by Ward Wagher
“Herr Schneider seated himself at the back of the restaurant, facing the door. This is, of course, good tradecraft. It made it difficult to surveille him.”
“Right,” Rainer agreed. He wished Spayer would come to the point, but also knew the man could not be hurried.
“The team found positions where they could engage in some innocent activity and also remain observant of the target.”
“I understand,” Rainer said, gritting his teeth. This was getting unbearable.
“Shortly thereafter,” Spayer said, “target two entered the restaurant and sat down across the table from Schneider.”
“And does Target Two have a name?”
“Yes, Sir. It was Richerd Routh.”
Rainer only barely retained the non-expression on his face. Routh was a key member of his staff, and coordinated with Schloss's staff. Rainer now understood how Heydrich’s organization was always informed about the Reichschancellor’s activities.
“That is very interesting, Helmuth,” Rainer said. “Extremely interesting.”
“And did he share any information with Herr Schneider?”
“Only that the Reichschancellor would be visiting Rudersdorf this weekend.”
“A lot of pieces suddenly come together.”
“I thought you might think that,” Spayer said dryly. “Because of the importance of Herr Routh, I thought I should ask for your instructions.”
“Indeed,” Rainer replied. He stood up and fastened his gun belt. “I believe I need to take a personal interest in this case.”
“Of course, Herr Reichsprotektor.”
Rainer slipped on his hat and buttoned his tunic as he walked out of the office. Spayer followed in his wake, like a float behind a power boat. They took the elevator to the basement level of the SS headquarters, and then walked a long hallway to the detention rooms.
Rainer glanced through the one-way glass in the door of the first detention room. A very frightened-looking young man was manacled to a chair. Rainer stepped along to the second door, where the white-faced Routh was held.
“Have they talked?” Rainer asked Spayer.
“Interestingly, yes, Sir. Schneider claims his name is Maxwell Schmark. He said he agreed to meet with Routh for lunch, since they were friends.”
“Does the story hold up?” Rainer asked.
“No,” Spayer shook his head. “Routh confessed to passing information along to the Heydrich organization more than once.”
“You did well to bring these two in,” Rainer said.
“I have the paperwork ready to turn them over to the Polizei...”
Rainer held up a hand.
“Yes, Herr Reichsprotektor?”
“You will change the paperwork to indicate you discovered them as having passed as a result of lead poisoning.”
“But, I do not understand.”
“Wait at the end of the hall,” Rainer said.
Spayer nodded again, but said nothing. He retreated back the way they had come. Rainer opened the door to the second detention room and walked over to where he stood in front of the sweaty and shaking middle-aged man.
“What have you to say for yourself, Herr Routh?”
“I serve the Reich,” the man said in a quavering voice. “What will you do with me?”
“You are a brave man, Herr Routh,” Rainer said quietly. “Unfortunately, you have made some bad choices.”
“Ja, ja, I understand that.”
Rainer shook his head sadly. He quickly pulled his pistol and shot the man in the head. He then left the room and walked into the first detention room. Without saying anything, he walked over behind Schneider and shot him in the head.
Rainer left the detention room and walked down the hall to where Spayer waited. He handed his pistol to Spayer.
“Be so good as to have the pistol cleaned and reloaded for me. And see to changing the paperwork. Also, the detention rooms need to be cleaned.”
“At once, Herr Reichsprotektor.”
Rainer stepped into the elevator and rode back to his office.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
March 1, 1942; 4PM
Northern Germany
Schloss gazed out the side windows of the Mercedes as it negotiated the frozen road back to Berlin. Each curve brought a new winter vista. Northern Germany was a fairyland of powdery snow and crystalline ice. The winter covered the scars of battle and the failures of men. He wished it would also blank out the consuming hatred of Germany’s enemies.
Yet, it was now March, and the spring would be upon them in a few short weeks. A time of new growth and new hopes for the year. Heinrich Schloss wondered, once again, what the Alter-Schloss was doing. Had his double appeared in 1982 Berlin and been as bewildered as he was when he arrived in this place? And what had caused that spasm between worlds which brought him here?
His ponderings were without anguish or stress, for it had been a very relaxing weekend. He and Gisela had spent hours tramping through the snow and enjoying each other. The long, languid conversations in front of the evening fire insinuated the girl deeper into his heart, and he confessed to himself that he was happier and more fulfilled than any other time of his life. The remaining itch that he could not scratch was his inability to share with anyone the events that had brought him to this point. They would think him mad.
Frau Marsden prepared his favorites for the Sunday night supper. Peter and Renate arrived shortly after Schloss, and they enjoyed a family evening together. Schloss soaked up the love from the children and from his sister. Later in the evening Renate caught him. He had managed to separate himself from Gisela long enough to visit the toilet and his sister waited when he stepped out.
“It must have been a very good weekend, Hennie,” she said.
“How so?”
“I believe this is the most relaxed you have been in the past year. I have been worried about the stress you have subjected yourself to.”
“It was a very good weekend, Rennie. You are right. This is the most relaxed I have felt in ages.”
