The Man Who Played Trains: The gripping new thriller from the author of Playpits Park

by Richard Whittle

  Recently he had been taking extra care to double lock the door. He knew he had turned the key clockwise twice. Then, to test it, he had unlocked and relocked it. Now it unlocked after only one turn. He had no doubt at all someone had been in the house.

  Inside he repeated the checks he’d made when he returned from Spain. The rooms were untouched and the windows secure. But they would be, wouldn’t they? You don’t come in through a window when you have a key to the door.

  He began to doubt himself. Perhaps he was wrong. Maybe his unlocking and locking had been muddled – and if that were true, then perhaps he hadn’t locked the basement either, or switched off its lights.

  Knowing how awkward it was to ease the basement key from behind the gas meter box in the dark, he took the spare key from a hook in the hall. With an umbrella in his hand he opened the front door. Rain beat noisily on the roof of the Volvo as he dashed to the basement.

  The back garden was dimly lit, not by the basement light but the bright windows of the rooms he’d just visited. He was sure he was wasting his time. The basement light was off. The door would be locked, there was no point going further. He was becoming paranoid.

  He was about to turn back when he remembered the words writ large on the wall of his Kilcreg classroom – A JOB WORTH DOING IS WORTH DOING WELL – words seen every school day for years and now etched on his brain. He kept going, down to the door.

  Still certain the door was locked he grabbed its handle. Half-turning his body in readiness to go back, he gave the door a shove. The door opened unexpectedly and caught off balance he tumbled into the room. So did the door key.

  Spargo, stooping, ran the flat of his hand over the floor. Though he’d heard the key chink on the floor, his sweeping hand didn’t find it. Standing again he reached back for the door, but that wasn’t there either. He had tumbled further into the room than he realised.

  Bat-like, he listened to the reflections of his own small sounds. With a floor of plain concrete and a low ceiling the place had an echo of its own, an echo familiar to Spargo, an echo it didn’t have now. It was muffled, not sharp like it should be. There was someone – or something – in the basement that should not be there.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  THEO TAPS ON THE DOOR of the stable block room. It is snatched open by Walter, who stands in the doorway in a collarless shirt, his uniform trousers are pulled high on dark braces. His face is pale. He stares at Theo as if unsure what to say.

  ‘You have been gone for four hours! ‘What in god’s name have you been doing?’

  ‘Three and a half hours.’

  ‘Don’t get clever with me.’

  ‘The Reichsmarschall has a model railway in a roof of the house. We were there.’

  ‘You have been playing toy trains? With Göring?’

  Theo smiles. ‘I had no choice. He is not a man to argue with.’

  ‘You are a bloody madman! Tell me what was said!’

  ‘Locomotives… rail track… changes to his layout. Design of some of our locomotives. Full-size ones.’

  ‘I want the truth, Volker. I want to know what questions he asked and what answers you gave. Did he mention me?’

  ‘Only to say that you were a trustworthy officer.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You would tell me if there was anything else?’

  ‘Göring is not what I expected. I thought he would be more aggressive, more like our other leaders. More like our Führer.’

  ‘He is not the man he used to be, he no longer behaves like a gangster. Did you notice the pills?’

  ‘Pills? I thought they were sugar sweets. He had them in a tin. He swallowed one every few minutes.’

  ‘Paracodeine. He was once addicted to morphine. I’m told his body is riddled with scars from his fighter pilot days. He swallows around one hundred of those things every day and they make him docile. He is so worried about his pallor that he uses rouge.’

  ‘How do you dare to say these things, Walter? It is not good to talk like this.’

  ‘And why not? We are not overheard. Surely you talk of such things with your fellow U-boat officers, those you trust? Are they so special that you trust them and not me?’

  ‘We have been through this already. I no longer know you. How can you expect me to treat you like a friend?’

