Twilight of Gutenberg

by Hitoshi Goto

  “But still, I wonder why you came to Berlin?”

  “I came of my own free will.”

  He looked surprised. “You weren’t ordered here?”

  “I’m not in the military. I’m not under any obligation to follow orders from anyone.”

  “Hmm. Just the sort of answer I’d expect from you. So, what are you doing here?”

  I showed him my papers from the embassy.

  “I know more than I did last time when met, so I’ll make this clear right away. I’m a diplomat in the service of the Empire of Japan.”

  He glanced briefly at the certificate. “Ho, ho, ho. So you have diplomatic immunity from arrest. And from Germany’s perspective, you are an honoured diplomat from one of the few allies left to us at this time.”

  “And when I got into your car, we were specifically witnessed by one of my colleagues at the embassy.”

  He gave a deep belly laugh. “That’s hilarious! All of a sudden you’re a distinguished diplomat!”

  Even at a time like this, he had nerves of steel.

  Sonnenberger guided his car into an underground car park on the corner of Voss Strasse, then led me through to his office. The white light bulb in the four metre square room created an unnatural environment. He sat down at his desk, and I sat on a wooden chair facing him.

  I couldn’t clearly recognise the place, but I had the feeling it was close to the room where I’d met Admiral Voss.

  “I get the impression it’s not your first time in this bunker.”

  “I came to meet Admiral Voss last week.”

  “What for?”

  “It’s a diplomatic secret, but if you force me to tell you then it’s about the issue of Japan taking in a governmental VIP.” I noticed a sharp gleam in Sonnenberger’s eyes when I said this.”

  “Is that so? And?”

  “I conveyed his message to my government.”

  “I see. Well, you still haven’t answered my question. Why did you come to Berlin? You’re not in the military, and there was no need for you to risk your life by coming here at this time. I suppose you must have had a particular reason?”

  “Yes. I came to solve a mystery that has been puzzling me since last year.”

  “Mystery?”

  “Yes. In April last year I came to the Guest House in Potsdam at the invitation of your government.”

  “Right. And?” His expression didn’t change in the slightest.

  “And then our hosts, the Manteuffels, died in suspicious circumstances.”

  “Maybe something like that did happen, but there have been so many shocking events since then.”

  “I know. However, there is no way you could forget that one.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “Because you’re the one who killed them.”

  Instantly the atmosphere turned icy. I ignored it, and went on. “That’s why I came to Berlin. Because I want you to tell me why.”

  †

  The Soviet forces resumed their shelling. I felt the whole bunker shake.

  “Don’t pay it any attention. It’s the Soviets again. Even if we get a direct hit here, we’ll be safe.” Sonnenberger was as cool as ever despite my accusation. “Anyway, so it’s because of your concern for the Manteuffels. Actually, they came to know the most fearful secret about the future of the Third Reich. The fact was they had to die. Fortunately, though, they decided to poison themselves out of their own neurosis.”

  “Don’t think you can fool me like that at this stage. They didn’t commit suicide. They were killed on your instructions,” I snapped.

  Sonnenberger looked amused. “Have you got any proof?”

  “Otto Priess worked directly under you.”

  He remained completely unmoved. “So? The whole country is under me. There’s nothing strange about a butler being my subordinate. Apart from anything, the Manteuffels died in a closed room, locked with a heavy key from inside. How would a murderer have escaped the room?”

  “The murderers didn’t escape.”

  “What? So you accept that it’s suicide?”

  “No. Before the siege of Berlin started, I went back to the bunker at the Guest House.” For a moment I thought I saw Sonnenberger’s face tense. “I found them, you know. Inside the bunker. The poor things were reduced to bones inside a tiny space just fifty centimetres square.”

  A shell must have fallen nearby, for the whole bunker shook from the impact.

  “So you really did find them?”

  “Yes. Two skeletons, still in their ragged prison clothes, standing in the narrow vertical space.”

  His expression didn’t change. I pushed on.

  “They’d been cheated, hadn’t they? They killed the Manteuffels, closed the door from inside, then hid in the hole under the washbasin, pulling down the camouflaged lid after them so they wouldn’t be found. There was an oxygen tank in the hole too, so they could breathe for a while. They’d been told that someone would get them out of there once the first investigation had been completed. But that was a lie. Instead your underling plastered over the bricks, sealing up the hole while the two of them were still alive inside it. Just to make sure they couldn’t tell anyone that the Manteuffels were killed. Of course it wouldn’t even occur to anyone that the murderers would still be trapped inside that closed room. Am I wrong?”

  “How did you know those two were trapped in a hole inside that bunker?”

  “The Manteuffels never gave any indication of wishing to commit suicide. And even if they had, they would have waited until their Japanese guests had left, surely. A veteran diplomat wouldn’t do anything that would leave mud on Foreign Minister Ribbentrop’s face in front of special guests, and psychologically it doesn’t fit. Which means that the timing of their supposed suicide was all a charade that was staged for we guests to witness it. The closed room was prepared in the form of the bunker. The couple had already probably been poisoned in the Guest House, and your underling, Priess, ordered those two prisoners to take them into the bunker and close the door from inside, completing the sealed room scenario.”

