‘Why should I be carrying a weapon, Herr Rittner?’
‘There is no reason. But you understand that you will be searched very thoroughly when you arrive at Rastenburg.’
Ugh, Anna thought, remembering Belinda. ‘I understand.’
They reached the plane, where a mechanic waited beside a short flight of steps up to the door; the two pilots were apparently already on the flight deck. The mechanic assisted her up the steps and showed her to her seat, himself fastening the belt round her waist. Then he pulled up the steps and closed the door. ‘Shall I take your bags, Fräulein?’
‘You may have the valise,’ Anna said. ‘But I will keep this one. May I ask how long is the flight?’
‘Approximately three hours.’
‘Three hours?’
‘It is a long way. You have flown before?’
‘No.’
‘Ah. There is nothing to be afraid of. It is a clear night with only scattered cloud.’ He seated himself behind her.
‘Should I not have a parachute?’ Anna asked.
‘We are not going into combat,’ he pointed out.
Anna settled herself, and the engines were started. A moment later they were hurtling down the runway and lifting into the night sky. Her stomach rose rapidly into her chest and then slowly went down again. She was on her way to the Führer.
As the mechanic had promised, the flight was monotonously uneventful apart from the odd bump. Anna found herself nodding off, until the plane suddenly started to descend. She saw a row of lights beneath them marking the runway, and realized that she was going to be landing in a clearing in the middle of a large forest. The airstrip was well protected by watchtowers, although there didn’t seem a great deal of room. But a few moments later they were down, and the door was being pushed back. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ the mechanic asked.
He obviously had no idea who she was, personally, but she had deduced from the matter-of-fact manner in which he had both greeted her and treated the whole flight not only that he had made this journey often but that more often than not he had had a female passenger. ‘It was not bad at all,’ she agreed, and clambered out, her skirt blowing in the chill breeze. Below her there waited several men, and one of these took her valise. She remained in charge of the shoulder bag, as she was hurried to a waiting car. No one said anything, and a few minutes later she was bouncing along a somewhat uneven roadway through the trees, seated next to an officer who had also not said a word. So she decided not to speak either; she was clearly expected.
The drive took about fifteen minutes, then a fence loomed out of the darkness. A gate was opened for them, and a little further on there was another checkpoint. A further short drive and she saw a group of buildings. These were entirely blacked out, but when the car stopped before the largest of them, outside which there were two armed sentries stamping their feet in the snow, a door was opened for her and she was ushered into a glowing cavern of light, and of warmth as well.
There were about a dozen people, men and women, all in uniform, gazing at her. Behind them were various doors to obvious offices. ‘Through there, Countess,’ invited the officer who had accompanied her in the car. Anna went through the doorway indicated into an antechamber containing a desk, a long table against the wall and several chairs. The officer followed her and placed her valise on the desk. ‘Please wait,’ he said, and left, closing the door behind him.
Anna supposed she was being overlooked all the time, so merely strolled around the room, feeling the heat slowly getting through her clothes and into her body. Then the door opened again, and a man in a white coat, another man wearing civilian clothes, and a woman in secretarial uniform entered. ‘I am Morell,’ the first man announced.
Anna inclined her head; she had deduced that he had to be Hitler’s personal doctor, regarded by most of the Party as a dangerous quack but apparently considered indispensable by Hitler himself.
‘And these are Hermann, the Führer’s valet, and Frau Engert, the Führer’s chief secretary.’
Anna had met Frau Engert before, once, when she had attended the Chancellor’s office in Berlin, in 1941. She had rather liked her, then. She was not so sure, now. But she wanted to be friendly. ‘I suppose you have forgotten me, Frau Engert,’ she suggested.
‘You are not an easy woman to forget, Countess. Shall I help you with your clothes?’
Anna glanced at the valet, but he obviously had no intention of leaving, was opening her valise. She sighed, took off her shoulder bag and laid it on the desk, then took off her gloves and hat, followed by her sable. Frau Engert stroked the fur as she laid it across a chair, and then carefully folded Anna’s dress across the back of the chair. Anna waited, and the secretary said, ‘Everything, please, Countess.’
