Angel of Vengeance: The thrilling sequel to Angel in Red (Anna Fehrbach)

by Christopher Nicole

  Anna caught her breath. Judith’s naked body was on its back, its head nestling on the mat of titian hair, its green eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Her face was calm and relaxed; as she could have been dead only a couple of hours, rigor mortis had not yet set in. I will look like this, one day, Anna thought. Perhaps one day soon. Will I look as relaxed, as beautiful?

  ‘I would like you to look closely,’ Feutlanger said. ‘And tell me if you see any marks, any discolouration, any punctures in the skin.’

  Anna had to swallow an excess of saliva. ‘You would not have brought me here if there was anything to find, Herr Feutlanger. How did she die?’

  ‘Korvin!’

  The attendant pulled Judith’s lips apart. Don’t touch her, Anna wanted to shout, but she did not, and with an effort Korvin parted the teeth. Instantly she smelt almonds. ‘You will have to explain this to the Reich-Protector,’ Anna said in a low voice.

  ‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘But I am hoping you will be able to explain it to me first. Let us leave this place.’

  Anna was happy to get out into the crisp winter air. ‘You keep being mysterious. Now I would like some plain speaking. Are you attempting to tell me that the Countess did not die in your custody?’

  ‘That is correct. As you know, Fraulein, I had my suspicions of the Countess. But they were no more than that and, as you say, she was both a foreign national and a lady of apparent importance. So I merely issued my staff each with a photograph of her, and told them to report if she was found to be indulging in any subversive activity. I will admit that they may from time to time be over-zealous. But that is partly your responsibility, after the slating you gave them, two years ago, over their mishandling of the shooting business, and the report you made to Berlin. So, knowing of my interest in the lady, when two of my people, on duty at the Central Station, saw the countess about to board a train for Switzerland, they approached her.’

  ‘And you are saying they did not arrest her?’

  ‘They did not have the time. They stood beside her and said, “May we have a word, Countess”, and a moment later she was dead.

  Because she was obsessed with the certainty that she would one day have to kill herself, Anna thought. She had almost been waiting for the moment to arrive.

  ‘My people immediately removed her before there could be a scene, and they also had her luggage.’

  ‘And?’ Anna felt the tension creeping through her body. Not that she could accept that Judith would ever be so stupid as to travel with incriminating documents.

  ‘Oh, there was nothing.’

  ‘In other words, your thugs are responsible for the death of an innocent woman.’ The car had arrived in the castle courtyard, and the door was being opened for her. ‘That will go in my report.’

  ‘If I could have a word in private, Countess.’

  ‘Are you arresting me, Herr Feutlanger?’

  ‘Of course I am not, Fraulein. There are just one or two matters I would like to discuss with you.’ He escorted her up the steps. ‘It will not take a moment. My office is right here.’

  Anna shrugged and entered the office, took off her coat and hat, laid them on a chair, sat before the desk, and crossed her legs. She knew she was still in a critical situation, but she also knew that the only way to deal with this self-important little man was to be even more aggressive.

  Feutlanger sat behind the desk. ‘The question we need to ask is, does an innocent woman normally walk around with a cyanide capsule in her mouth?’

  ‘As the Countess is dead, we will never be able to ask her that.’

  ‘Well, let me put it another way. If I were to search you now, including inside your mouth, would I find a cyanide capsule?’

  ‘You would not, Herr Feutlanger. And if you were to attempt it, you would find yourself lying on a slab in that morgue, beside the Countess.’

  He regarded her for several seconds, then decided to adopt a different approach. ‘You knew this woman. You have confessed to that.’

  ‘My dear Feutlanger, your world is closing in on you. Can you think of nothing but confessions and admissions, and lies? You asked me if I knew the Countess, a rather irrelevant question as we had been having coffee together, and I told you that we had been at school together. That was a fact, not a confession.’

  ‘And you have not seen her since. Except today, of course.’

