The Fallen Eagles

by Geoffrey Davison

  The feeling of being watched became more real when he and Elka went for their train. At the entrance to the railway station, two leather-coated men stood, silently watching the comings and goings. It was Inspector Schafer and his assistant! When Leeburg saw them, he instinctively stopped in his tracks. Elka looked at him, puzzled at his hesitation.

  ‘Police,’ he said indicating the two men.

  ‘We have done nothing wrong,’ she said.

  They entered the station and walked to their platform. Leeburg could feel the Inspector’s eyes following them. What was he doing in Bregenz? he wondered. The Inspector had said he was from Innsbruck. What had brought him here? The fifty paces to the waiting train felt like a kilometre. Any second he expected his name to be called out and to be confronted by the Inspector.

  They entered a compartment and took a seat. The train started to move out of the station and Leeburg gave a sigh of relief. But his relief was short-lived. From the corner of his eye he saw the Inspector and his assistant standing in the corridor! They were following him!

  He felt a cold sweat on his brow. Elka spoke to him and he made some sensible reply, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He knew now that the authorities had their suspicions about him. They were keeping a watch on him until they had a case. He felt deflated. How long had they been watching him? Had they seen him arrive in Bregenz the previous evening? Had they seen him at the club?

  He pulled up the collar of his jerkin and buried himself in his seat. Elka took it that he was wanting to get some warmth and snuggled up to him. Leeburg closed his eyes and waited.

  When they left the train at Bludenz, the Inspector and his assistant followed. It confirmed Leeburg’s suspicions. He said nothing to Elka, but he sensed that she had realized what was happening. She remained silent. When they boarded their bus, they left the Inspector and his assistant standing in the open square, but the damage had been done. Leeburg felt like a doomed man.

  The next few days for Leeburg were like hanging on the edge of a precipice. At every corner he expected to see the Inspector. Each day when he returned to the Gasthof from his skiing classes he expected to find the Inspector waiting for him. It made him depressed and sullen.

  The atmosphere in the Gasthof didn’t help. Karl was still smouldering over their quarrel and remained unapproachable. Only their mother and Annalisa brought a touch of sanity and normality into the household. The daily papers, also, had a depressing air about them. The national issue to gain some form of political unity and identity was meeting with constant rebuffs. On the inside pages, notices of arrests and photographs of former prominent men still at large were a constant feature. And the number of French troops in the town seemed to increase.

  It was on the Thursday, the day that Karl went to Innsbruck with Sergeant Lefant, that Leeburg came face to face with Kurtz again. As he left Heckmeir’s shop, Muller was waiting for him with the message that Kurtz was in the Hotel Alpenhof and wanted to see him. He found Kurtz in the deserted bar, sitting at a table with a glass of beer. Kurtz called the waiter and ordered another drink as Leeburg joined him. The two men played with their glasses and looked at each other.

  ‘Cigarette?’ Kurtz held out his packet. Leeburg shook his head. Kurtz lit his own cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘I have some news for you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Reitzer?’ Leeburg asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Kurtz replied. ‘He is alive, as you thought.’

  ‘Where?’ Leeburg asked.

  ‘In Switzerland.’ Kurtz said calmly.

  ‘Where?’ Leeburg asked again.

  Kurtz inhaled his cigarette. ‘I’m not in a position to say just yet.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Leeburg asked angrily.

  ‘Take it easy,’ Kurtz said.

  Leeburg breathed heavily.

  ‘Supposing I told you where he is?’ Kurtz asked. ‘What then?’

  ‘That’s my business,’ Leeburg snapped.

  ‘You want to talk with Reitzer, don’t you?’

  Leeburg didn’t reply.

  ‘How do you think you would do that?’ Kurtz asked. ‘How do you think you are going to get into Switzerland? You have no passport so you can’t go by train or road.’

  ‘There are other ways,’ Leeburg said.

  ‘Agreed.’ Kurtz said. ‘There are other ways and you know these mountains well enough, but what happens when you get to the other side?’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘Can you?’ Kurtz asked. ‘I wonder.’

  Kurtz took a long drink. ‘On the other side of these mountains the police are just as active as they are here. They would pick you up before you had gone half a kilometre.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So you need a little help,’ Kurtz said.