Anna handed her her camiknickers, stepped out of her shoes, and sat down to roll down her stockings.
‘What’s this?’ Morell asked. He was holding the bottle of peroxide.
Anna took a deep breath, but that could have been because he was looking at her and she was naked. ‘It is peroxide, Herr Doktor.’
Morell looked at her pubes. ‘Are you saying that you are not a natural?’
‘I am a natural,’ Anna said, ‘but I have been finding grey streaks in my hair, and I do not like this.’
Morell looked at Engert, who nodded. ‘I am afraid that is a concomitant of the life the Countess has been forced to live.’
‘I am told that you are only twenty-three, Countess.’
‘I’m afraid that is true, Herr Doktor.’
‘Then I am sorry for you. And why is it bound to your lipstick?’
‘They rattle so,’ she explained.
To her great relief he replaced them without unscrewing the bottle, but then picked up her real lipstick. ‘Two lipsticks?’
‘I like to vary the shades.’
He made no comment, replaced the tube and closed the bag. But her ordeal was only just beginning. ‘Will you lie on the table, please – on your face.’ He pulled on a pair of thin rubber gloves.
Anna climbed on to the table and lay on her stomach, her chin resting on her hands. Frau Engert stood by her head. ‘Just relax, Countess,’ she recommended. ‘It will not be so bad.’
Anna felt her buttocks being pulled apart, but at least he seemed to have coated the gloves in some kind of lubricating jelly. ‘Does he suppose I carry a gun up there?’ she asked.
‘This is as much a medical examination as a body search,’ Engert explained. ‘There can be no risk of any sexually transmittable disease being given to the Führer.’
‘How insulting can you get?’ Anna remarked, and received a smart slap.
‘Roll over,’ Morell commanded.
Anna obeyed, and saw with relief that he was donning a fresh pair of gloves.
This examination took longer, probably, she reckoned, because he found it more interesting. ‘You have been married, Countess,’ he remarked.
‘That is correct, Herr Doktor,’ Anna agreed, keeping her breathing under control.
‘How many children did you have?’
‘I have no children.’
‘You mean you are sterile.’
‘I mean that I have always taken precautions not to become pregnant.’
‘Ah, the post-coital douche, no doubt. It is not infallible. And since the dissolution of your marriage . . . When was this?’
‘I do not know the exact date. The divorce was heard in England, in my absence. But it was about three years ago.’
‘How many lovers have you had since?’
‘I will have to think . . .’ At least he had taken his fingers away and was stripping off these gloves as well. Clive, Massenbach, Chalyapov, Joe Andrews, Steinberg, Essermann, Laurent . . . and, of course, Heydrich and Goebbels. ‘Nine.’
‘In three years? You are wanton.’
‘It goes with my job, Herr Doktor. I have also been raped.’
He snorted, and touched the blue mark on her right r
ib cage. ‘And this?’
‘A bullet wound, Herr Doktor. Being shot also goes with the job.’
‘And you are fully recovered?’
‘It was four years ago.’ As he was no longer touching her, she sat up. ‘May I get dressed now?’
‘You may put on a nightdress. Frau Engert.’
Engert waited until Anna had dropped the nightdress over her head. Then she said, ‘Through here, Countess.’
Anna was aware of more anxiety than she had yet felt throughout the whole traumatic evening, as she followed Engert through another doorway into a somewhat Spartan bedroom, presently unoccupied. Hermann brought in her two bags and placed them on the table, then left. ‘Have you eaten?’ Engert asked.
‘Not since lunch.’
‘You must be starving. I will have something sent in to you. I’m afraid it will not be very good: Frau Exner has been dismissed. You have met Frau Exner?’
‘I’m afraid I have not had that privilege.’
‘Ah. She was the Führer’s favourite chef. Such a nice young woman. But then Herr Bormann discovered that she had a Jewish grandmother. You have met Herr Bormann?’
‘That is another privilege I have not yet enjoyed.’
