Deadlight-Hall(40)
Footsteps – not the slow, difficult steps we had heard earlier, but firm, heavy footsteps ringing out on the cold stones.
There was no time to think who the footsteps might belong to, or how we would deal with this new situation, because he was already there, stepping through the narrow opening in the wall. And this was no elusive, amorphous shadow spun from spider webs, or forlorn figure calling for two lost girls; this was a solidly built man in his forties, with a jowly face and small mean eyes. And in his hand was a gun which he was pointing at us.
He said, ‘Sch?nbrunn. They told me you were coming.’
At his smoothest and most urbane, Sch?nbrunn said, ‘My companion and I are merely exploring this unusual building.’
‘We’ll forget the rubbish about you being travellers or men from some nameless ministry,’ said the man. ‘I know perfectly well who you are.’ He studied Sch?nbrunn for a moment. Me he seemed to hardly notice. He said, ‘It’s a remarkable moment to meet such a well-known figure. You aren’t in the least what I was expecting.’
Sch?nbrunn said, politely, ‘You, on the other hand, conform exactly to the pattern of Nazi spies. Even to the stench. Corrupt and rotten.’
His voice was polite and not emphatic, but his eyes were glowing with that reckless courage.
The other man’s eyes snapped. He said, ‘I do know why you’re here, of course. You’re here to find out what happened to the Reiss twins. I’m here to prevent you drawing attention to the fact that they disappeared – which in turn might draw attention to my own activities.’
‘May we know your name?’ said Sch?nbrunn.
‘My name is Porringer. Paul Porringer.’
The courtesy dropped from Sch?nbrunn as if it was water running off oiled feathers. In a voice like iced steel, he said, ‘Porringer, where are the Reiss girls?’
‘No longer here.’
‘I know that. Mr Porringer, we do not bandy words. You are a German sympathizer and a Nazi spy. You are also British, which makes you a traitor to your country.’ This last was said with such contempt I almost expected the man, Porringer, to shrivel. He did not, of course. ‘I suppose,’ said Sch?nbrunn, ‘that you pass here as an ordinary Englishman.’
‘I am an ordinary Englishman,’ said Porringer, at once. ‘I’ve lived here all my life. I run my family’s pharmacy business. I’m a pillar of the local church, friendly with my neighbours, and accepted by them all. None of them has the least idea of what I am. And once you’re dead, they’ll never know the truth.’
‘Ah, but “What is truth?” as jesting Pilate once asked. What, for instance, is the truth about the Reiss twins?’
‘They were wanted for research. To help with important work.’
‘We knew that already. We think you took them away, although we don’t know how.’
Sch?nbrunn waited, and Porringer, as if he could not resist boasting about his own cleverness, said, ‘Several of the children developed meningitis – they were brought here. It became a temporary isolation hospital. No one was allowed in, except for medical staff. And,’ he said, ‘a helpful chemist who had a well-stocked shop and could bring various drugs.’
‘You?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you got into Deadlight Hall?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you took the twins? Where are they now?’
I thought there was an unmistakable hesitation, and I thought Sch?nbrunn marked it as well, because he made as if to move. Then Porringer said, ‘Their whereabouts need not concern you.’ He gestured with the gun towards the furnace room. ‘And now put down the torch, let its light shine into the furnace room, then open that door and get inside.’
‘And then?’
‘And then I shall shoot you and leave your bodies down here.’
‘You’ll be found out,’ I said. ‘Our bodies will be found – it will be traced back to you.’
‘Believe me, gentlemen, I will not be found out. You won’t be found, either,’ he said. ‘No one ever comes to Deadlight Hall. After I’ve shot you, your bodies will lie down here for years, and they’ll quietly and slowly rot.’
ELEVEN
With those words, Deadlight Hall’s shadows crept nearer, and the blind dead eye seemed to peer more intently through its smeary film.
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