Moving swiftly, Diedre went up the steps and into the embassy, her head held high in her pride at being an Englishwoman, and one determined to defend everything her country stood for.
Within minutes of giving her name to the young woman seated at the reception desk, she saw Tony Jenkins hurrying toward her. He had a bright smile on his face, and was obviously happy to see her standing there.
A moment later he was shaking her hand. “Lady Diedre, good morning, and welcome back.”
“It’s nice to be here, Tony,” she said, and allowed herself to be led away, down a short corridor to his office.
Once inside, he gave her a huge bear hug. She hugged him back, and then they stood apart and smiled at each other.
“I can’t tell you what a relief it is to see you,” he said.
“I know what you mean. I feel the same.”
“Let’s sit down over there on the sofa, and then I think we should go for a walk.” As he spoke he gave her a knowing look.
Diedre nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Why stay cooped up inside when it’s such a lovely day?” She swung her head around, her eyes searching the walls and ceiling, and then she stared at Tony, mouthed, “It’s not wired, is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s better we go out before we get interrupted. Somebody might pop in.”
“I understand. What about Sir Nevile? I should pay my respects to the ambassador.”
“He asked me to explain that he is unavailable at the moment. But he welcomes you, and is looking forward to seeing you and your family tomorrow evening.”
Tony stood, went over to his desk, and picked up some envelopes. “These are your invitations to the reception and dinner, Diedre. I thought of sending them over to the Adlon by messenger, and then decided just to give them to you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and took them from him. There was one for her, another for Cecily and Miles, and a third for Daphne, Hugo, and Charlie. “We’ll all be there with bells on,” she said with a chuckle. Opening her handbag, she put the three envelopes inside, and got up. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
Fourteen
They got out of the taxi on the Tiergartenstrasse, and went straight into the Tiergarten, after Tony had paid off the driver. Diedre knew the park well, having strolled through it in the past, and it was one of the few places in Berlin today where tranquility still reigned.
It was truly beautiful, laid out in the manner of a traditional English park, with large expanses of green lawns, limes and horse chestnut trees and many weeping willows growing everywhere. The abundance of magnificent trees aside, the flowering bushes and flower beds were in full bloom this month, and the air was fragrant with their mingled scents.
Tony and Diedre made their way to a secluded spot near one of the artificial ponds where there was a wrought-iron garden seat.
Once they were seated, she said, “You didn’t say much in the taxi, Tony, so do let’s talk now. It’s so tricky when we speak in code.”
“But safe,” he said, and smiled at her. “My office isn’t wired, I have it checked all the time. Very simply, I didn’t want to stay at the embassy because I knew we would be interrupted. People popping in and out. That’s the reason for our visit to the Tiergarten.”
“It’s nice,” Diedre answered. “My sister Daphne wants to come here later. But actually she hasn’t taken to Berlin. I sense that she’s picked up on the free-floating apprehension that’s in the air.”
“Most people do, Daffy Dilly.”
She laughed. “I knew you’d have to call me that once today. But that’s it, not again. Understood?”
“Understood.” He laughed with her, then said, “I think I might have someone who could handle a suitcase for you.”
Diedre sat up straighter on the garden seat and looked at him alertly. “I thought all of your contacts had gone missing.”
“They have. This one fell into my lap, so to speak, and quite unexpectedly.”
“Who is he?”
“It’s a she.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She’s titled, well-known in Berlin, socially acceptable everywhere, young, quick, and clever. And quite by accident I learned that she’s associated with one of the secret underground movements, you know, those anti-Nazi groups who help to get people out.”
“Have you mentioned anything to her yet?”
“Not exactly. You’ll meet her tomorrow. I put her on the invitation list for the reception, and she’s accepted. You’ll also meet some of her friends, of the same ilk, I suspect, oh, and a lovely Englishwoman who’s married to a German prince. Come to think of it, you might know of her. I believe she comes from a family in Yorkshire.”
