Meanwhile, as in Lucerne, she was stuck, as she dared not risk being out when her contact arrived. Not that she had any great desire to go out. She had read that Stockholm, known as the Venice of the North, was one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, and her brief glimpses of the architecture seemed to support that claim, but that afternoon it began to snow quite heavily, and by the time she went down to dinner it was blowing a blizzard. She had no idea how her contact was going to reach her – although if it was to be Johannsson he would surely already be here – but if he, or she, was flying, there might be a problem.
There was an all-male dinner party going on, with a great deal of loud toasting. They were all naturally interested in the glamorous young woman dining alone, but she only glanced at them, and after the meal went straight to bed, where, having the mental control to empty her mind of all stressful thoughts, she was asleep in seconds – to awake to a winter wonderland, with the ploughs moving slowly along the streets to clear paths through the waist-high snow.
She got dressed, had breakfast, and settled down to wait. There was no point in putting off the maid, and as the girl obviously did not speak German, she merely gestured towards the bed and nodded. By the time she went down to lunch she was beginning to feel agitated. In another twenty-four hours she would be seeing Bernadotte again, and after that there would be no excuse for remaining in Stockholm a moment longer. ‘I am expecting a caller, perhaps this afternoon,’ she told Reception when she left the dining room. ‘I shall be in my room.’
‘Of course, Countess. The name of the . . . ah . . .?’
‘The caller will give my name,’ Anna said, and went upstairs.
She settled down with a pack of cards and was playing her fourth game of solitaire when her phone rang.
‘Countess? There is a gentleman here to see you. I’m afraid he refuses to give me his name, but he says you are expecting him.’
‘Yes, I am, as I told you. Please ask him to come up.’
She put away the cards, took her Luger from her shoulder bag, unlocked her door, and waited. A few minutes later there came a tap. Anna stood against the wall beside the door. ‘It’s open.’
A brief hesitation, and the door swung in. ‘Why, Mr Baxter,’ Anna said. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’
Slowly Billy turned towards her, then looked at the pistol. ‘Do you always answer the door like that?’
‘I’m alive,’ Anna pointed out, and stepped behind him to close and lock the door.
He advanced into the room. ‘What on earth made you choose to rendezvous in a climate like this? We may as well be at the North Pole.’
‘I’m told it is very beautiful in the summer,’ Anna said. ‘Actually, it is very beautiful now, if you can overlook the temperature. And I am sure you know, Mr Baxter, that I do not choose places for a rendezvous. I am sent to places, and I try to arrange the rendezvous around that fact. Do sit down.’
Baxter sat in the one armchair. ‘Would you mind putting away that thing.’
Anna laid the gun on the table, sat in the chair beside it. Baxter felt in his pocket and produced his pipe. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Anna said.
He hesitated, then put the pipe away again.
‘But I can offer you a drink.’
He looked at his watch.
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘It is not the correct hour. I know! A cup of tea. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Thank you.’ He remained watching her as she picked up the phone and dialled room service. ‘Is this merely a rendezvous, or are you carrying out a mission for your employers?’
‘Both.’
‘And perhaps you can offer an explanation for the failure of the mission you were supposed to be carrying out for us? It was to be completed by the end of the year. That was a week ago.’
‘I did complete my mission,’ Anna said.
‘There has been no report of it?’
‘That is because the bomb failed to go off.’
‘Oh, shit!’
Anna raised her eyebrows. ‘You don’t sound very surprised.’
He grimaced. ‘There have been some failures.’
Anna pocketed the pistol, answered the knock on the door, waited while the waiter placed the tray on the table, and locked the door again. ‘So you sent me on what was virtually a suicide mission with duff equipment,’ she remarked, pouring. ‘Not for the first time. Shall I put the arsenic in now, or would you like some sugar?’
‘Two lumps. I am most terribly sorry.’
Anna handed him his tea and sat down. ‘Words I shall remember when they put the rope around my neck.’