“Was there some magic ingredient or elixir you had with you?” she asked, her eyes dancing.
“Certainly,” he said. “The ingredients were long walks in the snow and deep conversation by the firelight. And they had their effect… as did Gisela.”
“And which of those had the most effect?” she asked.
Schloss raised his eyebrows, but did not respond directly. “Perhaps you and Peter should get away for a weekend, Rennie. Karl would be glad to arrange for your use of the cabin. It would do you good. In fact, Peter always looks guilty when he even takes a Sunday off. I would be happy to order him to do so.”
“And you have a wedding in two weeks. Now is not the time for me to be flitting about the countryside.”
“As we did.”
“And you needed it,” she said, poking him in the chest. “Tell me you do not feel rested.”
He chuckled. “I really do feel rested.”
“I am happy to see it,” she said. “And I am happy for you and Gisela. Still, it will be a relief to get the wedding out of the way. Maybe afterwards, Peter and I can get a weekend away from this madhouse.”
She stretched and kissed him on the cheek, then moved past him into the water closet. He briefly wondered that the woman who should have known him better than anyone was not as perceptive as Gisela. The flame-haired beauty could almost read his mind. At times, it frightened him.
He returned to the table, where Frau Marsden had set out coffee and the desert strudel. Peter was gently teasing Hans and Anna-Lisa. Schloss smiled at Gisela.
“A pleasant evening, Hennie” she said quietly.
“Indeed,” Schloss said. “I wish evenings like this would never end.”
She leaned over and slid her hand into his. When she was next to him, it seemed to ratchet his contentment up several notches. While he could never forget the Reichschancellor’s office downstairs, and the duties it entailed, evenings like this pushed
it into the background temporarily.
§ § §
March 2, 1942; 10AM
Office of the Reichschancellor
Reichschancellery
Berlin, Germany
General Heinz Guderian had taken pains with his appearance. This would be expected for any member of the Wehrmacht who was meeting the Reichschancellor, however it was at odds with a man who had the reputation of being a soldier’s soldier. He usually was in well-worn and scruffy uniforms. Not well liked by the Army brass, the rank and file idolized him.
Schloss studied the man as Willem guided him into the office. Guderian, or Fast Heinz as he was known, was not tall. Aside from the impeccable uniform, he resembled a farmer, or perhaps a mill worker. Yet he rivaled and possibly surpassed Rommel in his understanding of armored warfare. He also surpassed most of the other military brass in his fearless capability to challenge Germany’s leadership on its poor decisions. In Schloss’s other world, he had even confronted Hitler on several occasions. Schloss wondered how this meeting would proceed.
He marched across the room and stopped at attention across from Schloss’s desk. “Herr Reichschancellor, thank you for agreeing to see me.”
Schloss reached across the desk to shake his hand. “Please, have a seat, General. How may I help you today?”
“It is about my nephew, Fritz,” the general said. “I have exhausted all other avenues, and this is my last hope.”
“I am familiar with the situation,” Schloss said. “The Reichsmarshall initially briefed me on it.”
“Yes, yes. My nephew unfortunately has been the target of officers who are attempting to hide their own malfeasance. He explained it to me. I ask your help in getting things straightened out.”
“And what is your nephew’s explanation?”
Guderian looked uncomfortable. “He told me he had visited a French… lady of the night. She attempted to rob him and then pulled a knife when he resisted. In the melee, she was killed. He has been accused of murder. He is my sister’s only child and has always been a good boy.”
Schloss placed his elbows on the desk and folded his hands together to rest his chin. How do we define a good boy? How do I get this man to understand that his precious nephew is a monster?
Schloss continued to gaze at the other man, who grew increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke.
“You advised against the invasion of France and the low countries.”
“Yes, I felt it was unnecessarily risky.”
“But things turned out all right,” Schloss said.
“I was delighted to have been proven wrong.”
“You advised against Barbarossa.”
“We would have lost entire armies in that land.”
“You have had to deal with disciplinary issues during your career. How is this one different?” Schloss asked. “Other than the family relationship?”
“You remember the case of Major Kimmel?” Guderian asked.
Okay, Hennie, be careful here.
“Suppose you refresh my memory, General.”
“Surely you remember, Herr Reichschancellor. It was in all of the major newspapers.”
“Humor me, General.”
“Major Kimmel went home on leave. He discovered his wife was carrying on an affair with the owner of the local gasthaus. So, he murdered both of them, cut up their bodies and fed them to the swine. Because of the horrendous nature of the crime, I had to be involved.”
“And how did you uncover all of the information, Herr General?” Schloss asked quietly.
“I asked the feldgendarmerie to investigate. He actually gave them a confession. There were mitigating circumstances, however the nature of the crime pretty much made it a capital offense.”
“And the major in question is no longer with us.”
Guderian nodded. “He paid the ultimate price. It was sad. He was a promising young officer.”
“Are you aware, Herr General that I asked the Reichsprotektor to send a team to Lyons to investigate?”
“I was not.”