  The trap was blatant. ‘As you say, I did not see her again before today. But I saw her today, when she was still alive.’

  Feutlanger’s eyebrows shot up; he had not expected such a ready admission. ‘You saw her today? When? Where?’

  ‘Oh, come now, Feutlanger, we met at the coffee shop, this morning, as you well know. She is, or was, apparently a regular customer, and I happened to stop by this morning, so we met again.’

  ‘Again, purely by chance.’

  ‘Why, yes.’

  ‘And what did you talk about?’

  ‘Nothing of the slightest interest to you. Although she did tell me that she had completed her business here in Prague, and was returning to Madrid this afternoon.’

  ‘And you discerned nothing . . . unusual in her attitude, in what she had to say?’

  ‘No, I did not. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to have some lunch.’

  She went upstairs. ‘Oh, Countess,’ Birgit said. ‘You were so long.’ She opened the oven in the kichenette. ‘I hope this is not spoiled.’

  ‘It does not matter. I do not want it.’

  ‘Countess?’

  ‘I am not feeling very well,’ Anna said. ‘I am going to bed, and I do not wish to be disturbed.’

  *

  Rationally, she supposed she was being absurd. If she had killed twenty-one times, this was one death for which she could not be held responsible. As she had thought, Judith had virtually had a death wish, almost a longing to have the tension of her life ended. She wondered if anyone at MI6 had realized by how slender a thread her sanity had hung.

  But the death of a woman with whom she had been associated had always distressed her, more than that of any man. Only once had it been premeditated. Elsa Mayers, Hannah Gehrig, Ludmilla Tserchenka had all been instantaneous reactions to dangerous situations; the two women in Washington – she did not even know their names – had been utterly hateful, but even then, while she had been waiting for the moment to take them on, gaining possession of the tommy gun had been fortuitous, opening fire instinctive. Gabriella Hosek had been an act of mercy, to save the woman from the hours of unbearable torture that were about to be inflicted on her by Feutlanger and his thugs. But she could remember as if it were yesterday holding Marlene Gehrig under the bath water until she drowned. She had felt physically sick; she still did when she thought of it.

  But Judith . . . Had they loved each other? They had made love, certainly. It had been a charade that had come very close to reality. What might have developed out of that she would never know. The true importance of Judith had been that they had shared the same profession, taken the same risks, sought the same ends. And would they wind up in the same place? Naked on a stone slab to be leered at by people like Feutlanger? Anna fiercely reminded herself that dying was not on her agenda, no matter what it took to keep her alive. Or to complete her mission.

  *

  ‘I gather that you have been having an interesting time,’ Heydrich remarked.

  Anna had not seen him immediately on his return; she had waited for him to come to her to tell her his news, and he had not done so for several hours. Well, she reflected, he had had his family to meet, and clearly he had had a session with Feutlanger. But now he was here.

  ‘Herr Feutlanger seemed to find it so,’ she agreed.

  ‘While the odd dead body no longer interests you,’ he remarked. ‘Even when it is that of a friend.’

  ‘School friendships seldom endure, sir. Frankly I was embarrassed when she suddenly turned up. I am sure you understand that I cannot greet old friends with the news
of what I have been doing these last few years.’

  ‘Good point.’ He sipped the glass of schnapps she had poured him. ‘And she gave you no hint that she was engaged in subversive activities?’

  Anna shrugged. ‘I think she may have had ideas of perhaps seeking my help, or even recruiting me. But when I told her I was working as a secretary for the Reich here in Prague, she changed the subject.’

  ‘Did this conversation take place the first or the second time you met?’

  Damn this man’s powers of perception, Anna thought. ‘It was the first time, sir.’

  ‘Yet she wanted to see you again.’

  ‘No, sir. She did not want to see me again. As I told Herr Feutlanger, she was apparently a regular customer at the coffee shop. I did not know this until I encountered her the second time. Then I think we both felt that we had to greet each other.’