Diedre frowned, her mind racing. And then it came to her in an instant. “Is her name Arabella von Wittingen?”
“Yes, she’s married to Prince Rudolf Kurt von Wittingen.”
“Her maiden name is Lady Arabella Cunningham, her brother is the Earl of Langley, and he still lives at Langley Castle in North Yorkshire. Daphne knew her slightly when they were young girls. How interesting. Daphne will enjoy talking to her, I’m sure.”
“Now that we’re in a safe place, tell me about the people you wish to get out,” Tony said. “I don’t know anything, as you’re well aware. It’s been so difficult on the phone.”
“I will tell you. But there’s just one thing … I did wonder if your phone at the flat is safe? Sure nobody’s listening in?”
“It’s safe. I have ways and means of checking. I’ve someone clever with that kind of thing. So, how many exit visas are we talking about? That was never very clear.”
“Four.”
“It’s too many, Diedre. There’s been such a clampdown lately and people are getting scared!” Tony exclaimed, his smile fading. “They think they’ll get arrested.”
“I understand. My sister-in-law, Cecily Swann, has a personal assistant by the name of Greta Chalmers, and it’s her family who are trapped here. Cecily’s trying to help Greta.”
“What’s their name?” Tony asked, sounding anxious.
“Steinbrenner. Greta’s father is a professor of philosophy and—”
“Professor Helmut Steinbrenner, the famous expert on Plato?” Tony interrupted. “My God, this is such a strange coincidence. That’s the third time his name has come up in the last few days. It is him, isn’t it?”
“I believe so. He is definitely an authority on Plato. Why has his name come up, Tony? That’s a bit bothersome, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. We have another important visitor here from London, Diedre, Sir Anthony Parry, the author, journalist, broadcaster, and he’s also a professor at Cambridge. Big, big name in academia.”
“I know that, I’ve read some of his columns in the Daily Telegraph,” Diedre said. “Has he mentioned Professor Steinbrenner?”
“Yes, he has. At the beginning of the week he asked me if it was at all possible to invite Professor Steinbrenner to the reception tomorrow. As a personal favor to him. They are old friends. And so I did. I included Mrs. Steinbrenner, and then one of the newspapermen I know from the press corps here was asking about him.”
“Has Professor Steinbrenner accepted?” Diedre cut in.
“I’ll have to check that out. I didn’t pay much attention, mainly because I was just doing a favor for Sir Anthony.”
“Do you have any idea why a newspaperman would ask you about Professor Steinbrenner?” Diedre asked, her face thoughtful.
“No. But he’s a friendly chap, owes me a few favors, so I can easily find out. But let us get back to that very important point. The exit visas. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you the supply has dried up. You could go to Valiant.”
“I will not go to him! Don’t mention him!” Diedre exclaimed, cutting across Tony, her voice sharp, angry.
“All right, all right. I won’t bring him up again. He’s verboten.”
Diedre took a deep breath, shook her head. “Sorr
y, Tony. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. To continue, I’m afraid we have another problem.”
“What is it?” He looked at her swiftly, his light gray eyes suddenly turning anxious.
“Their passports have J for Jew stamped on them,” Diedre said.
“Oh God, no! I can’t get new passports. Not anymore.” Tony slumped back against the garden seat, looking and feeling defeated.
Diedre took another deep breath and said, “What’s the worst scenario? Obviously not getting any exit visas. Could you get one?”
“Probably, if my new contact works out, and helps me.”
“Professor Steinbrenner has two children. I’m certain he will want to get one of them out first.”
Tony closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh. Then he sat up and said, “A child. How are we going to handle that, Diedre? A child couldn’t travel alone. It’s too dangerous for one thing. A child is too obvious a target in more ways than one. If you get my drift.”
“I do. A target for everyone. But when I say child, I don’t mean a young child. From what Cecily told me, I believe Elise, the professor’s younger daughter, is about sixteen or seventeen.”
