‘Six days.’
‘During which—’
‘It is a job! Are you not pleased with what I have told you? Who knows what I may have for you next week?’
He released her and lay back. ‘I am being very schoolboyish. Seriously, it’s what Heydrich wants you to do that seems more important than what you get out of Chalyapov. How often do you hear from him?’
Anna got up and started to dress, but continued to speak in a whisper. ‘Whenever he wants something specific. Unless the situation changes again, I do not expect to hear from him for a while. He may have something he wants from Stalin.’
Clive sat up. ‘Stalin? What has he told you about Stalin?’ he hissed.
Anna peered into the mirror to freshen her make-up. ‘Only that he wants me to persuade Chalyapov to introduce me, and that I should obtain a working knowledge of the Kremlin.’
Clive swung his legs out of bed. ‘Holy Jesus Christ!’
Anna turned. ‘Sssh! What is wrong with that?’
He came over to stand against her. ‘My darling, how can a working knowledge of the Kremlin and access to Marshal Stalin be of any value to the Reich, unless we put that alongside the fact that the person obtaining this knowledge and this access is a trained assassin?’
Anna slowly sat down on the dressing stool.
‘Just as Heydrich commanded you to assassinate Churchill last May, which is why we had to get you out of England, remember? This is a death sentence. We can’t manipulate things here in Russia.’
Anna got up again, put on her hat and her mink.
‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.
‘I cannot disobey Heydrich.’
He took her in his arms. ‘And I cannot let you die.’
She kissed him. ‘It may not come to that. Chalyapov apparently tires of women as enthusiastically as he takes them up. I must make him tire of me as rapidly as possible, after I have discovered those military dispositions. Once he does that I will no longer have access to the Kremlin, and then there will be no reason for me to remain in Russia.’ They gazed at each other, and kissed again. ‘That is what we must believe. I will see you on Tuesday.’
*
For the first time since that terrible March day in 1938, she was frightened. She lay in bed, unable to sleep, staring into the darkness. It was snowing outside, and for all her warm clothing she had become chilled on the walk home. Now she found herself shivering. She could not doubt that Clive’s analysis was correct; she should have worked it out for herself. But up till now her Russian adventure had been no more than an enjoyable caper, in which she had been able to use her authority to its utmost. But no one was ever given such authority without being expected to earn it.
The situation was very similar to that in England the previous year. When she had received the dreadful command from Berlin, she had felt in an impossible position. To kill Churchill would have meant her execution, and once she had been executed there would be no more reason for the SD to keep her family alive. The same applied now. But not to carry out her instructions, and save her own life, would equally have condemned her family to death. So, as the outcome was inevitable in either case, why should she not save her own life? And live with those deaths on her conscience for the rest of that life?
She remembered thinking back then that at least the English were gentlemen. She would not have been tortured, and even the act of placing the noose over her head would be carried out with the utmost courtesy. She could expect no courtesy in Russia.
She finally fell asleep just before dawn, and awoke with a start to find Marlene sitting on her bed and peering at her.
‘Countess! Anna! Is something the matter?’
Anna blinked. For the past hour she had been sleeping so heavily that she was unsure where she was. The curtains had been drawn back and the room was filled with bright winter sunshine.
‘Anna!’ To Anna’s consternation, Marlene threw both arms round her to hug her and began nuzzling and kissing her neck. Then one of the hands closed on her breast. ‘Oh, Anna, I adore you so. I admire you so. I love you so. Anna—’
Anna threw her off violently. Marlene gave a little shriek and collapsed on the floor. Anna sat up. ‘Do not do that again. What time is it?’
‘Nine o’clock,’ Marlene gasped, her cheeks crimson.
‘Oh my God!’ Anna threw back the covers and leapt out of bed. Marlene stared at her; she slept in the nude. ‘Has anyone asked for me?’
‘There is a message from that man Chalyapov.’
Anna went into the bathroom to shower. ‘I will be down in five minutes.’
Marlene stood in the doorway to watch her. ‘Anna! Please! Do not be angry with me. Mother told me . . .’
Anna stepped out of the stall and towelled herself. ‘Whatever your mother told you about me was a lie. And my name is the Countess von Widerstand. Only my friends may call me Anna. And if you ever touch me again I will break your neck.’
*
She was more upset than she had supposed she would be. But the girl was definitely proving a nuisance. At the same time she had no wish further to upset the internal working of the Embassy by asking Heydrich to recall her.
Anyway, she had more than enough on her plate to get on with. The situation was actually easier than she had dared hope. Chalyapov was certainly overboard. He wanted to see her as often as possible, which was a bore, but his adoration was also productive.
‘Our army?’ he asked, holding her on top of him as he liked best, so that he could wrap his legs around hers. ‘What does a pretty girl want with an army?’
‘I adore armies,’ Anna said, shaking her head gently to and fro so that her hair trailed across his face. ‘My grandfather was a famous soldier. And I have heard so much about the great Red Army. I should love to see some of it.’
He kissed her. ‘And so you shall. But the Red Army is everywhere, and getting about in this weather is very difficult.’
‘Don’t you have some units on the border?’
