Unholy Ghost

by James Green

  ‘Oh, she was straight enough, didn’t try to hide anything. She did everything but tell me that she was still a good Nazi like her father and still believes the Jews are behind everything including his death. She also said her parents loved each other, that her father used to cry when he talked about his wife. Does that sound like a man who, if he kept a mistress, would send a photo of them together to his wife just after their baby had been born?’

  ‘People do strange things at the best of times and this wasn’t the best of times, it was wartime. He was a young man far from home, maybe …’

  But now it was Jimmy who wasn’t listening. He was building a picture and he didn’t want anyone to change the way it looked.

  ‘He was a bloody fanatic, and fanatics don’t do things by half, not politics, not religion, not anything. He was a Catholic, the house was full of Catholic stuff. He was the sort who played by the rules. Once he’d decided to follow Hitler he was in all the way and for all time. It would have been the same with his wife, he wouldn’t have cheated on her with some ex-whorehouse madam.’

  But McBride didn’t like Jimmy’s picture.

  ‘Fanatics reconcile the irreconcilable every day. You should know that better than anyone.’

  Jimmy stopped. She was right. It wasn’t just possible, it could be easy. The best lies, and the biggest, were always the ones you told yourself. He should know, he’d built a life on lies that were not so different from the ones Young Hitler must have told himself.

  ‘Yeah, I know. But look at the whole thing. Apparently he loves his wife but as soon as he gets to Paris he shacks up with the Colmar woman. And look at the timing. He’s promoted, posted, and shacked up all in five minutes. It’s too neat, it has to be a cover for something else. And if you don’t like that then look at the Colmar woman. She gets to America and gets put on the game probably by her own brother. He gets himself knifed and she takes on the family business and does a damn sight better at it than he did. She runs a whorehouse for high-class punters and does a bit of blackmail on the side. She gets pregnant, has a kid, and pulls out. Off she goes to Paris to start a new life as a devout widow, but as soon as the Germans arrive, bingo, either she’s fallen in love or she’s back on the game. Neither of which makes any sense. Colmar had about as much romantic sentiment in her as a pit-bull and she was rich, why start working on her back again? And according to your dossier she got the kid out of the way before the Germans arrived. Why do that? Why clear the decks? The Germans were no threat to her or the kid, they weren’t Jews, they were American and America was neutral. As I see it, she wanted to be ready for when the Germans arrived. Whatever she was involved in was already up and running before the Germans got anywhere near Paris.’

  ‘And do you have any ideas on what she may have been up to?’

  ‘I thought about it on the plane coming back last night. She must have still had contacts in America, political and business. Your dossier said she made frequent visits to Switzerland from Paris once the Germans were settled in and her boyfriend was installed. Switzerland means banks and banks mean money. Either she was depositing it or getting it. My guess is she was putting it in.’

  ‘For the Germans?’

  ‘No, they wouldn’t have needed her to do that.’

  ‘For herself then?’

  ‘No, if she’d wanted to stash anything of her own in a Swiss bank she would have done it when she first arrived, not waited until the whole of Europe was at war. But if it was money and it had to go to Switzerland it meant that whoever it belonged to wanted it in a country that was neutral.’

  ‘If not for herself and not for the Germans then who?’

  ‘I think she was some kind of courier for somebody in America, somebody who was doing business with the Germans and whatever the business was they didn’t want Washington to know anything about it.’

  Professor McBride leaned back in her chair.

  ‘Well done, Mr Costello. Your deductive skills still do not disappoint. She was acting as the agent of a small group of American industrialists and financiers. From before 1939 to America’s entry into the war many people thought Germany would win. Once France fell that sentiment increased. How could Britain stand alone? It had to be no more than a matter of time before a German victory in Europe and then some sort of arrangement with Hitler would have to be hammered out. There was plenty of clever money in America which bet heavily on Germany. However, clever money always minimizes risk. What if Germany didn’t win?’