  Walter nods. Considering how to respond he strokes his chin. ‘Yes, we have been through all this. And you are right, the fault is mine. Over the years I have not made friends easily, it is difficult to know who to trust. But enough of this. Now you’ve had the dubious privilege of meeting Göring. What did you think of him?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say. I’m not used to that kind of company. I felt as if I was walking on eggs. I had to watch everything I did and said.’

  ‘What was he wearing? Was he carrying his pistol?’

  ‘Not that I noticed. He was wearing breeches and a hunting jacket. He was dressed as if he was about to go out to shoot deer with a bow and arrow. Or maybe people.’

  ‘You would have noticed his pistol. It is American, a Smith and Wesson revolver, a cowboy’s gun. Since the attempt to kill Hitler he’s armed himself with it. He even has a Stetson, a wide-brimmed cowboy hat he wears when he’s hunting. He is fond of America. You would not believe how dismayed he was when they entered the war.’

  ‘Have you been involved with him for so long?’

  ‘I have never met him. These are things I hear. It is my job to know such things.’

  Theo nods slowly. ‘So tell me, Walter. What exactly is your job?’

  Hoping Walter will at last open up to him, Theo suggests they eat together in Theo’s hut. To his surprise Walter readily agrees, admitting he finds eating in the officer’s mess difficult.

  ‘I was a damn fool to assume the rank of Major,’ he says. ‘It means I am answerable to higher ranks. In this place there are many and they ask too many questions. I should have taken the rank of Generalmajor. But I was told that if I had high rank I would draw attention to myself.’

  ‘Who told you? And how could you give yourself a higher rank?’

  Walter doesn’t respond. They are walking to the hut. When they reach it Theo goes for the door but Walter stops him and turns and looks back. There is nobody, nothing but the track and tall trees.

  ‘Don’t go in.’ he says. ‘Keep walking. We have things to discuss. Take the path through the trees.’ He points. ‘No, not that way. That path there…’

  ‘You were going to tell me about your job.’

  ‘Keep quiet, I will do the talking. I mentioned we have a crisis in Germany – come back here, don’t walk on ahead. Our leaders say it is vital the Reich should not die, and some make plans to take the fight elsewhere. They believe there are countries that will support us and provide us with a base.’

  ‘What use is a Reich without Germany? It would be like an engine without a car.’

  ‘For the Reich to live, our leaders must be protected. It is important that they are taken to safety.’

  ‘You sound like Dr Göbbels. You know as well as I do it’s the fanaticism of our leaders that has got us into this mess.’

  ‘Just listen! Some of our leaders saw the end when the Americans joined the war, it was unforeseen and should not have happened. The more enlightened ones have even established businesses throughout the world, did you know that?’

  ‘How is that possible?’

  ‘There are around two hundred Nazi owned companies in Switzerland, two hundred in Spain and one hundred in Argentina. All are financially sound. All trade on behalf of the Reich. Not openly, of course.’

  ‘And the German people? What will they think when they hear their leaders have abandoned them?’

  Walter shrugs. ‘How should I know? It is not for me to justify our leader’s decisions.’

  ‘What about the Reichsmarschall?’

  ‘Our Hermann has no plans to get out. Whatever else the
y say about him, he is no coward. He believes the Allies will let him continue to live the life of a medieval baron. He believes that the Allies – particularly the English aristocracy – will treat him with respect. The Englishman Lord Halifax has stayed here, at Carinhall, as have several others.’

  ‘They will stick Göring against a wall and shoot him, just like they’ll shoot the rest of them.’

  ‘He thinks not. He no longer makes decisions or has a say in state matters. He thinks the very worst that will happen is he will be exiled. At best he’ll be allowed to stay in his castle.’

  ‘He has a castle?’

  ‘He has places everywhere, I told you. He has a castle between Nürnburg and Bayreuth. Maybe you have heard of it – Schloss Veldenstein – he inherited it from his Jewish godfather, would you believe!’

  ‘And what is your part in all this?’

  ‘I am a small cog in a big machine. You are an even smaller cog. Without all its cogs a machine cannot work properly. As an engineer you must know that.’

