The Night of the Generals (38 page)

"To train a man in blind obedience is tantamount to fostering stupidity. It may be the most convenient form of man-management, but it has nothing whatsoever to do with leadership. An attempt to inculcate culture and knowledge, on the other hand, presupposes culture and knowledge on the part of the teacher. Building up an army must be a mental process, not a piece of routine planning. An army should not be in the hands of adroit power politicians but in those of equally shrewd but responsible men.

"If the course of history conforms to any so-called historical rules, then we have reached the end of the road. If it means learning and experience, then we must finally acknowledge the necessity--the vital necessity--or making a radical break with the past. As long as the soldier is only a fighter, a warrior, a recipient of orders, a gunman and a potential murderer, he will always be at the mercy of bloodthirsty and unscrupulous war-mongers..."

These remarks had been heavily deleted in red pencil. The same pencil had written in the margin: "Too late!" but the exclamation mark after the words had been replaced by a mark of interrogation.

Extracts from a letter written by Frau Wilhelmine von Seydlitz-Gabler to her sister-in-law, whose husband, Frau Wilhelmine's brother, was head of a government department: "... I'm sure you still remember General Tanz. I told you so much about him. You know I never enthuse about people, but I've always had a soft spot for General Tanz. He's a man of action--perhaps the last of his kind. If only he would take Ulrike off my hands. I'm so worried about her.

"... Fate sent General Tanz to the East. He made every effort to do his duty even there, and he succeeded. What a price he paid, though! You can see it in his face.

"... He has boundless faith in Herbert--and in me as well. If ever a man followed the dictates of his conscience, it is he. Do tell Adalbert about him. Something definite must be done. It's none of my affair, but when I think what those Russians have done..."

Verbatim notes of a telephone conversation between Detective-Sergeant Hornträger of Dresden: Liebig: "I've come across an interesting memo in my files--something of yours. I gather you found some witnesses who saw a saloon car parked in a side street near the scene of the crime."

Hornträger: "That's right, sir. It was there for some time."

Liebig: "Well, did you follow the information up?"

Hornträger: "Of course--as far as it seemed necessary. The driver was a chap called Wyzolla--a sergeant in the National People's Army."

Liebig: "Go on."

Hornträger: "Well, nothing came of it--at least, nothing that seemed to have any bearing on the case. I naturally made the usual routine inquiries, discreetly, of course. His superiors had nothing but good to say about him. They gave him an excellent report. He turned out to be the G.O.C.'s personal driver."

Liebig: "Damnation! What's the G.O.C.'s name?"

Hornträger: "Tanz."

Liebig: "That settles it. I want you to interrogate Wyzolla at once--no holds barred, mind you. Squeeze him like a lemon and don't worry about the consequences. Keep a mobile squad on call and 'phone me as soon as you've got something to report. I'll wait for your call here."

From the memoirs of General von Seydlitz-Gabler. The following passage is taken from a chapter entitled "The Path of Duty": "There were certain problems which I, personally, never evaded. I say this not out of vanity but as a matter of plain fact. I always strove to be a father to my men and never contemplated surrendering to Corporal Hitler. In that way, I not only helped my men to lead a comparatively worthy existence but also managed to protect many of them from the more unpleasant aspects of our situation. By refusing to desert my post I was serving the future of Germany.

"Similar, though not identical in every respect, was the position in which one of my highly esteemed and often-decorated brother officers, General Tanz, found himself after the Second World War. Whatever he did, his thoughts were centred upon Germany, upon Germany as a whole, upon the German as a soldier and an individual, upon the need to safeguard the achievements of the Western world..."

Verbatim report of a further telephone conversation between Detective-Sergeant Hornträger of Dresden and Detective-Inspector Liebig, temporarily in East Berlin: Hornträger: "I tried to get hold of Wyzolla, as you requested, but it proved to be impossible. Sergeant Wyzolla is away on an official trip at the moment. He's escorting General Tanz to Berlin. Tanz's chief staff officer told me that he's attending a conference at the Ministry of Defence, but that's all I could get out of him. He left at about two o'clock yesterday afternoon and they don't know when he'll be back."

Liebig: "Damn and blast!"