  Leeburg was beginning to get the picture. ‘And you could provide that help,’ he said.

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘In exchange for what?’ Leeburg retorted.

  Kurtz stamped out his cigarette. ‘Look, Leeburg,’ he said forcibly. ‘You want Reitzer. All right, we can tell you where he is and get you to him, but we also want something. We want something taken into Switzerland.’

  ‘What is this something?’

  Kurtz gave a bland smile. ‘Does it matter?’ he asked. ‘If you are prepared to cross those mountains does it matter what you take with you? The risks are the same.’

  ‘I’ve got no desire to be mixed up with any of your filthy business,’ Leeburg said icily.

  ‘Everything has its price,’ Kurtz said dryly and added, ‘Have you heard of Inspector Schafer?’

  Leeburg’s pulse quickened. He hadn’t forgotten about the Inspector. What was the connection with Kurtz? ‘No,’ he lied. ‘Why?’

  ‘It appears that he is also interested in finding Reitzer,’ Kurtz said, and added casually, ‘Schafer is attached to the military investigation department responsible for war crimes.’

  Leeburg felt sick inside, like a trapped animal. If Kurtz could find Reitzer, it wouldn’t take the authorities long to locate him. And after that, what then?

  ‘How is it that you have been able to locate Reitzer and not the police?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘It so happens that Reitzer had to use our organization,’ Kurtz smiled. ‘To acquire funds from his mother. Through Alfoss. He left a trail which we were able to follow.’

  ‘How do I know you are telling the truth?’ Leeburg asked.

  ‘You don’t,’ Kurtz said, ‘but let me give you a few facts. Major Reitzer was wounded on September 9th 1944 in an ambush with a party of Italian partisans.’ He looked at Leeburg apologetically. ‘I needn’t say more about that,’ he said. ‘However, Reitzer returned to his battalion headquarters and was evacuated to a base hospital at Milan. He returned to the front on December 3rd and became second-in-command of the 134 Infantry Regiment. He remained with the regiment until the surrender in 1945.

  ‘Immediately the surrender became effective, Major Reitzer made his way to Lecco on the shore of Lake Como, and then to Lugano where his sister has a villa. For three months he hid in this villa, but his presence became an embarrassment to his brother-in-law, Herr Gunter.

  ‘In the winter of 1945, Reitzer made his way across Switzerland to Klisters where again his brother-in-law has an estate. At Klisters Reitzer made contact with a member of our organization and arrangements were made for a transfer of certain valuables from Frau Reitzer to her son. Arrangements were also made for the disposal of a number of paintings Reitzer had acquired during his stay in Italy. With the money he acquired from both transactions Reitzer was able to go into hiding. He is still in hiding. It is a place reasonably close to the border, but I assure you that without our help you will neither find it or be able to get to it.’

  Kurtz sat back with a satisfied look on his face and finished off his drink. Leeburg contemplated his glass. Kurtz’s facts seemed to fit the story that Leeburg had imagined. They also tallied with what he had been told by Fr
au Alrich.

  Mentally, he sighed. Kurtz knew where Reitzer was all right. It was now a question of how badly Leeburg wanted to see him. Did he want to see him enough for him to become involved with Kurtz’s illicit smuggling? Was it worth that? He wrestled with his conscience. Why did he want to see Reitzer? To ask if he was a murderer? Would Reitzer tell him? Would he tell anybody? Would the authorities ever find out? Could he make Reitzer talk? But the big question was could he live with his own conscience if he didn’t go to Reitzer and try and get the truth? Could he live with the doubt hanging over him? Could he endure much more of his mental confusion? He knew the answer, and the Inspector’s presence in Bregenz and on the train had confirmed it. He had to know one way or the other. He was made that way.

  Kurtz could sense the struggle going on in Leeburg’s mind. ‘Wouldn’t it be advisable for you to get to Reitzer before the Inspector?’ he asked.

  ‘Why?’ asked Leeburg sharply.

  ‘Then perhaps you and Reitzer can prepare your defence.’ So that is why he thinks I want Reitzer, Leeburg thought. He had already decided that Leeburg was guilty. He was under the impression that Leeburg was trying to save his own neck. Leeburg felt his blood boiling.

