Текст книги "The Mediterranean Caper"

Автор книги: Clive Cussler

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17

“You seem surprised to see me, Major,” Darius murmured satanically. “I can’t tell you what a great pleasure it is to meet you again under more favorable terms.” He jammed the nasty looking Luger against Pitt’s throat “Please do not move and force me to kill you prematurely. Your quick and sudden death would only cheat me out of a great deal of personal satisfaction and pleasure. I said I had an account to settle with you and your ugly little friend; now the hour has arrived to repay my debt for the pain I have suffered at your hands or more correctly feet.”

Pitt did his damnedest to look casual. “Sorry to disappoint you but Giordino stayed home this trip.”

“Then his punishment shall be added to yours.”

Darius smiled pleasantly. then lowered the gun and calmly shot Pitt in the leg. The sharp crack of the Luger amplified to a thunderclap within the rock-walled cavern. A blow – like the thrust of a red hot poker – jerked Pitt sideways and knocked him backward two steps. Somehow, he never really knew how, he managed to remain on his feet The nine millimeter bullet had torn through the fleshy part of his thigh. missing the bone by a scant quarter of an inch and leaving a neat little reddish hole at the entrance and a slightly larger one at the exit. The burning sensation quickly left, and his leg became numb with shock, the real pain, he was sure, would soon follow.

“Come now, Darius,” von Till spoke reprovingly.

“Let us not over-indulge ourselves in crudity. We have more important matters to resolve before you pursue your little ‘eye-for-an-eye’ sport. My apologies, Major Pitt, but you must admit, you have only yourself to blame. Your well-aimed kick in such a delicate location will require Darius to limp for at least another two weeks.”

“I’m only sorry I didn’t boot him twice as hard,”

Pitt said through clenched teeth.

Von Till ignored him. He said to the men in the water: “Drop your diving equipment on the bottom, gentlemen. Then climb up on deck. Quickly, we have little time to waste.”

Thomas raised his mask and threw an if-looks-could-kill stare at von Till “We’re damn well comfortable right where we are.”

Von Till shrugged. “Very well, it seems you need an incentive.” He turned and shouted into the dim shadows of the cavern. “Hans, the lights!”

Suddenly, a string of overhead flood lights burst on, illuminating the cavern from ceiling to water. Pitt could now see that the submarine was moored to a floating dock that began at a tunnel entrance on the far wall and extended two hundred feet across the water like an enormous wooden tongue. The domed ceiling was much lower in this inner cavern as compared to the outer one, but its horizontal area was several times larger; the square footage would have easily equaled a football field. Along the right wall, on an overhanging ledge, five men stood in frozen immobility, their hands gripped on leveled machine pistols.

Each was dressed in the same style of uniform that Pitt had previously seen on von Till’s chauffeur. There was no mistaking the business-like manner in which they aimed their weapons at the men in the water.

“I think you’d better do as the man says,” Pitt advised.

The mist returned, but the burning lights kept it to a minimum, dooming any chance for escape. Spencer and Hersong climbed aboard the sub first, followed by Knight and Thomas. Woodson, as usual, was last, still clutching his camera in defiance of von Till's commands.

Knight helped Pitt off with his airtank. “Let me take a look at your leg, sir.” Gently he eased Pitt to a sitting position on the deck. Then he removed the lead weights from his weight belt and wrapped the nylon webbing around Pitt’s wound, stemming the blood flow. He looked up at Pitt and grinned. “It seems as though everytime I turn around, you’re bleeding.”

“A messy habit I can’t rid myself of lately—”

Pitt stopped short. The mist was disappearing again, and the lights had now exposed a second submarine moored on the opposite side of the dock. He surveyed both subs comparing them. The one he and his men rested on had a flush deck from stem to stern, no projections anywhere. The other sub was different; it still retained its original conning tower, a massive structure that sat on its hull like a distorted half-bubble. Three men, backs turned to the drama, behind them, were busily removing the machine guns from a shattered airplane that sat on the broad deck.

“Now I know where the yellow Albatros materialized from,” said Pitt. “An old Japanese I-Boat, capable of launching a small scout plane. They haven’t been in use since World War II.”

“Yes, a handsome specimen,” von Till said jovially. “I’m honored you could identify it. Sunk by an American destroyer off Iwo Jima in 1945, raised by Minerva Lines in 1951. I’ve found the combination of submarine and aircraft a most useful method of delivering small cargoes into areas that demand extreme discretion.”

“A handy toy for also attacking United States airfields and research ships,” Pitt added.