4

Rainer Hartmann opened his eyes, blinking sleepily. His bedroom curtains were drawn, but the subdued afternoon light hurt his eyes. He was lying fully clothed on his bed in the Pension Phoenix. It might have been minutes or hours since he dozed off--he didn't know. Something seemed to be groping for him, oppressing him, enveloping him. He couldn't identify it, but it was there. Shaking off his lethargy With an effort, he sat up abruptly.

A squat, dimly defined figure was standing at the foot of his bed. It looked familiar, even in the half-light "So it's you!" Hartmann grunted.

Prévert pulled up a chair and sat down. "My dear Hartmann, don't pretend you're surprised to see me."

Hartmann leant back against the bed-head, almost as if he were flinching away. "Considering what's happened to me in the past few days, I should have guessed that you were behind it all. I just couldn't bring myself to believe you were capable of such a dirty trick."

"It's part of my job," said Prévert. "How do you imagine I could deal with unscrupulous individuals effectively if I were a mass of scruples myself?"

"What do you want?"

"Why ask a question you know the answer to--subconsciously, anyway. All right, if I must be explicit: it's time."

"I suppose you're waiting for me to say 'Time for what?' Well, I won't. I just don't care. The only thing that matters to me is that you've seen fit to take advantage of a number of decent people, including our mutual friends in Antibes, my mother and Ulrike."

Prévert settled himself comfortably on the hard wooden chair. "My dear Hartmann, that's what friends are for. I'll give you some good advice: don't underestimate a mother's unselfishness--and as far as Ulrike is concerned, I can only congratulate you. That girl has the sort of courage most men only dream of."

"Do you mean Ulrike's in on this, too? Do you mean she's playing your game--letting herself be used for the sake of something she doesn't understand?"

"My dear boy," Prévert said patiently, "that remarkable young lady of yours immediately grasped what it has taken me weeks and you years to realize: the past cannot be dismissed; it has to be overcome. A man can't always do that on his own. He needs people to help him--in your case, Ulrike and--please believe me--myself."

Hartmann hitched up his socks, straightened his trousers and buttoned his shirt--all mechanical acts designed to gain time.

"You're welcome to go on living as you have been doing--if that's what you really want. There's a 'plane leaving for Nice via Munich and Geneva in just over an hour's time. You can catch it comfortably." Prévert spoke like a ticket-clerk giving information. "My car's waiting outside. You only have to say the word and you'll never see me again, or Berlin--or Ulrike, probably."

"Or General Tanz either, I suppose?"

Prévert chuckled gleefully. "He's in the bag," he said. "I only have to pull the string, but I can't do it unless you help me."

"And what's likely to happen if I do?"

"A lot of things," Prévert conceded. "Loaded pistols sometimes go off and typewriters can be just as dangerous in their own way. Wherever there's power there are men who abuse it. Human beings are the most unreliable creatures in the world. For all that, there are such things as friends."

"And are you one, Prévert?"

"Where my friendship for you is concerned, all I can say is--try me."

Hartmann drew a deep breath. "All right. Maybe I've nothing more to lose. If I'm wrong, at least I'll know how much I did have."

"How I envy you," Prévert said softly, "and how well I understand you. Life has dealt you one slap in the face after another, but you still cling to your faith in human nature. You've lost nearly everything that makes a normal person's life bearable--and yet, when I claim to be your friend, you don't hesitate to return the favour. Ah, my dear boy, what have I done to deserve this moral incubus? Fundamentally, even I believe in the existence of goodness. How do you account for that?"

Frau Wilhelmine was making the necessary preparations for the reception in honour of General Tanz, aided by Wyzolla, who had been made available to her for the purpose by Tanz himself. Wyzolla had proved an able assistant, instantly carrying out anything that sounded remotely like an order. Frau Wilhelmine watched him with a tinge of nostalgia. The dear dead days were not so dead after all.

"You've been extremely helpful," she told him.

"Thank you, ma'am," Wyzolla replied with ingenuous self-assurance. "I try to be."

The hotel management had reserved the so-called "Green Salon"--also known as the "Hunting Room"--for the von Seydlitz-Gablers' reception. Frau Wilhelmine checked the arrangements in person and then telephoned Kahlenberge. He seemed delighted, and promised to come, adding: "I'd very much like to bring a friend of mine--a Frenchman."