  ‘They wanted guarantees?’

  ‘Indeed they did, and not bits of paper, promissory notes signed by Hitler on behalf of the Thousand Year Reich. They required something more tangible.’

  ‘Gold in Swiss banks?’

  ‘Gold or anything as good.’

  ‘Loot?’

  ‘Anything that could always and quickly be converted into cash. The people in America who supplied hard dollars and a lot more besides required guarantees for their investments. They wanted to know that the Reich’s promises could be backed up. Mme Colmar was the person who made sure that everything that Berlin said was going to the Swiss banks as guarantees did indeed get there. The deal was that it would all be held until the end of the war. If Germany won then it could honour its I.O.Us in Reichmarks and its property would be safe and sound whenever they wanted to go and get it.’

  ‘And if they lost the Americans got what was in the Swiss vaults.’

  ‘Exactly. But when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor and America entered the war on the side of the Allies the arrangement became considerably more dangerous. A certain type of mind might even have seen their business arrangement with Germany, if continued, as treasonous.’

  Jimmy didn’t hide his surprise.

  ‘Bloody hell. They kept it going?’ McBride nodded. ‘But they were at war. You mean they actually kept doing business with Germany even though they were at war with them?’

  ‘Big business, Mr Costello, is never at war with anyone. Countries and governments have wars. Big business, really big business, has no frontiers and admits to no loyalty except profits. Big business has no friends and no enemies and works with whoever will help it to those profits.’

  ‘How did they get away with it?’

  ‘Through neutral countries and dummy companies. They knew what they were doing and how to do it, despite the war, business, like life, went on. They supplied both sides and made handsome profits.’

  ‘Christ. And when Germany lost?’

  ‘The guarantees were invoked and the deposits withdrawn.’

  Jimmy tried to let it all sink in.

  ‘But they knew it was loot.’

  ‘Not to them. They didn’t steal it.’

  ‘OK, but wasn’t it all still very risky? A lot of the stuff must have been identifiable as loot, stolen from Jews and God knows who else. Weren’t they worried questions would get asked?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. These were men of huge power and influence. Some of them were at the heart of rebuilding Europe. They were above suspicion and had access to every possible resource. If questions did get asked, they would be the ones doing the asking. It was quite simple for them to realise their guarantees so long as they took their time and decent precautions. Europe was such a mess after the war they could have stolen a couple of small countries and probably got away with it. Stalin stole the whole of Eastern Europe and Britain and the US congratulated themselves on a job well done. As Europe healed and things settled down the Cold War set in. America forgot about Nazis and began looking for Reds under beds. The people who were involved quietly got on with liquidating their guarantees and saving the world for freedom and democracy.’

  ‘So they got away with it?’

  ‘Yes. They always do, don’t they?’

  Jimmy thought about it for a moment.

  ‘I suppose they do. It must go on all the time. Every so often the whole crappy machine overheats and blows a gasket and there’s some bloodletting, but I suppose the really big fis
h see it coming and make sure it’s never their blood that finishes up on the floor.’

  ‘No, Mr Costello, never their blood.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  They both sat in silence for a moment. Then Jimmy put any thought of right and wrong away from him. This wasn’t about right and wrong. McBride hadn’t sent him to Paris on any moral crusade. There was something in this Colmar business that she wanted and he was the one who was going to get it for her.

  ‘So how is the convent mixed up in it? The nuns didn’t get the place until after the war, they couldn’t have been involved. What’s the problem there?’

  ‘There is the possibility, an outside one, but still a possibility, that there may still be something compromising hidden away in the convent. We need to be sure the building is swept, thoroughly swept, and anything that shouldn’t be there is removed before any new owner takes over. It is entirely possible that Mme Colmar, being the sort of entrepreneur she was, decided to appropriate for herself some of what should have gone into the Swiss vaults. When the Allied invasion made it time to close things down she had to leave Paris quickly and after the Normandy landings things became somewhat dislocated among the German occupying forces. She still had no difficulty, given her connections, in going to Switzerland but she would have had to travel with very little in the way of luggage and would definitely not have carried anything that might compromise her with the authorities, German, Swiss, or even Allied. It is just possible that she may have decided to leave things concealed in her Paris house in the hope that one day she would be able to retrieve them.’