  ‘And she told you she was leaving Prague to return to Spain. Did you get the impression that she had completed her task here?’

  ‘She told me she had completed her business, yes.’

  ‘But not what that business was.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, I suppose we shall never know the truth of it now. Feutlanger has been able to find no indication of any subversive activities in the city. Although,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘in view of the past behaviour of these people, that in itself could be suspicious. However, there can be no question that she was engaged in some illegal activity. You say you met her in Spain? At your hotel?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And her husband tried to sell you real estate?’

  ‘Yes. I think, from my clothes and jewellery, she got the impression that I had become a wealthy woman, like her. I’m afraid I did not correct that misapprehension, as I did not wish her prying into my affairs.’

  ‘Absolutely. But it may interest you to know that Feutlanger has made enquiries in Spain . . . Well, he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle the affair, what to do with the body, how to get hold of the husband, and so on, and he found out that there is no such person as the Count de Sotomayer, and therefore, of course, no Countess. You had no suspicions of this when you met them? This Count, what did you make of him?’

  Anna’s brain was tumbling. ‘He was a middle-aged man, not very attractive. I’m afraid I did not pay very much attention to him.’

  ‘Yet they picked you up.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Well, Anna, think. If the title was spurious, they were obviously at least confidence tricksters. I would have supposed the last thing they would have wanted was for her to run into an old school friend. At the sight of you, she should hastily have made herself scarce.’

  ‘Unless they thought I would be a soft touch for whatever scam they were engaged in.’

  ‘Good point. It is still a pity that she could not be interrogated.’

  ‘I entirely agree, sir. I cannot help but feel what happened was the result of the heavy-handedness of Feutlanger’s mob. May I ask what has happened to the body?’

  ‘Oh, it has been cremated. We had no use for it, and neither did anybody else. In all the circumstances, I think you had a fortunate escape, or heaven knows what you might have been sucked into. Well . . .’ He got up. ‘I will see you later.’

  ‘You have not told me the outcome of your visit, sir.’

  ‘Oh, that went as well as we had hoped. I am now the Fuehrer’s heir.’

  ‘Oh, sir! Congratulations! Does that mean we will be leaving Prague?’

  ‘Yes. But not right away. He wishes to prepare the ground before the announcement is made.’

  ‘Was my name mentioned?’ She held her breath.

  ‘You are a greedy little wanton. I thought it best not to mention your name, and he did not.’ Anna could not stop her breath from escaping in a sigh of relief, but fortunately he again misinterpreted her reaction. ‘Do not be disappointed. I have promised you a place at my side, and you shall have it.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. May I ask if a date for your return, for the announcement to be made, was agreed?’

  ‘Why, yes. The Fuehrer feels that the end of May would be most appropriate. That is only four months off. By that time I should have completed my business here. It is a pity we were not able to establish exactly why your old school friend was here, but I’m sure something will turn up.’

  ‘I am sure of it,’ Anna said. ‘But as we are going to be here for another four months, do you think I could start taking music lessons?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Music lessons?’

  ‘I used to play the piano at school. I think I was quite good. But of course, once I went to training school I had no further opportunities. Dr Cleiner was not interested in music.’

  ‘Only in making you parade naked in front of him, eh?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘He is a nasty piece of work. But you must admit that he is good at his job. After all, he produced you.’

  Anna allowed her lip to curl. ‘He merely proved to me what I could do, sir.’

  ‘Good point.’

  ‘And the fact is that I really do not have enough to do here. Except when you are free, of course.’

  ‘Well, I have no objections to your taking lessons. But you’ll have to find someone here in Prague as a teacher; I do not wish you going back Berlin until I can accompany you.’

  Can he really be growing fond of me? Anna wondered. Or is he merely afraid to let me out of his sight? ‘I think there are people here in Prague who I could use, sir. I have had a Dr Corda recommended to me. Do you know of him?’

