Prince Cecil: XVII

Chapter XVII.

The Foundations Shaken

It was nearly Krassok’s usual time to begin his secretarial work for the Superior. He was just a bit early this morning, and he whistled cheerfully as he walked down the palace corridor towards the double doors of the audience chamber, pleased with the thought that the Superior would think him a very useful secretary indeed.
He paused as he reached the doors, hearing a familiar voice speaking in loud and irate tones and vociferating more fiercely than was usual even for the Superior. He stood indecisively for a moment, then thought that he had better come back later.
Wakjavotski was talking on the telephone. Baden had called him up that morning with some startling news.
‘THEY DID!’ rang the dictator’s amazed stentorian tones into the receiver. ‘Do you expect me to believe that? –That the SO would actually dare to arrest one of my top ministers? By all the futile Freudian fallacies! What is Zköllmann thinking? Yes, I was angry when he jugged Bubol, of course, but Bubol was getting rather useless anyway and he never had any imagination—but Limbrugher? He can’t just arrest Limbrugher like that—he’s my minister.’
‘Perhaps Zköllmann would benefit by a reminder of that fact,’ came Baden’s voice sarcastictically over the wire. ‘I warned you, you know.’
‘I’ll show you and everybody else that Zköllmann can’t just walk over me like that,’ shouted Wakjavotski. ‘He will be here in fifteen minutes and he will explain everything or lose his position.’
‘He’ll explain, certainly,’ said Baden. ‘He’ll explain everything too satisfactorily. He’d easily talk you round. Don’t give him the chance—arrest him at once. Use the tank brigade if you’re afraid the SO will support him.’
‘I won’t use the tanks for paltry manouvres. They’re to remain in the fort where they’re safe. Besides, I’m not afraid the SO will support Zköllmann. They’re loyal to me first.’
‘I’d be wary all the same. You never know what he’s got up his sleeve. Don’t let him explain anything, at all costs, just put him quietly out of the way. You can always find another secret police chief. I told you he was too ambitious. What do you want—do you want him to be arresting you next? Take strong measures.’
‘I shall take Herculean measures! Dempsey and Lewis won’t even be in the running with me! I’ll clear this calumny up! Zköllmann, your fun is over! Yes, by the Fasces, sickle, and Swastika combined!’
‘Good,’ said Baden, and hung up.
Wakjavotski slammed his receiver down, breaking his telephone.
‘Krassok! Grosse! Anyone! Who’s in here?’ he shouted.
Two guards entered.
‘Hoch Wakjavotski!’ they cried.
‘Ah!’ said Wakjavotski. ‘Send for Grosse immediately. I want him to… oh, never mind—just send him in here.’
The guards saluted and hurried out and Krassok hurried in.
‘Did Your Excellency call me?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want you anymore. You are always late! Goodbye!’
Krassok left.
It took some time for the guards to find Grosse and some more time for him to finish his breakfast (he did not dine particularly late but his meals lasted for quite awhile). He did not appear in the audience chamber until half an hour later.
‘Finally!’ said Wakjavotski who had been stamping up and down the room impatiently the while. ‘Go take some of your men and bring Zköllmann here.’
‘Why couldn’t you have just called him, instead of making me come?’ asked Grosse, who did not like having his breakfast rushed.
‘Don’t question me! Insubordination! Go at once!’
Grosse obeyed rapidly.
He was gone for some time. In the meantime the telephone was repaired. As soon as it was fixed it began to ring.
‘What?!’ asked Wakjavotski, answering it.
‘Zköllmann isn’t home,’ said Grosse’s voice.
‘Find him!’
Wakjavotski hung up.
‘Who are you looking for?’ asked a voice behind him.
He turned around and saw Zköllmann standing just inside the door.
‘You!’ he thundered irately.
‘Here I am.’
‘—And here you’ll stay until I’m through with you. What do you mean by arresting one of my ministers? You will release him immediately.’
‘Which one?’
‘What do you mean, which one? Limbrugher, of course. And what did you arrest him for, anyway?’
‘Conspiracy.’
‘Against whom? Against me? You’re mad! I won’t believe it of him. He not only does not have the guts to do that sort of thing, he does not even have the brains.’
‘He was only an agent in the plot.’
‘I said release him at once!…What plot?’
‘He has already been released,’ went on Zköllmann evenly. ‘We asked him a few questions, and he confessed everything. As you said, he hasn’t much courage or intelligence. He has been taught a lesson and will not try anything of the sort again.’
‘But what plot? What plot? I want to know!’
‘A plot against you. Baden has been maturing it for some time.’
