"For God's sake, Lieven, don't keep chattering away like that about food or you'll drive me crazy," shouted Werthe-"What on earth can we still do?"
"The Security Service wants to put me on the spot. Very well then, we'll put Herr Redecker on the spot too. What's today, Tuesday? Right. Then I'll call on Sturmbannfuhrer Eicher tomorrow afternoon and put an end once for all to the trouble over that forged pass."
4< What? YouTI actually go to Eicher?"
"Yes, of course. I'm really most awfully sorry to have caused Admiral Canaris such inconvenience."
"But why—why should you go to Eicher now of all people?"
"Because tomorrow is Wednesday, gentlemen," said Thomas amiably. "And according to my little black book Wednesday is the day in every week on which German Treasury bills are flown from Bucharest to Berlin. All we have to do now, after lunch, is to draw up an exact time schedule. But really nothing whatever can go wrong now..."
[9]
With the tenderest of smiles the extremely pretty black-haired maid, Nanette, helped her beloved master into his camel-hair overcoat. Thomas glanced at his repeater. It was half-past four on September 29, 1943.
Thomas looked out of the window. "Do you think therell be any fog later on today, my dear?"
"No, monsieur. I don't think so ..."
"Well, let's hope it keeps fine," said Thomas. 'Tor in that case quite a few gentlemen will find themselves in the soup this evening."
"Pardon, monsieur?"
"Never mind, Nanette. Fve fixed up a little race for this afternoon. And I should certainly like to win it."
Thomas Lieven had really arranged for a race and now he was going to take part in it. He'd set an avalanche in motion and he'd have to be damned careful that it didn't overwhelm him. He was just off, in fact, to Paris Security Service headquarters in the Avenue Foch, to visit Sturmbannfuhrer Eicher.
The operation which Thomas was now hoping to bring to a victorious end in person had begun twenty-four hours previously. In the praiseworthy effort to save his crazy Sonderfuhrer's life, Colonel Werthe had sent a long report by teleprinter to A.dmiral Canaris. An hour later the white-haired head of German Military Intelligence had begun an hour's in-
terview with Heinrich Himmler. The admiral brought bad news to the Reichsfuhrer SS and Chief of the German Police.
"I shall take the most ruthless measures," Heinrich Himmler declared wrathfully.
At 6:30 p.m. on September 28, a special committee of high-ranking SS officers set to work. Three of its members flew that night, via Vienna, to Bucharest.
On September 29 at a quarter-past seven in the morning these three SS officers arrested Unterscharfuhrer Anton Lin-ser, a Security Service courier, on the airfield at Bucharest, as he was about to take off for Berlin. His extensive luggage contained several parcels of "Secret Headquarters Material," which were opened. German Treasury bills earmarked for Rumania were found, to the value of two and a half million marks.
At 8:30 a.m. the three SS officers called at the offices of the Bucharest Security Service, situated in an unobtrusive wing of the German Embassy in the main street of the city, the Calea Victorei. Here great quantities of louis d'or gold coins and enormous piles of German Treasury bills could be safely hidden. Two persons were arrested.
At ten minutes to two on September 29, 1943, the courier aircraft from Bucharest arrived at the Staaken airfield in Berlin. Members of the special committee arrested an Unter-sturmfuhrer named Walter Hansmann, who had been asking the crew, with every sign of the utmost anxiety, for news of the Bucharest courier, Linser. After a brief interrogation Hansmann broke down and confessed that he was involved in the German Treasury bills affair. He gave the names of four high-ranking members of the Security Service who were in on the racket in Berlin. By two o'clock these four men were already under lock and key.
"Well, now we can go and have lunch in peace," said Thomas Lieven, in Paris, to Colonel Werthe. They were standing over a teleprinter through which the admiral kept his colonel hourly informed of the situation.
"It seems you're in luck, you damned rascal," said Werthe with a grin.
'Touch wood," Thomas remarked, touching it. "When did the avenging angels take off who are to pass sentence in this affair?"
"Half an hour ago. There's an SS judge and two courts-martial counsel. They ought to touch down between half-past four and five this afternoon."
