«Quite the contrary. I meant whichever department of the police it is that could help locate some people. They’re not in the telephone directory. I even checked unlisted numbers; they don’t have one.»
«Are you sure they’re in Rio?»
«They were when last heard from. And I gather the other cities in Brazil were checked out, again through the telephone companies.»
«You intrigue me, Mr. Holcroft. Is it so important these people be found? What did they do? But then you said there was no crime.»
«None. I know very little. A friend of mine in New York, an attorney, knew I was coming here and asked me to do what I could to locate this family. Apparently it was left some money by relatives in the Midwest.»
«An inheritance?»
«Yes.»
«Then perhaps legal counsel here in Rio …»
«My friend sent what he termed ‘inquiries of record’ to several law firms down here,» said Noel, remembering the words of the attaché in New York. «There weren’t any satisfactory responses.»
«How did he explain that?»
«He didn’t. He was just annoyed. I guess the money wasn’t enough for three attorneys to get involved.»
«Three attorneys?»
«Yes,» replied Noel, astonished at himself. He was filling a gap instinctively, without thinking. «There’s the lawyer in Chicago—or St. Louis—my friend’s firm in New York, and the one down here in Rio. I don’t imagine what’s confidential to an outsider is confidential between attorneys. Perhaps splitting a fee three ways wasn’t worth the trouble.»
«But your friend is a man of conscience.» Graff arched his brows in appreciation. Or something else, Holcroft thought.
«I’d like to think so.»
«Perhaps I can help. I have friends.»
Holcroft shook his head. «I couldn’t ask you. You’ve done enough for me this afternoon. And, as I said, it’s not that important.»
«Naturally,» said Graff, shrugging. «I wouldn’t care to intrude in confidential matters.» The German looked over at the windows, squinting. The sun was settling above the western mountains; shafts of orange light streamed through the glass, adding a rich hue to the dark wood of the study.
«The name of the family is Von Tiebolt,» said Noel, watching the old man’s face. But whatever he expected to find, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
Old Graff’s eyes snapped open, their glance shooting over at Holcroft, filled with loathing. «You are a pig,» said the German, his voice so low it could barely be heard, «This was a trick, a devious ruse to come into my house! To come to me!»
«You’re wrong, Mr. Graff. You can call my client in New York…»
«Pig!…» the old man screamed. «The Von Tiebolts! Verräter! Below filth! Cowards! Schweinhunde! How dare you!»
Noel watched, mesmerized and helpless. Graff’s face was discolored with rage; the veins in his neck were at the surface of his flesh, his eyes red and furious, his hands trembling, gripping the arms of the chair.
«I don’t understand,» said Holcroft, getting to his feet.
«You understand … you garbage! You are looking for the Von Tiebolts! You want to give them life again!»
«They’re dead?»
«Would to the Almighty they were!»
«Graff, listen to me. If you know something—»
«Get out of my house!»
The old man struggled up from the chair and screamed at the closed door of the study. «Werner! Komm’ her!»
Graff’s aide burst through the door. «Mein Herr? Was ist—»
«Take this impostor away! Get him out of my house!»
The aide looked at Holcroft. «This way. Quickly!»
Noel reached down for his attaché case and walked swiftly toward the door. He stopped and turned to look once more at the enraged Graff. The old German stood like a bloated, grotesque manikin, yet he could not control his trembling.
«Get out! You are contemptible!»
The final, searing accusation shattered Noel’s self-control. It was not he who was contemptible; it was the figure of arrogance in front of him, this swollen image of indulgence and brutality. This monster who betrayed, then destroyed, a man in agony thirty years ago … and thousands like him. This Nazi.
«You’re in no position to call me names.»
«We’ll see who’s in what position. Get out!»
«I’ll get out, General, or whatever the hell you are. I can’t get out fast enough, because now I understand. You don’t know me from the last corpse you bastards burned, but I mention one name and you can’t stand it. You’re torn apart because you know—and I know—that Von Tiebolt saw through you thirty years ago. When the bodies piled up. He saw what you really were.»
«We did not conceal what we were! The world knew. There was no deception on our part!»
Holcroft stopped and swallowed involuntarily. In his burst of anger, he had to seek justice for the men who had cried out to him from the grave; he had to strike back at this symbol of the once-awesome might and decay that had stolen a father from him. He could not help himself.
«Get this clear,» said Noel. «I’m going to find the Von Tiebolts, and you’re not going to stop me. Don’t think you can. Don’t think you’ve got me marked. You haven’t. I’ve got you marked. For exactly what you are. You wear your Iron Cross a little too obviously.»
Graff had regained control. «Find the Von Tiebolts, by all means. We’ll be there!»
«I’ll find them. And when I do, if anything happens to them, I’ll know who did it. I’ll brand you for what you are. You sit up here in this castle and bark your orders. You’re still pretending. You were finished years ago—before the war was over—and men like Von Tiebolt knew it. They understood, but you never did. You never will.»
«Get out!»
A guard raced into the room; hands grabbed Noel from behind. An arm plunged over his right shoulder and down across his chest. He was yanked briefly off his feet and pulled backward out of the room. He swung his attaché case and felt the impact on the large, weaving body of the man dragging him through the door. He rammed his left elbow into the stomach of that unseen body and kicked viciously, jabbing his heel into his attacker’s shin bone. The response was immediate; the man yelped; the grip across Noel’s chest was momentarily lessened. It was enough.
Holcroft shot his left hand up, grabbing the cloth of the extended arm, and pulled forward with all his strength. He angled his body to the right; his right shoulder jammed into the chest that rose behind him. His assailant stumbled. Noel rammed a last shoulder block into the elevated chest, throwing his attacker into an antique chair against the wall. Man and delicate wood met in a crushing impact; the frame of the chair collapsed under the weight of the body. The guard was stunned, his wide eyes blinking, his focus temporarily lost.
Holcroft looked down at the man. The guard was large, but his bulk was the most threatening part of him. And the bulk was just that; like old Graff, a mountain of flesh packed under a tight-fitting jacket.
Through the open door Holcroft could see Graff start for the telephone on his desk. The aide he had called Werner took an awkward step toward Noel.
«Don’t,» said Holcroft. He walked across the large hallway toward the front entrance. On the opposite side of the foyer several men and women stood in an open archway. None made a move toward him; none even raised his voice. The German mentality was consistent, thought Noel, not unhappy with the realization. These minions were awaiting orders.