“Touché, Major,” von Till murmured. “At dinner the other night you guessed that the plane came from the sea. You were groping blindly, but you came much closer than you thought.”

“I can see that now.” Pitt shot a quick glance at the tunnel entrance. Two more guards leaned negligently against the walls of the opening, their machine pistols hung carelessly over their shoulders. Pitt started to say: “The antique Albatros—”

“Correction.” von Till interrupted. “A replica of an Albatros. For my purposes a slow, bi-wing aircraft was the most efficient means of landing and taking off on short fields, dark beaches, or in water beside a ship; the lower wing can, or should I say could fold downward in the shape of hydrofoil pontoons. I used the Albatros D-3 design with a more modern engine, of course, because the aerodynamics provided the perfect answer to my requirements And an old shabby looking airplane would never be suspected of shall we say, slightly illegal activities. A pity it will never fly again.”

Von Till pulled a box of cigarettes from his breast pocket and lit one. Then he went on.

“My delivery plane was never meant to be armed or flown in combat It was only after I had no alternative but to assault Brady Field and your precious research ship that I had the guns installed; a drastic move perhaps but your Commander Gunn refused to be discouraged by my subtle efforts to sabotage his expedition. There was little to fear from a Sunday swimmer or a diving tourist discovering my little underwater modus operandi However, a trained ocean scientist, that was something else again. I could not take the risk. The raid was, I am still convinced, an excellent plan.

Colonel Lewis would have had no choice but to order the its name escapes me, ah yes, the First Attempt to evacuate the Thasos coast if the attack had continued unhindered. You couldn’t have known, of course, that the Albatros intended to make a token strafing run against the ship immediately after it neutralized the airfield. Inopportunely, Major Pitt, you blundered onto the scene and ruined everything.”

“The fortunes of war,” Pitt offered sarcastically.

“It is a shame Willie cannot be here to hear you say that.”

“Where is good old peeping-Tom Willie?” Pitt asked.

“Willi was the pilot,” von Till answered. “When the Albatros crashed into the sea, poor Willie was trapped in the wreckage. He drowned before we could reach him.” Von Till’s face abruptly became hard and menacing. “It seems you cost me my chauffeur and pilot as well as my dog.”

“Gullibility on Willie’s part,” Pitt said quietly. “I suckered him with the same old balloon trick that the British used on Kurt Heibert. As to the dog, before you sic another one of your hydrophobic bitches on your next unsuspecting dinner guest, I suggest you count your table utensils.”

Von Till looked at Pitt curiously for a moment Then he nodded knowingly. “Remarkable, quite remarkable. You killed my champion hound with a knife from my own dinner table. Most ungracious of you, Major, to say the least May I ask how you were forewarned?”

“Premonition,” Pitt replied. “No more, no less. You should never have tried to kill me. That was your first mistake.”

“It is a pity your escape from the labyrinth only prolonged your existence by a few hours.”

Pitt nonchalantly glanced past von Till and Darius.

The ominous black tunnel was now strangely empty; the two guards had disappeared. Not so the five guards who lined the cavern wall with the machine pistols – they looked as menacing as ever.

“Your reception committee leads me to believe you were expecting us,” Pitt murmured quietly.

“Of course we were expecting you,” von Till acknowledged matter-of-factly. “Good friend Darius here informed me of your impending arrival. The exact time became apparent when the First Attempt began acting suspiciously; no captain in his right mind would run his ship that close-in to the Thasos cliffs.”

“How many pieces of silver did it take for Darius to turn traitor?”

“The exact sum wouldn’t be of interest to you,” said von Till. “The fact is. Darius has been in my employ for ten years. You might say that our association has proved to be quite mutually rewarding.”

Pitt stared into Darius' coal-black eyes. “No matter how you slice it. it still add up to treason. That’s your second mistake, von Till Hiring a slimey cockroach of a bastard like Darius. it’s bound to backfire.”

Darius shivered in involuntary rage. The Luger protruded from his massive fist as if it were a mutant growth extension, and it was aimed unsteadily at Pitt’s navel.

Von Till shook his head tiredly. “Antagonizing Darius will only make you very, very dead.”

“What’s the difference. You’re going to kill all of us anyway.”

“Premonition again. Major? It serves you well.” Von Till spoke cheerfully. Too cheerfully to suit Pitt.

“I hate surprises,” Pitt said caustically. “How and when?”

With a practiced flourish, von Till pushed back his sleeves and carefully studied the dial of his watch. “In eleven minutes to be exact. That is all the time I can afford.”

