by Ward Wagher
“That sounds almost as complicated as things here in Portugal,” he replied.
“Probably as complicated,” she said, “But, not as subtle. It’s scary the things you have to keep track of here in Lisbon.”
“It’s fun,” he said simply. “People tell me I’m a fussbudget, but I enjoy keeping track off all this.”
“It’s part of the job,” she replied.
“Right.”
A man in a dark suit walked up to them and handed an envelope to Misty. “Fräulein Simpson, Herr Schreiber asked me to deliver this to you.”
“Thank you,” she responded politely. She studied the envelope for a moment and then slipped it into her purse.
“Those SS swine sure seem to pay a lot of attention to you,” Fennes commented. “Did you do something in Berlin to stir them up?”
She giggled. “Oh, I think you might say that.”
He stared at her with increasing frustration. And, she laughed.
“Ralph, you understand about compartmentalization and need to know.”
“Yes, of course. I apologize if I was forward. The ambassador has warned me about being that way.”
“Forgive me,” she said, “I am being cruel.”
“No, no,” he replied quickly. “I was getting a bit nosy.”
“No matter. As it happens, I know most of the SS agents here. You see, I take a meal with Karl Rainer twice per week.”
He stared at her with his mouth open. “But that’s...”
“That’s following Director Donovan’s instructions. We needed an entry into the German government at a high level, and this provides it. And, you are correct. It provides all kinds of opportunities to compromise myself. But, if this job were easy, anybody could do it.”
“There’s that,” he conceded. “What’s Rainer like?”
“He’s an honorable man, and also quite ruthless. There is no question he is a loyal patriotic German.”
“And what does he think of you?” Ralph Fennes asked.
“That, my friend is a very good question,” she said.
“And was that envelope from Herr Rainer?” he asked.
She smiled at him as she touched the side of her nose with an index finger. “That’s in the need to know category.”
He fixed her with a sour smile. “You really ought to know better than to dangle something like that in front of another spook.”
She giggled. “May I assume it had the desired effect?”
“You may.”
“Now, if you will excuse me, Ralph, I really need to go powder my nose.”
She slipped out of the reception room and walked down the hallway to where the Ladies’ room was located. She had become accustomed to the German fetish for cleanliness and it reminded her once again that Portugal was a different country. The room was not very clean, and the smell was nearly nausea-inducing.
Misty quickly took care of her business and washed her hands at the sink. When she turned, there was a large old woman standing in the room and glaring at her. Misty jumped.
“There is not a lot of time, Miss Simpson,” the old woman said in perfect English. “You must keep Herr Schloss from leaving the building until the police can secure the rooftops.”
“Who are you?” she asked. “And how do you know this?”
“If you wish your friend Herr Rainer to succeed, you must help him. At this moment, it means watching out for Herr Schloss.”
“I don’t know who you are, and you are making me very nervous.” She brushed past the old woman and walked out of the restroom. She took two steps past the doorway and stopped. Karl had very concerned about Schloss’s trip to Lisbon. Perhaps she should remember her job, as well. She turned and walked back into the Ladies’ room. It was empty. She looked in each stall and opened the small janitor’s closet. The old woman was gone. And, Misty did not know how that was possible. She took another circuit of the restroom and then left again. She returned to the reception.
“Are you all right, Misty?” Ralph Fennes asked. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
She put her hand to her mouth and gazed around the room. Spotting Peter Schreiber talking to Cordell Hull, she made up her mind and marched over to him.
“Well, hello, Fräulein Simpson. You surely brighten the room by your presence.”
She nodded to Hull and then looked at Schreiber again. “Herr Foreign Minister, I need a moment of your time on a critical matter.”
Peter looked surprised. He glanced over at Cordell Hull, who looked puzzled. “Will you excuse us for a moment, Mr. Secretary?”
“Of course.”
He took her arm, and the stepped over to a corner of the room.
“This looks very serious, Misty. What is going on?”
“Herr Foreign Minister. I received a report… I have no way of determining the validity of the report. Only that Herr Schloss should not leave the hotel tonight until the local police forces have made sure to secure the rooftops across from the hotel.”
She watched as the color drained from his face. He quickly looked around the room to see where the Reich Chancellor was standing.
“You cannot verify?”
“Herr Schreiber. Peter, an old woman was in the restroom. She was frightening. She warned me to keep Herr Schloss from leaving the building. I have no idea who she was, or if she was even sane. But Karl was very concerned about Herr Schloss’s security.”
“For good reason,” Schreiber said.
He looked around and caught the eye of the SS security man who was detailed to him. A moment later, he was standing next to them.
“Yes, Herr Foreign Minister?”
“There may be a threat to the Reich Chancellor. Fräulein Simpson encountered an old woman who warned her about securing the rooftops across the street.”
“An old woman, Sir?”
“I didn’t know if I should say something or not,” Misty said. “I thought maybe she was crazy.”
“No, you were correct to call this to our attention, Fräulein. We can never be too careful with the Reich Chancellor’s security.”