  ‘Look, Kurtz,’ he whispered angrily. ‘I want to find Reitzer to fill in some gaps in my memory, not to prepare any defence. I’m not one of your rats scurrying for safety.’

  Kurtz shrugged. ‘Have it your own way,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t alter the need to find Reitzer.’

  Leeburg scowled. He didn’t like having to deal with Kurtz, but he was in a corner. There was no alternative. ‘All right,’ he growled. ‘What do you want?’

  Kurtz leant forward. ‘The quickest way is from Gargellen over the Schlappinerjoch. We can prepare a reception committee at the other end. We can also give you the movements of the mountain patrols.’

  He made it sound simple, but Leeburg knew the mountains. Not many could cross over them into Switzerland. They were a dangerous, formidable barrier.

  ‘But you cannot afford to be seen leaving the area,’ Kurtz continued.

  He had it all worked out, Leeburg thought. He had expected Leeburg to agree. The thought irritated him.

  ‘In fact you must have an alibi,’ Kurtz continued. ‘On Saturday afternoon leave on the two p.m. bus for Bludenz. Tell everyone you are going to Innsbruck to see about entering the university. Tell them you might be away for two or three days. When you get to Bludenz, go to the railway station and purchase a ticket for Innsbruck. There is a train at six p.m. Remain in the station until the train arrives. Make yourself conspicuous. When the train is approaching, go to the toilet. There is a side exit leading to the goods yard. Leave by that exit and cross the goods yard into the street alongside the railway line. Make sure no one sees you. About one hundred metres along the street towards the town, at a crossroad, there is a boarding house. It is the only one. I will meet you in the entrance hall.’

  ‘How do I get to Gargellen?’ Leeburg asked.

  ‘That will be arranged,’ Kurtz smiled, ‘but make sure that the alibi we are preparing for you holds up to investigation. Don’t let anyone see you leave the station.’

  ‘Why all the secrecy?’ Leeburg asked suspiciously.

  ‘You are not dealing with amateurs,’ Kurtz said reassuringly. ‘We have done this before, many times. We make sure our deliveries are not lost en route.’

  ‘Just what am I delivering?’ Leeburg hissed.

  ‘You will find out on Saturday,’ Kurtz said.

  ‘And when do I get Reitzer’s address?’

  ‘At the same time.’

  Leeburg scowled. He was going to get nothing out of Kurtz. Either he did as he was told, or he was back to where he started from.

  ‘Bring your skiing clothes with you,’ Kurtz said, ‘but don’t wear them. You are going to Innsbruck, remember.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Leeburg said. ‘I won’t forget.’

  ‘Good.’ Kurtz smiled. ‘We will meet again on Saturday.’

  He held out his hand. Leeburg begrudgingly shook it, but he had no respect or liking for the man. He despised him. Not so much for his crooked dealings, but for the way he floated around the countryside like a well-to-do spider looking for recruits amongst the flies struggling to exist. Kurtz pulled the strings and got the rewards whilst his puppets did the work and took the risks. And Leeburg was going to be one of them. He didn’t like it. He felt the string might snap if there was any danger to the puppet master.

  CHAPTER 10

  As Leeburg stood in the kitchen, packing a rucksack for his journey, his mother appeared in the doorway with Elka by her side. A fleeting frown appeared on Leeburg’s face. He had purposely kept out of Elka’s way. He knew she expected him to visit her, but he didn’t want to talk to her until after he had spoken to Erich Reitzer.

  ‘Hullo, Paul,’ Elka said quietly.

  Leeburg’s mother discreetly left them. Leeburg stopped what he was doing.

  ‘Hullo,’ he said calmly.

  ‘I understand you are going to Innsbruck,’ Elka said.

  ‘Yes,’ Leeburg replied. He didn’t like lying to her, but there was no alternative. But Elka was not to be put off so easily.

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘On business,’ Leeburg said trying to make his reply sound casual. ‘I want to make some enquiries at the university, and attend to some private matters.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  Leeburg shrugged and said nothing.

  ‘You saw Kurtz on Thursday,’ Elka said abruptly.

  Leeburg frowned. She was going to be difficult.

  ‘That’s why you are going away,’ she added. ‘Isn’t it?’

  Leeburg continued with his packing.

  ‘Paul! Please tell me,’ she said. There was a note of concern in her voice.

