'Is the Reichsfuhrer doubting General Schellenberg's loyalty?' Rossman asked.
'He has been of great service to the Reich,' Himmler said. 'Probably the most gifted officer to serve under my command, but I've always doubted his loyalty to the Party. But there is no problem here, Rossman. He is too useful for me to discard at the present time. We must put all our energies into the preparation for Belle lie while Schellenberg busies himself with the Steiner affair.' He turned to Berger. 'You'd better be off.'
'Reichsfuhrer.'
Berger clicked his heels and turned away. When he was halfway across the hall, Himmler called, 'Show me what you can do, SturmbannFuhrer.'
Berger had the flap of his holster open, turned with incredible speed, arm extended. There was a fresco of knights on the far wall done in medieval style in plaster. He fired three times very fast and three heads disintegrated. The shots echoed through the hall as he replaced his weapon.
'Excellent,' Himmler said.
Schellenberg was already on his way. He was good himself, maybe as good as Berger, but that wasn't the point. In the hall he retrieved his greatcoat and cap, was sitting in the rear of the Mercedes when Berger joined him five minutes later.
'Sorry if I've kept you waiting, General,' he said as he got in.
'No problem,' Schellenberg said and nodded to the driver who drove away. 'Smoke if you like.'
'No vices, I'm afraid,' Berger said.
'Really? Now that is interesting.' Schellenberg turned up the collar of his greatcoat and leaned back in the corner pulling the peak of his cap over his eyes. 'A long way to Berlin. I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some sleep.'
He did just that. Berger watched him for a while, and then he also pulled up the collar of his greatcoat and turned into the corner.
Schellenberg's office at Prinz Albrechtstrasse had a military camp bed in one corner for he often spent the night there. He was in the small bathroom adjacent to it shaving when his secretary, Use Huber, entered. She was forty-one at that time, already a war widow, a sensual, attractive woman in white blouse and black skirt. She had once been Heydrich's secretary and Schellenberg, to whom she was devoted, had inherited her.
'He's here,' she said.
'Rivera?' Schellenberg wiped soap from his face. 'And Canaris?'
'The Herr Admiral will be riding in the Tiergarten at ten o'clock as usual. Will you join him?'
Schellenberg frequently did, but when he went to the window and saw the powdering of snow in the streets he laughed. 'Not this morning, thank you, but I must see him.'
Dedicated as she was to Schellenberg's welfare, she had an instinct about things. She went and poured coffee from the pot on the tray she had put on his desk. 'Trouble, General?'
'In a way, my love.' He drank some of the coffee and smiled, that ruthless, dangerous smile of his that made the heart turn over in her. 'But don't worry. Nothing I can't handle. I'll fill you in on the details before I leave. I'm going to need your help with this one. Where's Berger, by the way?'
'Downstairs in the canteen, last I saw of him.'
'All right. I'll see Rivera now.'
She paused at the door and turned. 'He frightens me that one. Berger, I mean.'
Schellenberg went and put an arm around her. 'I told you not to worry. After all, when has the great Schellenberg ever failed to manage?'
His self-mockery, as always, made her laugh. He gave her a squeeze and she was out of the door smiling. Schellenberg buttoned his tunic and sat down. A moment later the door opened and Rivera came in.
He wore a dark brown suit, an overcoat over one arm, a small man, sallow skin, black hair carefully parted. Just now he looked decidedly anxious.
'You know who I am?' Schellenberg asked him.
'Of course, General. An honour to meet you.'
Schellenberg held up a piece of paper which was actually some stationery from the hotel he'd stayed at in Vienna the previous week. 'This message you received from your cousin, Vargas, at the London Embassy concerning the whereabouts of a certain Colonel Steiner. Have you discussed it with anyone?'
Rivera seemed genuinely shocked. 'Not a living soul, General. Before God I swear this.' He spread his hands dramatically. 'On my mother's life.'
'Oh, I don't think we need to bring her into it. She's quite comfortable in that little villa you bought her in San Carlos.' Rivera looked startled and Schellenberg said, 'You see, there is nothing about you I don't know. There is no place you could go where I couldn't reach you. Do you understand me?'
'Perfectly, General.' Rivera was sweating.
'You belong to the SD now and ReichsFuhrer Himmler, but it is me you answer to and no one else, so to start with: this message from your cousin in London. Why did you also send it to Admiral Can-aris?'
'My cousin's orders, General. In these matters there is always the question of payment and in this case...' He shrugged.
'He thought you might get paid twice?' Schellenberg nodded. It made sense and yet he had learned never to take anything for granted in this game. 'Tell me about your cousin.'
'What can I say that the General doesn't know? Jose's parents died in the influenza epidemic just after the First World War. My parents raised him. We were like brothers. Went to the University of Madrid together. Fought in the same regiment in the Civil War. He's one year older than me, thirty-three.'
'He isn't married, you are,' Schellenberg said. 'Does he have a girlfriend in London?'
Rivera spread his hands. 'As it happens, Jose's tastes do not run to women, General.'
'I see.' Schellenberg brooded about it for a moment. He had nothing against homosexuals, but such people were susceptible to blackmail and that was a weakness for anyone engaged in intelligence work. A point against Vargas, then.
'You know London?'
Rivera nodded. 'I served at the Embassy there with Jose in thirty-nine for one year. I left my wife in Madrid.'
'I know London also,' Schellenberg said. 'Tell me about his life. Does he live at the Embassy?'
'Officially he does, General, but for the purposes of his private life he has a small apartment, a flat as the English call it. He took a seven-year lease on the place while I was there so he must still have it.'