At half-past four Thomas was being helped into his camel-hair overcoat by the extremely pretty Nanette. As he emerged into the street he said to himself: Now let's just hope that there really isn't going to be any fog. For if there is my three angels won't be able to land. And then good-bye to the vengeance of my own that I've been hoping for on those bloodhounds in the Avenue Foch, who once nearly beat me to death.
The Security Service chiefs in the Avenue Foch received Thomas with solemn and severe expressions. He realized at once that they had no idea what was in store for them. "Reichsheini" hadn't warned them.
The red-faced Sturmbannfuhrer Eicher and his pallid adjutant, Fritz Winter, addressed Thomas in calm and emphatic tones. They behaved like many generals, courts-martial counsel and officers who sentenced German soldiers to death, often i on the most trifling grounds, during the last years of the war. j They used to make an appearance, before the execution of i their victims, in order to explain to the guilty parties, with ' stern solemnity, why it was so absolutely necessary for them to be shot.
Such was the fashion in which Messrs. Eicher and Winter harangued Thomas Lieven, who sat in front of them wearing a gray tweed suit, with a white shirt, a black tie, black socks and shoes, and crossed legs.
Said Eicher: "You know, Lieven, we have nothing against ; you personally. On the contrary! I admire your courage in having come here. But the welfare of the nation and the community is here at stake ..."
Winter added: "Grin away, Lieven. You won't be grinning| when you face the court-martial."
Eicher continued: "It is right to do what is of advantage to; the German people, wrong to do what injures them. You have? injured your country. I want to make you realize that..."
"May I put a question?" asked Thomas with a courteous inclination of the head. "Is it really just ten minutes past five ort is my watch slow?"
The look which Eicher shot at him contained both hate and admiration. "Why couldn't you remain a decent human being? and join us? You might have been a Sturmbannfuhrer today. Your watch is right."
Thomas rose and lounged over to the window. He gazed down into the autumnal garden and up into an autumnal sky. Not a sign of fog.
"I should be interested to hear how you tracked me down, gentlemen," said Thomas Lieven.
Sturmbannfiihrer Eicher and his adjutant complacently related how they had discovered that Thomas Lieven had taken a dangerous female member of the French resistance named Yvonne Dechamps to Lisbon in the guise of a German secret agent with a Paris Intelligence pass.
Lieven listened to them politely. Then he again glanced at his watch.
Eicher grunted: "Self-control to the last, eh? I like that, my lad. I like it very much."
Winter said: "All the evidence against you is already before the Reichsfiihrer SS. Your court-martial will be held in a very few days now."
Eicher observed: "And now no one can help you any more. Neither Colonel Werthe nor Admiral Canaris. No one!"
Thomas again glanced at his watch.
Muffled sounds reached the room from the staircase. There was a hum of voices, words of command rang out and jackboots tramped. Thomas felt his heart beating faster. "I hope," he said, "that you gentlemen will do me the honor to attend my execution."
Eicher turned to listen to the noise outside. "What's going on out there?" he exclaimed.
The door flew open. A scared-looking orderly appeared, saluted and announced in a husky tone: "Three gentlemen from Berlin, Sturmbannfiihrer, on most urgent business ... Special Security Headquarters Committee ..."
So there
we are, thought Thomas. For the last time that day he glanced out of the window, up at the sky. I thank Thee, 6 God!
Eicher and Winter seemed to be rooted to their chairs. Eicher stammered: "Sp-spe-special committee?"
Then they were in the room. The SS judge wore the black uniform and boots of a Gruppenfuhrer and looked very sinister. The two counsel were of slighter build, wore glasses and saluted in military style.
The SS judge raised his hand in the so-called German salute. He spoke in icy tones. "Heil Hitler! Sturmbannfiihrer Eicher? Glad to meet you. I'll give you all the necessary explanations in a moment. And you, sir?"
"Untersturmfiihrer Winter . . ."
"And who is this?"
Eicher began to recover his equanimity. "Merely a visitor. You may leave us now, Heir Lieven."
The SS judge pricked up his ears. "Sonderfiihrer Thomas Lieven?"