‘Baden! Ha! Of course you’d pick Baden. The two of you aren’t too good friends, are you? Well, it was rather stupid of you to choose Baden to style as the originator of your fictional intrigue. He may be bad, but I know him too well to believe he’s in a plot against me. He said the same thing about you, you know.’
‘Did he?’
‘Yes, and I almost believe it now, after this premature arrest of Limbrugher. Baden informs me that you’ve made it your business to know all about our private affairs. That kind of curiosity is not healthy. –Because of course if we decided we didn’t want you to have that knowledge, we’d have no other alternative but to dispose of you. You’ve been getting too restless, lately, I think. I am going to call Baden in and get to the bottom of this arrest and supposed “plot.” You still haven’t explained the particulars to me, you know.’
Wakjavotski picked up the telephone and dialed Baden’s number.
‘You won’t find him at home,’ remarked Zköllmann, watching him.
‘Where is he, then?’
‘Just now he’s at the SO headquarters.’
Wakjavotski laid down the receiver.
‘What’s he doing there?’ he asked.
‘He was arrested fifteen minutes ago by the SO.’
Wakjavotski stared at Zköllmann while the blood mounted in his face.
‘By the…’ he began and cut himself short with, ‘WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!!’
‘He was in a plot against you,’ Zköllmann repeated patiently.
‘So you really expect me to believe that—that lie?’ asked Wakjavotski with determined incredulity.
‘He confessed to it himself.’
‘Under coercion, no doubt. You probably got that out of him with your interrogation.’
‘Not at all. He confessed freely the moment we confronted him with the documents found in his house. There was no use in his denying it.’
‘What documents? Give me physical proof!’
Zköllmann laid a folder stuffed with papers on Wakjavotski’s desk.
‘This is the evidence we’ve found so far,’ he said.
‘Forged probably—the lot of it! You’ll release Baden immediately.’
‘If you think it best.’
‘And you’ll concern yourself only with what I tell you to from now on. Do you imagine I have time to keep my ministers from killing each other? I have more important things to do—such as the war, for instance. I’m having you dismissed, Zköllmann.’
Wakjavotski flipped open the folder and began to look over the papers inside.
‘Are you going to have the tanks sent back to the fort as well?’ asked Zköllmann, immoveably.
‘Who ordered the tanks away from the fort?’ asked Wakjavotski. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Baden did.’
Wakjavotski laid down the papers, straightened up, and gaped at Zköllmann for a few seconds, then rushed to the telephone and gave the necessary orders. When he hung up again, he sat down in a chair and gave his secret police chief a long scrutiny, as if trying to plumb the depths of that impenetrable mind. Zköllmann returned his gaze serenely.
‘Was Grosse in the plot as well?’ Wakjavotski asked at last.
‘They had not yet let him into the secret, although of course they planned to, in order to have the support of the army.’
‘I never trusted Baden,’ said Wakjavotski. ‘—But I don’t trust you, either. That’s why I made you both ministers—two scoundrels whom I couldn’t trust—so that you’d watch each other and balance out each other. If one of you started to get too strong, I knew the other would keep him in check. You knew that, too—didn’t you?—and that’s why you’ve arrested Baden.’
‘Do you still want me to release him?’ asked Zköllmann.
‘No, he’s convinced me. –Something you couldn’t do. Well, now that he’s out of the way, you think you can do what you like. But you’ve forgotten one thing—you’ve still got me to deal with.’
Zköllmann stood silently regarding him.
‘You think I’m just a charismatic politician, don’t you?–One who has the people’s imaginations captivated, but who has to rely on his ministers for the real work?’ asked Wakjavotski. ‘Not at all! I’m in control completely. Try to get rid of me! You think the SO will support you, but I know better. They’re loyal to me and I’ve seen to it that they’ve stayed that way. If they had to choose between you and I, you wouldn’t stand a chance—not even from your own special force. Sad, isn’t it? Do you want to pit your wits against mine? Go ahead! I’m not afraid of you!’
Wakjavotski paused in his harangue to give Zköllmann a long look.
‘You just stand there as silent as a great black grave,’ he went on after a moment. ‘But you can’t frighten me! I can read minds, too—maybe even better than you can with all your psychoanalysis, you loony doctor!’
‘Some kinds of psychology make mad men sane; some kinds make sane men mad,’ replied Zköllmann.
‘Enough of your oraculations! I’m not interested! Don’t mistake me—I’m letting you return to your work, but don’t make the slightest move without my say-so. I have the tank brigade; I have the army; I have a secret weapon that is powerful enough to liquidate our allies as well as our enemies, however much you may scoff at it; and I have my own incomparable self—that’s something you can’t get the better of.’
