The policeman hesitated, then threw his gun away and stood up. Adam pushed his hostage away from the car. 'Hurry, Billie. Come on. Get in.'
But the policeman hadn't given in. As Adam closed his door, he leapt across the bonnet and dragged Billie down to the pavement, away from the car. A police siren blasted from nearby and Adam knew she was beyond help. His only hope lay in doing what he had always done. Resolve the problem himself. He knew she wouldn't be harmed, that once the CIA had her under their wing she would return to America. He had to go on. Then, when this was all concluded, he would seek her out.
He crunched the gear into first and pulled away. As he careered down the road he saw the policeman who had been hostage pick up the revolver that his partner had thrown down and open fire. But he was too far away, his increasing speed carrying him to safety.
The last vision he had was of Billie screaming, her face turned towards him, the policeman still dragging her away.
I love you, Billie.
Look after her, Marcus.
Whatever happens, look after us both.
Ch. 75
'They've picked up the girl.'
'Who?'
'Berlin police.'
Hilsman looked pleased with himself, as if he had personally apprehended her. The message had been telephoned through by Gebhart at Police Headquarters and the Secret Service man had taken great pleasure in letting the DDI know that he was the senior contact for the police.
'We want her here,' said the DDI.
'Not so easy.'
'Why not? She's our operative.'
'There's been too much fucking publicity. That's why. There was some shooting. That crazy Englishman. Blasting off at a crowd. The media are screaming for information.'
'We've got to talk to her.'
' When the dust's settled.'
'That could be too late.'
'Give it a couple of hours. Then we'll go down to the cop shop.'
'I don't want any German flatfoot listening in. This material's classified.'
'That's the only way they'll play ball.'
'Then pull some fucking strings.'
'We're doing what we can,' Hilsman replied huffily.
'It's not enough.'
'Look, you guys have screwed up. This whole mess is yours. The Germans are going to stick to their guns.'
'I don't want any cops there when I see her.'
'Why? What's going on here that I don't know about?'
'That's Agency business. If you want answers, you get clearance.'
'What's so special about this girl? What the hell does she know?'
The DDI said nothing. That was something that concerned him too. What the hell was going on? What the hell did the girl know?
He found out four hours later.
More than he thought, less than he feared.
The police had run a pretty thorough interrogation before they rang the embassy and told him, courtesy of Hilsman, to come over to the police station. They arrived one hour after midnight and were let in through the back door, as instructed. They waited in an ante-room for another twenty minutes before Gerbhart came in.
'I'm sorry to keep you so long,' he apologised insincerely, pulling up a chair to join them. 'But the press…like dogs with a bone. They've gone now. Deadlines are past.'
'What's she said?' asked the DDI.
'Very little. Except that she wasn't involved in the murder at Nordhausen. And neither, according to her, was the Englishman.'
'Nothing else?'
'That she works for you and will only report to you.'
'Five hours to find that out. Christ, you could've called us earlier.'
Gerbhart had been under pressure from his superiors to hand the whole thing over to the Americans. He stood out against them; it went against the grain not to know what was going on. Bloody hell, it was his patch. 'It was difficult, what with the press and everything.' He'd have persevered if his boss hadn't finally succumbed to pressure and ordered him to call the Americans. 'They found the Goodenache body and panicked. They knew him from America and he'd promised to show them the old rocket sites in the mountains. From the War. That's why they were there. They took off for Dresden. While they were there, they saw their pictures in the paper. They left the hotel they were staying in — we checked that out — she's telling the truth — and decided to come to Berlin. She says they got mugged on the way. By some crazy Ossies.'
'Ossies?' asked Hilsman.
'East Germans. They were robbed and locked up in a house. She doesn't know where. They escaped and got a lift up here. They were heading for the American and British embassies. What they didn't know, if she's telling the truth, is that it was a stolen car. That's why they were stopped by a police car.'
'That it?' came in the DDI.
'We have a full transcript for you to read.'
'Later. I want to see her now.'
'Certainly. I'll come in with…'
'Alone. As you were instructed. '
Gerbhart shrugged and stood up. The DDI followed his example, Hilsman stayed where he was. His instructions were also specific. This was CIA territory.
'You're in big trouble,' the DDI said to Billie, after he showed her his credentials in the interrogation room. 'You look a mess.'
'I want something to eat,' she insisted.
'Later.'
'Now, damn it. I haven't eaten for nearly two days. You want me to starve to death in front of you?'
'Why didn't you ask the cops?'
'I did. Strong silent types. Easier for them to intimidate a woman.'
'Okay, okay.' He went to the door and called for Gerbhart. When they'd arranged for some sandwiches, he closed the door again and searched the room for a listening device. Satisfied that it was clean, he pulled up a chair and sat across the table from Billie. 'Now tell me what happened. All the way from New Orleans.'
The only interruption was fifteen minutes later when a policeman knocked on the door and brought in some stale, curled-up-at-the-edge cheese sandwiches and a flask of coffee. Billie was too hungry to notice and devoured the plateful that was in front of her. The DDI poured two cups from the flask and waited for her to finish. She continued her report over the coffee. The DDI never spoke, just registered what she said and made the occasional note so he could take her back over it at the end. It was nearly an hour before he spoke.
'You trust the Englishman?' was his first question.
'Yes,' she answered. Billie hadn't told him of their personal relationship, nor did she intend to. She didn't know the DDI already had a police report that her bed hadn't been slept in in Nordhausen. 'Why?'
'Don't you find it strange? I mean, just taking off like that. In New Orleans, after this guy, Fruit Juice. Then all the way over here.'
'No. Not when you know the man.'
'How do you know you weren’t set up? Just a cover for him.'
'I wasn't.'
'Why're you so sure?'
'Because I am.'
'Anything personal between you two?'
'No.'
He decided to leave it. 'And you think they're going to try something tomorrow. At the Reichstag.'
'It all points to that.'
'Maybe. Do you think he's gone there?'
'Knowing him — yes.'
'Okay. Let's go through it again. But this time we stop for questions.'
It took another hour before they were finished. Then the DDI left her, found Gerbhart and arranged for a hotel room, with police guards, for Billie. 'She says she wants some clothes,' he added.