“As you know, Karl Rainer is a careful man and he is also very demanding of those who work for him.”
“I have heard such.”
“The report is here on my desk, Herr General. Corporal Fritz Guderian was working the docks in Lyons. They were loading refugees for Palestine. For whatever reason, the corporal slipped off down an alley. There he raped and murdered a four-year-old girl, Herr General.”
“That is the story that was manufactured,” the general said.
“You are correct in that the officers of the unit were out to get Corporal Guderian. You have many enemies in the Wehrmacht, Herr General.”
“Yes, yes, it is just as I said. They are trying to get to me through my nephew.”
“However, Herr General, your nephew was caught by his sergeant; not by an officer. We interviewed the sergeant carefully. Would you like to hear what your nephew told his sergeant?”
Guderian turned pale.
Schloss continued relentlessly. “He told the sergeant, It was just a Jew girl. They breed like rats anyway. We can hide the body and go about our business.”
“But, that is not what happened.”
Schloss slapped his hand down on the report. “It is what happened,” he shouted.
It grew quiet in the office.
Schloss continued softly. “I am as sorry as I can be, General. Nobody likes to discover they have a criminal in the family. But you must quit obstructing the trial. I am afraid your nephew will be facing justice, as well he should.”
Guderian stood up. “This is just unacceptable! I refuse to countenance this.”
“Sit down, General,” Schloss shouted again. “You will listen to me!”
Guderian’s mouth snapped shut and he dropped back into the chair.
“We have done everything we can to assure your nephew has been fairly represented. I have sent in people answerable only to the Reichsprotektor and myself. I charged them with finding the truth. Your nephew is guilty. There is no question about it. Now is the time for you to shut up and soldier. Do you understand?”
Guderian glared at Schloss for a full thirty seconds. Then he seemed to wilt. “Jawohl, Herr Reichschancellor, I understand. Thank you for your time.”
“Heinz,” Schloss said quietly.
The general looked up again.
“This is a very unfortunate turn of events. But, I need your skills in the Wehrmacht. You are an outstanding officer.”
“And what about my nephew?”
“Sadly, your nephew must face the consequences of his actions, as I have already told you. I’m sorry, Herr General.”
“Is there nothing you can do?” Guderian asked.
Schloss raised his hands, palms up. “What would you have me do, under the circumstances?”
“No, you are right. I knew I would have to face this since I first heard about it. Fritz has been trouble since he started walking and he has only gotten worse. My sister refuses to believe anything she is told about him. You have been very patient, Herr Reichschancellor, and I thank you.”
“Thank you for coming to see me, Herr General.”
After Guderian left, Schloss stared at his desk without seeing anything. I hope the general holds together. I didn’t lie to him. We need him badly.
He picked up his phone. “Willem, please connect me to the Reichsmarshall.”
A few moments later the phone rang. It was his secretary.
“Herr Reichschancellor, the Reichsmarshall is not in the office today.”
“Fine. Keep me posted on his return.”
And Schloss returned to the mountains of paperwork that consumed his days. He was the master of the German Reich, but he could not conquer the paper.
CHAPTER TWENTY
March 7, 1942; 2PM
Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada
“Very kind of you to meet with us, Mr. President,” Winston Churchill said.
“Prime Minister,” Henr
y Wallace returned the greeting.
Rather than mingling when the two groups walked into the room, each had kept to themselves. This seemed strange to the British, but then, they were dealing with a new president. Churchill had set out to find the measure of the man.
The meeting room supplied by the government provided a panoramic view of the late winter snows in the capital of Canada’s second smallest province. The room was carefully set up with a long table and places set for the American and British representatives along opposite sides. Churchill frowned at the arrangement. His previous meetings with the Americans involved sofas and easy chairs, along with the requisite cigars and brandy. President Wallace was apparently a different animal than Franklin Roosevelt. Churchill wondered if he was dealing with a Puritan.
Cordell Hull sat next to the President. Other places at the table were taken by State Department employees. Seeing the arrangement, Anthony Eden, the British foreign minister took the chair next to Churchill. Eden studied the make-up of the American delegation and recognized a couple of the State Department people who were reputed to be pro-German. He hoped Churchill recognized that as well.
“First item on the agenda,” Cordell Hull began, “is regarding the Lend-Lease program.”
Churchill managed to maintain his poker face, as he stiffened internally in shock. The meeting began without the usual diplomatic palaver that lubricated all such events. It seemed the Americans were preparing to play hard ball to use their vernacular.
“And we must express, once again, our thanks to your government and the American people for the generous aid you have given over the past few years,” Eden said. “It made all of the difference to us when our backs were to the wall.”
“Yes, well,” and Hull cleared his throat. “Times change and now it seems we have our backs to the wall. We propose to end the program in six months. We badly need the materiel and financing for our own war effort. It appears that the war between Germany and Britain is now limited to Africa and the Middle East. The Home Islands are not under threat.”
Churchill felt the color drain from his face, this in spite of his best efforts to remain impassive. Yet, he felt he must speak.