“Why not now?” Darius growled. “Why wait? We have other business at hand.”

“Patience Darius,” von Till chided. “You’re not thinking. We can use the extra hands to load our supplies on board the submarine.” He gazed down at Pitt and smiled “Because of your wound. Major you’re excused. The rest of your men can begin by carrying the equipment you see on the dock into the forward hatch.”

“We don’t work for butchers,” Pitt spoke softly and evenly.

“Very well, if you insist.” Von Till beamed at Darius. “Shoot away his left ear. With your next bullet, take off his nose. After that his—”

“Stow it, you sadistic old hun.” The words fairly spat from Woodson’s lips. “We’ll load your goddamned pigboat.”

They had no choice. Pitt had no choice. He could only sit by helplessly and watch as Spencer and Hersong began attacking a small mountain of wooden crates on the dock and passing them to Knight and Thomas on the sub. Woodson vanished into the hatch; only his arms, rising occasionally above the deck to receive a crate, revealed his whereabouts.

The burning sensation returned to Pitt's leg in earnest now. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn that a microscopic little man was running back and forth through his wound with a flamethrower. One or twice he nearly blacked out; each time he fought desperately to hold on until the engulfing waves of darkness subsided. On sheer will power alone he kept his voice on a conversational tone.

“You only answered the when half of my question, von Till.”

“Does the method of your demise really matter that much to you?’

“Like I said. I hate surprises.”

Von Till studied Pitt in cold speculation, then he shrugged. “I suppose it does no harm to hide the inevitable.” He paused to check his watch again. “You and your men will be shot A bit barbaric and ruthless, I grant, but I prefer to think of it as a rather humane death, especially when compared to being buried alive.”

Pitt thought for a moment “The loading of supplies and equipment. those men removing the guns from the wrecked Albatros, it all spells get-away. You’re folding your tent, von Till, and stealing off into the night Then after you’ve left, one minute, five minutes, maybe even half an hour. explosive charges will detonate and seal the cavern under tons of rock, entombing the six of us and erasing all evidence of your underwater smuggling operation.”

Von Till looked at Pitt in puzzled suspicion. “Go on, Major. I find your assumptions extremely fascinating.”

“You’re running on a tight time schedule, and you’re running scared. Under our feet, beneath this dock, rests a hundred and thirty tons of heroin – loaded into the sub at Shanghai and carried across the Indian Ocean and through the Suez Canal by a Minerva Lines freighter. I have to hand it to you; anyone else would have tried to sneak the heroin into the United States through the backdoor without fanfare. Not so Bruno von Till. BBD&O together with J. Walter Thompson and all the other agencies on Madison Avenue couldn’t have created a more professional job of advertising the Queen Artemisia’s illegal cargo and final destination. It was shrewd thinking. Even though INTERPOL agents have finally unriddled your underwater transportation, it makes little difference. All their eyes are still trained on the Queen Artenusia.

Do you follow me?”

They stood mute and offered no affirmative or negative reply. “As Darius has undoubtedly informed you,” Pitt went on, “Inspector Zacynthus and the Bureau of Narcotics are currently wasting their time and efforts in preparing a trap for the ship when it reaches Chicago. I shudder to think of the four letter words that will fall on Lake Michigan when they discover nothing but the ship’s crew wearing their best actor’s smiles and the holds filled with nothing but the cocoa from Ceylon.”

Pitt paused and shifted his throbbing leg to a more comfortable position. He noticed that Knight and Thomas had joined Woodson below the hatch. Then he continued.

“It must be a great source of satisfaction to know that INTERPOL has taken your bait, hook, line and sinker. They’re totally unaware that the sub and the heroin were dropped here last night in order to be transferred to the next Minerva Line’s ship that happens past; which, by the way, should be the Queen Jocasta, bound for New Orleans with a cargo of Turkish tobacco and due to drop anchor a mile off shore in approximately ten minutes. That’s why you’re running scared, von Till. Time has caught up with you, and you have to gamble on a rendezvous with your ship in broad daylight,”

“You have a vivid imagination,” von Till said contemptuously. But Pitt could see the lines of concern in the old man’s face. “There is absolutely no way you can prove your wild theories.”

Pitt ignored his words. He said: “Why should I bother? I’m going to die in a few minutes anyway.”

“You have a point. Major,” von Till said slowly. “I compliment you. Your perception is excellent. I see no harm in admitting that you are correct in everything you have said. with one exception: The Queen Jocasta will not dock in New Orleans. At the last minute, it will alter course for Galveston, Texas.”