‘Well, of course. We have three fronts situated on the border.’
‘What is a front?’ Anna asked innocently.
‘It is what you would call an Army Corps.’
‘And you have them on the border? Who are you going to fight?’
He grinned. ‘As you said, every country needs to have units on its borders. We have no desire to fight anyone in Europe.’
‘And outside of Europe?’
‘Ah, well, the Japanese are a threat. Do you not know that we have been fighting an undeclared war with Japan along the border with Manchuria for the past three years?’
‘I did not know that,’ Anna said more innocently yet.
‘Well, we don’t publicize it. But we generally win the battles. On the other hand it is something we have to sort out eventually. Those little yellow men seem to wish to take over all of Asia. We could never allow that.’
‘I wish I were a Russian,’ Anna said dreamily, wriggling her hips as she felt him hardening beneath her.
‘I have never heard a German say that before.’
‘But you are so immense, so strong, so unbeatable.’
He chuckled. ‘Are you speaking of me or the country?’
‘You are the country,’ Anna assured him and spread her legs.
*
‘Now that is very interesting,’ Clive said. ‘If Russia and Japan were to start a real war, that would change quite a few things.’
‘Is England not friendly with Japan?’
‘God, no! We were once, but since 1922, when we went along with the USA in reducing the strength of all navies at the expense of Japan, they have been increasingly hostile. And since this war started they have been flexing their muscles more and more contemptuously. They feel that we cannot fight Germany and Japan at the same time. And the damned thing is they are right. They are even giving us orders, like telling us to close the Burma Road through which Chiang Kai-Shek’s army obtains most of its supplies. And we
have felt obliged to do that to avoid any risk of a clash. That really is a bitter pill.’
Anna kissed him. ‘You will work it out. Does not Great Britain always win the last battle?’
He ruffled her hair. ‘So they say. I assume you are reporting all of this to Heydrich?’
‘I have done so, certainly. But I have not heard anything further from him.’
‘And what about the Kremlin, and Stalin?’
‘I am about to start working on that.’
‘I wish to God you wouldn’t.’
Anna got out of bed and began to dress. ‘You know I must,’ she whispered. ‘I will see you next week.’
*
‘Well?’ Groener demanded. ‘What do you want?’
Marlene stood in front of the door. ‘To speak with you, Herr Groener.’
‘You? What do you have to say to me? You work for the Countess von Widerstand.’
‘I am required to do so, yes, Herr Groener. But my loyalty must be to the Reich.’
Groener stared at her for several seconds. ‘You have something to tell me about the Countess?’
‘There is something I think you should know.’
‘Is she not your friend?’
‘She is not my friend, Herr Groener. She is nobody’s friend. She is an utterly selfish person, as cold as ice.’
Groener stroked his chin. ‘I see. So what would you like to say about her? I know that she has been away these past few weeks. I understood that she had gone to the country with Herr Chalyapov.’
‘Yes sir. But now that she has returned, she has begun leaving the Embassy just about every night and staying out till three in the morning.’
Groener snorted. ‘Do you think I don’t know that, you silly girl?’
‘Do you also know where she goes?’
‘She meets Herr Chalyapov, of course. He appears to be totally infatuated with her. Count von Schulenburg seems prepared to accept this relationship. He and I have received instructions from Berlin that she is not to be interfered with, so I assume they think she is obtaining information from this lout. Perhaps she is. But surely you know all this as you are her assistant? Even if,’ he added, ‘you seem to have fallen out with her.’
Marlene ignored the implied criticism. ‘Suppose I was to tell you that she does not always go to Chalyapov?’
Groener raised his eyebrows. ‘Where else does she go?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Then what are you saying?’
Marlene advanced right up to the desk. ‘Herr Chalyapov is a heavy smoker. When the Countess returns from him, her clothes stink of cigarette smoke, but at least once a week when she comes in, there is no smell.’
‘And that is proof that she has been with someone else? Perhaps Chalyapov does not smoke every night.’
‘He is a chain-smoker, Herr Groener.’
Groener considered. ‘Then she is no doubt servicing some other Russian as well. One who does not smoke.’
‘Perhaps. But don’t you think it is something you should know about?’
‘I have told you that I have been given specific instructions, from General Heydrich himself, that under no circumstances am I to interfere with Fraulein Fehrbach’s activities. That includes interrogating her as to those activities.’
Marlene looked as if she was about to stamp her foot. But she kept her temper. ‘Not even if she is betraying the Reich?’
‘You have given me no proof of that. Provide me with proof that she is engaged in some subversive activity, and I will act.’
Marlene regarded him for several seconds, then she said, ‘You are asking me to risk my life.’
‘Now you are being melodramatic.’
‘I do not think you know this woman, Anna Fehrbach.’
‘I know all I need to know: that she is a glamorous little bitch who enjoys the patronage of the head of the Gestapo. That is not difficult to understand, in view of her looks. That he chooses to employ her as a whore is his business, just as the fact that she appears to enjoy it is hers.’
‘Then you are unaware that she is a trained killer.’
Groener leaned back in his chair. ‘You are starting to irritate me, Fraulein. How can a twenty-year-old-girl be a trained killer?’