‘Was that all you wanted me for?’ asked Zköllmann.
‘Go!’ cried Wakjavotski.

* * * * *

‘A quarter of an hour yet to go,’ said Mikhailov.
The four conspirators sat together in Leiber’s upstairs room. The sun had set and darkness was beginning to creep into the city. All was in readiness for the operation that night—the agents had been apprised of their parts and the Silver Heels had been given their injunctions. There was nothing to do now but to wait.
It was a quiet party in the little room. There wasn’t much left to talk about and no one felt much like talking. Leiber studied some shorthand notes, Cecil swung his legs, and Mikhailov sat and cleaned a tommy gun—one of the few of the underground’s weapons. Karotski stood leaning against the wall and staring at nothing. No one else wanted to bother him, so nobody had broken the silence until Mikhailov made the above remark. When he had made it, Karotski jerked his head up to look at the grandfather clock.
‘It’s nearly dark enough,’ was all he said, with a glance at the window.
‘I’ve just time to wind my watches, I think,’ said Leiber, getting up.
He went through the door and they heard his footsteps going steadily down the stairs until they reached the bottom; then Cecil suddenly jumped up and hurried after him.
Leiber sat on the counter in the watch shop with a lamp above his head, the light from which streamed over his shoulder. He held one of the watches up to the light as he wound it. He was always very careful with his watches.
‘They’re almost like living things,’ he remarked, seeing Cecil come in. ‘I don’t like to think of what will happen to them if I don’t come back. I hate for a watch to run down.’
Cecil came up to the counter and watched Leiber’s painstaking fingers as they turned a tiny gold key in the side of the watch.
‘I thought of asking you to take the job of winding them for me every night, Tzaddi,’ said Leiber, looking slightly embarrassed. ‘—I mean, if anything happened to me. But I suppose you’ll be far too busy once you’ve got your kingdom back.’
‘I won’t be too busy,’ said Cecil quickly.
Leiber replaced the watch beneath the counter and took out another.
‘This watch was given to me several years ago by a friend who is dead now,’ he said thoughtfully, opening up the back and examining the little wheels inside. ‘I’ve always kept it. Watches are curious things. You’ve got to treat them just right—not drop them or get them wet or anything like that. If you keep one long enough, it gets to be an old friend.’
He put a key into the watch and began to wind it.
‘What will you do after Pyromania is free again?’ asked Cecil.
‘I don’t know,’ said Leiber. ‘I suppose I’ll keep the watch shop like I do now. I haven’t thought much about it.’
‘Don’t you want to be rich, or in government, or anything like that?’
‘Not much. Most of the fellows in the underground just want to settle down quietly and begin life for real. I suppose that’s what I want, too. I don’t know what I want, exactly.’
‘Then what is it you’re fighting for?’ asked Cecil.
‘Why, to make Pyromania free. That’s what we’re all fighting for. You didn’t come back just to be king, did you?’
‘No,’ said Cecil; ‘but I thought you’d want something at the end of it all for yourself.’
‘All I want is for all this to be over.’
‘I wish I were going in there instead of you.’
‘You wouldn’t look very convincing in the disguise,’ said Leiber.
‘But it seems a rotten shame,’ said Cecil; ‘—that I’m the one who will get to be king and you’re the one who’s got the bad job.’
‘It isn’t a bad job,’ said Leiber. ‘It’s a good job.’
‘Doesn’t it bother you that you’re going to murder him?’
‘It was a hard decision to make in the beginning. Murder is wrong, but so is standing by while Wakjavotski hurts innocent people. All I knew when I decided was that I had to make a choice one way or the other, and I’ve made it. Pretty soon I shall know whether I was right or wrong.’
‘What if you’re wrong?’ asked Cecil.
‘I have to go through with it whether I’m wrong or not,’ said Leiber. ‘If I am wrong, I shall suffer for it, but I hope a lot of other people will be made happy.’
The clocks and watches began to chime the hour in their silvery voices and Leiber got up and put on the white laboratory jacket and spectacles that were his disguise. Karotski and Mikhailov entered the shop from the stairway.
‘Don’t forget your parts,’ said Karotksi. ‘Leiber, hire a taxi. You’ll look more official. Mikhailov, see that the Silver Heels don’t get arrested after the curfew hour strikes.’
‘We won’t be,’ said Mikhailov. ‘We can handle any policemen we meet.’
‘Good. The prince will come with me. Remember, don’t do anything until you’ve gotten the codeword. We can’t afford any premature manouvres.’
‘Right.’
