He turned back into the house for a moment and disappeared from view. He had no definite purpose in mind—it was simply that he thought he had seen a glimmer of hope in the darkness, and his subconscious had propelled him inside. He was away less than a min-
ute. When he reappeared he was holding in his out- stretched hands a small object that neither Claire nor Austin could distinguish clearly. Almost immediately he stuffed it into his pocket, keeping his fist clenched tightly around it.
A sudden beam of light illuminated the path as a car drove out of the garden of the villa beyond. Austin remembered what Gleicher had said: this was Otto leaving for Paris. The car soon vanished into the distance. From their observation post they could see Gleicher as he closed the gate before going inside. When Austin re- turned back in Arvers’ direction, he could not see him
anywhere until presently he emerged from the shadows where he had been crouching to avoid the headlights. At that instant he was clearly visible in the moonlight, and his gaze seemed to be fixed on one specific spot. His haggard face was turned in the direction of the other villa.
What had Claire reported? How much did she know, exactly? In spite of all his precautions, had he given himself away at any time during the months they had been living together, especially during the last few weeks? He could not be perpetually on guard; perhaps he might have said something in his sleep? Had she followed him to Gleicher’s without his knowing it? She was capable of anything. And if she had, she might have . . .
He uttered an obscene oath. That must be it—she had heard the recording. It made such a noise, such an infernal din; even on the telephone it made his ears ring. . . . And she had faithfully sent every word of it back to London, by means of a special code. All his enemies, both in England and in France, were now aware of the existence of the tape. To get hold of it was the sole purpose of their maneuvers, for Claire’s tittle-tattle was not enough; they had to have the material evidence in their hands. That was why Austin had come back to France, and his absence this evening assumed a deeper significance. Since Dr. Fog had ordered him to get hold of the tape at any price, naturally he had to get in touch with Gleicher, but without Arvers’ being there.
The whole situation was gradually becoming clearer with each fresh pulsation of his fevered brain. Why should they need him, after all? They were simply waiting until he had gone to bed before going off to find Gleicher and make a deal with him. Gleicher would hand over the tape as proof of his good will, only too pleased with this opportunity to do him a bad turn. It was even more than likely that the whole thing had been arranged in advance. Gleicher had been leading him on the whole time. He had been mad to trust him—how can one ever trust a German? Gleicher obviously found it more profitable to negotiate with Austin than with him. Not only did they all look upon him as a coward but they considered him to be of no account.
There was no longer any doubt in his mind. Gleicher had stayed behind alone in the villa to negotiate the deal—alone with the tape recording.
This mixture of shrewdness and wild aberration culminated in a conclusion of such logic and purity that he experienced a kind of pleasure he had not known for a long time—the certainty of having recovered the strength and all the keenness of his intellect.
His fate depended on this document and on its present owner. Right now, in a single movement his subconscious had already planned and that his mind was now beginning to analyze in detail, he could not only get hold of it but could also confound his enemies by
proving he was capable of accomplishing the most dreadful and most laudable feat of all. Theoretically, the plan was perfect. All that remained was to spur his body into action.
Well, he’d show them! The simplicity and beauty of his reasoning had kindled a fire in his flesh and muscles. To redeem his honor and at the same time compel his foes to recognize his true heroic stature just when they thought that victory was theirs—this was a prospect of intoxicating bliss, the only one acceptable to his supreme egotism, the only one that could overcome the instincts of his timid nature.
Before he could make up his mind to take the first step, the thought that had previously brought a haughty, contemptuous smile to his lips occurred to him again: Claire was absolutely devoid of perspicacity; he knew perfectly well he was capable of killing—in certain circumstances! He no longer tried to dismiss the horror from his mind. On the contrary, he derived an additional stimulation from contemplating it and, with his hand still clenched in his pocket, he strode out of the house.
30
“What on earth is he up to now?” Claire muttered in a voice that betrayed her nervous tension.
Arvers was creeping along the path toward Gleicher’s villa as silently as a ghost. He paused for a moment at the front gate, then slipped into the garden. Austin had a feeling that the final act was yet to be played and motioned to his companion. They climbed down from the pigeon loft and in their turn crept up toward the villa, keeping in the shadow of the trees. Hiding behind some bushes, they heard a muffled sound of music: Gleicher was indulging in his favorite diversion. Cautiously parting the branches, they caught sight of Arvers twenty yards away in front of the door and on the point of knocking. He had been standing there all the time they were approaching.
The phonograph record must have drowned the sound, for there was no answer. Arvers waited a minute, then knocked again, more loudly and repeatedly. The music continued, but Austin presently heard Gleicher’s voice.
“Who’s that?”
“It’s me,” said Arvers. “I thought you wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. I just wanted to let you know that my chief from London has turned up.”
The door was held ajar, then flung wide open. The light from the hall blazed out into the garden. Gleicher glanced out and gave a scornful titter as he saw Arvers standing there alone.
“You almost frightened me, Herr Arvers. I wasn’t expecting you, and all by yourself, too.”
Austin saw Arvers wince at the insult, but his only reply was to apologize for the misunderstanding.
“It’s not my fault,” he said. “His car broke down and he had to borrow a bicycle. He’s sorry he’s so late, but he would very much like to meet you now if you would
be kind enough to step over to my place.” “Otto has just left,” Gleicher grumbled. “Nevertheless, there’s no harm in having a preliminary talk. I’d like to know what he’s like. . . . But does he think
I’m at his beck and call? I’ve already inconvenienced myself once tonight.”
Arvers assumed a still
more obsequious tone.
“I don’t quite know what to say. I think he’s a bit suspicious, in spite of all I’ve told him. That’s only natural; he doesn’t know you. Besides, he thinks you’re only an intermediary. I’ve told him you’re prepared to be of service to him. Those were your own instructions.”
Gleicher peered at him intently. He hesitated for some time, remembering the conversation he had had with Otto just before the latter left for Paris. Otto had said he didn’t like the idea of leaving him there all alone, next door to a man who had every reason to hate him.
“Nonsense, Otto, I have nothing to fear from him. He hasn’t the guts to do me any harm. When the Gestapo arrested him, he didn’t lift a finger to resist them.”