  They have reached the lake. Though they can see across the water, a thin mist fogs the far distance. Walter stops and looks around. As if concerned the trees might hear him he tugs Theo’s sleeve and leads him to the water’s edge.

  ‘The Reichsmarschall will be removed safely from Germany when the time is right, even if it has to be done by force. I was given the task of finding an experienced U-boat commander, someone I could trust. You will understand my dilemma, there are few such men left. It was purely by chance I noticed your name on a list they supplied to me.’

  Theo listens and makes no response. He is no conspirator, he wants no part of it. He waits for more, but Walter seems to have finished.

  ‘Tell me why I did not receive orders to do this from Naval High Command.’

  ‘If we are to save our leaders – against their will in some cases – it follows that they must not know our plans.’

  ‘This cannot be. A U-boat cannot be made ready for the Reichsmarschall without the knowledge of naval high command.’

  ‘To prepare a vessel for this needs a shipyard, not a navy. The necessary people have been informed. A vessel has been prepared and you will take command. You should consider it an honour.’

  ‘I consider it madness! What do you think will happen when you move in on our leaders? You’ll get cut down before you get within fifty metres of them. Do you think the Führer will come quietly? Do you really think the SS guards around Himmler and Bormann will stand aside for you?’

  ‘When the time comes that is exactly what they will do. Calm yourself, it is not your problem. By involving you I am merely obeying orders.’

  ‘And if I refuse?’

  ‘You cannot refuse, there is too much at stake. You were the one who pressured me into telling you these things and because of that you are now part of it. While there is still hope, our leaders must remain here to fight. Only at the very last moment will they be taken to safety – though if we leave it too late then all exits will be blocked. Timing is everything.’

  ‘And what are these exits?’

  ‘I am not party to such detail. My guess is that from Berchtesgaden they will go to Switzerland.’

  ‘Berchtesgaden couldn’t be further from our northern ports. If Göring goes south then you won’t need me. To keep him near our ports you will have to keep him here, is that what you are planning? Is that why you are here? Am I part of a kidnap plan?’

  ‘I have told you more than is wise. Now come, Theodor. It is time to eat.’

  After their meal they return to the woodland. This time they go inland, away from the lake. In a clearing they pass the only defensive position Theo has seen – an anti-aircraft gun. It is unmanned. Walter leads the way with deliberation, stopping only when they reach the top of a flight of concrete steps leading underground. Daylight is fading as they descend them, treading with care.

  The steel door at the foot of the steps was made as an exit, it has no handle. There is, however, a hole for a key, a key Walter takes from his coat and turns in the lock. Holding it he attempts to tug the door open. Words hiss between his teeth.

  ‘Help me, damn it!’

  Theo reaches around him, managing to gets his fingers around the flanged edge of the door. When the gap is wide enough both men slip through into darkness, closing the door behind them. Walter throws a switch. A row of widely spaced bulbs on one wall reveal the place is not an air raid shelter as Theo expected but a low-ceilinged, white painted store, stacked to the roof with wooden crates.

  ‘These are Hermann’s best pieces from his Berlin houses. Some were in the truck that brought us here. You accompanied priceless works of art.’

  ‘One wooden case looks much like another to me.’

  ‘There are times when I find your humour irritating, Theodor. I suppose it’s a U-boat thing.’

  ‘You should not call me Theodor. So if they are priceless, why was there only one guard on the truck?’

  ‘Sometimes it is better not to advertise what you are carrying. And in any case, who in Germany is going to attack a Luftwaffe truck? Now, look at the cases. I want your advice. The cases are supposed to be waterproof. What do you think?’

  ‘They are plywood. I’m guessing it’s marine ply, plywood made with waterproof glue. It won’t protect the contents.’

  Walter nods. ‘I suspected as much. What additional protection would they need if they were to be transported by sea?’

  ‘If they were kept in a dry hold, probably nothing more. The risk is greatest when they are being loaded and unloaded.’