He looked around the room in thought. He then turned back to Misty and Peter. “Thank you, Fräulein. We will take it from here.”
The security man eased away and moved over to one of the SS men detailed directly to Schloss. They spoke for a moment, then the first man walked over to another SS man, and after conversing, they quickly walked from the room. Schreiber smiled at Misty and walked back over to where Cordell Hull was looking at them curiously. Misty walked back over to the side of the room again.
“Now, what was that all about?” Fennes asked.
“A warning. An old woman told me to make sure the Reich Chancellor does not leave the building until somebody checked the rooftops across the street. I brought it to the attention of Schloss’s security detail.”
“And did you not think of the president’s security?” Fennes hissed. “Excuse me a moment.”
He walked over to the secret service agent standing next to the doorway from the room. They spoke for a moment and the man looked over at Misty in shock. He quickly walked over to her.
“Can you tell me exactly what happened, Miss Simpson?”
She relayed her experience in the Ladies’ room to the agent.
“And that would be why Frick and Frack left here so quickly.” the agent said.
“Frick and Frack?” she asked.
“The two German SS guys. I wish you had come to us first. But, never mind.” And, he quickly walked over to another Secret Service man.
“I hope I didn’t get you into hot water,” Fennes said.
“It would be my own fault, Ralph. I should have thought to talk to them. I wonder if we should talk to the Brits.”
Fennes shook his head. “Let’s leave that up to the professionals. Ask yourself the question, Misty. Who would be the most likely to put a long gun up on the roof?”
“Surely, Churchill...”
“Perhaps
you are not as cynical as I,” Fennes commented. “He is the one with the most to lose here.”
She studied him for a moment. “You’ve given me something to think about, Ralph.”
§ § §
September 22, 1942; 10:30 PM
Across from the Hotel Avenida Palace
Lisbon, Portugal
Colin Axelrod swore as he watched the security people trot out of the hotel and make their way across the street.
“Time to beat feet, Otto.”
Kuttner had been carefully removing the rifles from the bag and matching them with the ammunition. Hearing Axelrod’s tone, he spun around and took a quick, peek over the parapet. He ducked down.
“What now, Boss?”
“For one thing, get the guns packed up. We need to get out of here without getting caught.”
“Too right! He started sliding the rifles back into the duffel bags. “Those Nazi swine will be coming up the stairs and the elevator, I think.”
“Stay low and follow me,” Axelrod commanded.
They trotted across the roof and then jumped over to the roof of the next building. Fortunately, Axelrod had procured rubber-soled shoes for the project. This eliminated the clatter of leather-soled shoes and gave them the necessary traction to traverse the roof-tops.
A metal ladder was attached to one corner of the roof and carried them to within fifteen feet of the ground. Kuttner was able to drop quietly to the ground. Axelrod twisted his ankle and fell in agony. Kuttner bent over.
“Can you walk, Colin?”
Axelrod struggled to his feet. “Hell, yes I can walk. We need to get out of this death trap and around to the other side of the hotel. I imagine that they will use the back entrance when they leave.”
“How could they have figured it out?” Kuttner asked quietly.
“I don’t know. This operation was too clever by far. Too many moving parts.”
“Here; lean on me, Colin. You aren’t going to make any progress on your own.”
“We need to keep moving. This will likely be our only chance to take out Schloss in the short term.”
The late night worked to their advantage. The Lisboetas liked to eat their dinners late, and many would be found strolling the city streets. In this case, it was very quiet. They were able to make their way down the block and behind the hotel. An apartment house stood across the street from the hotel. The front door was unlocked, and they made their way up the stairs to the roof. The two Englishmen were amazed they encountered no one on their journey.
“Okay, get set up, Lad,” Axelrod whispered. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Do you have an escape route plotted, Colin?” Kuttner asked.
“There is not time for that. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”
Kuttner shook his head in the dark but continued readying the guns. This entire mission was turning into a nightmare. Originally, they were to have taken down the target at the airport. By using a telescopic sight on the rifle, they were comfortable that they could take the shot, and escape with minimal risk to themselves. Then, their sniper had eaten something disagreeable and was thoroughly incapacitated in the safe house. Colin decided he could manage the rifle if the range was closer, and they decided they had a better chance at the conference hotel. Kuttner privately thought his boss was crazy.
“You have the binocs?” Axelrod asked.
“Yes; right here.”
“Good. You will have to spot. You do know what Schloss looks like, right?”
“Right. I have seen the pictures.”
“Very well. When they start coming out, you will have to call the shot.”
§ § §
Fifteen minutes later, the SS man and the Secret Service agent walked up to Misty. “The rooftops were clear. We also could not confirm a large old lady was here in the hotel.”
“I know you must think I’m crazy.”
“Oh, no, no, no,” the Secret Service agent said. “You actually have all of us concerned. You did exactly the right thing to call this to our attention.”