‘Are you aware that my mother was Commandant Hannah Gehrig of the SD?’
‘Which is no doubt why you have been given a position in the service. Yes, I know of your mother, Fraulein. I also know that she is presumed dead.’
Marlene nodded. ‘I believe that she is dead, too. But perhaps you do not know that when she disappeared she was Fraulein Fehrbach’s controller, and that before then she had personally supervised Fraulein Fehrbach’s training, both as an agent and as an assassin. She told me that Fraulein Fehrbach had killed several times, before she was even twenty.’
‘And she was never arrested for these crimes?’
‘They were carried out on the instructions of the SD, of General Heydrich himself. All except one, which she claimed was in self-defence.’
‘I will say again: if you feel that Fraulein Fehrbach is doing something, anything, that could harm the Reich, prove it. Unless you can do that, do not trouble me again.’
Marlene stared at him. ‘I would like a weapon.’
‘What?’
‘I have told you, if I am to secure the proof you wish, I will have to endanger my life. I need to be able to protect myself.’
‘You mean to shoot Fraulein Fehrbach.’
‘If I have to.’
‘And you understand that should you kill her without providing proof of what you claim, you will hang.’
‘If I have to shoot her, it will be because I have secured that proof.’
Groener considered for a last few moments, then opened a drawer in his desk, took out a Walther PPK, and held it out. Marlene gazed at it. ‘That is only a five millimetre shot.’
Groener shrugged. ‘It will kill, if accurately aimed and fired at not more than twenty-five metres.’
Marlene remembered shooting at the man in the training camp, with a pistol exactly like this, and being unable to hit a vital part. But she did not think she would be unable to kill the bitch who had so arrogantly rejected her. She took the pistol, and tucked it out of sight beneath her blouse. ‘I shall also need permission to leave the Embassy as I choose at any hour of the day or night. Written permission.’
Once again Groener considered for several seconds. Then he pulled a block of headed notepaper towards him and began to write.
*
‘So where have you been the past month?’ Clive asked. ‘Last Tuesday was the loneliest night of my life.’
‘Except, surely, when drifting around the Mediterranean with a bullet in your backside,’ Anna suggested. She kissed him. ‘I have been working.’
‘I am sure. On exactly which part of Chalyapov’s anatomy?’
‘You are in a grouch. I have been with Ewfim to inspect the troops.’
‘Say again?’
‘He took me to Brest-Litovsk, and then up and down the border. They have an awful lot of troops concentrated there. He even introduced me to the various generals and showed me over some of their units.’
‘And you have relayed this information to Heydrich?’
‘That is my job, just as I am now relaying it to you.’
‘I don’t imagine even a vast Russian army perched along the Polish border is about to invade Great Britain. Do you think they are planning a war with Germany?’
‘Ewfim says definitely not.’
‘Then why are they there?’
‘He says because they have to be somewhere, and because Stalin is paranoid about his borders.’
‘You believe him?’
‘Well, the troops I saw did not look as if they were preparing to go to war. Mind you, it is still ten below.’
‘And in another month or so it may be up to zero. What do you think Heydrich will make of this information?’
‘I have no ide
a. It may even put his, or Hitler’s, plans back a bit. Which can’t be a bad thing. But I am sure I will receive follow-up instructions in due course.’
‘And what progress have you made in that other direction?’
‘Two days ago I took tea with Marshal Stalin.’
‘You what?’
‘Fact. I have virtually the run of the Kremlin. Everyone adores me. I told Ewfim that I would like to become a Russian citizen and he is working on it. He told Stalin about me and I was invited to tea. Have you ever met him? Stalin, I mean.’
‘You are operating out of my class.’
‘He is a charmer. He speaks through that huge moustache and makes me think of my grandfather. My real grandfather, not the invented one.’
‘And because of this “charm”, you are going to commit suicide?’
‘I would rather not. I am working on it. Now, let us make love. We have talked business long enough.’
*
‘Oh, my darling girl.’ Clive held her close, kissed her forehead, her chin, her cheek, her eyes, her nose, and then her mouth. ‘To have you here, and know—’
‘You know nothing,’ Anna said fiercely. ‘I have received no instructions as yet, except that I should become acceptable in the Kremlin. This I have done. When I receive further instructions, I will tell you, and we will discuss it.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Now I must go. I will see you next Tuesday.’
She got out of bed, and he caught her hand. ‘I won’t be here next Tuesday.’
Anna paused in the act of pulling on her cami-knickers. ‘Where will you be?’
‘I have been recalled to England.’
‘Why?’
‘Presumably they are happy with the way things are going here.’
‘So who will be my contact?’
‘Commander Sprague.’
Anna smoothed her dress. ‘He’s not really my type.’
Clive got out of bed to take her in his arms. ‘You don’t have to go to bed with him. In fact, I would prefer it if you didn’t. But he’ll be here on Tuesday nights. All you have to do is bring him up to date, have a drink, and then push off.’
‘Does he know about you and me?’
‘I haven’t given him chapter and verse, but he’s not a fool. On the other hand, he is a gentleman. He won’t bring it up unless you do.’
Angel in Red Page 16