The three men on the other sub had removed the guns from the Albatros and mysteriously dropped out of sight. Hersong stepped off the dock and passed a crate through the hatch to Spencer. who had now vanished into the hull with Thomas, Knight and Woodson. Pitt spoke quickly. He needed every second now.

“One question before Darius gets carried away. Out of old world courtesy. you can’t deny me that.”

Darius stood there. his evil face masked with murderous intent. He looked like a sadistic kid in a biology class who could hardly wait to dissect a frog.

“Very well, Major,” von Till said conversationally.

“What is it?”

“How will the heroin be distributed after it's unloaded in Galveston?”

Von Till smiled. “One of my lesser known business ventures is a small fleet of fishing boats; not a financially rewarding venture, I might add, but one that becomes quite useful at times. At the moment, my boats are dropping their nets in the Gulf of Mexico, awaiting my signal When it comes, they will raise their nets and arrive in port at the exact same moment as the Queen Jocarta. The rest is simple: the ship releases the submarine, which is in turn led by the fishing boats to a cannery. The cargo is then unloaded under the building, and the heroin is packed into cans labeled catfood. I must say, it is ironic; all that powder being shipped into every one of your fifty states in catfood cans. The joke is on the Bureau of Narcotics. By the time their suspicions are aroused, it will be too late. The heroin will have already been received and carefully hidden. Admit it, Major. doesn’t the prospect of all that heroin being smelled, swallowed, or injected by millions of your own countrymen shock your holier-than-thou Yankee moral standards?”

Now Pitt was smiling. “It might, if it ever came to pass.”

Von Till’s eyes narrowed. Pitt wasn’t acting like a doomed man. Something very definitely was off key.

“It will come to pass. I promise you that.”

“Millions of people,” Pitt said wonderingly. “You stand there with a smile on your ugly mouth and openly boast of the misery you’re going to extract from millions of people for a few lousy dollars.”

“Hardly a few dollars. Major. I think half a billion dollars would be a closer figure.

“You’ll never live to count it, much less spend it.”

“And who is going to stop me? You, Major? Inspector Zacynthus? Possibly a lightning bolt from the sky?”

“Wishing will make it so.”

“I’ve had enough of his stupid words,” Darius said bitterly. “Now – now let him pay for his arrogance.”

The supremely grotesque face was a cloud of black malevolence. Pitt didn’t like the look he didn’t like the look at all. He could almost feel Darius’ finger tighten around the trigger of the Luger.

“Come now,” Pitt said slowly. “Killing me now wouldn’t be sporting. My eleven minutes aren’t up yet.”

Actually to Pitt, it seemed he had been talking for hours.

Von Till stood silent for several seconds and toyed with his cigarette Then he said: “There is one point that intrigues me, Major. Why did you kidnap my niece?”

Pitt’s lips tightened to a sly grin. “To begin with, she’s not your niece.”

Darius’ face went blank. “You – you could not have known.”

“I knew,” said Pitt evenly. “Unlike you, von Till, I didn’t have the benefit of an informer, but I knew. All in all, Zacynthus gave it a good try, but his plan was headed for failure right from the start. He hid the genuine niece away in a safe place in England and found

another girl who resembled her. They hardly had to be

exact doubles since you hadn’t laid eyes on the real Teri in over twenty years. Zacynthus also carefully planned his Mata Hari's cross country vacation to look like nothing more than an innocent surprise holiday visit by a loving relative.”

Darius stared at von Till, his massive jaw seeming to grind Pitt’s revelation to pieces, Von Till’s expression didn’t change. He just slowly nodded in apparent understanding.

“Too bad,” Pitt said, “it was all for nothing. You weren’t the least bit surprised. Darius had seen to that.

At that point, you had two choices; you could either expose the girl as an impostor and throw her out, or you could play along and feed her false information. Quite naturally your devious mind chose the latter.

You were in your element. You felt like a puppeteer pulling strings. You could now play the girl and Darius on the ends against Zacynthus and Zeno in the middle.”

“An irresistible situation,” said von Till. “Do you agree?”