  ‘And if they were inside metal containers with watertight seals?’

  Theo goes to stroke his beard but there is nothing there. ‘Ammunition boxes, you mean? Still a risk, especially on a long sea journey.’

  ‘Who said anything about a long sea journey?’

  ‘Argentina is one of the few countries likely to welcome our leaders. Portugal also. But Portugal is in Europe, it is too close.’

  Walter nods again. ‘I knew I made the right choice with you. The only thing left for you to do is to learn how to keep your mouth shut. So tell me how we can keep these crates safe.’

  ‘Salt water is corrosive, as I am sure you know. Steel corrodes easily. Bronze is best.’

  ‘What about copper?’

  ‘Not as good as bronze.’

  ‘What if they were to be coated with rubber? I have been told it can be done.’

  ‘The schnörkels on our newest boats are encased in rubber. They are metal of course. I doubt if it is possible to coat wooden cases.’

  ‘But metal ones? If the wooden cases were to be placed in metal boxes and then coated with rubber?’

  ‘Overdone. If the seals on the metal boxes are good enough then you probably wouldn’t need the rubber. With tests and trials you – ’

  ‘There is no time for tests and trials.’

  ‘So is this your real job? Is this what you are here for, to arrange to ship these? Also to kidnap the Reichsmarschall? Is this why you keep looking over your shoulder.’

  ‘The transport of these items is administered by those with no knowledge of warfare. Officially I am here to advise them on security and protection. In practice, security is the work of the infantry and I leave it to them. All I have to do is to ensure that the temporary shelters provided for Göring’s treasures are always adequate.’

  ‘Temporary shelters?’

  ‘You have seen the condition of our railways. It can take days to reach the south. My job is to ensure that when our journey is interrupted, for example by bombing, the cargo we are carrying remains unharmed.’

  ‘You impress me. I didn’t realise you had such expertise. The enemy now has a bomb that goes right through our U-boat pens. Maybe you should have designed them.’

  ‘Ah, this is more of your humour? No, I do not have such expertise. So far I have merely identified places of shelter along road routes such as tunnels and mines. In practice my research is pointl
ess because we shall be transporting everything by rail. When we require shelter all we need is a railway tunnel. I happen to know the location of all the rail tunnels between Berlin and Berchtesgaden. Luckily for me, so do the train drivers.’

  ‘So you don’t have any expertise. How do you get away with it? Haven’t they checked up on you?’

  ‘They have. And everything has been found to be in order.’

  ‘Everything falsified.’

  ‘My childhood, my schooling, my upbringing. These things are not false.’

  ‘But everything else? Your rank?’

  Theo’s eyes fix on the uniform, on the pips on Walter’s epaulettes. Walter shrugs.

  ‘My rank is unimportant.’

  ‘But is it the right uniform?’

  ‘People believe what they see.’

  ‘Good god, Walter! Who are you really?’

  ‘That is the one thing I am not prepared to tell you.’

  Walter wanders around the bunker reading labels and counting boxes. Theo stands near the door and mulls over this new knowledge, wondering how he can use it to his advantage.

  ‘What’s to stop me going to the Reichsmarschall and telling him what you’ve told me?’

  Instead of the reaction he expects, Walter continues his task.

  ‘So what have I told you, exactly?’ he says, stooping and repositioning several small crates. ‘You are so naïve. Do you think you are favoured in some way? You have seen the man’s toy trains and you were impressed, that is the end of it. The Reichsmarschall is capricious, he surrounds himself with admirers. Take care, my friend, I am trusted. I have worked here for several months and what I have done has been faultless. When I asked permission to bring an aide here to help me with my work my request was granted without question. I was not even asked who that person would be.’

  ‘I wasn’t serious. I merely wondered if you had considered all the risks.’

  ‘If you went to the Reichsmarschall with such ridiculous stories then at best you would leave here in a box.’ He kicks one of the crates. ‘But not as a work of art.’