9.
‘We need to mobilise,’ Jim said
tersely.
It was well past one a.m. There was no
point in waking Barney and Willy. There was nothing they could do at
this time. They needed to be fresh to continue their efforts to reach
Bauer’s safe in the morning. But Cinnamon was in danger. Liesl was
in danger. She might already be dead. But he couldn’t go to her.
That would be running straight into their hands. No matter how much
guilt Jim felt welling inside him, he couldn’t compromise the
mission any further to go after a girl he had formed an attachment
to.
‘You want me to signal Cinnamon?’
Rollin asked, glancing at the little radio that was sitting on the
table near Jim’s hand.
Jim shook his head, rubbing his thumb
over his lip.
‘Too risky. She might be with him
right now. If he already suspects, that would confirm everything for
him.’
‘Then how are we going to get her
out?’
Jim sighed. ‘Unless she calls us, we
don’t. Not right now – not unless we know she’s
in danger. There’s no excuse for turning up at Bauer’s house in
the middle of the night to get her out. Did she give you a
film tonight, Rollin?’
Rollin nodded concisely. ‘I developed
it just an hour ago. Plenty of evidence there. All we need, in fact.
There are some perfect images I can run with the Berlin Daily, and
other more – explicit – ones we can hold back as evidence for any
indictment.’
‘So she doesn’t need to be there
any longer.’
‘Well, she still might get a chance
to take some snaps of his records,’ Rollin shrugged, ‘but no,
it’s not vital any more. Not now we have this.’
Jim nodded and looked up, fixing his
eyes on Rollin’s face. He felt exhausted, but so wide awake he
couldn’t conceive of sleeping.
‘You think you can get in there in
the daytime, in your cover as the reporter? She won’t be out at the
club again until the evening. That may be too late.’
Rollin nodded. ‘I can do my best,’
he said openly. ‘Jim – what about Liesl Weismuller?’ he asked
gravely.
‘What about her?’ Jim asked
tersely, rolling up his sleeves and casting about for another
cigarette.
‘You’re not going to just leave
her.’
‘No,’ Jim said heavily. ‘No, I
can’t just leave her.’
‘Don’t get yourself killed,’
Rollin said seriously. ‘Not for something like this.’
‘I never have any intention of
getting myself killed,’ Jim replied. ‘Never.’
He sat in the chair, smoking cigarette
after cigarette, drinking coffee and then drinking scotch, and then
coffee again. After a time Rollin pleaded exhaustion and retired to
his room, and Jim sat alone, in the light of one small table lamp, a
cigarette between his lips and his eyes focussed on middle distance,
thinking. It didn’t matter how long he sat. He needed to work
something out. Tomorrow he could run on coffee and adrenaline. It
wasn’t as if he hadn’t pulled a few all-nighters before.
******
In the end he did sleep, just for a few
hours, with his mind so wired with coffee and inter-meshing thoughts
that his dreams were almost constant. He woke with a start, finding
himself still in the armchair in the main room, a blanket over his
knees and a glimmer of light just starting up through the window
opposite.
He unfolded himself from the chair,
instantly alert, and stalked through into his bedroom to look through
the curtains at the windows opposite. Liesl’s apartment was dark,
the curtains closed. There was no sign of movement. No sign of life.
He stood there and stared at the glass
panes, sometimes focussing on the windows across the street,
sometimes focussing on the dirty pane just a few inches from his
eyes. There had to be a way to get Liesl out – if she was still
there. And Cinnamon. Cinnamon had to be the priority. She was
trusting her team to get her out safely. There had to be some
way of ensuring the safety of both women.
He stood looking down into the snowy
street, watching as the first few pedestrians of the day tried their
luck on the treacherous sidewalks. A woman came out of a doorway with
a brush and started to sweep away snow. A couple of state police
walked with confidence across the road in their heavy boots. A van
drew to a halt and a man came out with what looked like a tray of
loaves, heading for a store just a few doors down from the apartment
building.
And then it clicked in his mind. It was
so brash and so outrageous that it would work. It would have to work.
He turned and went through into
Rollin’s room. He was sprawled asleep in his bed, the blankets and
sheets pulled up over his shoulders against the chill in the room.
‘Rollin,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Rollin.’
Rollin turned and muttered, and then
sat upright, his eyes wide open. ‘What is it, Jim? What time is
it?’
‘Half past six. Rollin, I’ve got a
plan,’ he said. ‘A way to get Cinnamon out, and a way to get
Liesl out too, if I can.’
‘Tell me what you need, Jim,’
Rollin said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Jim pursed his lips together. ‘I need
a uniform for an officer ranked Polizeidirektor or higher, and a
uniform for his subordinate, and I need them within the hour. I need
them to fit you and me. I’m ditching the plan for you to go in as
the reporter. You’re coming with me as my backup. Can you get
them?’
‘I can get them,’ Rollin said.
Jim half smiled. There was no moment of
hesitation, no look of shock at what was expected of him. Just, I
can get them.
‘What
are you going to do?’ Rollin asked.