"In person," said our friend.
"Then please stay where you are."
Eicher mumbled: "But why . ..?"
"Sturmbannfuhrer, be good enough to summon Ober-sturmfuhrer Redecker to join us. But say nothing else, do you understand?"
The brother-in-law of Heinrich Himmler entered a moment or two later, with a smile on his thin lips. The smile stiffened when he saw the visitors.
The SS judge said to Winter: "Search that man for weapons."
Winter obeyed, in utter bewilderment.
Redecker swallowed hard, staggered and dropped heavily into a chair.
The SS judge looked down at him with disgust. "Ober-sturmfiihrer," he said. "You are under arrest."
"Reichsheini's" brother-in-law burst into sobs. The pallid Winter gulped violently.
Eicher suddenly cried out in a broken voice: "But what for?"
The colossus in black retorted coldly: "The Obersturm-fiihrer is involved in a fraud connected with German i Treasury bills to the value of millions. In common with Untersturmfuhrer Petersen, who was shot at Toulouse, he has inflicted injury upon his country in the basest and vilest man-i; ner. The investigation now proceeding will show what other i members of the Paris Security Service have been implicated in < this affair."
Eicher stared at the judge in amazement. "I don't under- | stand a word of this ... Who has brought this monstrous i charge?"
The judge in black told him who had brought it.
Eicher's jaw dropped. With glassy eyes he gaped at Thomas | Lieven and stuttered: "You ... you ... you ..."
Then an incident occurred which almost deprived Sturm-bannfiihrer Eicher of his reason. The SS judge walked up , to Thomas Lieven, shook him by the hand and said: "Sonderfiihrer, in the name of the Reichsfiihrer SS, I declare to j you his gratitude and appreciation."
"Don't mention it," said Thomas modestly. "I was only too happy to be of service."
"The Reichsfiihrer SS authorizes me to inform you that he has already consulted Admiral Canaris concerning this matter and that no steps will be taken against you in connection therewith."
"Well, how nice of Herr Himmler," said Thomas Lieven.
[10]
Altogether twenty-three arrests were made as a consequence of the German Treasury bills fraud. The guilty parties included only two Frenchmen and three Rumanians.
The case was heard in camera. The two Frenchmen, one of the Rumanians and Untersturmfuhrer Hansmann were condemned to death. The rest of the accused were sentenced to long terms of imprisonment
Obersturmfiihrer Redecker got eight years. But Heinrich Himmler soon proved his sense of family solidarity. Obersturmfiihrer Redecker was only in jail for six months. Then the Reichsfiihrer SS personally directed that he should be released and summoned to Berlin. He worked there in a subordinate capacity until the end of the war.
He came through all this troubles not a' whit the worse. Today he is a prominent member of a nationalist group in northern Germany.
[11]
During the morning of August 28, 1944, Thomas left the hotel in Marseilles where he had been staying while on a service mission and deposited a bag in the cloakroom of the main station. There had been a little fighting in the suburbs, but not much. Marseilles was liberated in the afternoon of August 29. Thomas Lieven tore up his various Security Service passes and collected a number of papers which had done him good service in the days of the Crozant resistance group.
That evening a certain Captain Robert Almond Everett, a British agent recently parachuted into France, reported to American headquarters. He stated that he required immediate repatriation to London. The American authorities entertained their gallant ally, who looked the very image of Thomas Lieven, with whisky and K rations.
French troops and partisan units which had marched in
from all the southern regions had also helped in the liberation of Marseilles. Two days after the victory a great celebration took place at the Hotel de Noailles, occupied by the Americans. All present, including Captain Robert Almond Everett, sang the French national anthem.
He was just singing "Le jour de gloire est arrive" when a heavy hand dropped on his shoulder. He swung around. Two gigantic American military policemen stood behind him. Beside them stood a man who looked like an oversize Adolphe Menjou.
"Arrest that man," said Colonel Jules Simeon, who now wore a splendid uniform. "He is one of the most dangerous German agents employed during the war. Put up your hands, Herr Lieven. You've gone too far this time and the game's up."