  ‘Which would give her a good reason to lease the place to the nuns. Apart from making sure it didn’t fall into any unfriendly hands the nuns weren’t likely to do any serious redevelopment without asking her first.’

  ‘Exactly. If there is anything hidden in the convent and it were to come into the light of public scrutiny that would be unfortunate. We need to be sure that anything of a compromising nature is quietly removed. To be able to do that we need total and unrestricted access with full authorisation which means we need to produce the heir to the Colmar estate.’

  Jimmy understood, or at least he thought he understood. But it didn’t fit together as well as it should, not if McBride was the one putting the pieces together.

  ‘Isn’t that all a bit over the top? If anything’s there then it would be down to Colmar. No one could possibly think the nuns …’

  ‘Mr Costello, public relations is obviously not your field but I will try to explain. Even after all these years anyone found to be in possession of Nazi loot immediately becomes headline news. That would be especially so if that “anyone” happens to be a part of the Church. After the war far too many ex-Nazis slipped away from justice through the help of Catholic clergy or religious. The last thing the Church needs at this time is to find compromising material in a Catholic convent. The Church, in the face of considerable opposition, is in the process of trying to canonise Pope Pius XII.’

  ‘Didn’t someone call him Hitler’s Pope?’

  McBride almost scowled, but only almost.

  ‘I believe there was a book of that title. If it came out that a convent in Paris was found to be the repository for ex-Nazi loot what do you think forces antagonistic to the Church would make of it?’

  ‘They’d have a field day.’

  ‘The beatification of Pope Pius XII is no small matter. It will be a symbol of the Church’s rejection of Nazism and all other godless ideologies. If it is frustrated it will be a serious blow to the prestige of the Church, the Vatican, and the Papacy.’

  ‘Not to mention Pope Pius himself wherever he is.’

  ‘Please don’t be flippant, Mr Costello. I hope you now see why we must find a suitable heir to Mme Colmar’s estate or at least prolong the process until we can be sure that all that needs to be done is done.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. But if the nuns are moving out why can’t the Church quietly move in and do what they want?’

  ‘Because the matter, unfortunately, is not in the Church’s hands. There are lawyers and procedures, unfortunately they are already in place and active’

  ‘Yes, I see. If the Church sent people in to pull the place apart questions would get asked.’

  ‘Nothing could be properly done without attracting unwanted attention and enquiry. We need to be able to look thoroughly and without interference and then dispose of whatever is found, if anything is found, with the minimum of fuss.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Good. I hope you now have some sort of grasp of the seriousness of what you are doing.

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Then I will send for you when I decide what is the best way to proceed.’

  ‘You mean when you think it will be best to slip your woman in with her claim?’

  ‘That among other things, but as I have already said it has become difficult. After the assault on M. Joubert it is likely that the matter of the owner of the convent will be passed into other hands. When that happens I will need you in Paris and after your last visit that presents certain difficulties. Stay available and ready to move at short notice.’

  Jimmy stood up and waited but McBride ignored him, she was busy putting away the copy of the dossier so he left the office, went down in the lift and walked out into the sunshine. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to where he could pick up a bus which would take him to the nearest Metro station but he didn’t mind. The morning sun was pleasantly warm and it gave him time to think.

  She’d told him a lot, but had she told him all of it? She usually didn’t so she probably hadn’t, only what she wanted him to know to get the job done. So, what was the job? And he suddenly realised she hadn’t actually told him. Apart from all the kerfuffle about American business playing both sides during the war she hadn’t really told him anything. And even if all of it was true it was all ancient history now. And the Pope Pius XII stuff? No, it wasn’t right, it didn’t feel right.