‘We actually thought you had been caught and executed.’
‘Clive thought that?’
‘He refused to accept it. Neither would that fellow Andrews. They were both very upset. ‘
‘Even while refusing to accept that I might be dead. Well, you must give them my love and the bad news that I am still around. No thanks to them.’
‘Look, you have every right to be upset. But you’re here, aren’t you? Looking, if I may so, more beautiful than ever.’
‘You say the sweetest things.’
He flushed. ‘And the bomb has been remade. It now includes a wire connection, between the acid and the explosive. The acid eats into the wire, and is conducted to the explosive. The new version has been tested several times and has never failed to work. So—’
‘Count me out.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know how much you understand about the situation, Mr Baxter, but let me put you in the picture. In order to gain access to Hitler, he has to want to receive you. Now, he does receive, fairly regularly, staff officers and the like with important information. But I am not a staff officer. I have nothing to tell the Führer that he does not already know. Therefore there is only one reason for him to wish to receive me in his private quarters. Comprende?’
Baxter slowly put down his tea cup. ‘You mean you . . . my God! You actually . . .’
‘Carried out my orders to get close enough to him to place the bomb. That meant I had to be close enough for him to do whatever he wished to do to me. Are you all right?’
He had gone very red in the face.
‘I think you should loosen your tie,’ Anna suggested. ‘In fact, take off your coat and jacket. I really do not wish you to have a heart attack. I have so much trouble explaining dead bodies in my room to the authorities, especially outside Germany.’
‘It is quite warm in here.’ Baxter got up and removed his coat and jacket, then loosened his tie.
‘I am sure you can appreciate that it is not an experience I wish to repeat. However, we are not quite bereft.’ She outlined the progress of the conspiracy, omitting certain details, such as Stauffenberg’s disabilities and the fact that both Hitler and Himmler were obviously aware that there was some kind of plot going on but had so far decided not to do anything about it. That was something she wanted to probe for herself.
‘Hm,’ Billy commented. ‘You say that your friends already have a bomb. Given them by Johannsson?’
‘Associates, Mr Baxter. Associates. Didn’t you authorize Johannsson to give them a bomb?’
‘No, I did not. Those damned Yanks are acting on their own. Not for the first time. What exactly is your role in this?’
‘I do not have a role.’
His eyebrows went up.
‘I cannot be involved with the conspiracy as such. As far as anyone in Germany is aware, I am a faithful servant of Herr Himmler, and I must remain so, or my position would become untenable.’
‘But you’re dealing with these people.’
‘I am dealing with one of them, who only knows me as Himmler’s PA. He believes that I can persuade Himmler to take over the government should Hitler be removed.’
‘Hm. I’m not sure that we would wish that.’
‘I’m not sure that he could be persuaded. He has his own agenda.’
> ‘Which you possess?’
‘Not entirely. As far as I can work it out, he is preparing to do a bunk if the going gets too rough. I reported this to Clive back in August.’
Baxter nodded. ‘I remember. He is salting money away in Switzerland . . . and here in Sweden?’
‘I don’t think so. He believes his money is safest in Switzerland, but I think his idea is to seek political asylum in Sweden.’
‘And you are prepared to help him do this.’
‘I am prepared to carry out his orders, Mr Baxter. Because I have no choice if I, and my family, are going to survive.’
‘Message understood. Have you anything else for me?’
‘Yes. Everyone expects the Allies to invade this summer. Is that correct?’
‘Now, you know I can’t tell you that, Anna.’
‘You just have,’ she pointed out.
‘You are too quick for your own good. I asked if you had any information for me.’
‘Only that you do need to invade, as rapidly as possible. Do you know anything about the secret weapons Germany is developing?’
‘We hear rumours.’
