Eagle Has Flown, The

by Higgins, Jack

  ‘Miss Lavinia Shaw?’ he enquired.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Harry Conlon. I phoned your brother last night. He’s expecting me.’

  ‘Major Conlon.’ There was a sudden eagerness about her. She put down the brush and comb she was using and ran her hands over her breeches. ‘Of course. How wonderful to have you here.’

  The well-bred upper-class voice, her whole attitude, was all quite incredible to Devlin, but he took the hand she offered and smiled. ‘A pleasure, Miss Shaw.’

  ‘Maxwell is out on the marsh somewhere with his gun. Goes every day. You know how it is? Food shortages. Anything’s good for the pot.’ She didn’t seem to be able to stop talking. ‘We’ll go in to the kitchen, shall we?’

  It was very large, the floor flagged with red tiles, an enormous pine table in the centre with chairs around it. There were unwashed dishes in the sink and the whole place was cluttered and untidy, the lack of servants very evident.

  ‘Tea?’ she said. ‘Or would you like something stronger?’

  ‘No, the tea would be fine.’

  He put the case carefully on the table with the bag of cycle lamps and she boiled water and made the tea quickly, so excited and nervous that she poured it before it had brewed properly.

  ‘Oh, dear, I’ve ruined it.’

  ‘Not at all. It’s wet, isn’t it, and hot?’ Devlin said.

  He poured a little milk in and she sat on the other side of the table, arms folded under her full breasts, eyes glittering now, never leaving him. ‘I can’t tell you how absolutely thrilling all this is. I haven’t been so excited for years.’

  She was like a character in a bad play, the duke’s daughter coming in through the French windows in her riding breeches and gushing at everyone in sight.

  ‘You’ve been in Germany recently?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he told her. ‘I was in Berlin only the other day.’

  ‘How marvellous to be part of all that. People here are so complacent. They don’t understand what the Führer’s done for Germany.’

  ‘For all of Europe, you might say,’ Devlin told her.

  ‘Exactly. Strength, a sense of purpose, discipline. Whereas here …’ She laughed contemptuously. ‘That drunken fool Churchill has no idea what he’s doing. Just lurches from one mistake to another.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but he would, wouldn’t he?’ Devlin said drily. ‘Do you think we could have a look round? The old barn you used for your Tiger Moth and the South Meadow?’

  ‘Of course.’ She jumped up so eagerly that she knocked over the chair. As she picked it up she said, ‘I’ll just get a coat.’

  The meadow was larger than he had expected and stretched to a line of trees in the distance. ‘How long?’ Devlin asked. ‘Two-fifty or three hundred yards?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘Getting on for three-fifty. The grass is so short because we leased it to a local farmer to graze sheep, but they’ve gone to market now.’

  ‘You used to take off and land here a lot in the old days?’

  ‘All the time. That’s when I had my little Puss Moth. Great fun.’

  ‘And you used the barn over there as a hangar?’

  ‘That’s right. I’ll show you.’

  The place was quite huge, but like everything else the massive doors had seen better days, dry rot very evident, planks missing. Devlin helped her open one of the doors slightly so they could go inside. There was a rusting tractor in one corner, some mouldering hay at the back. Otherwise it was empty, rain dripping through holes in the roof.

  ‘You’d want to put a plane in here?’ she asked.

  ‘Only for a short while, to be out of sight. A Lysander. Not too large. It would fit in here and no trouble.’

  ‘When exactly?’

  ‘Tomorrow night.’

  ‘My goodness, you are pushing things along.’

  ‘Yes, well, time’s important.’

  They went out and he closed the door. Somewhere in the far distance a shotgun was fired. ‘My brother,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and find him, shall we?’

  As they walked across the meadow she said, ‘We had a German friend who used to come here in the old days, Werner Keitel. We used to fly all over the place together. Do you happen to know him?’

  ‘He was killed in the Battle of Britain.’

  She paused for a moment only, then carried on. ‘Yes, I thought it would be something like that.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Devlin told her.

  She shrugged. ‘A long time ago, Major,’ and she started to walk faster.