‘Leiber,’ said Karotksi, turning to him and lowering his voice; ‘if you run into trouble forget everything and get out. You’re more important than the success of this plan.’
Leiber picked up the gun case and said nothing.
‘Well, I’m off,’ said Mikhailov. ‘Good luck, Leiber.’
He disappeared through the door and they heard him whistling as he ran up the street. Karotski and Cecil went out next and Leiber followed last, locking the shop door behind him.
Karotski and Cecil started off toward the radio building and Leiber went down the street in the opposite direction. They glanced back at him once and saw him stop to hail a passing taxicab. Then they went on together without looking back. Not a word was spoken between them until they reached the safe house across from the radio tower.
Cecil and Karotski entered the empty building and climbed the stairs to a room on the second storey. Karotski went quietly to the window and looked out at the street. Nothing stirred. It was approaching the curfew hour. They had had to time the operations carefully so that Leiber would not arrive at the palace at a suspiciously late hour, but so that the Silver Heels would have the cover of darkness in which to surprise the radio station.
Karotski ensconced himself beside the telephone. If Leiber was successful, Vau would soon know by the panic-stricken telephone calls that would come pouring out of the palace. After tying up the telephone lines, Vau would pass the message on to Karotski who would give the code word to the Silver Heels and to the other agents.
They sat in the twilit room, waiting anxiously for the ring of the telephone to break the stillness. In the meanwhile Karotski went mentally over the plans, muttering them aloud in an effort to keep them straight in his mind. Cecil sat and mused nervously.
The telephone call came much more quickly than they had expected. It was Vau’s voice, certainly, but there was something wrong in its tones.
‘Hello, hello, are you there?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘The game’s up, Aleph.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘They’ve got Gimel.’
‘Who?’
‘The SO. He didn’t have a chance to do anything. They got him as soon as he got inside the palace. They were expecting him. Better clear out while there’s time.’
‘But—’
‘Listen,’ came Vau’s voice sharply; ‘I can’t tell you any more. Two SO officers just came into the switchroom. They’ve come for me, I think. I’ve got to hang up…’
The line went dead.
Karotski slowly hung up the receiver. Cecil had stood near enough to catch most of this and a deadly weight settled on their hopes.
‘They’ve got him?’ Cecil asked, meaning Leiber.
Karotski nodded. ‘The butchers!’ he muttered.
Cecil leaned his head against the dark wall.
‘Well, we’ve failed,’ he said dully.
‘Yes, failed,’ repeated Karotski. ‘Failed!’ he cried, suddenly. ‘It’s all over. That was our last chance and it’s gone. It wasn’t Leiber’s fault, though. I shouldn’t have let him go. Oh, why did I let him go?’
‘They’ll be after us next,’ said Cecil.
‘Yes, they’re probably on to all of us. But what does it matter? They’ve got Leiber. What could we have done without him?’
‘Look here,’ said Cecil, straightening up with a determined look on his face. ‘We aren’t giving up. They haven’t caught us yet and there’s still time. Leiber won’t talk.’
‘No, Leiber won’t talk,’ said Karotski, beginning to pace up and down. ‘Leiber won’t talk, no matter what they do. Not Leiber! He’s true: true as gold. They’ll torture him—again—the brutes! Fiends! Villains! But he’ll never betray us. No! Not him. Oh, Leiber! Why did it have to be you?’ and he put his head into his hands.
‘We’ve got to make a plan,’ said Cecil. ‘We haven’t much time.’
‘Yes!’ said Karotski, straightening up again. ‘All’s not lost. We’ll save him yet. Leiber! I’ll save you, or die in the attempt.’
‘How are we to do it?’ asked Cecil practically.
‘Storm the SO headquarters,’ said Karotski wildly. ‘We can use the Silver Heels.’
‘I don’t think there are enough of them for that,’ said Cecil. ‘But—wait a minute!—the plans and maps and things—aren’t they still at Leiber’s shop? …They’ll search it, you know, now that they’ve arrested him.’
Karotski stared at him.
‘We’ve time!’ said Cecil, darting past him to the door. ‘They can’t have got there yet. We can beat them if we run.’
He dashed out and down the stairs to the street. Only once he looked back and saw Karotski pounding after him. They reached the deserted street where the clock shop stood and Karotski unlocked the door.
All was order within. The ticking of the fifty or so clocks and watches sounded like fifty hearts beating in their sleep.
‘They haven’t been here yet,’ said Cecil, as he hurried up the dark staircase. He opened the secret compartment in the grandfather clock with the key Leiber had entrusted to him.
‘They will be, though,’ said Karotski, who was just behind him. ‘They’ll smash everything up.’