“That’s better, easier, but it’s still a tough one. A young woman traveling alone on a train. They’re full of troops today, Diedre. Troops going on leave, going to other postings. A woman of any age is a bit vulnerable, actually.”
“You’re right, of course. Look, I did some hard thinking in Zurich, and I came up with a plan, working on the assumption you could only get one exit visa, if that. And—”
“I should never underestimate you, should I, Daffy Dilly?”
“No, you shouldn’t, Toby Jung,” she shot back through her laughter. “This is what I thought might work. I have a friend in American intelligence, whose former college roommate is an impresario. This man is often in Berlin, visiting the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. He’ll do occasional favors for his best buddy. I’d put him on the train out of Berlin that goes to Paris via Aachen. With the girl. To protect her, so to speak.”
“That’s the border town before the crossing into Belgium and then France, and what if something goes wrong?” Tony asked. “A civilian wouldn’t know what to do.”
“I’ve made that trip, and I realize there are very tough guards at the border. Passengers have to get off the train, show their passports, exit visas, whatever travel documents they have, and the guards do open suitcases. But things don’t often go wrong. You’ll have to brief this man, the escort, and if he sees something odd, or feels there are suspicions about them, he’ll simply get off the train with the girl, and go into the town of Aachen. From there he’ll contact you.”
“Understood, and I’ll have to take it from there…” He let his sentence trail off. They didn’t have a safe house in Aachen now.
“It won’t go wrong,” Diedre assured him.
“What about the passport the girl has? With J stamped on it?” Tony suddenly asked.
“If the girl has a return ticket to Berlin, she won’t come under any suspicion. She’s going on vacation to Paris, returning home to Berlin in two weeks.”
“And she’s going with a man, is she?” Tony shook his head. “That might look strange to some people, especially if he’s older.”
“I agree. The alternative is to put the man on the train alone in the same carriage. The girl will be told he’s there to watch over her, and therefore he’s not a threat. But they’ll behave as if they don’t know each other, look like total strangers.”
Tony nodded his head vehemently. “That’s much better. I think that will work. How do you know this fellow will do it?”
“I don’t. But it is a workable plan, a good one,” Diedre asserted.
“What happens when the girl gets to Paris?”
“He’ll take her to the British embassy, where she’ll get an entry visa for Britain. It will be waiting for her. And then they’ll take the train to London together, and I’ll pick it up from there.”
“Do you think Germans who are Jewish and have a J stamped on their passports are likely to travel, to go on vacation?” Tony pursed his lips. “I can’t help wondering if the guards might not think it odd. And there are often Gestapo on the trains.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but the J is to proclaim they’re Jewish. It’s not to stop them going anywhere. The passport is valid. Look, they have a passport, nobody’s taken it away from them.”
“Right. I get your point. So the passport with J is not really a stumbling block. However, I’ll see if I can get a new one. But it won’t be easy, and it’ll be costly.”
“Thank you. And money is no object, Tony. Whatever is needed.”
“What happens if I manage to obtain two exit visas? Does that mean Mrs. Steinbrenner will be going, which would make everything easier, don’t you think?” Tony cocked his head to one side, eyeing his boss curiously.
“I do indeed, but I believe the professor will want his son to get out. At least that’s what Cecily has said to me. That will have to be last-minute planning.”
Tony nodded, and then said carefully, “Going back to problems. Let’s say the American gent and the girl jump ship in Aachen. Where will they go? They’ll be adrift. We don’t have a safe house there anymore.”
“We do, actually,” Diedre told him. “I’ll give you the details later. Now, what is the name of the person I’m going to meet tomorrow, the one who might help with a suitcase?”
“I’ll tell you over lunch,” he said.
* * *
The restaurant was in a narrow alley in the middle of a tangled web of back streets in an unfashionable part of Berlin. But they served the best homemade Bavarian food and it had been Tony’s favorite for several years. He was a regular, and because of his inherent charm, good manners, and generous tips he was treated royally by Frau Weber, the proprietor, and the small staff of waiters.