"Is he an influential person?"

"Definitely," Kahlenberge assured her brightly. "You might describe my friend Prévert as a power behind the throne. He can make careers and break them. Given the right combination of circumstances, even the President of France would find it hard to evade his clutches."

"In that case, bring him by all means." Frau Wilhelmine sounded impressed.

Her next victim was a junior minister who happened to be visiting Berlin. Being a man who accepted all invitations on principle, he proved easy meat, as did a visiting diplomat from the Benelux countries. The latter was reputed to be a very minor force in the Council of Europe, but Frau Wilhelmine threw him into the pot for good measure. His function would be mainly decorative.

The next name on her list was the managing director of a famous electrical engineering firm. After putting up a brief but fruitless struggle, he weakened when Kahlenberge's name was mentioned, reflecting that Kahlenberge's firm manufactured special vehicles for transporting turbines and marine cable.

Frau Wilhelmine then proceeded to rope in a member of the Berlin Senate, who was noted for his vast network of contacts. He was also noted for his slightly wry sense of humour, which he took care to display when accepting her invitation. "I shall be delighted to come, dear lady, and so will my latest wife."

The last remark drew Frau Wilhelmine's attention to a problem of secondary but undeniable importance: the so-called gentler sex. Since no great reliance could be placed on Ulrike and the Senator's "latest wife" was an unknown quantity, she would have to hunt up two or three females, preferably attractive.

The appropriate source of supply in this case could be defined by the collective term "show business" in its widest sense, i. e., television, radio and films. Within a few minutes Frau Wilhelmine had secured acceptances from a much-misunderstood film actress of Scandinavian origin, an uncommonly attractive "pop." singer and a junior woman announcer from the local television station.

While Frau Wilhelmine was thus engaged, Wyzolla had been polishing glasses with the concentration which he would have devoted to cleaning rifle ammunition. It was one of Tanz's axioms that nothing should ever surprise a soldier, and Wyzolla's attitude conformed to it perfectly. Hence, he remained utterly unimpressed when a page appeared in the Green Salon and sidled up to him.

"There are two gentlemen downstairs."

"Well?" Wyzolla shrugged and resumed his glass-polishing. "There may be three or four, for all I care."

"They want a word with you," the page persisted in a whisper.

"Maybe," said Wyzolla, "but I don't want a word with them. Can't you see I'm busy?"

He ignored the page, who retreated in some confusion. Frau Wilhelmine crossed out some entries on her notepad and made some more. The page reappeared.

"The two gentlemen are still waiting in the hall. They say it's important."

"Not to me it isn't," Wyzolla said laconically.

"They say they only want some information."

"Can't give them any," said Wyzolla. "Not competent to. Don't bother me. Got things to do."

Prévert, Hartmann and Ulrike were sitting in a café in the Nürnberger Strasse.

"Don't worry, Rainer," said Ulrike, "I know Monsieur Prévert won't let us down." She smiled at Prévert. "General Tanz has turned up already--with an escort, as usual."

"An escort?" asked Prévert, without betraying undue interest.

"A sort of body-guard, I suppose. A tough young man who doesn't say much--I saw him earlier on when I visited my mother. She's making arrangements for the party and he's helping her. Tanz generously lent him to her for the occasion."

"What's the youngster's name?" asked Prévert.

"Wyzolla."

Prévert leant back in his chair contentedly. "Excellent," he said. "Tell me more."

Ulrike ran through the list of invitations. "Mother had put a note beside Kahlenberge's name: 'plus French guest.' Is that you, Monsieur Prévert?"

"Yes, I'm a guest of a guest, and if Kahlenberge can invite someone I don't see why you shouldn't."

"In that case, my guest's name is Rainer Hartmann."

"Clever girl--that's what I hoped you were going to say."

"I can't ask Ulrike to do that," Hartmann said promptly.

"My dear boy," said Prévert, "what do you mean? The fur's going to fly tonight anyway. We needn't worry about a little subterfuge like that."

"I've remembered something else," Ulrike said. "While I was with Mother she invented an errand for Wyzolla to get him out of the room. While he was gone she 'phoned reception and asked for more details about the two men who had asked to speak to him."