The Black Baroness by Dennis Wheatley Read Free Book Online Page B

would be put into some sandwiches specially prepared for them, then a doctor who was in the Nazis’ pay would make it his business to see that they did not recover.
    There were so many things which he had no means of guarding against, and he knew that they were running a frightful risk every day that they now remained in Oslo. Although they had not secured even a hint of the invasion date the material he was getting through was of considerable value, so he was determined to stay on himself, but the work could be continued without Erika’s assistance and he became desperately anxious to have her safely out of it.
    At first when he tackled her on the subject she flatly refused to go, but he managed to bring her to a more reasonable frame of mind by pointing out that if trouble broke he would be in a much better situation to cope with it if he had not her to look after; and over breakfast in bed on the morning of Wednesday, April the 3rd, they reopened the project of Erika’s flitting into Sweden, with the proviso that in the event of an emergency he should join her there.
    An hour or so later when Gregory was dressing in his own room, Kuporovitch came in looking extremely glum and, on Gregory’s asking him what was wrong, he said:
    ‘Paula has been ordered to leave Norway; she received fresh instructions last night from
La Baronne Noire.
’
    ‘The Black Baroness,’ Gregory murmured with a puzzled look. ‘And who may she be?’
    The Russian shrugged. I have no idea. It is just a
nom-de-guerre
by which they sometimes refer to one of their key agents. Anyway, Paula is being sent to Holland.’
    He then went on to say that it seemed as if Hitler’s secretweapon had done its work in Norway and Himmler did not want the pick of his young women murdered by the infuriated Norwegian populace when they realised that their leaders had sold them out to the Nazis. In consequence, Paula and her friends were methodically receiving instructions to tell their Norwegian
chers amis
that they were returning home for a short holiday or that they had to leave Norway for a week or so on urgent business affairs but that they would return as soon as they could to continue the good life, and in the meantime the Norwegians were to be good boys and carry out all the things that they had promised.
    Erika joined them at that moment and, on discussing that matter further, they then recalled that several of Paula’s friends had disappeared in the last few days and that others had talked vaguely of ailing relatives or of husbands who were coming on leave to their homes in Germany, which would necessitate their leaving the delightful Norwegian capital for a brief spell.
    ‘How does Paula take the idea of going to Holland?’ Gregory asked.
    Kuporovitch grimaced. ‘Not at all well. She says that the Dutch are even duller than the Norwegians and that she will be broken-hearted unless I agree to go with her.’
    ‘But you have no passport.’
    ‘That, apparently, can be arranged. Major Quisling could fix it with the Norwegian Foreign Office.’
    ‘What,
that
conceited little poop?’ exclaimed Erika.
    Kuporovitch half-closed his eyes. ‘It is a mistake to underrate that Quisling man because he appears to be only an empty-headed swaggerer. He has a finger in every pie.’
    ‘Yes,’ Gregory added. ‘He’s a nasty piece of work if ever there was one, but he’s up to the neck in this thing. I can hardly recall a party at which he hasn’t been present and I’m quite convinced that he’s the fellow who produces some new Norwegian general or statesman every time another blonde arrives from Germany. What have you decided to do?’
    ‘I should like to go to Holland, as it is no great distance from France, and once I am in possession of a Norwegian passport I could easily get to Paris; but I would not say anything definite without consulting you, so I told Paula that I would think matters over and let her know.’
    ‘That’s fine. Now, d’you