He always had the same table in a corner near the front door with his back to the wall. He could easily see everyone who entered and left, and if necessary, he could be out of there in a flash.
Diedre loved the little restaurant as well, and whenever she was in Berlin, Tony took her there. And that was where they were headed when they left the Tiergarten and hailed a taxi on the Tiergartenstrasse.
After receiving a warm welcome from Frau Weber they were shown to Tony’s usual table, and within minutes tall glasses of lemonade appeared along with the menus. Neither of them drank alcohol when they were working, and so after a few sips of the lemonade, Tony leaned closer to Diedre, and said, “I’d like to tell you about my new contact before we order.”
“Yes, yes, do,” Diedre said, “I want to know all about her.”
“I don’t know too much, but certainly enough for you to understand where she’s coming from, the background of her rather turbulent life.”
“Turbulent?” Diedre raised a brow questioningly, frowning. Turbulent backgrounds alarmed her.
“Yes, I’m afraid so, although she seems intact on the surface, controlled, calm. Anyway, here goes. Her name is Princess Irina Troubetzkoy. Her father, Prince Igor Troubetzkoy, was murdered in 1917, when Irina was about six and her mother, Princess Natalie, in her early twenties. Because of his death and the fall of the Romanov autocracy, they fled Russia. It is my understanding that her mother is a cousin of the late tsar, by the way.” Tony paused, took a swallow of lemonade.
Diedre said, “And so they came to Berlin?”
“No, they didn’t, at least not at first. They were in various countries, and spent quite some time in Poland where they had close friends in the Polish aristocracy. Ten years ago they came to Berlin and stayed, tired of being refugees apparently and wandering from country to country.”
“Did her mother work? Or Irina when she was older? How did they manage to live, do you know?”
Tony shook his head. “I’m not sure. But I don’t think Princess Natalie worked, or Irina when she grew up. The person who intro
duced me to Irina just recently implied that they had managed to escape with a lot of jewelry and some money, and certain Romanov relatives who had also escaped helped them financially.”
“It’s the same story about many White Russians who fled the revolution. But I will say this, those I’ve met proved to be very resilient, and commendable.”
“Good words to use. I think Princess Irina and her mother must have been extremely resilient indeed over the years. Anyway, the good news is Princess Natalie recently married a Prussian baron, a widower, and at last they have a real home. The Herr Baron has a house on the Lützowufer, and all seems to be well with them, and the marriage is a grand success, so I’m told.”
“Happy endings warm the heart,” Diedre murmured quietly. “So, what makes you think Princess Irina can help us get an exit visa, or visas?”
“I’m sure it will be only one, Diedre, the way things are at the moment.” Tony leaned back in the chair, looking off into the interior of the restaurant. At last he said, sotto voce, “A close friend in my line of work who’s at another foreign embassy in Berlin tipped me off that Irina often works with an underground anti-Nazi group. The ones helping Jews, dissidents, and Catholics to leave Germany. He made me swear to keep her secret a secret.”
“I fully understand. Your secret is my secret. How old is she?”
“I figured out she must be in her mid-twenties since she was six in 1917. She was probably born in 1911. She’s attractive, rather good-looking, in fact, and loaded with charisma. She appears to have led a life of ease and luxury, when that’s quite to the contrary. But you’ll meet her tomorrow.”
“I assume I’m meeting her as an English socialite and not a woman who works at the War Office?”
“Correct, and that’s why I’m so pleased you have Lady Daphne and her husband with you, and your brother and his wife … it all plays well for me. You’re important British visitors on holiday in Berlin.”
Diedre nodded. “I agree, and that means you’ll be doing the asking, dealing directly with Princess Irina?”
“Yes, I will. Don’t worry about that. You’ve got to keep your cover. Obviously. Now, let’s order, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished.”
The Cavendon Luck Page 9
