’

‘The Soviet sector?’

‘Obviously, Ridgeway – but remember, this isn’t confirmed. If it is true, I have absolutely no idea why he’s there or how the hell he got there, but I do know that he’s not been heard from in a while. And the news from Trieste is even more confusing. The ship is still in port, but according to its master the passengers: have moved from the warehouse to another location and he’s getting very nervous. He was meant to sail tomorrow and he’s now agreed to wait until Monday, but no later than that. I’m suspicious about the whole business…’

‘What about Palmer?’

‘Exactly, Bourne – what about Palmer indeed? It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if we’re in the process of being outsmarted by that menace Prince and the bloody Danish woman. If they catch Palmer, I don’t trust him to keep quiet, and that means all of us are in serious trouble. I knew we should have got rid of him as soon as he turned up out of the blue in August. I regret letting Myrtle talk me out of it. One can only hope she knows what to do if they’re in danger of being caught.’

‘May I ask what that is, Admiral?’

‘She will ensure Palmer does not pose a problem. In the meantime, gentlemen, my advice to you is to disappear for a while, at least until we know what’s happened.’

‘But Admiral… the gallery…’ Ridgeway’s voice trembled. He looked petrified, and Bourne was little better, anxiously wiping his forehead and apparently on the verge of tears.

‘Pull yourselves together and forget about the bloody gallery and your miserable paintings. I presume you made arrangements for such an eventuality, as I told you to?’

The pair nodded uncertainly.

‘You’re to leave now. Call me in the middle of next week and I’ll let you know if the coast is clear.’

‘And if it’s not?’

The Admiral stood up and started to button his overcoat. ‘If the coast isn’t clear, then I very much doubt I’ll be answering the telephone.’

Chapter 29

Italy, December 1945

They slipped away from Klagenfurt at around a quarter past three on the Wednesday morning, not long after Ludwig had appeared in their hotel room. He’d waited in the corridor while Prince and Hanne dressed, during which time they had an urgent whispered conversation, with Prince worried that defying orders like this could be regarded as desertion – or even treason. ‘What do you think, Hanne?’

‘If you’re so concerned, then let’s call the whole thing off. Tell him we’re not going.’

‘But do you think we should go?’

‘Of course I do! There’s a group of Nazis in Trieste and we shouldn’t allow them to go free. I just hope it’s not too late.’

‘But going off with the Russians like this…’

‘Richard – how are we going to get into trouble for trying to catch Nazis?’

Ludwig led them to the end of the corridor and up a small flight of stairs, where a ladder attached to the wall led to a trapdoor to the roof. Klagenfurt was quite still and eerily silent, with just enough moonlight for them to see where they were going. They followed him over the rooftops until they were well away from the hotel, and only then did they descend: a precarious climb down a drainpipe, a short drop onto a terrace followed by a six-foot jump onto a pile of rubble, from where he led them the short distance to an alley where his black Daimler was parked.

He told them to sit in the back of the car and pointed to two large blankets. ‘Cover yourselves, pretend to be asleep.’

‘But there’s a curfew: don’t you think we’re going to be a bit conspicuous?’

Ludwig shrugged and said not to worry: Mach dir keine Sorgen. When he started the engine, the sound seemed to reverberate throughout the town.

They drove through the dark streets, Ludwig appearing to be quite relaxed as he hummed a tune. He kept muttering Mach dir keine Sorgen over and over to himself, and then chuckling.

On the outskirts, they came to a British Army checkpoint. Ludwig stopped humming and reminded them to pretend to be asleep. The checkpoint was remarkably straightforward. Prince and Hanne clutched each other tightly, their hearts banging so loudly they were sure the soldiers must have heard. They heard a voice ask in English-accented German for papers, which Ludwig must have had ready, because the soldier quickly said everything was in order and they could carry on.

Ludwig wound the window up and slipped the Daimler into gear, accelerating away from the checkpoint. He resumed humming whatever tune it was and turned round to address his passengers again with a smile: Mach dir keine Sorgen.

Once they’d passed Ferlach – and another oddly trouble-free checkpoint – Ludwig slowed down. He told them he didn’t want to cross the Alps before daylight, so they waited by the side