Jack Higgins – Night of the Fox

When they reached the Kubelwagen, Martineau said, “You get down in the back, just in case.”

It was too good to last, of course, and five minutes later, as he turned from the Corbiere Road into Route du Sud, he found two military police motorcycles parked at the side of the road. One of them stepped out, hand raised in the moonlight. Martineau slowed at once. “Military police,” he whispered to Gallagher. “Stay low.” He opened the door and got out. “Is there a problem?” At the sight of the uniform, the two policemen jumped to attention. One of them still had a lighted cigarette between the fingers of his left hand. “Ah, now I see, what we might term a smoke break,” Martineau said.

“Standartenfuhrer, what can I say?” the man replied.

“Personally, I always find it better to say nothing.” There was something supremely menacing in the way he delivered the words. “Now, what did you want?”

“Nothing, Standartenfuhrer. It’s just that we don’t often see a vehicle at this time in the morning in this sector.”

“And you were quite properly doing your duty.” Martineau produced his papers. “My SD card. Come on, man, hurry up!” He raised his voice and it was harsh and ugly.

The policeman barely glanced at it, hands shaking as he handed it back. “All is in order.”

“Good, you can return to your duties then.” Martineau got back in the car. “As for smoking, be a little more discreet, that’s my advice.”

He drove away. Gallagher said, voice slightly muffled, “How in the hell do you manage to sound such a convincing Nazi?”

“Practice, Sean, that’s what it takes. Lots of practice,” Martineau told him, and he turned into La Route Orange and moved toward Red Houses.

When they got back to the cottage, Sarah opened the door instantly to them. “Everything all right?”

“Perfect,” Gallagher told her as he followed Martineau inside. “We put the car over a cliff near La Moye and made sure it burned.”

“Was that necessary?” Helen shivered, clasping her arms around herself.

“We want him to be found,” Martineau said. “And if the sentries at the coastal strongpoints in the area are even half-awake they’ll have noticed the flames. On the other hand, we don’t want him in too good a condition, because if he was, there would be that knife wound to explain.”

Kelso said, “So, you had no trouble at all?”

“A military police patrol stopped us on the way back,” Gallagher said. “I was well out of sight and Harry did his Nazi bit. No problem.”

“So, all that remains now is for Guido to contact Savary in the morning,” Sarah said.

“No,” Martineau said. “Actually, there’s been a rather significant change of plan.”

There was general astonishment. Gallagher said, “Sweet Jesus, what have you been up to now?”

Martineau lit a cigarette, stood with his back to the flre and said calmly, “If you’ll all sit down, I’ll tell you.”

; nine the following morning Gallagher drove down to St. Helier, two more sacks of potatoes in the van. He didn’t call at the central market, but went straight to the troop supply depot in the old garage in Wesley Street. The first trucks went out with military supplies to various units around the island at eight-thirty, which was why he had chosen his time carefully. Feldwebel Klinger was up in his glass office eating his breakfast. Sausage, eggs, bacon, all very English. The coffee was real, Gallagher could smell that as he went up the stairs.

“Good morning, Heir General, what have you got for me today?”

“A couple of sacks of potatoes if you’re interested. I’ll take canned food in exchange, whatever youVe got, and coffee.” He helped himself to a piece of bacon from Klinger’s plate. “Whenever I see you, you’re eating.”

“And why not? The only pleasure left to me in this lousy life. Here, join me in a coffee.” Klinger poured it out. “Why are human beings so stupid? I had a nice restaurant in Hamburg before the war. All the best people came. My wife does her best, but more bomb damage last week and no compensation.”

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