Frau Engert glanced at the closed door. ‘It is not necessarily a privilege. Just remember that he has the Führer’s complete confidence.’
‘So what happened to Frau Exner, after she fell out with Herr Bormann? Was she sent to a concentration camp?’
‘Oh, no. The Führer does not condemn those he regards as his friends.’
That was reassuring.
‘She and her entire family were pensioned off,’ Frau Engert said, ‘and made honorary Aryans. Not that that will interest you, as you are so clearly an Aryan. Now, you realize that we do not serve meat here. Or wine.’
‘Oh.’ Anna had been thinking in terms of a steak and a bottle of burgundy. ‘Of course. Ah . . .?’
‘I cannot say when the Führer will attend you. He invariably works most of the night. He may come in about dawn.’
‘May?’
Engert shrugged. ‘It depends on what reports are received over the next few hours. If there is a crisis, he may work longer than usual.’
‘What happens if he does not come at all?’
‘Why, Countess, in that case you wait until he does come. Good night.’
Shit, Anna thought. She had given Birgit no instructions for dealing with a second day’s absence. On the other hand, even if Himmler insisted on being told the truth, there was nothing he could do: she had been summoned by his master. But she could not resist a last riposte. ‘You mean I am allowed to sleep?’
Engert had gone to the door. She looked over her shoulder. ‘Of course, Countess. The only thing you are not permitted to do is leave this room.’
‘I cannot go the night without using a bathroom.’
Engert pointed at an inner door. ‘The bathroom is through there. You should clean your teeth as well, before retiring. The Führer values cleanliness above all other virtues.’
And yet continues to employ people like Morell, Anna thought. And Bormann.
‘I will wish you success,’ Engert said, and closed the door behind herself.
There was nothing to do but wait. Certainly Anna could not afford to anticipate. Her supper was served by Hermann and she ate without enthusiasm: it was an unsalted and virtually tasteless plate of vegetables. She cleaned her teeth, made sure she was sweet-smelling all over, debated taking off her nightdress but decided to leave that until his arrival, got into bed and was asleep in minutes – to awake with a start as the door opened.
Hitler stood above the bed, looking down at her. He was almost exactly as she remembered him from their last meeting: the dark hair brushed so that a lock drooped over his eye, the little moustache, the oddly placid features which she knew could become distorted with passion, the black trousers and brown jacket, with the single decoration of the Iron Cross First Class – honestly and gallantly won, as she knew, as a despatch rider in the Great War. Of his health problems there was no immediate sign, save for the lack of colour in his cheeks. She sat up. ‘My Führer! I am sorry I was asleep.’
‘Why should you be sorry, Anna? What did Queen Isabella of Spain say were the four finest sights in the world?’
Anna got her brain into gear. ‘A soldier in the field; a priest at the altar; a beautiful woman in bed; a thief on the gibbet.’
‘There! You are a treasure. I should have sent for you long ago. But there have been so many things that needed doing – armies moved from here to there, incompetent generals to be replaced . . . Have you slept with Goebbels?’
Anna remembered from their previous meetings his disconcerting habit of suddenly interjecting a question into the conversation.
‘There is no need to be embarrassed,’ Hitler said. ‘The good Doctor has slept with just about every worthwhile woman in Germany. Besides, he told me about it. Was he as good as he thinks he is?’
‘He is very large,’ Anna conceded, cautiously.
‘And that is important to you.’ He turned away and began to undress.
‘The size of a man is immaterial, my Führer. It is what he does with what he has, before, during and after, that is important.’
He turned back to face her, naked. ‘And if he cannot do . . . anything he might wish to?’
He was certainly somewhat small and not revealing any great enthusiasm. Anna swung her legs out of bed, got up, and took off her nightdress. ‘There can still be pleasure in it.’ She made to take him in her arms, and he held her away. ‘My Führer?’ She was genuinely alarmed.
‘I wish to look at you.’ And now at last there was a twitch. ‘So much beauty. So much perfection.’ He touched her, lightly, his forefinger circling her left nipple before sliding on to her stomach. ‘You make me think of Eurynome.’