“I believe we will arrange for the dignitaries to leave by the back entrance, tonight. And if you discover anything else at all, please let us know.”
If was after midnight that the party finally began winding down. As the main participants were shaking hands, and offering good wishes, the security people were in motion. The American and German security people had that grim look that indicated they were honoring the threat. The British security team looked curiously at the others. They instinctively knew something was happening, but not sure what.
Finally, the group moved towards the back door to exit into the warm summer night. The volume of sound in the room subsided considerably.
“Well, that’s done,” Fennes said. “Might I suggest that we visit the buffet one more time before the hotel people pick it up?”
“That is a very good idea,” Misty replied. “It will be a short night, but I am really hungry.”
Axelrod and Kuttner were ready when the attendees began leaving the hotel by the back door. Kuttner scanned the group with the binoculars, waiting for Schloss to exit the building.
“Target,” he said when the tall, distinguished-looking man in the dark suit stepped out onto the sidewalk surrounded by the security people.
“Where?”
“Passing the lamp post in three, two, one.”
Fennes began strolling with Misty across the rapidly emptying room towards the buffet table when the sound of a rifle shot, followed by screaming came from the outside.
“Oh, no!” Misty shouted as she began running towards the lobby. Surprised, Fennes was slower to respond and now chased her into the lobby.
As they ran into the lobby, one of the SS security people ran in from the outside, shouting.
“Call the hospital. We have a man shot out here.”
“Oh, no,” Misty cried. “Not the Reich Chancellor!”
Into the chaos of the lobby, four men carried a fifth. Misty noted the dark suit and the blood dripping on the floor. What was Germany going to do, she wondered. They carefully eased the wounded man onto a sofa in the lobby. She pushed forward to see the ashen face and the grimace of pain and recoiled in horror. It was not Schloss. Someone had just shot the President of the United States.
CHAPTER FORTY
September 23, 1942; 4 AM
German Embassy
Lisbon, Portugal
Heinrich Schloss strode into the reception room of the German Embassy. He had removed his tie and he looked rumpled and haggard. Peter Schreiber sat in the corner sipping a cup of coffee. When he saw Schloss, he stood up.
“Any news, Peter?”
“Nothing so far. Apparently, all the diplomats scurried for cover after the shooting. Our SS people are helping the Secret Service guard the hospital and working with the PVDE to uncover leads.”
“So, we don’t know yet if they actually intended to shoot President Wallace. And we do not know if he is even still alive.”
“Correct on both counts, Hennie. Perhaps you should try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will likely be a long day, and I can cover here tonight.”
“Perhaps I should,” he said. “But, I don’t suppose I will be able to sleep. I am confident I was the intended target tonight.”
“In other words, you think the English did this.”
“Don’t you?” Schloss asked. “We know it wasn’t us. The Americans are as motivated as we to get this war ended. I don’t think Ciano has the capability to pull something like this, even if he had the reasons.”
“Could it have been a rogue operator?” Schreiber asked.
“That’s a Karl question. He had nothing in his threat analysis about this. Neither did Gehlen.”
“Could Canaris have engineered something like this?”
Schloss shook his head. “I wouldn’t think so, however, that is something we need to have Karl look at. I suppose it is possible. The most likely candidate is England. And every
body else believes that as well.”
“I called the airport and told the pilots to get the plane ready. You will be able to leave in the morning.”
“You think the conference is over?” Schloss asked.
“Don’t you?”
Schloss stared into the distance for a few moments. “I think I’ll call Secretary Hull right after breakfast, with some suggestions for the day’s agenda. Churchill is looking for an excuse to leave town. I want to put that swine-diddler on the spot. I am determined not to leave Lisbon without a treaty.”
Peter stood up. “I’m sorry, Hennie. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll start getting the staff up to prepare for today’s meetings.”
“Let them sleep a couple of hours more, Peter. The Americans are going to be a center of confusion whatever ultimately happened to the president. I am going to suggest a pro forma meeting late afternoon. Churchill really cannot leave without looking very guilty. I want to play on that.”
“I think he really is guilty,” Schreiber commented.
“I think so, too.”
They both turned as Otto Skorzeny walked into the room with Agostinho Lourenco, who was the captain of the PVDE, the Portuguese secret police.
“We have some news, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Skorzeny said, coming to attention.
Schloss walked over to the PVDE captain and shook his hand. “Under other circumstances, it would be a pleasure to see you again, Captain.”
“Just so, Herr Eisengruber,” he replied with a smile.
Schreiber looked shocked, and then he laughed. Skorzeny looked confused. Schloss decided not to take him off the hook. During his first trip to Lisbon, Schloss had assumed the name of Eisengruber to give everyone plausible deniability. Under that guise, he had met the PVDE commander. Agostinho’s tongue in cheek probably indicated a sense of humor, Schloss decided.
“We have located and arrested the assassination team,” Agostinho said. “Several of them were recognized as being part of the British secret service. However, they are not talking.”
“How courageous of them,” Schloss murmured.