  “Those prisoners followed the orders to the letter, then.”

  “They’d been promised that if they did so, their lives would be spared. They’d probably been promised with release. They were Jews. They’d been told that if they didn’t cooperate, they’d be sent straight back to the concentration camp, hadn’t they?”

  “So how come you knew the prisoners were Jews?”

  “Because inside the lid they had scratched out some words with their fingernails and blood on the wood. Can’t breathe, and Help! I’d assumed it was in German, but I don’t understand German so I checked and was told it was Yiddish. The people who died in agony in that hole were Jews.”

  He didn’t look in the least bit affected by what I’d said.

  “You haven’t answered my question. How did you know?”

  “Because of the smell.”

  “The smell?”

  “When first I went into that bunker, it still smelled of drying concrete. They said it had been laid only that morning, so it had probably been done to cover up the smell of the plaster used to shut them in. Also, when I tapped the floor, it sounded slightly different according to the place.”

  “That’s very sharp of you,” he said, looking impressed.

  “Not me, Sherlock Holmes.”

  “The English Detective?”

  “Yes, there was a scene in which he uses his cane to tap on the floor to ascertain whether there was a tunnel.”

  Sonnenberger laughed. “That must be The Red-Headed League!”

  “Have your read it?”

  “Yes. But in that story, if it hadn’t been a magic cane, it wouldn’t have worked in reality. But in any case, your deduction is truly impressive.”

 
“So you admit it?”

  Sonnenberger was silent for a while, then said, “Do you remember me telling you about Johannes Gutenberg last time?”

  That was unexpected. “Gutenberg?”

  “Yes. He was a goldsmith from Mainz. The Latin translation of the Bible by Saint Jerome, known as the 42-line Bible, had been widely used in Europe in the Middle Ages. Every copy, page, paragraph, line, and letter was painstakingly copied by hand. Then Gutenberg developed a movable type print technology and quickly printed multiple copies with it. It was truly a groundbreaking achievement—a grand scheme that would never have been accomplished without the German people.”

  “What has that got to do with the Manteuffels being murdered on your instructions?”

  “Gutenberg printed 180 copies of the Bible. There are probably not even 50 left in existence,” he said, not answering my question. He could hardly contain his glee. “Think about it. In the past, writings were communicated to later generations by monks who painstakingly copied them out in a scriptorium in a monastery. Since they were handwritten, it was hard to make a large number of identical writings. But thanks to the development of printing, all kinds of information and writings can be reproduced without limit. Göbbels once burned books written by Jews in the Opera Platz. And in fact, the emperor of your country once did something similar a long time ago, didn’t he?”

  “That’s China, not Japan.”

  Sonnenberger chuckled. “Is that so? I apologise. But still, however many books you burn, as long as there are printers, you can carry on printing as many evil books as you want.”

  “And?”

  “You’re beginning to get the picture, aren’t you? It’s the same this time, too. There was a national secret we had to protect. My boss is Kaltenbrunner. And in practice, his boss is Martin Bormann, who appointed me to be in charge of that top secret information.”

  “In practice?”

  Sonnenberger forced a laugh, but it lacked conviction.

  “Yes. Officially we are under Himmler, but the Führer doesn’t trust him. He trusts Bormann. We have our own survival to consider. Together with Kaltenbrunner, we swore loyalty to Bormann. And Bormann ordered us to do everything to protect this secret.”

  “I suppose you mean Romulus?”

  He goggled at me a moment, then roared with laughter. “So you already know about that then. The fact that an heir was born to our Führer.”

  “Yes.”

  “I suppose Keitel leaked it to Canaris, and from there it did the rounds and eventually reached your ears. Well, never mind. It’s marvellous news. It guarantees our Third Reich will thrive for the next thousand years.”

  “Shouldn’t you have announced it? If it’s such an auspicious event?”

  “That’s not like you. The reason we didn’t announce it is obvious, surely. The Führer is single. How can he have an heir?”

  “Oh.”

  “And there is a bigger reason than that. What kind of future awaits that boy, I wonder?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “He was born in February 1943, six months before I met you. Our 6th Army was about to be annihilated in Stalingrad. Was there any chance of Germany winning the war against the Soviets and the Anglo Saxons?”

  “So you already thought at that time that Germany would lose the war?”

  “Earlier than that, to be frank. We already knew we would lose at the point when the Americans were dragged into the war thanks to your country. I would never say this publicly, nor should I. It’s something you would know if you thought about it with a clear head. We had already started war on a second front with the Soviets before Britain had surrendered, something that based on the previous war we should have avoided at all costs. And then, before occupying Moscow, we were also at war with the leading industrial nation America. I could understand it if Japan was also fighting against our common enemy the Soviets. However, even though they’d started the war with America, much of the Japanese Army was still tied up in the war with China. Germany and Japan were now fighting the strongest nation on earth while simultaneously facing in different directions. Anyone who gave it any clearheaded thought would know our country would be routed. But unlike the previous war, the Führer would absolutely not seek peace. Berlin will continue fighting until the very end, I suppose. So what kind of a future awaits the son of the Führer of a defeated country? President of a reborn Germany?” he said, looking straight at me.