'Where would that be?'
'Stanley Mews, quite close to Westminster Abbey.'
'And convenient for the Houses of Parliament. A good address. I'm impressed.'
'Jose always did like the best.'
'Which must be paid for.' Schellenberg got up and went to the window. It was snowing lightly. He said, 'Is he reliable, this cousin of yours? Any question of him ever having had any dealings with our British friends?'
Rivera looked shocked again. 'General Schellenberg, I assure you, Jose, like me, is a good Fascist. We fought together with General Franco in the Civil War. We...'
'All right, I was just making the point. Now listen to me carefully. We may well decide to attempt to rescue Colonel Steiner.'
'From the Tower of London, senor?' Rivera's eyes bulged.
'In my opinion, they'll move him to some sort of safe house. May well have done so already. You will send a message to your cousin today asking for all possible information.'
'Of course, General.'
'Get on with it then.' As Rivera reached the door Schellenberg added, 'I need hardly say that if one word of this leaks out you will end up in the River Spree, my friend, and your cousin in the Thames. I have an extraordinarily long arm.'
'General, I beg of you.' Rivera started to protest again.
'Spare me all that stuff about what a good Fascist you are. Just think about how generous I'm going to be. A much sounder basis for our relationship.'
Rivera departed and Schellenberg phoned down for his car, pulled on his overcoat and went out.
Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was fifty-six. A U-boat captain of distinction in the First World War, he had headed the Abwehr since 1935 and despite being a loyal German had always been unhappy with National Socialism. Although he was opposed to any plan to assassinate Hitler, he had been involved with the German resistance movement for some years, treading a dangerous path that was eventually to lead to his downfall and death.
That morning, as he galloped along the ride between the trees in the Tiergarten, his horse's hooves kicked up the powdered snow rilling him with a fierce joy. The two dachshunds which accompanied him everywhere, followed with surprising speed. He saw Schellenberg standing beside his Mercedes, waved and turned towards him.
'Good morning, Walter. You should be with me.'
'Not this morning,' Schellenberg told him. Tm off on my travels again.'
Canaris dismounted and Schellenberg's driver held the horse's reins. Canaris offered Schellenberg a cigarette and they went and leaned on a parapet overlooking the lake.
'Anywhere interesting?' Canaris asked.
'No, just routine,' Schellenberg said.
'Come on, Walter, out with it. There's something on your mind.'
'All right. The Operation Eagle affair.'
'Nothing to do with me,' Canaris told him. 'The Fuhrer came up with the idea. What nonsense! Kill Churchill when we've already lost the war.'
'I wish you wouldn't say that sort of thing out loud,' Schellenberg said gently.
Canaris ignored him. T was ordered to prepare a feasibility study. I knew the Fuhrer would forget it within a matter of days and he did, only Himmler didn't. Wanted to make life disagreeable for me as usual. Went behind my back, suborned Max Radl, one of my most trusted aides. And the whole thing turned out to be the shambles I knew it would.'
'Of course Steiner almost pulled it off,' Schellenberg said.
'Pulled what off? Come off it, Walter, I'm not denying Steiner's audacity and bravery, but the man they were after wasn't even Churchill. Would have been quite something if they'd brought him back. The look on Himmler's face would have been a joy to see.'
'And now we hear that Steiner didn't die,' Schellenberg said. 'That they have him in the Tower of London.'
'Ah, so Rivera has passed on his dear cousin's message to the ReichsFuhrer also?' Canaris smiled cynically. 'Doubling up their reward as usual.'
'What do you think the British will do?'
'With Steiner? Lock him up tight until the end of the war like Hess, only they'll keep quiet about it. Wouldn't look too good, just as it wouldn't look too good to the Fuhrer if the facts came to his attention.'
'Do you think they're likely to?' Schellenberg asked.
Canaris laughed out loud. 'You mean from me? So that's what all this is about? No, Walter, I'm in enough trouble these days without looking for more.
You can tell the ReichsFuhrer that I'll keep quiet if he will.'
They started to walk back to the Mercedes. Schellenberg said, 'I suppose he's to be trusted, this Vargas? We can believe him?'
Canaris took the point seriously. 'I'm the first to admit our operations in England have gone badly. The British secret service came up with a stroke of some genius when they stopped having our operatives shot when they caught them and simply turned them into double agents.'
'And Vargas?'
'One can never be sure, but I don't think so. His position at the Spanish Embassy, the fact that he has only worked occasionally and as a freelance. No contacts with any other agents in England, you see.* They had reached the car. He smiled, 'Anything else?'
Schellenberg couldn't help saying it, he liked the man so much. 'As you well know, there was another attempt on the Fuhrer's life at Rastenburg. As it happened, the bombs the young officer involved was carrying, went off prematurely.'
'Very careless of him. What's your point, Walter?'
'Take care, for God's sake. These are dangerous times.'
'Walter. I have never condoned the idea of assassinating the Fuhrer.' The Admiral climbed back into the saddle and gathered his reins. 'However desirable that possibility may seem to some people, and shall I tell you why, Walter?'
Tm sure you're going to.'
'Stalingrad, thanks to the Fuhrer's stupidity, lost us more than three hundred thousand dead. Ninety-one thousand taken prisoner including twenty-four generals. The greatest defeat we've ever known. One balls-up after another, thanks to the Fuhrer.' He laughed harshly. 'Don't you realize the truth of it, my friend? His continued existence actually shortens the war for us.'
He put his spurs to his horse, the dachshunds yapping at his heels, and galloped into the trees.