‘There’s nothing we can do. Here’s the papers. Have you a match?’
‘Don’t burn them yet. I want to look over them.’
Karotski pulled out the map of the SO headquarters and studied it, spread out on the table. He attempted several different modes of attack with a pencil, but each time he couldn’t work it out with only one hundred and fifty Silver Heels.
‘There’s only one thing to do,’ he said, straightening up. ‘We’ll just have to try our luck.’
‘Do you think we have a chance?’ asked Cecil.
‘No, but we’ve got to do it. I won’t leave Leiber to the mercy of those devils.’
‘But what can we do against them?’
‘We’ll see!’ cried Karotski.
He strode to the door and opened it. Outside on the landing stood a bevy of figures in black uniforms.
And here, Karotski, with all his preoccupation, was gripped with that fabulous presence of mind that always came to him in the most desperate of situations. He closed the door.
He closed it and threw himself against it as a human barricade. At the same time, he glanced over his shoulder at Cecil.
‘The clock!’ he whispered.
Cecil understood him and knew that it was the only thing to do. As quick as thought, he put one leg down into the cavernous space that was the pendulum cabinet of the old clock. He ducked his head under the upper part of the opening and pulled in his other leg, making himself as small and thin as possible. Then he shut the door and, because he still had the key, locked it.
All this time, which was in sum about three seconds, Karotski had held the door shut against the men outside. They weren’t interested in battering the door down and quickly resorted to firing several bullets through the door panels. One of these grazed Karotski’s hand. He stepped back from the door and allowed them to open it and enter.
‘Comrade Karotski, also known as Aleph; under arrest!’ said the head officer.
Karotski made no demure as they buckled the handcuffs on his bleeding hands. He seemed to have burnt the last of his energy in that one frantic outburst and now he had nothing left.
‘Here’s the papers,’ said one of the officers, taking them from the table. ‘That’s what we want; we can go over the place later.’
‘Very well. You two stay and guard this place. Arrest anyone who comes here,’ said the head officer.
Then they went away, leaving the two guards to keep a watch outside the door. When he was quite sure that they had gone, Cecil crawled out of the clock. For a few minutes he stood in the quiet room uncertainly. He was on his own now. There was only one way left to save Pyromania and Cecil had felt all along that it was what he would have to do in the end anyway.
He went to the telephone on the wall, took down the receiver, and gave the number for Miss Kaparthy’s house. It was her voice that answered it and he could tell from her unsuspecting tones that she had not heard anything yet.
‘Miss Kaparthy,’ he said; ‘—it’s I—Cecil.’
‘Cecil!’ she exclaimed, forgetting to call him ‘Your Highness.’ ‘Oh, Cecil, you shouldn’t call here, I’ve told you before. They might catch you.’
‘I had to. They’ve got Leiber.’
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment.
‘Who did?’ asked Csilla.
‘The SO. They’ve got Karotski too.’
‘Not Karotski! What are we going to do?’
‘I’m going to save them.’
‘How?’
‘I’ve got to get into the palace and get rid of Wakjavotski myself.’
‘But you can’t!’
‘I have to, that’s why I called you.’
‘…You want me to tell you the secret way in?’ she said.
‘You must—there’s no other way.’
‘No, I know. Listen carefully, Cecil. The vaults under the church are very extensive and they connect to a passage into the palace. You can get into them through the door in the alley you went through that first night. If you go through the archway on the north side it will take you down a long passage. It ends in a wall with an inscription in it, but it isn’t a real wall. If you push on it, it slides in like a door. Follow the passage behind it. It goes on for a long ways. At one place it is nearly choked up with rubble from where the roof collapsed once. I think you can get through—I did once—but a man couldn’t. At the end of the passage you’ll come to a wooden panel. It is part of the wall of the palace wine cellar. Can you find your way from there to the upper levels?’
‘I can do it,’ said Cecil. ‘I’ve almost memorized the floorplans. Is that all?’
‘Yes, that’s all. Are you sure you can do it by yourself?’
‘I’ll manage.’
‘Cecil, I’m coming with you!’
‘You can’t. There’s something else you’ve got to do. If I succeed in getting Wakjavotski I’ll ring you up on the telephone and give you the codeword. You’ve got to let the Silver Heels and any of our men they haven’t nabbed yet know and get them off on their work. Can you do that?’
‘Yes, I can!’
‘The code word is Savastopol.’
‘Savastopol,’ she repeated.
‘Good bye, then.’
‘Good bye—be careful.’
Cecil hung up and went to the window. He had slid down enough drainspouts in his life to effect an escape from the upper window without difficulty and neither of the two guards saw him as he slipped away up the street.