‘They happen to be fact. The Luftwaffe has developed a huge rocket, an unmanned flying bomb, if you like, which will fly at over four hundred miles an hour and deliver a payload of a thousand pounds on any designated target at a range of several hundred miles. It is in its final stage of preparation now, and will be operational, probably by June. The objective is to deliver heavier attacks on your cities than you did on Hamburg or are currently doing on Berlin.’
‘Hm. Just let me write those figures down.’ He took a notebook from his pocket. ‘Frankly, I think this is pie in the sky.’
‘They do have them,’ Anna insisted.
‘I’m sure they do. And your information will be invaluable to the RAF. But I would say that we have the planes to cope with them. Well, this has been a most informative meeting and, as usual, a very valuable one.’ He stood up, put on his jacket.
Anna looked at her watch. ‘It is five o’clock. Won’t you stay and have a drink with me? It is very close to drinking time even by English reckoning.’
‘I can think of nothing I would like more, Anna. But my plane is waiting to take me straight back.’
‘You mean you’re not staying even for one night?’
‘I’m afraid not. Anyway, I don’t think you would find my company as congenial as Clive’s.’
‘Don’t you think I might regard that as a challenge.’ She smiled at him. ‘Just joking. But I would like to think we are now friends.’
‘We have always been friends, Anna, even if I have from time to time found your methods – well, a little hair-raising. Do you expect to survive this war?’
‘I’m working on it.’
‘Well, then, I sincerely hope to see you when that day arrives.’
‘Oh, I am counting on that. Until then . . .’ She took him in her arms and kissed him on the mouth.
He responded, but then moved away. ‘Shall I give Clive your love?’
‘I asked you to, didn’t I?’ She opened the door for him, then closed and locked it. She wondered if, like Himmler, he was afraid of her?
*
‘My reply.’ Count Bernadotte slid the envelope across the table.
Anna looked at it. ‘The envelope is not sealed.’
‘It is sealed, Countess. But not with a seal. Will you open it?’
‘It is not my business to do so.’ Anna opened her shoulder bag and placed the envelope next to the Luger that lay in the bottom.
‘You conceive of your business as the requirement to serve Herr Himmler, and therefore the Reich, faithfully and to the best of your ability.’
They had had a long, slow, enjoyable lunch, and he had waited until they were drinking their coffee before producing the envelope. Anna had not pressed him. She had enjoyed the ambience, as she was enjoying the ambience of all Stockholm, the tranquillity in such total contrast to the freneticism of Berlin. But now a certain tension had crept into the conversation. ‘Do you criticize me for that, Count?’
‘On the contrary. I consider loyalty to one’s position and one’s superiors to be the greatest of virtues. But it is, of course, possible for loyalty to be misplaced.’
‘I do not understand what you are saying,’ Anna lied.
‘I was wondering if you are aware that Germany cannot win this war – in fact, that she is almost certain to lose it.’
‘Would such an awareness justify disloyalty?’
‘Is not the greatest of all loyalties to oneself? – to one’s ideals, to one’s family, to one’s personal sense of honour, certainly. But eventually it must come down to one’s desire to survive.’
How wonderful it would be if she could bare her soul to this kind, gentle and honourable man. But as that was not possible . . . ‘No, sir. One’s desire to survive must be subordinate to one’s sense of personal honour, which is involved with one’s awareness of duty. Whether one rates one’s principal duty to lie in serving one’s employers, or one’s country, or’ – she drew a long breath – ‘one’s family, has got to be a personal decision. But once made, it cannot be altered.’ She dared go no further than that.
He studied her for several seconds. Then he said, ‘I am glad you hold that point of view, Anna von Widerstand. But it distresses me to consider that when the edifice of Nazidom comes tumbling down, as it must do, you may be buried in the rubble. You are too . . .’ He reflected for a moment, choosing his words. ‘. . . unique a personality to be lost to the world, at least for a long time.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘There are quite a few people who would disagree with you.’ Twenty-five at the last count, she thought.