  They followed a dyke through the small reeds and it was Nell who appeared first, splashing through water, gambolling around them before running away again. There was another shot and then Shaw emerged from the reeds in the distance and came towards them.

  ‘Look at this, old girl.’ He held up a couple of rabbits.

  ‘See who’s here,’ she called.

  He paused and came forward again. ‘Conlon, my dear chap. Nice to see you. Won’t shake hands. Blood on them.’ He might have been welcoming Devlin to a weekend in the country. ‘Better get home and find you a drink.’

  They started back along the dyke. Devlin looked out across the expanse of reeds intersected by creeks. ‘Desolate country, this.’

  ‘Dead, old man. Everything about this damn place is dead. Rain, mist and the ghosts of things past. Of course it was different in my grandfather’s day. Twenty-five servants in the house alone. God knows how many on the estate.’ He didn’t stop talking for a moment as he walked along. ‘People don’t want to work these days, that’s the trouble. Damn Bolshies all over the place. That’s what I admire about the Führer. Gives people some order in their lives.’

  ‘Makes them do as they’re told, you mean?’ Devlin said.

  Shaw nodded enthusiastically. ‘Exactly, old man, exactly.’

  Devlin set up the radio in a small study behind the old library. Shaw had gone to have a bath and it was Lavinia who helped festoon the aerials around the room and watched intently as the Irishman explained the set to her.

  ‘Is it much different from the one you had before?’ he asked.

  ‘A bit more sophisticated, that’s all.’

  ‘And your Morse code. Can you still remember it?’

  ‘Good heavens, Major Conlon, you never forget something like that. I was a Girl Guide when I first learned it.’

  ‘Right,’ Devlin said. ‘Let’s see what you can do then.’

  In the radio room at Prinz Albrechtstrasse, Schellenberg studied Devlin’s first message then turned to Ilse and Asa Vaughan. ‘Incredible. He intends to pull Steiner out tomorrow evening. He wants you at Shaw Place in time to leave no later than midnight.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to get moving,’ Asa told him.

  ‘Yes, well, the Lysander was delivered to Chernay yesterday,’ Schellenberg said. ‘It’s only a matter of getting ourselves down there.’ He said to the radio operator, ‘Take this message to Falcon. “Will meet your requirements. Departure time will be confirmed to you tomorrow night.” ’

  He started to walk out and the operator called, ‘I have a reply, General.’

  Schellenberg turned. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A pleasure to do business with you.’

  Schellenberg smiled and kept on going, Asa and Ilse Huber following him.

  In the study, Lavinia turned from the radio set. ‘Did I do all right?’

  Her brother was sitting by the empty fireplace, a tumbler of whisky in his hand. ‘Seemed fine to me.’

  ‘You were excellent,’ Devlin said. ‘Now this set is different from the one you threw away in one respect. It has a direct voice capacity for short ranges only. Say twenty-five miles. That was why I gave them the frequency reading. I’ve adjusted it and all you do is switch on and you’re in business. That means you can talk to the pilot when he’s close.’

  ‘Marvellous. Anything else?’

  ‘Sometime after seven they’ll contact you f
rom the French base to confirm departure time so stand by. Afterwards, you place the cycle lamps in the meadow as I described to you.’

  ‘I will. You may depend on it.’ She turned to Shaw. ‘Isn’t it marvellous, darling?’

  ‘Terrific, old girl,’ he said, eyes already glazed and poured another drink.

  But by then Devlin had had enough and he got up. ‘I’ll be on my way. See you tomorrow night.’

  Shaw mumbled something and Lavinia took Devlin back to the kitchen where he got his coat and hat.

  ‘Will he be all right?’ Devlin asked as she took him to the front door.

  ‘Who, Max? Oh, yes. No need to worry there, Major.’

  ‘I’ll see you then.’

  It started to rain as he went down the drive and there was no sign of the van. He stood there, hands in pockets and it was thirty minutes before it turned up.

  ‘Did it go well?’ Ryan asked.

  Mary cut in, ‘We’ve had a lovely time. Rye was a fine place.’

  ‘Well, I’m happy for you,’ Devlin said sourly. ‘Those two didn’t even offer me a bite to eat.’