  I didn’t have any words to answer him with.

  “It was decided that this secret should never be written down. The only exception is on the medical records of Eva Braun.”

  “Eva Braun?”

  “That’s right, Hitler’s lover.”

  “His lover?”

  “Yes, although most Germans don’t know it. After all, he’d put it out that he was celibate. Eva Braun was raised in a complete ordinary family. She is with Hitler now in a lower level of this very bunker, not far from here. And she is Romulus’s mother.”

  I was speechless.

  “You never know when the medical record might be necessary for his upbringing, so it’s not as if we can destroy them. It was decided to have the doctor at the Dresden hospital where she went twice for checkups and gave birth keep her notes. He signed a pledge that he would be shot on the spot if he ever told anyone else about it. Actually, though, the notes were burned to a cinder along with the whole of Dresden in February. I suppose you heard about the air raids on Dresden?”

  I nodded silently.

  “Well, to get back to the subject. Although the birth was supposed to be kept secret, the number of people who knew about it steadily increased. From the start I tried to stop the secret from spreading, even disposing of the maid in Guernsey to that end, but it’s too late. If it has already leaked this far, there is no controlling it. Even you know about it.”

  “So there was a different reason for killing the Manteuffels?”

  “Yes, different, although it was still related to Romulus. The truth is, there is a second layer to the secret of Romulus, although I can’t tell you what it is,” he said enigmatically. “Oops, I’d better be careful. That’s how secrets get leaked!” he added with a weak smile.

  I purposely said nothing, and just stared at him.

  “Only twelve people know this deeper secret.”

  “The twelve apostles?”

  “I’m afraid the apostles are furthest from these,” he said with another smile. “They included Ribbentrop, Bormann, Göbbels, Dönitz, Kaltenbrunner, and myself, too,” he said, and paused briefly. “And the Manteuffels. I suppose you know that the Marquis was Ribbentrop’s confidant. After Romulus was born, he was let in on the secret. And what’s more, he was in a position where he could see the second layer. That scared me. Given the chance, he could easily turn into Gutenberg’s printing press.”

  “What is the second layer?”

  “Please don’t make me tell you that. I would have to kill you, too, if I did. Actually, I’ve only just had to kill another man who found out about it, even though he was a Gruppenführer in the SS.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Fegelein. He was Eva Braun’s brother-in-law. He heard about the secret directly from her.”

  I’d never heard of him before.

  “That’s why I had to have the Manteuffels killed too.”

  “Even by sacrificing innocent people?”

  “Well, they were Jews.”

  “But they had families, they had their own lives. Didn’t you feel any compunction over wiping them out? That’s a crime.”

  “If you weren’t Japanese and if the circumstances were different, I would have you arrested on the spot and sent to a concentration camp. You are lucky.”

  “That is no explanation for killing two innocent Jews.”

  “I am not going to d
iscuss this issue with you. We Nazis’ ultimate objective is to create an Aryan empire, ruled by Aryan Germans. Which means the Jews must be eradicated from the face of the earth.”

  I was dumbfounded. He paid me no attention and went on, “I’m sure that future historians will immediately realise that the starting point of the Nazi nation created by this Führer was not simply anti-Jew, or anti-Communist. It was an occult nation, a nation of the dark arts as advocated by the secret organisation called the Thule Society.”

  “The what?”

  “Do you know about Atlantis? The name Thule is taken from the myth of the legendary northern Germanic nation. They were from a continent that disappeared somewhere around Greenland or Labrador at the northernmost point of the globe. Even though Thule disappeared into history, its magic has been handed down to some of the people called Thulists. One day, Germany’s army will rise up against the forces obstructing the fate of the planet, and that army will be led by the great people of the ancient world.”

  “I though that was just a fantasy.”

  “For most people it’s probably just a meaningless ritual. However, for those who believe it, it becomes truth. Think about it. See the Nazi party flag?” he said, pointing to the swastika on his desk. “The red background symbolises the party’s social ideal, and the white disk in the centre symbolises nationalism. And the black swastika inside the disk symbolises the fight for victory for the Aryans. However, there was one point that was changed from the original on the insistence of the Führer. Do you know what it is?”

  “No, what is it?”

  “The direction swastika is facing. Originally it was anti-clockwise, but Hitler inverted it.”

  “Why?”

  “It symbolises darkness and black magic, and also destruction.”

  I was shocked. I had sensed something questionable about Hitler’s empire, but it hadn’t occurred to me it had such a sordid side.

  Just then, an SS liaison officer came into the room and whispered something in his ear. Sonnenberger nodded lightly, then turned to me.

  “Some Soviet scouts are beginning to turn up around the Aviation Ministry, it seems. And the attack on the Reichstag is also beginning. It would be extremely dangerous to leave here now.”