Chapter 13: Smoking Is Hazardous To Your Heath - Lisbon, January 1942

As Ilsa passed him the glass Clegg noticed her cigarette case on the bedside table. It was identical to Tereza's. Clegg wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it before. The bright red enamel shone like a beacon. Then he realised. When he had left the room it must have been face down, its gold, engraved face lying upwards. Ilsa had obviously moved it for some reason. As he lifted the glass of champagne towards his lips he suddenly realised why. He looked across at Ilsa and saw her watching him closely.

He threw the champagne in her face. She yelled, falling back on the bed. Clegg dived for his jacket, wresting Ilsa's pistol from his pocket.

Ilsa, wiping the champagne from her eyes, blinked as he threatened her with the weapon. "Please put your hands up, Mrs Lazlo," he said. "Or should it be Miss Lund or perhaps, even, Irena Lanz?"

Ilsa glowered at him.

"Out of bed, please," he ordered. Ilsa got up from the bed, completely naked, her hands raised. Clegg walked behind her, picked up the cigarette case and thumbed it open. Inside the two halves of a false cigarette, identical to the one in Tereza's case, betrayed Ilsa's intentions. "I don't imagine that the poison was in your drink, was it?" Clegg asked rhetorically. "Let's go through to the lounge," Clegg suggested with a wave of the pistol. "Somehow I'm not thinking of going to bed just now."

Ilsa walked ahead of him across the room. Clegg watched the perfect smoothness of her back and the exquisite line of her buttocks, cursing his luck. "She might have let me fuck her first," he thought. He followed her. "On the chair, here, please," he said picking up Ilsa's discarded dress and underwear. She sat down.

Cleg tied her wrists to the heavy arms of the chair using her stockings. She yelped as he pulled the knots tight. Clegg was less than sympathetic. He pulled them tighter still.

He tore two strips of cloth from her dress and used them to fasten her ankles one to each of the two front legs of the chair. With Ilsa helplessly bound, Clegg turned to pick up her handbag. He emptied out the contents on to his desk.

"My, my," said Clegg as he picked out an airplane ticket. "And I thought you were leaving for America by boat with Vitkor. Where does this take you, I wonder? Back to Paris?" He opened the paper folder. "Ah," he said, "to Prague. Does this suggest that your Gestapo masters are intending to rebuild Herr Strasser's operations, I wonder." Ilsa glowered at Clegg. He hadn't really expected a response. All she did in answer to his remarks was to struggle fruitlessly in an attempt to free herself from the chair.

Clegg went on sorting through the handbag's contents. He took out an envelop, a letter, a small card and a photograph. He read them through and knew what he had to do once he had dealt with Ilsa.

"If, you'll excuse me," he said, "I need to make some telephone calls." Clegg ripped another length of cloth from Ilsa's dress and pulled it across her mouth as a gag. Ilsa grunted in complaint.

By the time, Eduardo reached Clegg's hotel Ilsa's wrists and ankles were raw from her attempts to free herself.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said as Clegg opened the door and he saw the naked and helpless Ilsa.

"Not in the least," said Clegg. "I thought we were going to enjoy ourselves but I didn't like the wine she offered me." Eduardo looked puzzled. "Don't worry about it. We need to get this young lady back to England. I wondered if you could help."

Eduardo tugged at his chin. "Hmm," he said. "I can move her pretty much anywhere in Lisbon but further than that is difficult."

"The airport?"

"Yes, of course."

"That will be excellent. I have spoken to the British Embassy. There will be papers ready in the morning. A poor women unfortunately has to return to the UK after falling ill over here. She is being flown back on the British Overseas Airways flight leaving first thing tomorrow. Mrs Lazlo here will be that woman. I need somewhere to keep her until then and a doctor to see that she is suitably tranquillised for the flight. I understand it can be distressing for those that are unwell."

"That can certainly be arranged," Eduardo smiled. The naked Ilsa scowled. "I presume you want some clothes for her as well."

"If possible," Clegg smiled. "I'm afraid her dress got torn in a fit of passion."