Читать книгу The Crooked Olive Branch - Frederick Munn - Страница 20

Chapter 12

A limousine arrived promptly at 10.15. Their luggage loaded, complete with cheese, meats, bread rolls, water and cake, they climbed aboard.

“Landeck Bahn?” The driver sought confirmation of the destination.

“Correct,” replied Peter, asking. “How long the journey?”

“Two and a half hours, sir.”

“Another long trip, Hal. You O.K. with that?”

“In this limo I am fine, plenty of leg room,” he closed the glass partition, “and privacy.”

Miriam was soon fast asleep, her head on Hal’s lap.

Peter, unable to relax, raised the subject bothering him.

“Have you worked out the real reason for using us and splitting Miriam from the main party?”

“No Pete. What’s the beef?”

“She would be distressed that is for sure but that would apply to others also if I’m any judge.”

He felt responsible for his friend’s involvement in this mission. It had also destroyed the atmosphere which they just managed to recover from, following the Munich fiasco.

“You still don’t go with them, do you?”

“No and I reckon it’s possible that Gerda’s group are aware that the Nazi S.S. are fingering Miriam who could lead them to the cell.”

“And?” Hal paused adding, “Come on Pete, spill. There is an ‘and’ isn’t there Pete?”

“I reckon we are being used as a decoy; divorcing us from the main group gives them a better chance of getting through.”

“Which leaves us where?” Hal was both puzzled and irritated.

“Exposed and vulnerable? At the same time as giving them a better chance.”

“Come off it, Pete! They wouldn’t sacrifice a kid. If they were, why bring us and Miriam all this way? You are out of your tree. The very opposite will be the case if I am any judge.”

Neither spoke for some time until Hal, sick of Peter’s brooding paranoia, said:

“Pete, forget it. We are going to take Miriam through, and you are going to help. These suspicions don’t help in any way. We need to be positive. Have that camera ready and get ready to punch your weight.”

The driver’s estimate of two and a half hours was good. They arrived at Landeck Station on time. The driver piled the luggage on the pavement. Hal thanked and paid him cash as instructed.

Miriam clung to his trousers. Whenever Hal had a free hand, he placed it on her head.

The journey had been uneventful, but Hal was uptight. He was keyed up anyway. Peter’s nerves were getting to him. ‘What now’ he thought, ‘trains for Zurich?’

Peter stood aside like a spare part obviously feeling out of it and moody.

A porter appeared. Without instruction from either Hal or Peter, he loaded their cases on to a trolley. Speaking good English, he explained that there was a thirty-minute wait for the train and suggested that he would look after their luggage while they had coffee at a nearby café.

Half an hour later this same porter escorted them to a compartment and loaded their luggage refusing Hal’s offered tip. Hal breathed a sigh of relief as they took up reserved seats in a first-class carriage.

The First-Class compartment was a pleasant surprise.

Gerda with this and the limousine, had clearly demonstrated care and understanding.

Peter was no help, being uptight and pessimistic, still suspicious of motive.

Hal engaged with Miriam as he would any child, but more so.

Language proved not to be a barrier. Whatever Hal pointed out and named, be it a house, cow or sheep, Miriam repeated each word.

Eventually Hal was prefixing everything of interest by ‘guckmal’, copying Miriam.

Even using, ‘guckmal was ist?’ The little child was teaching Hal more German in half an hour than Peter had to date. This all helped to keep Hal’s mind occupied. The journey passed reasonably well.

Peter, largely ignored, sat in one corner brooding.

This was made worse by Hal’s preoccupation with the little girl.

Hal was aware of the problem but was unable to think of what he could do.

Every thought he came up with was countered with negativity.

When the train slowed to a stop at the border, they were forced into communicating.

“The camera Pete, get ready.”

Peter took a deep breath. “Am I supposed to be with you or not?”

“Not the time to bring that up now.”

Hal was irritated that Peter had waited until now to start a constructive discussion.

This in turn irritated Peter.

“Stow it! Hal. Am I of your party? We should have been sorting this on the way.”

“Guckmal es gibt andere kind.” Miriam announced pressing her face to the window.

Hal and Peter looked out of the window to where the little girl was pointing.

Hal understood what was said immediately.

The train had shunted into a siding across from which a line of barriers led to a custom post.

Beyond this a chain fenced area separated from the main route to the customs shed.

Corralled in this were the children and carers. Guarding the entrance, a lone sentry.

“What do you reckon Pete?” Hal was the first to comment. “I reckon that’s the other party.”

“I’m sure Hal, the taller woman is Helga, Dieter’s mother,” whispered Peter, his brain finally kicking into gear. “The bastards are stopping them Hal.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“What can we do?”

Hal thought for a moment. “Get the camera ready and take your cue from me.”

Peter gasped. “What will you do Hal if you have to hand Miriam over?”

Knowing his friend’s attachment to Miriam, Peter imagined mayhem.

“Quit that Pete, you’re freaking me out.”

Hal succeeded in sounding calm although he was anything but.

Miriam had her head pressed to the window “freaking me” she repeated.

Peter was stood trembling. Hal looked from him to Miriam. Once he saw she was all right, he thought quickly what he could do. Clearly, he needed to settle Peter before the officials appeared.

“Pete it’s O.K. so leave this to me,” he assured. “I’ll handle this. I will need your help.”

Peter was still breathing heavily and shuddering.

In a flash of inspiration Hal began to recite rhythmically. “One out, two out, three out, four out.”

Peter started to laugh even though he was short of breath.

“It’s clear you were never stroke and you would never have made cox.”

“Peter, seriously old buddy ease back, relax, you’re O.K. I need your help and I need it now.”

They could hear the officials moving down the corridor repeating at each door.

‘Passports please’ in English, French, Italian and German.

“Just sit down and relax Pete, act casual. Read a book or something.”

They could see a line of passengers being shepherded through the barriers to the customs house. First-class passengers were being allowed to remain in their compartments.

The compartment door slid open. A policeman and a customs official appeared.

“Good afternoon gentlemen, please present your passports and luggage for inspection.”