  As Jimmy walked and thought he began getting a bad feeling about it all. McBride might be devious but she didn’t normally lie outright, just bent the truth to suit her own aims. But what were her aims? Planting her candidate on whoever was responsible for finding the Colmar heir? Or was it something else as well?

  He’d flown out of Munich to Rome late and after he’d arrived in Rome he’d only had time to grab a quick breakfast before setting off to meet McBride. He decided he was too tired to give it the kind of attention it needed so he walked on to the bus stop, caught a bus to the Metro, and went home. Once back in his flat he took a shower and made himself a cup of coffee. He wanted to think but he also wanted to sleep. He was caught between the two. He sat and tried to think but his brain kept closing down.

  When the phone woke him he didn’t know how long he’d been asleep in the chair, a few minutes or a couple of hours. He answered the phone and recognised the voice. It was a Monsignor that McBride used.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Mr Costello, I have some bad news. Professor McBride has been shot.’

  Jimmy sat up wide awake and the cup of cold coffee on the arm of his chair fell to the floor.

  ‘Dead?’

  ‘Not when she was in the ambulance but I’m afraid it was very serious.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Two men on a motorcycle as she came out of the office block. They were waiting for her.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘No. She is in surgery and then, if she survives, she will be in intensive care.’

  ‘Do you know what her chances are?’

  ‘The hospital say she is unlikely to live. One bullet nearly severed her left arm and they had to amputate above the elbow, a second grazed her heart. But she is a woman of great courage and faith, Mr Costello, great courage and faith. We must hope and pray for the best.’

  Jimmy swore quietly. His wife Bernie had been a woman of great courage and faith all her life, but he’d still had to sit at her beds
ide and watch her die.

  ‘Let me know if there’s any news.’

  ‘Of course, Mr Costello.’

  ‘And thanks.’

  Jimmy put the phone down.

  Christ, if she died where did that leave him?

  All of a sudden it had become life-threatening, only it was McBride’s life, not his, at least not yet. But it soon could be. Whoever was out there knew about him, had been waiting and watching in Paris. This had to be them again and if they’d made a try for McBride he could be next. He stood up and listened to the voice in his head drumming the same message over and over.

  Run, Jimmy, run fast, run far, and hide well.

  The voice was right, one down and one more to come if he wasn’t fast and clever.

  He grabbed what he needed, put it in his holdall, then left the apartment, went down into the street, and began walking quickly.

  The first church he came to was dark and empty. He went to the nearest statue, it looked like a Madonna and child.

  He grabbed a candle, lit it, and put it with some others. This time the words came quickly and the message was clear.

  ‘Look after her. It’s all down to you now.’ He left the church and headed for the Metro station. In his head his prayer continued. ‘If you’re there, God, bloody well get it done right this time. Don’t let her die.’

  Jimmy was running and McBride was dying or already dead but for Rome the late morning sun was warm and golden. It would soon be lunch time, time for a drink and a meal. Life was simple and straightforward, except for the crumpled man in a hurry that nobody noticed.

  Run, Jimmy, run far and hide well and hope that your message with the candle got through and there was somebody there to listen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The hotel was nothing special, clean, reasonably comfortable, but cheap and quiet because it was well away from the centre of Rome in the Quadraro district in the south-eastern suburbs.

  Jimmy had run fast but in the end he hadn’t run far. He’d caught the Metro and headed for Ciampino airport where the budget flights came and went. But once on the Metro he had changed his mind. He didn’t want to run. He’d done too much running and it had never solved anything or got him anywhere except where he was now. He had nowhere else to go so he got out at Porta Furba Station. He chose it because he knew the district slightly. He’d been there with a local detective inspector when on his first job for McBride a few years earlier. He found a hotel and booked in.