  Leeburg looked at her. ‘Please don’t ask me to explain,’ he said. ‘Please.’

  ‘Why not?’ she asked heatedly. ‘Why won’t you tell me? What is it all about?’

  ‘It is my business,’ he retorted. ‘No one else’s.’

  He saw her face cloud over. He knew he had hurt her and it upset him.

  ‘What about last Saturday evening?’ she asked flatly. ‘Did that mean nothing to you.’

  He saw that she was on the verge of tears. He knew that she was in love with him, that she was worried about him.

  ‘No,’ he said with feeling. ‘It meant everything to me. That is why I am going.’

  She came up to him. ‘Paul, I want to know what there is between you and Reitzer. If you can’t trust me now, you never will.’

  She searched his eyes trying to break down his resistance. She wanted to help him, to share his troubles. She knew that if he loved her as much as she loved him, he would confide in her. ‘I love you, Paul,’ she said tenderly.

  She got through his barrier. She saw his face soften, but he looked away. He knew he would have to tell her some time. Was it better that he told her now before he found out the answer from Reitzer? Perhaps it was, he thought. Perhaps it was. Slowly he fastened the straps of his rucksack.

  ‘You told me that Reitzer was wanted in connection with the shooting of seven Italian peasants,’ he said solemnly. She nodded her head in agreement. Leeburg breathed heavily. ‘Well,’ he blurted out. ‘I don’t know whether it was Reitzer who shot them, or me!’ He looked her full in the face. She had visibly paled. Her eyes looked horror-stricken.

  ‘I don’t know!’ he said thumping his clenched fist on the table. ‘I don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t know!’ He looked at her again. ‘I don’t know because my memory is a blank. But I do know that I was there at the Villa Lucciano with Reitzer and the gun was in my hand, and the bodies were on the ground in front of me.’

  She stifled a gasp. ‘Oh! Paul,’ she cried.

  ‘For three years I have tried to remember. For three years I have hoped that something would trigger off that lapse in my memory.’ He gave a mocking
laugh. ‘And so have the Americans. They have questioned me and waited. Now they have the police watching me.’

  ‘So you are going after Reitzer to find out?’ she asked hoarsely.

  ‘Yes,’ Leeburg agreed. ‘I am going to find out. I have to.’

  There was a pregnant silence.

  ‘And do you expect Reitzer will tell you?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Do you think he will say, no you didn’t do it, I did?’ Her voice was become excited, almost hysterical. ‘Do you honestly think Reitzer will tell you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Leeburg shouted back. ‘I don’t know,’ he added quietly. ‘Perhaps he won’t. There are some things you don’t have to say, you can sense them. Reitzer won’t have to tell me. I will know. I will see it in his eyes. Reitzer was a soldier who liked killing. He wanted to make me into one as well. He was screaming at me to shoot them. I know that. I don’t know if I obeyed him. Nobody knows except Reitzer. Or maybe there are others. Maybe Reitzer and I were not alone, but I don’t know.’ He looked at her pleadingly. ‘Everything comes back to Reitzer,’ he said. ‘I must go. If I can only speak to him for a minute I will get my answer.’

  ‘If he gave the order, he is responsible,’ she said eagerly. ‘Even if you did do it, it was against your own wishes. Why else would you be trying to find out? You are not like Reitzer, Paul. He couldn’t make you into a killer. Don’t punish yourself for something you might not have done, or for something you might have been forced to do.’ She looked into his face. ‘Paul, it doesn’t matter to me,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  He put his arms around her and held her tight. Her body shook as she started to cry on his shoulder. For a while they stood together. When she stopped crying he looked down into her saddened face. Her big blue eyes were red-rimmed.

  ‘Elka,’ he said tenderly. ‘I knew last Saturday evening that I loved you. I do, very much. That is another reason why I have to go.’

  She clung to him. ‘Is there no other way?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘No,’ Leeburg sighed. ‘There isn’t. When I was in the P.O.W. camp I was interrogated by two American officers. I will never forget the look of disgust on their faces when they talked about the killing. I found I couldn’t look them in the eyes.’ He held her tight. ‘I want to be able to say to them, yes, I agree with you. I want to be able to look everyone straight into their eyes.’ He breathed heavily. ‘And if I was a party to it I will go and tell them.’