Read Online Hard Case Crime: Passport To Peril by Robert B. Parker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert B. Parker
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heels.
“Monsieur, I don’t know who you are. You say you’re American. You speak German like a Berliner and French like a Frenchman. I don’t know who you’re working for but I shall find out.”
The doctor’s voice had begun to rise. He came around the desk and stood a foot or two in front of me. His little pig eyes glittered behind the thick lenses.
“You are going to tell me what you did with that envelope.”
“I told you,” I said. “I hid it on the train.”
“Who did you give it to?”
“Nobody,” I said. “I’ve told you the truth.”
“Monsieur.” By this time Schmidt’s voice was out of control. “You are going to tell me what you did with that envelope, or shall I turn you over to Otto?”
There wasn’t anything for me to say.
“There are several ways I can make you tell,” the doctor said. “How would you like me to hand you over to the Russian secret police? I think they’d like to see you at 60 Stalin ut.”
“That wouldn’t be very smart on your part,” I said. “From what I gather, the Russians are very much interested in Blaye’s envelope, too. You might have a time explaining your own presence in Hungary. Otto and Hermann are deserters from the Red Army. They’ve stolen an army car. And what do you suppose the Russian commander would think to find you sitting under a portrait of Adolf Hitler?”
Schmidt picked up the revolver from the desk. “We can always arrange to turn you over to the Russians dead.”
“That wouldn’t get you your envelope,” I said.
Chapter Six
HAND IN THE DARK
Schmidt was silent a moment. Then he said, in what he must have thought an offhand manner, “Where did you leave that envelope in the train?”
I shook my head. “There’s a lot more to talk about before I tell you. Anyway, you don’t believe I left it there.”
The doctor turned to Otto. “How long will it take to make him talk?”
“Bitte, Excellenz, a few minutes, perhaps.” Otto stared at me, a wide grin on his ugly face. “An hour at the most, Excellency.” He pointed to the tools on the workbenches.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Maria said. “He’s telling the truth. He did leave the envelope on the train.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I haven’t anything to hide. Besides, it would take Otto a lot longer than an hour to break me down.” I said to Schmidt, “How do you know you’ve got an hour, anyway? Suppose you put this goon to work on me. How do you know you’ve even a few minutes to spare?”
“What do you mean?” Schmidt said.
“You know the police have already found Strakhov’s body. They must have found it when the porters went through the train. They’d pick up the newspapers, they’d see the blood on the cushions. How long do you suppose it would be before they decided to search the whole train?”
Schmidt pulled on his ear.
“Even if the police don’t look for the envelope,” I said, “those international trains are always cleaned before they’re sent back to Vienna. Somebody is bound to find the envelope if you don’t hurry.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” the doctor said.
I looked at Maria and I thought I saw encouragement in her lovely eyes. “You don’t know I’m not lying,” I said to Schmidt, “but you want that envelope and you haven’t much time to waste. You’re in a hurry. You’ve got to take a chance. You’ve got to get the envelope before the Russians get it.”
“I still think you handed it to someone on the train,” the doctor said. “What do you think, Otto?”
It was plain enough what Otto thought and what he wanted. “Please, Excellency, let me get the truth.” He hadn’t liked being called a goon. He took a couple of steps toward me.
“Listen,” I said. “It would be easy enough for me to say I gave it to someone on the train. I could invent a name. But you’d find out it wasn’t true. And the Russians would beat you to it.”
“Why are you suddenly so anxious to help?”
“Monsieur, I don’t know who you are. You say you’re American. You speak German like a Berliner and French like a Frenchman. I don’t know who you’re working for but I shall find out.”
The doctor’s voice had begun to rise. He came around the desk and stood a foot or two in front of me. His little pig eyes glittered behind the thick lenses.
“You are going to tell me what you did with that envelope.”
“I told you,” I said. “I hid it on the train.”
“Who did you give it to?”
“Nobody,” I said. “I’ve told you the truth.”
“Monsieur.” By this time Schmidt’s voice was out of control. “You are going to tell me what you did with that envelope, or shall I turn you over to Otto?”
There wasn’t anything for me to say.
“There are several ways I can make you tell,” the doctor said. “How would you like me to hand you over to the Russian secret police? I think they’d like to see you at 60 Stalin ut.”
“That wouldn’t be very smart on your part,” I said. “From what I gather, the Russians are very much interested in Blaye’s envelope, too. You might have a time explaining your own presence in Hungary. Otto and Hermann are deserters from the Red Army. They’ve stolen an army car. And what do you suppose the Russian commander would think to find you sitting under a portrait of Adolf Hitler?”
Schmidt picked up the revolver from the desk. “We can always arrange to turn you over to the Russians dead.”
“That wouldn’t get you your envelope,” I said.
Chapter Six
HAND IN THE DARK
Schmidt was silent a moment. Then he said, in what he must have thought an offhand manner, “Where did you leave that envelope in the train?”
I shook my head. “There’s a lot more to talk about before I tell you. Anyway, you don’t believe I left it there.”
The doctor turned to Otto. “How long will it take to make him talk?”
“Bitte, Excellenz, a few minutes, perhaps.” Otto stared at me, a wide grin on his ugly face. “An hour at the most, Excellency.” He pointed to the tools on the workbenches.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Maria said. “He’s telling the truth. He did leave the envelope on the train.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I haven’t anything to hide. Besides, it would take Otto a lot longer than an hour to break me down.” I said to Schmidt, “How do you know you’ve got an hour, anyway? Suppose you put this goon to work on me. How do you know you’ve even a few minutes to spare?”
“What do you mean?” Schmidt said.
“You know the police have already found Strakhov’s body. They must have found it when the porters went through the train. They’d pick up the newspapers, they’d see the blood on the cushions. How long do you suppose it would be before they decided to search the whole train?”
Schmidt pulled on his ear.
“Even if the police don’t look for the envelope,” I said, “those international trains are always cleaned before they’re sent back to Vienna. Somebody is bound to find the envelope if you don’t hurry.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” the doctor said.
I looked at Maria and I thought I saw encouragement in her lovely eyes. “You don’t know I’m not lying,” I said to Schmidt, “but you want that envelope and you haven’t much time to waste. You’re in a hurry. You’ve got to take a chance. You’ve got to get the envelope before the Russians get it.”
“I still think you handed it to someone on the train,” the doctor said. “What do you think, Otto?”
It was plain enough what Otto thought and what he wanted. “Please, Excellency, let me get the truth.” He hadn’t liked being called a goon. He took a couple of steps toward me.
“Listen,” I said. “It would be easy enough for me to say I gave it to someone on the train. I could invent a name. But you’d find out it wasn’t true. And the Russians would beat you to it.”
“Why are you suddenly so anxious to help?”
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