Assignment - Black Viking by Edward S. Aarons

no labels. Aside from a Luger, the dead man had no identification. The face had a definite Tartar cast, a hint of deep Asia in its broad contours. Such a man might have ridden west with the hordes of Genghis Khan centuries ago.
    The body was a problem. In Durell’s business, you worked quietly, without attracting public attention. A police spotlight on these events, especially on a woman of such renown as Elgiva Nielsen, might end all hope of contacting his Soviet counterpart. On the other hand, he could not be sure who had sent these men after him. They were simply hired hands, gunmen. It was the mind and brain and plan behind them that he had to identify.
    Sigrid made a small sound of distaste.
    Elgiva approached them with her gliding, graceful walk, wrapped tightly in her dark cloak.
    He knew at once that there was an implacable hostility between these two women. Yet the younger Sigrid immediately smiled with apparently complete and sincere pleasure.
    “Elgiva, dear, I am so happy you are safe!”
    The other’s smile matched Sigrid’s, and they pressed their cheeks together briefly in greeting. “I do not understand what happened. Why should anyone wish to kill me?”
    “Maybe it was just Sam they were after.”
    Elgiva turned her great amber eyes to Durell. “Does this have to do with Peter and Eric? What we discussed?” “I’m sure it has,” he returned.
    “And little Sigrid? Her work is peculiar. Is it the same
    as yours, Mr. Durell?”
    “Somewhat. We’re working to find Peter and bring him home.” He turned to Sigrid. “Why did you say Professor Peter is your uncle? I know he’s your father.”
    She bit her lip. “I am sorry. It just seemed better not to seem so close to this problem—”
    “Sigrid often tells strange lies,” Elgiva said coolly. “She is a very strange child.”
    “Elgiva, you never liked me, but that is not reason for you to—"
    Their claws were showing. Durell intervened. “Let’s get inside. Elgiva, I’m sure you want to help us now. You didn’t believe how serious it was before. Peter is in grave danger. He’s a prisoner, and his machinery for weather control is being used by enemies of all society, against all humanity. Surely you see this now.”
    “I will not go with Sigrid,” Elgiva said.
    “Then fly to Stockholm with me, in the morning. Sigrid will join us there later in the day.”
    Sigrid started to protest, then pressed her lips together angrily. “It’s all your fault, Elgiva. You filled Daddy with idealistic nonsense, until he saw the world in the same distorted perspective you show it in your silly, old-fashioned poetry. They say you are a witch, and I believe it. You hypnotized poor Daddy and you want to marry him. But you never shall, I promise you that!”
    It was a side of Sigrid that she had not shown before. Under her calm voice was an icy contempt. But her words defeated her own purpose. Elgiva stiffened, her face paled.
    She tucked her hand in Durell’s arm and watched Sigrid’s hostile reaction to the possessive gesture.
    “You do not want me along, Sigrid?”
    “Stay here and spin your foolish tales of the olden days. You’ve done enough harm.”
    “But I think I shall accompany Mr. Durell. In Stockholm I shall decide just what to do.”
    Sigrid bit her lip in exasperation. “Do not trust her, gullible man. She will bewitch you, too.”
    “Maybe I’d like it,” Durell said.
12
    OLE OLSEN had gone into Visby, according to the desk clerk at the Snacksgarsbaden Hotel. Durell knew he had a small furniture shop on one of the town’s old streets, for sales to Visby tourists. It was part of Olsen’s cover, and there seemed nothing unusual about his going there.
    He needed Olsen’s help in disposing of the Tartar’s body and covering up the affair at Elgiva’s isolated house. Explanations to the police would be awkward. There were enough rumors in the world about the weather. If the public knew of the great official concern, there could