  Asa was just finishing a late lunch in the canteen when Schellenberg hurried in. ‘A slight change in plan. I’ve had a message saying the Reichsführer wants to see me. The interesting thing is I’m to bring you.’

  ‘What in the hell for?’

  ‘It seems you’ve been awarded the Iron Cross First Class and the Reichsführer likes to pin them on SS officers himself.’

  Asa said, ‘I wonder what my old man would say. I went to West Point, for Christ’s sakes.’

  ‘The other complication is that he’s at Wewelsburg. You’ve heard of the place, of course?’

  ‘Every good SS man’s idea of heaven. What does this do to our schedule?’

  ‘No problem. Wewelsburg has a Luftwaffe feeder base only ten miles away. We’ll fly there in the Stork and carry on to Chernay afterwards.’ Schellenberg glanced at his watch. ‘The appointment’s for seven and he takes punctuality for granted.’

  At six thirty it was totally dark on the Thames as Ryan nudged the motor boat in towards the shingle strand. He said to Mary, ‘Just sit tight. It shouldn’t take long.’

  Devlin picked up the bag of tools and the torch. ‘Right, let’s get moving,’ and he went over the side.

  The water in the tunnel was deeper than it had been before, at one point chest high, but they pressed on and reached the grill in a few minutes.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Ryan asked.

  ‘Michael, you said you thought it would come away easy. Now wouldn’t I look the original fool if I turned up to grab Steiner tomorrow night and found the damn grill wouldn’t budge?’

  ‘All right, let’s get on with it,’ Ryan said.

  ‘And no banging. I don’t want someone on their knees up there in the chapel wondering what’s happening down here.’

  Which is what made the whole thing rather more difficult than it had first appeared. The slow, careful probing between the brickwork took time. On occasion, several bricks fell out of place at once, but others proved more difficult. It took half an hour to clear one side.

  Fifteen minutes into working on the other, Ryan said, ‘You were right, dammit, the thing’s a sod.’

  He pulled at the grill angrily and it fell forward. Devlin grabbed at his arm, pulling him out of the way and got a hand to the side of the grill at the same time, easing it down.

  He took the lamp and peered inside, then handed it to Ryan. ‘You hold the light while I go and take a look.’

  ‘Watch your step, now.’

  Devlin went through the hole and waded inside. In there, the water was now up to his armpits, covering the tops of the tombs. He made it to the steps and started up. A rat scurried past him and dived into the water. He paused on the top step, then very gently tried the handle.

  There was the faintest of creaks and the door eased open. He could see the altar, the Virgin on the other side floating in candlelight. He peered round the door cautiously. The chapel was quite deserted and then the outer door opened and a nun came in. Very quietly, Devlin closed the door and retreated down the steps.

  ‘Perfect,’ he said, to Ryan as he clambered through the hole. ‘Now let’s get out of here.’

  At the Luftwaffe base, Schellenberg gave orders for the Stork to be refuelled, commandeered the station commander’s Mercedes and driver and set out for Wewelsburg with Asa. It started to snow and as they approached, Wewelsburg was plain to see, light at the windows and over the main gate in total disregard of any blackout regulations.

  Asa looked up at the castle and its towers in the falling snow. ‘My God!’ he said in awe. ‘It’s incredible.’

  ‘I know.’ Schellenberg reached forward and closed the glass partition so that the Luftwaffe driver couldn’t hear what they were saying. ‘Looks like a film set. Actually it’s a personal retreat for the Reichsführer, a centre for racial research and a home-from-home to the élite of the SS.’

  ‘But what do they do there?’

  ‘The Reichsführer is obsessed with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. So, he has his twelve most trusted lieutenants sit at a round table. His knights, you see.’

  ‘And you’re not one of them, I take it?’

  ‘Very definitely not. No, you have to be a lunatic to indulge in those games. They have a memorial hall with a swastika in the ceiling, and a pit in which the remains of these special ones will be burnt on death. There are twelve pedestals and urns waiting for the ashes.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ Asa said.

  ‘No, quite true. I’ll show you if we get a chance.’ Schellenberg laughed and shook his head. ‘And people like these are handling the destinies of millions.’

