Faked Passports by Dennis Wheatley Page A

would conclude that the fugitive airmen had succeeded in getting further afield and abandon the hunt for them there. Obviously the officer who was staring at him so intently could be in the wood only for the purpose of inspecting pickets that he had left posted in it the previous night.
    When the German rapped out, “
Was machen Sie hier
?” it conveyed nothing to him; he could only reply:
    â€œSorry, I don’t understand.”
    â€œYou are English, eh?” exclaimed the officer with evident surprise, and lowering his gun a little he added: “I asked what is it that you do in this place.”
    He spoke fluent, if ungrammatical, English and his question made Charlton stare, since it showed that he was not, after all, an officer of the anti-aircraft battery and evidently had not heard that two enemy airmen were being sought for in the neighbourhood.
    â€œPerhaps you’ll tell us what you’re doing here yourself?” said a quiet voice, and swinging round Freddie saw that the sound of talking had wakened Gregory. He was now standing up and stepped out of the gully on to the higher ground at its edge.
    The German’s blue eyes narrowed in an uneasy look for a second, but he straightened himself and said abruptly: “I own this wood so I haf a very goot right to be here in. What two Englishmen should be making here in time of war is another question and I haf the right to demand the answer.”
    From where Gregory was standing he could see the officer’s rank-badges and a pile of tumbled rugs round his feet. He bowed slightly and his voice held a gentle note of amusement as he said: “
Herr Oberst,
if you own this wood presumably you also own the charming little manor-house just through the trees there? I have no right to question you at all but I confess that I’m extremely curious to know why, instead of sleeping in your own bed, you passed the night in the ditch where you are now standing.”
    â€œEnough of this!” said the Colonel, with rising irritation. “You will observe, please, that I am armed while you haf not. Reply instantlich to my question! What do you do here?”
    â€œThe same as you, apparently.”
    â€œ
Donnerwetter!
I haf a right to camp out if I am wishing,” the German snapped. “What else do you think I make but hard sleeping which for a soldier is goot?”
    â€œWhy, that you are trying to keep out of the hands of the Gestapo, of course,” Gregory grinned.
    For a second the Colonel’s jaw dropped, then he said harshly: “Absurdity! What makes you that believe?”
    â€œSimply because even the most hardened soldier would not spend a night in the woods at this season of the year if he couldsleep in his own comfortable bed. Evidently the
Putsch
was a failure and you’re on the run.”
    â€œThe
Putsch!
What do you know of that?”
    â€œI started it.” Gregory pulled back the flap of his greatcoat and displayed the Iron Cross of the First Class which was still pinned upon his chest. “For the part I played General Count von Pleisen honoured me with this. I can only say how immeasurably distressed I am to learn from your presence here,
Herr Oberst,
that the Nazis succeeded in suppressing the rebellion which was to have freed Germany.”
    The Colonel suddenly put his pistol back in its holster and took a step forward. “
Gott im Himmel!
I thought I haf somewhere seen your face. I was at
der Pleisen Palast
with the comradeship of officers before the
Putsch
when the Count decorated you. Permit that I introduce myself.” Drawing himself up he clicked his heels and bowed sharply from the waist. “
Oberst-Baron von Lutz
.”
    Gregory imitated the movement and rapped out his name, adding with a wave of his hand: “This is Flight-Lieutenant Charlton. After I’d completed my mission he was to fly me home and we left from a secret air-field, east of Berlin, on the night of