‘Should that time come, it may be that only my opinion will matter.’
They gazed at each other for several seconds. ‘I shall remember that, Herr Count. And now . . .’ She looked at her watch.
‘Of course. My car will take you back to your hotel.’
‘I would prefer to walk, if you do not mind.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘It is virtually dark outside, and below freezing.’
‘I have my coat. As this is my last afternoon in Stockholm, I would like to feel the place.’ She smiled. ‘It is so very different from Berlin. Can you understand that?’
‘Yes. You say this is your last afternoon here? You’re leaving tomorrow?’
‘On the early train. Herr Himmler will be waiting for your letter.’
‘I imagine he will.’ He stood up, bent over her hand. ‘These two meetings have been a very great pleasure. Remember our conversation.’
Anna went to the lobby, put on her sable, tucked her hair out of sight beneath her fur hat, watched with interest by the doorman, and pulled on her gloves. It was indeed dark outside, and her breath misted in front of her nostrils. But it was so deliciously clean.
The streets were all but deserted; judging from the glow of lights in the buildings around her it was obviously still office hours, and would be for another hour. She turned towards the lake side, walked about fifty yards, and a man appeared beside her; he must have been following her for some time, his footfalls deadened by the snow.
‘Will you come with me, please, Countess?’ he asked, in German.
Anna looked at him, but in the gloom it was difficult to identify any prominent features in his face; on the other hand, he wore a slouch hat, which was suggestive. ‘I might, if you will tell me why I should?’
‘We need to ask you some questions.’
‘Are you a policeman?’
‘I am Gestapo, Countess.’
‘Ah.’ Now here is a conundrum, she thought. How did he know who she was, and if he did know who she was, how did he know she was in Stockholm? ‘Have you authority here?’
‘We have authority over every German citizen anywhere in the world, Countess.’
But it did not appear as if he knew who she actually was, or, certainly, that
she was SD. The situation was worth investigating. And at that moment a car arrived beside them. ‘If you would be so kind, Countess. It is far too cold to walk.’
The door was opened, and Anna got in and sank on to the cushions. The man got in beside her; the only other occupant was the driver. ‘I did not know the Gestapo had offices in foreign capitals,’ she remarked, conversationally, although of course she did; Feutlanger had contacted the Geneva office to have her tailed from the railway station.
‘We have offices everywhere,’ he said proudly.
‘And the Swedish government permits this?’
‘Not officially. They know we are here, of course. But we represent ourselves as an import-and-export firm, and as long as we keep a low profile they do not trouble us.’
‘That is very interesting,’ Anna said. ‘How many people man this import-and-export office?’
‘There are three agents and a secretary.’
‘Fascinating,’ Anna said. ‘And what exactly do you wish to speak to me about?’
‘Herr Bochner will explain.’
‘Herr Bochner being the boss man. Yes. Tell me, Herr . . . ah . . .?’
‘Tobler.’
‘Herr Tobler, what would you have done if I had simply refused to accompany you?’
‘I am afraid I would have had to use force, Countess.’
‘Do you regard that as keeping a low profile?’
‘Well, no one would have known. The street was dark, and deserted, and it would have been very quick. I am an expert,’ he added, more proudly yet.
‘I am sure you are. Thank you for being so frank.’
‘Well, you are not likely to be repeating anything I have said to anyone else, are you?’
‘I would say that is unlikely,’ Anna agreed.
‘There, you see. We do endeavour to keep things civilized. We have arrived.’
The car had entered a small courtyard, surrounded by buildings, in which almost every window was illuminated. But this made the courtyard totally dark. The doors were opened, and Anna was ushered into a small hallway and up a staircase, the two men immediately behind her. Then she went along a narrow corridor, to arrive at a doorway. ‘It is unlocked,’ Tobler said.
Angel in Jeopardy: The thrilling sequel to Angel of Vengeance (Anna Fehrbach Book 4) Page 23