“You couldn’t miss,” Pitt went on calmly “From the time of her arrival until Giordino and I grabbed her from the villa, the girl’s every move was closely watched by your chauffeur. Under the guise of a sort of bodyguard; Willie stuck with her like a leech. It must have been entertaining work, especially when she sunbathed on the beach. At that, her passion for early morning swimming was nothing but a means of making contact with Zacynthus. It was the only opportunity you gave her to pass him information, all of it worthless. How you must have laughed, knowing she was swallowing every bit of crap you fed her. Then something happened and Zacynthus began to get wise. Arriving late for their rendezvous one morning, he probably spotted Willie lurking in the bushes, both eyes unerringly focused on the girl in her bikini.

Zacynthus couldn’t help wondering if Willie had been there observing all the other predawn meetings.

Suddenly he saw his well-conceived plan going down the drain. It looked as though you had outsmarted him again.”

“We could have regained the advantage,” Darius sputtered in pure rage, “except for you.”

Pitt shrugged. “Enter our hero, yours truly, who blundered onto the stage, little knowing he would get clawed, beaten and shot before the final curtain. My life would have been far less complicated if only I’d stayed in bed that morning instead of taking an early swim. When Teri discovered me, I was taking a nap on the tideline. It was still dark, and she mistook me for Zacynthus, thinking one of your men had murdered him. She damn near went into shock when my apparently lifeless body suddenly sat upright and started a light conversation?

The pain wave hit him again and he gripped his leg as if trying to squeeze the agony away. He forced himself to go on, his words strained through gritted teeth.

“Something had gone very – very wrong. Zacynthus failed to show, and here was a total stranger who seemingly knew nothing about what was going on – add to that the staggering odds against an outsider accidentally swimming on that particular deserted beach at four in the morning, and you have one confused girl. I’ll give her credit, she’s a fast thinker. Considering the circumstances, she grabbed at the only conclusion open to her.

I had to be on your payroll, von Till. So she went through her carefully rehearsed biography routine and invited me to the villa for dinner, expecting to throw you a curve by innocently introducing you to your own hired man.”

Von Till smiled, “I am afraid you cooked your own goose, my dear Pitt, with your ridiculous tale about being in charge of garbage collecting. She didn’t really believe it, but oddly enough I did.”

“Not as odd as it seems,” Pitt said. “No trained agent in his right mind would ever use a cover as hokey as that one. You knew that. Besides, you had no cause for alarm; there was no warning from Darius. It was really only a joke on my part – one that backfired with rather painful results.”

Pitt hesitated, adjusting the belt covering his wound.

“When I appeared at your door wearing the oak leaves of a major. you immediately figured I was one of Zacynthus’ agents, whom he slipped into the act without Darius’ knowledge. Unwittingly I added fuel to your suspicions by damn near coming out and accusing you of enginering the raid on Brady Field. I was getting warm, too warm to suit you, von Till. Your solution was to play Houdini and make me disappear.

The risk of exposure was small, the chances were that my body, or what was left of it, would never be found in the labyrinth By this time the girl caught onto the fact that she had made a terrible mistake. I really was an innocent bystander who really happened to be swimming on that particular beach at four in the morning.

It was too late, the damage was done. She could do nothing but stand by helplessly and keep her mouth shut while you disposed of me.”

Von Till looked thoughtful. “I think l see, I see indeed. You still assumed the girl was my niece, and you kidnapped her out of revenge.”

“You’re half right,” Pitt came back. “Information was my other motive. When someone tries to kill me, I like to know why. Except for you, my only source for the answer was the girl. But Colonel Zeno appeared outside the labyrinth and put a crimp in my plan before I had a chance to question her Even so, as matters turned out, I did Inspector Zacynthus a big favor.”

“I fail to understand,” Darius said icily.

“For Zacynthus the abduction was made to order; the girl’s usefulness was over, and, as long as she continued to play the role of your niece. her life wasn’t worth two cents. Somehow, he had to discreetly slip her away from the villa and off the island. As it turned out, I played into his hands and laid her at his feet on a silver platter. However, Zacynthus wasn’t out of the woods yet. A new and totally unexpected pair of problems faced him: Giordino and myself. He knew we were out to get your scalp, and, as much as he liked the idea, he still had to stop us. Legally, he had no jurisdiction and couldn’t detain us by force.

So be did the next best thing and asked us to cooperate with INTERPOL That way be could watch us like a hawk.”

“You are quite correct. Major.” Von Till ran a hand over his hairless pate, wiping the moisture from the gleaming skin. “I had every intention of killing the girl.”

Pitt nodded. “I wondered why Zacynthus was so insistent that I keep Teri on board the First Attempt.

She’d be safe from you, and could keep an eye on Giordino and me. It didn’t dawn on me until this morning what game the girl was playing and whose side she was on.”