  Another case of holding her breath; Feutlanger had said that all intellectuals in Prague were under constant investigation and surveillance.

  Heydrich considered for a moment. ‘No. The name means nothing to me.’

  ‘Then you have no objection if I apply to join him as a student.’

  ‘By all means do so.’

  ‘And will you request Herr Feutlanger not to breathe down my neck every time I visit the doctor? It would be too embarrassing for words.’

  Heydrich nodded. ‘I will tell Feutlanger that your music lessons are not to be interfered with.’

  That was not quite what she wanted, but she dared not press any harder. ‘Thank you, sir. I will call for an appointment today.’

  Chapter Ten – Death in the Morning

  ‘Countess! This is an honour and a pleasure.’

  Alfred Corda was not what Anna had anticipated, being a very large man, over six feet tall and built like an ox. His only concession to being either an artist or an intellectual was his beard, which, like his dark hair, was streaked with grey, and his pince-nez. Now he bustled to help her out of her coat.

  Anna took off her gloves, removed her hat, and fluffed out her hair, while he watched appreciatively. ‘It is good of you to see me,’ she said. ‘You are clearly much in demand.’

  On her way up the stairs to the office she had passed several studios, all in use, and indeed the house was filled with scales and various discords, not to mention long-haired young men and dishevelled young women; she wondered if London’s assassination team had been amongst them.

  ‘But I repeat, this is an honour. We do not often entertain students from the castle. And you . . .’

  ‘I am somewhat mature for a student?’

  ‘No, no. Of course not. May I ask where you obtained my name?’

  ‘You were recommended to me.’ Anna glanced at the open door, but there was no one in sight, and there was such a background racket going on she did not suppose there was any risk of her being overheard. ‘By Belinda.’

  The doctor’s cultivated bonhomie disappeared as if she had turned a switch. He too glanced at the door, then went to it.

  ‘I would leave that open,’ Anna suggested. ‘As we have just met for the first time. If we both face it, we cannot be surprised, but to close it might encourage curiosity.’

  He hesitated, clearly unable to make up his mind, or to comp
rehend what was happening. ‘You are from the castle.’ It was almost an accusation.

  Anna sat down, crossed her knees. ‘Can you think of a better place for me to be from?’

  He licked his lips, and looked at the door again.

  ‘If you had been betrayed,’ Anna said, ‘do you think I would have come alone? You would already have been arrested.’

  A last hesitation, then he came back to his desk and sat down. ‘You could be a Nazi spy, sent to infiltrate . . .’ He paused.

  ‘Operation Daybreak?’

  He gasped, and his hand dropped to the desk drawer. But Anna, anticipating the reaction, had already opened her handbag and drawn her Luger. ‘Think,’ she recommended. ‘If you open that drawer, I will kill you. I can do that with impunity, because, as you have reminded yourself, I am from the castle, and am therefore inviolate. Equally, as I am from the castle, they know where I am at this moment.’

  ‘You . . .’

  ‘They know that I have come to you to begin a series of music lessons, and that each lesson is to last an hour. They are expecting me back for lunch. Now listen to me, very carefully. The Belinda you know, the Countess de Sotomayer, is dead.’

  ‘What? You—’

  ‘Please keep your voice down, and listen. She committed suicide when arrested by the Gestapo. I am very sorry about this, but you can rest assured that she did not betray you, or me, or any of us. She was, in any event, my deputy.’ She had no doubt that Judith’s shade would forgive her. ‘So her death, while it means that I have had to take over the direct contact with you, also means that there is no change in the overall plan.’

  ‘How can I believe this? London . . .’

  ‘Have you any means of contacting London?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Thank God for that. Then do so immediately. Ask them to name something only I can know.’

  ‘It will take time. It is very dangerous.’

  ‘We have time. At the moment. I will return next week, for another lesson.’

  ‘But for you to take command of such an operation. You are only a girl.’

  ‘Was not the Countess de Sotomayer a girl?’