Whiff Of Money

'Yes, your Excellency,' he said bowing, 'but may I suggest that as the top floors have no lighting and are crowded with furniture, a thorough search by flashlight would be difficult. If I may suggest the search could be much more thorough tomorrow morning when the shutters can be opened and every inch of the rooms upstairs examined.'

Von Goltz looked at Silk who shrugged.

'Very well, but post a man at the head of every landing. He is to remain there and keep watch. As soon as it is daylight, the search is to begin.'

Sandeuer bowed and returned to his dinner after giving instructions for the landings to be guarded.

* * *

Girland decided it would be safer to go up to the fifth floor of the Schloss. He had checked the number of floors ~ eight in all -when he had arrived. By going up to the fifth floor, he had three more floors in which to manoeuvre should the need arise.

Holding Gilly's hand and using his flashlight sparingly, he led her down the long corridor to the stair head. The thick carpet deadened their footfalls. All he could hear was Gilly's fast breathing, and very faintly, the clatter of dishes as dinner was being served below. He thought regretfully of the food he was missing.

They went silently up the long flight of stairs, paused for a moment, then continued on up another flight of stairs. This landing was in complete darkness. No light from the ground floor reflected up the stair well as far as this.

Girland paused to listen. He heard nothing and moving away from the stair head, he turned on the flashlight. A white drugget covered the carpet. There was a slight smell of damp and must. He led Gilly down the corridor. On either side were doors. He paused at the fifth door. Easing the door open, he peered into darkness, listened, then turned on his flashlight.

The room was large. Standing against one of the walls was a four-poster bed. The windows were heavily shuttered.

Girland moved into the room and Gilly followed him. He closed the door.

'This will do,' he said. 'Come on... let's go to bed.'

'You will tomorrow. Hungry?'

He felt her shudder in the darkness.

'No.'

'Lucky you... I am. Well, Dumas once said the man who sleeps, dines. So let's go to sleep.'

'I couldn't... I'm too scared.'

Girland stretched out on the bed and pulled her down beside him.

'It's a pity you didn't think of being scared when you made those films,' he said, sliding his arm around her. 'Couldn't you see you were sticking your neck out when you started this blackmail idea with your father... he's a toughie if ever there was one.'

'I'd do it again!' Gilly said but without much conviction in her voice... She pulled away from him. 'And stop nagging!'

' Sorry... I was forgetting you are a mature, well-balanced woman.'

'Oh, shut up! You madden me! Listen... suppose we go down to the count and tell him he can have the films and I promise not to make any more-if he will let us go ... suppose we do that?'

'A marvellous idea.' Girland laughed. 'He will have the films by tomorrow anyway. Why should he trust you? Why should he let you go?'

'But you are going to trust me.'

'Yes, but I have to... he doesn't. Go to sleep,' and Girland moved away from her, made himself comfortable and shut his eyes. In a few moments, he was in a light sleep while Gilly stared fearfully towards the invisible ceiling. After a while, she began to think back on her past life. Although still hating her father and mother, she was now regretting what she had done. She reluctantly admitted that Girland was right. The Ban War was a weak-kneed organisation. She had only joined because she knew it would enrage her father. She thought of Rosnold, now realising with a sense of shock that she wasn't sorry that she wouldn't ever see him again. He had been her evil influence, she told herself. Without his persuasion and his flattery, she would never have made those awful films. She felt hot blood of shame run through her.

How could she have done it? Of course that massive dose of L.S.D. had made the films seem fun at the time. If Rosnold hadn't given her the L.S.D. she wouldn't have done what she had done. She was now sure of that.

If she ever got out of this mess, she told herself, she would begin a new life. To hell with her father! If he became President, then the American voters got what they deserved! She would have to leave Paris. The Ban War mob would never leave her alone if she stayed. She would go to London. She had a cousin there working at the American Embassy.

He might help her find a job. She listened to Girland's gentle breathing and she envied him. She remembered their night of love-making. He was the sort of man she would like to hook up with, but she knew that was hopeless. He was a loner... he had called himself a mercenary. He wouldn't consider having her around with him for long.

She thought of him with envy. Men had all the advantages.