[12]
General de Gaulle and the Americans had entered Paris on August 25. On September 15 Thomas Lieven found himself, for the second time in his life, in the prison at Fresnes, close to the capital. First it had been the Gestapo which looked him up in Fresnes. Now it was the French.
A week went by, then two. Thomas endured this new incarceration philosophically. He often thought, with resignation, Well, it was bound to come and I suppose I deserve it. In those evil years I did make a pact with the devil. And "who eats with the devil must have a long spoon!"
On the other hand ...
On the other hand I have so many friends here. I have helped so many French people, Yvonne Dechamps, for instance, Ferroud the banker and Mme. Page. I have saved many French lives. Now I am sure they will help me.
How long a sentence am T likely to get? Six months? Well, that would be all right. I shall survive it. And then, then at last I shall be free. Then at last I can return to England. After so many years at last I shall be living in peace. No more secret service, so more adventures! I shall live as I used to. On the capital I have in Zurich in the name of Eugen Walterli.
Heavy footsteps approached the cell. A key was turned in the lock. The door swung open. Two French soldiers stood on the threshold.
"Get ready!" said the first soldier.
"Ah, at last," said Thomas Lieven, putting on his jacket
370
"You've certainly kept me waiting a devil of a time for interrogation!"
"Interrogation be damned," said the second soldier. "You're going to be shot."
and of medium height, with a narrow head, black hair and shrewd eyes. He wore a well-fitting uniform and looked about thirty-five. But despite the uniform the impression he made was decidedly non-military.
The captain, whose real name was Thomas Lieven and who had been long, long ago a successful private banker in London, shook hands with the two-star general and said: "I shall be honored if you will join us for lunch, sir."
[21
To be shot? thought Thomas Lieven in horror, as the soldiers led him out, handcuffed, into the gloomy prison yard. Good God! And I believed they were only going to sentence me to a few months!
The soldiers pushed him into the same windowless, evil-smelling bus which in former days he had been forced to enter by German soldiers.
The vehicle still stank of sweat and anguish. Thomas Lieven, emaciated, pallid and unshaven, crouched there in a crumpled suit. His braces, tie and shoelaces had been taken away. A wave of nausea overwhelmed him.
He did not know where he
was when the vehicle stopped somewhere in Paris, in another gloomy courtyard. Apathetically he allowed the soldiers to hustle him into a room in a large building.
When the door opened he felt giddy and began gasping for breath. He heard voices and words without understanding them. He stared at a man seated in the uniform of a French colonel behind a desk. He was a tall man with tanned features, hair graying at the temples and frank, steady eye. The blood began to beat wildly in Thomas's brain as he realized that he was safe. He had recognized Josephine Baker's friend, whose life he himself had once saved in Lisbon, Colonel Debras of the Deuxi&me Bureau.
The colonel gave no sign, by word or gesture, that he knew Thomas Lieven. "Get over there," he snared at Thomas. "Sit down and keep your trap shut." Thomas sat down where he was told and kept his trap shut.
The soldiers made a great to-do over unfastening his handcuffs and formally handing over their prisoner. It seemed an eternity before they finally departed with their receipt, leaving Thomas alone with Debras.
Debras smiled. "Josephine sends you her regards, you infernal rascal."
"Thanks, that's very good of her. Where ... where is madame?"
"In Casablanca. I acted as governor of the town, you know."
"How interesting."
"I had business in Paris and learned by chance that you had been arrested."
Thomas began to feel better. "Your colleague Colonel Simeon was responsible. I was just singing the 'Marseillaise.' At a national liberation ceremony. I ought to have stayed in the hotel and kept my mouth shut. Then I should long ago have been in London. But national anthems never did bring anyone good luck."
D6bras said: "I know a lot about you and everything you have done against us. But! also know what you have done for us. When I arrived in Paris the other day I heard about the jam you were in. I don't belong to the Deux&me Bureau any longer. I'm a member of the War Crimes Investigation Department. So I could only get hold of you by putting you on my list of war criminals and stating that you would be shot It was the only way of getting you out of jail at Fresnes. Not a bad dodge, eh?"
The Monte Cristo Cover-Up Page 40