‘Sir?’
‘You have not heard of Eurynome? There, you see: you are not infallible. Eurynome was the Pelasgian goddess of Creation. She emerged from Chaos, naked, long-limbed, long-haired and utterly beautiful, and danced her way across the Heavens. But her passage through space and time created the North Wind, Boreas, who took the form of a gigantic serpent, Iphion, who – I quote the myth – became lustful for the beautiful goddess, and wrapped himself around her thighs. From their union there came earth and water, and all living things. You’ll note the resemblance to Adam and Eve, and their serpent, although I must confess I find the Pelasgian myth slightly more stimulating.’
And I must blow this man to pieces, she thought, who is a monster however pitiable. But not for a few hours yet. ‘I am here to please you, my Führer. You have but to say what you wish.’
‘What I wish,’ he muttered, and sat on the bed. He did not appear to have noticed the wound. Or perhaps he had read her file.
But the problem remained. She sat beside him. ‘When one is exhausted, it can take time.’ She took him in her arms, and he turned to her. They fell across the bed together. But half an hour later nothing had been accomplished, although they were both dripping sweat. Then he pushed her away. ‘Do you know the real reason I have not sent for you before now? It is because I feared that not even you would succeed. And I knew that the man who could not make it with you naked in his arms has no right to call himself a man.’
‘Oh, my Führer,’ she protested. ‘Of course that isn’t so.’ But he was definitely agitated. ‘Will you settle for half a cake?’
‘What do you mean?’
She slipped off the bed and knelt between his legs.
‘How can you hope to make me ejaculate if I cannot erect?’ he asked.
‘Erection is not a necessity,’ she assured him, and only a few moments later proved her point.
Hitler lay back across the bed, panting. ‘You are a treasure,’ he said again, ‘an absolute treasure. Now tell me, how much do you know about these conspiracies?’
‘Sir?’ She was taken completely by surprise, by the question
itself, and at such a time as she had supposed him exhausted.
‘You’re not going to tell me you don’t know what is going on? You work for the SD.’
Think, God damn it. Did it matter what she told him, if within a few hours he was going to be dead? But what he might do in those few hours . . . ‘Yes, sir. I know there is something going on. Herr Himmler is investigating it. In fact, he has given me some names to work on myself, when I get back to Berlin.’
‘He knows you are here?’
‘No, sir. It is just that the job was given me. For tomorrow.’
‘Is General Oster on your list?’
‘General Oster, sir? I understand he has been retired.’
‘He was sacked by Admiral Canaris, from the Abwehr. Officially for incompetence. But my private information suggests otherwise. I wouldn’t be surprised if Canaris was involved as well. In fact . . . I am going to disband the entire Abwehr. They have proved utterly useless. I am going to merge them with the SD. Does this please you?’
‘Well, sir . . .’ Anna had no love for the Abwehr, who, unaware that she was SD, had once arrested her. ‘If you think it is best.’
‘Yes. It will be best. But I would prefer it if you did not confide that to Himmler for the time being. And I would like you to keep me informed of the progress of your investigation, Anna. I want names. I will send for you again soon, and you will bring me a list. Now leave me. I need to sleep.’
‘You would not like me to be here when you wake up?’ Anna was not entirely sure what she wanted the answer to be.
‘If you were here, I would attend to no more business, and we could well lose the war. A car will take you to the airstrip, and the plane is waiting for you.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You have made me very happy.’
Anna kissed him, dressed herself, and went into the bathroom. Now she had to be her ice-cold working self, and give not a thought to the unhappy man lying on the bed. At least she had made him happy, however temporarily. She renewed her make-up and brushed her hair, then made sure that the false lipstick was still securely fastened to the peroxide, and carefully punctured the top. Instantly liquid oozed out and on to the glass. She fastened the bag, and returned with it to the bedroom. Hitler was already asleep, snoring faintly. Anna stood by the bed for a moment, looking down at him. But now her emotions were entirely under control.
Angel in Jeopardy_The thrilling sequel to Angel of Vengeance Page 19