‘I’m
going to walk right into Bauer’s house, and I’m going to take
Cinnamon out of there,’ he said. ‘And when you go over the border
to Berlin to pass on your article about Bauer’s brothels to the
Berlin Daily, you’re going to take Liesl Weismuller with you.’
Rollin nodded.
Again, there was no moment of doubt, no questions. Just the nod.
‘I’ll
go put the coffee and some toast on for you,’ Jim said, as Rollin
swung his legs out of bed.
Jim went back into
the main room and set the water to boiling and slipped a few slices
of bread under the grill, then he went into his room and opened his
suitcase. Inside the lining of the lid was a concealed pocket, and in
the pocket, flush against the hard outer shell of the case, were a
number of passports and identify cards all made up by Barney before
they had left New York. He pulled them out and flicked through them.
There were a couple of varying ranks for the Barnstadt police
department. Which one he chose would depend on the uniform that
Rollin could acquire.
He slipped the
papers back into the lid of the case, and went out into the corridor
and down to Willy and Barney’s room. He knocked discreetly on the
door, and it was opened almost instantly by Willy.
Jim slipped into
the room without speaking. Barney was there sitting at the table
drinking coffee. Willy was half-dressed in his workman’s clothes,
buttoning up his overalls over a clean white undershirt.
‘We’ll
be out in a few minutes, Jim,’ Barney said to him, then paused.
‘Trouble?’
‘Could
be,’ Jim nodded. ‘Cinnamon’s cover may be compromised. Barney,
can you print me up a warrant for entry to Bauer’s house, and an
arrest warrant for Cinnamon?’
Barney’s eyes
widened momentarily, then he nodded. ‘Can do. I’ve got the
equipment in the other room. How soon do you want them?’
‘Now,’
Jim said concisely.
Barney
looked at him, blowing his breath out through his lips, but said
nothing.
‘Jim,
what happened?’ Willy asked in concern.
Jim hesitated. He
wasn’t eager to talk about what had gone on last night, about how
he had let his feelings possibly bring the whole mission down, but
the team deserved to know.
‘Have
you eaten?’ Barney asked him, and as Jim shook his head Barney
tossed over a buttered roll. ‘Eat that. I’ll get working on the
warrants.’
Jim nodded, biting
into the fresh roll. Until he swallowed he didn’t realise how
hungry he had been. As Barney went to get his equipment he explained
quickly and quietly something of what had happened the night before.
‘Are
we all right to continue tunnelling?’ Willy asked in concern.
‘No
problem there,’ Jim nodded. ‘If anything, this will distract him
from the club. You’ll get to the safe today?’
‘We
should get close,’ Willy told him. ‘But it’s a lot of dirt.
Won’t be able to get into it until tomorrow, probably.’
Jim nodded again.
‘On schedule. Well, I’ve got to go get a car,’ he said, pushing
the rest of the roll into his mouth and brushing the crumbs from his
lips. ‘Barney, leave those documents in my apartment. I’ll pick
them up when I get back. ASAP, right?’
‘ASAP,’
Barney nodded. ‘You’ll have them, Jim.’
******
Out on the streets
the air was so cold that it seemed to burn Jim’s tired eyes. It
pushed into his hands and feet and threatened to steal all his
energy. But he didn’t have a lot to do – not like Rollin. Rollin
was tracking down uniforms, and whether he did that by stealing them
from a closet or taking them directly from someone wearing them, it
was going to be a risky business.
It was no trouble to rent a car at such short notice – not with the amount of money Jim could flash at the man in the rental office. He found himself in charge of a big black saloon Mercedes, that looked polished and expensive enough to belong to an important officer. He drove back to the apartment with great care on the treacherous roads, and found the warrant papers neatly placed in the centre of the table by Barney. They looked perfect.
When Rollin came in a few minutes later he was holding a bag in one hand, and smiling broadly.
‘Who did you have to knock out for those?’ Jim asked, taking the bag from him and looking inside.
‘A couple of officers in the Police Headquarters,’ Rollin told him, hurriedly pulling the uniforms out of the bag. ‘We’ll have to move fast, Jim, and change fast after we’ve got the girls out. The men I drugged will be safe until at least this evening – they won’t wake up – but someone will be sure to miss them, and when Bauer calls in to complain about the warrants they won’t take long putting two and two together.’
‘All right,’ Jim nodded, sorting out the higher ranking uniform from the other. It looked just about the right size, and he had an identity card that would match the rank. He started to strip off his suit and shirt and pulled on the dark uniform as Rollin did the same.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, slipping his identity card into his wallet and patting Rollin on the shoulder. ‘Liesl first.’
‘You’re going to explain on the way, huh?’ Rollin asked him.
‘Not much to explain,’ Jim said with a grin. ‘We’re arresting Liesl Weismuller for acting as a prostitute. Same with Cinnamon. If we’re not attacking Bauer directly, he’s going to be a lot easier to handle.’
‘And if Fraulein Weismuller’s not there?’ Rollin asked meaningfully.
‘Then I’m going to be asking Bauer some questions,’ Jim replied grimly.