Darius stared at Pitt in bleak puzzlement. “What goes on here. Major Pitt? You could not possibly have known all this.”

“Nice girls don’t carry twenty-five caliber automatic Mausers taped to their legs,” Pitt said. “That’s a sure sign of a professional. Teri wasn’t carrying a gun when I met her on the beach – Giordino discovered it when he snatched her off the couch in the villa’s study.

Obviously, she feared someone inside, not outside the villa.”

“You are even more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” von Till said bitterly. “I may have slightly underestimated you. But it makes little or no difference on the outcome.”

“Only slightly underestimated?” Pitt asked consideringly. “I wonder If I've been wise to the girl’s deception, why do you think I’d stand by and allow her to drug the First Attempt’s radio operator so that she could sneak off a message to Inspector Zacynthus, announcing my intention to explore the cavern?”

"The answer is simple,” von Till said smugly. “You didn’t know Darius was working for me. He received the girl’s message. but, unfortunately for you, neglected to pass it on to Inspector Zacynthus. Face it, Major, you got involved with matters far above your head.”

Pitt didn’t reply immediately. He sat quite still, absorbing the pain that burned in his leg, wondering if now was the right moment. It would be impossible to go on much longer – his vision was beginning to blur around the edges – yet he couldn’t overplay his hand. He turned his head slightly and stared dully up at Darius. The Luger still aimed at Pitt’s navel. This had to be it, he told himself – he hoped to God his timing was right.

“I agree,” he said casually. “It just goes to prove, you can’t win them all, can you, Admiral Heibert?’

At first von Till didn’t respond. He stood there, his face without expression. Then the sheen incredibility of Pitt’s words began to register. He took a step toward Pitt, his mouth barely moving.

“What – what did you call me?” he asked in a tight whisper.

"Admiral Heibert,” Pitt repeated. “Admiral Erich

Heibert: Commander of Nazi Germany’s transportation fleet; fanatical follower of Adolph Hitler; and brother of Kurt Heibert, the World War II ace.”

What little color was left drained from his face. “You – you have lost your senses.”

“The U-19, that was your final mistake.”

“Nonsense, utter nonsense.” The tight lips spoke low and unbelieving.

“The model in your study. It struck me as strange at the time; why would an ex-combat pilot display a replica of a submarine instead of the aircraft he flew during wartime? Pilots are as sentimental about those things as sailors. It didn’t figure. The ultimate irony is that Darius, not knowing your true identity, used Inspector Zacynthus’ radio to contact the German naval archives in Berlin at my request.”

“So that was what you were after,” Darius said, his eyes still watchful.

“It was handled as a routine inquiry. I asked for a crew list of the U-19. I also contacted an old friend in Munich – a World War I aviation buff – and asked him if he knew of any flyer by the name of Bruno von Till. The replies were most interesting. A von Till actually flew for the German Imperial Air Service all right But you claimed to have flown with Kurt Heibert in Jasta 73 out of the Xanthi aerodrome in Macedonia. The real von Till flew with Jasta in France from the summer of 1917 until the Armistice in November of 1918; he never left the Western Front. The next intriguing tid-bit was the first name on the U-19’s crew roster – a Commander Erich Heibert. Being an Inquisitive cuss, I didn’t stop there. I radioed Berlin again, this time from the ship, and asked them to send all available information on Erich Heibert. That did it – I couldn’t have created a bigger stir with the German authorities If I’d resurrected Hider, Goering and Himmler all in one swoop.”

“Sheer babble – he’s delirious.” The shrewd, Calculating Fu Manchu look had returned to the old German’s face. “No one in their right mind would believe such a ridiculous fairytale. A model submarine – hardly a valid connection between me and Heibert.”

“I don’t have to prove anything. The facts speak for themselves. When Hitler took power you became his devoted follower. In return for your loyalty, and in recognition of your previous valuable combat experience, he promoted you to Officer Commanding Transportation Fleet; a title you held throughout the war until just before Germany’s surrender when you seem to have vanished.”

“That has nothing to do with me,” von Till said angrily.

“You’re wrong,” Pitt returned. “The real Bruno von Till married the daughter of a wealthy Bavarian businessman who, among other interests, owned a small fleet of merchant ships – ships that sailed under the flag of Greece. Von Till knew a good thing when he saw it He took out Greek citizenship papers and became Managing Director of Minerva Lines. Financially the company was a loser, but he built it into a first class carrier fleet by smuggling arms and essential war materials into Germany in direct violation of the Versailles Treaty.