  They booked in at the entrance hall and left their greatcoats and caps with the sergeant of the guard who checked his register.

  ‘Yes, General Schellenberg, the Reichsführer is expecting you for seven o’clock in his private sitting room in the South Wing. I’ll take you up, sir.’

  ‘No need. I know the way.’

  As Asa followed Schellenberg across the hall and they turned along a corridor he said, ‘You’re right. This place puts Louis B. Mayer to shame.’

  Schellenberg checked his watch. ‘We’ve got fifteen minutes. Come on, I’ll show you that memorial hall I told you about. It’s just along here. There’s a little gallery, as I remember. Yes, here we are.’

  There were perhaps a dozen steps up to an oak door. It opened easily and he could immediately hear voices. He paused, frowning, then turned to Asa and put a finger to his lips. Then he opened the door cautiously and they went in.

  The circular room was a place of shadows, only dimly lit. Asa was aware of the pedestals and urns Schellenberg had described, the pit beneath the ceiling swastika, but it was the people present who were most interesting. Rossman, Himmler’s aide, stood to one side waiting. The Reichsführer stood in the pit itself, face to face with Sturmbannführer Horst Berger. They all wore black dress uniform.

  ‘I have brought you here, Berger, to this holy place before you depart on what I can only describe as your sacred mission.’

  ‘An honour, Reichsführer.’

  ‘Now let’s go over the details. You will meet the Führer’s plane which will land at the Luftwaffe base at Cherbourg at six tomorrow night. I shall be with him. You will escort us to this Château de Belle Ile where we will spend the night. At seven o’clock the following morning the Führer will have breakfast with Rommel and Admiral Canaris. They will arrive by road.’

  ‘And when do I take action, Reichsführer?’

  Himmler shrugged, ‘It doesn’t really matter. I suppose the end of the meal might be appropriate. How many men will you have in the guard?’

  ‘Thirty.’

  ‘Good. That should be enough.’

  ‘Hand-picked, Reichsführer.’

  ‘Good – the fewer the better. We are a special brotherhood, those of us invo
lved in this, for there are some who would not agree with what we intend,’

  ‘As you say, Reichsführer.’

  ‘General Schellenberg, for instance, but he’s cleverer than the proverbial fox. That’s why I wanted him elsewhere these past three weeks. So, I gave him this ridiculous mission to occupy him. To bring Steiner out of England. An impossibility. I happen to know from our intelligence people that the agent working for us in London, Vargas, also works for the British. We didn’t tell Schellenberg that, did we, Rossman?’

  ‘No, Reichsführer.’

  ‘So we may deduce that the Irishman, Devlin, will not last too long over there.’

  ‘I couldn’t be more pleased, Reichsführer,’ Berger said.

  ‘We could have won this war at Dunkirk, Berger, if the Führer had allowed the panzers to roll on to the beaches. Instead, he ordered them to halt. Russia, one disaster after another. Stalingrad, the most catastrophic defeat the German Army has ever suffered.’ Himmler shuffled away and turned. ‘Blunder after blunder and he still won’t listen.’

  ‘I see, Reichsführer,’ Berger said. ‘All men of sense would.’

  ‘And so inexorably, Germany, our beloved country, sinks deeper into the pit of defeat and that is why the Führer must die, Berger, and to accomplish that is your sacred task. Rommel, Canaris, the Führer. A dastardly attack on their part leading to the Führer’s unfortunate death followed by their own deaths at the hands of loyal SS men.’

  ‘And afterwards?’ Berger said.

  ‘We of the SS will naturally assume all governmental powers. The war may then be continued as it should be. No weakness, no shirking by anyone.’ He put a hand on Berger’s shoulder. ‘We belong to the same sacred brotherhood, Major, I envy you this opportunity.’

  Schellenberg nodded to Asa, edged him out and closed the door.

  ‘My God!’ Asa said. ‘Now what happens?’

  ‘We keep the appointment. If he finds out we overheard that lot we’ll never get out of here alive.’ As they hurried along the corridor Schellenberg said, ‘Whatever he wants, follow my lead and not a mention that Devlin’s got things to the stage they are.’