The Reich Device (3 page)

The approval strengthened Mayer’s resolve.

‘In that case, I will type up my notes into a formal manuscript.’

‘Of course Gustav… but keep it safe… keep it
very
safe.’ Einstein stared hard at his friend, and suddenly gripped his arm. ‘You
must
keep this safe.’ Einstein relaxed into a brief smile, easing his hold on Mayer’s arm.

‘I will guard it with my life.’ Mayer gazed back at his friend.

‘Now you’re being too serious.’ Einstein risked a smirk.

Mayer let the frown drift from his face.

The two men stood. Mayer clasped Einstein’s hand in a solemn but also strangely triumphant handshake. The idea was wonderful, but also potentially deadly.

‘Albert, what are the chances?… Do you think anyone else could work this out? You know… stumble on it by accident?’

‘No… not likely.’ Einstein shook his head. ‘It’s extremely improbable that anyone else would come up with the right sequence of logic by chance. No, this is a once-in-a-lifetime discovery.’

Mayer forced a smile, humbled.

‘… And it’s all yours. Yours alone, Gustav. Congratulations! This is of monumental importance.’ Einstein shook his hand firmly again.

The sudden scrape of chairs on the wooden floor sent heavy vibrations to the housekeeper’s ear – movement inside the study! Wearily, she rubbed her eyes. Had she fallen asleep? She wasn’t sure. Suddenly alert and breathing rapidly, she tried to move her limbs from the uncomfortable awkwardness of crouching outside the study door, but it was no good. Pins and needles flushed down each limb. Moving like a semi-anaesthetised manikin, her numbed limbs tottered down the stairs. A floorboard creaked under her weight. Perspiration erupted on to her brow and her breathing become more erratic. Anything was preferable to discovery and the wrath of her masters.

The bottom of the stairs didn’t come soon enough. Wincing at the pain, but with feeling returning to her legs, she crossed the lobby to the dining room door. She gingerly pushed the door open, and resolved to lurk in the dining room at the front of the house. It would be useful to hear the visitor leaving, and note their time of departure. Anyway, at least there was some hard information: the technical jargon, as well as the flow and tempo of the discussion. It would all make a good report. She was a conscientious little spy.

Voices emerged from the study, followed by footfalls on the stairs, and then the clunk of the front door latch. An adrenalin rush gave the housekeeper a newfound alertness as she peered through the curtains – yes, it was definitely Professor Mayer now outside on the doorstep. She noted the time and the direction – downhill – the Professor must be returning to his lodgings near the University. She waited a few more minutes, and when the coast was clear, headed for bed. This seemed far too important to wait for her weekly meeting at the Commandant’s office. She would report first thing in the morning.

Mayer hurried towards home, with his head down into the driving rain, lost in his thoughts. It would be light soon, and the authorities would ask questions. There was no explanation for being out at this hour. Fear took over, and utter loneliness. It was the way of things now, he had been alone for
so long
.

She had been so beautiful. A Polish girl with a clean white complexion and fiery red hair. Slim and athletic, she had a mind as sharp as a razor. An involuntary smile of happier times crossed his face. He could still see her now, working in the laboratory just after the Great War; but it was not to last. The Spanish influenza took her in 1919. Mayer flushed with a sudden bout of melancholy. It still hurt. The grief was undiminished after all these years, but that was to be expected. She was the one, the only one. Tears formed in his eyes.

There was only room for work and his students now. There was nothing else. When was the last time he had socialised? He couldn’t remember. He never went out; except for now.

Mayer snapped back to reality after subconsciously registering a familiar sight: his own street on the edge of the University campus. How had he got home so quickly without being stopped?

Suddenly, the clatter of a rubbish bin down the street shattered the silence. Mayer jumped around in startled terror.

A cat dived into the hedgerow with some easy pickings.

‘Relax you old fool,’ he muttered to himself.

He exhaled, pausing for a second, before glancing up and down the street. The coast was clear. He headed up the steps to the front door, and after fumbling with his keys, made it inside. He bolted and locked the door shut, and slumped with his back against the woodwork. He fought back tears. The tension of the day’s events had simply been too much. There would be more trouble to come. But for now, only sleep mattered. Mayer went up the stairs, and after carefully placing his notes in the top draw of his bedside table, collapsed into bed.

The grey man folded his binoculars away, placing them carefully into his coat pocket as the bedroom light went out. ‘Sleep tight Professor, your Guardian Angel is watching… ’

‘I
need a name. Give me a name now!’ Commandant Kessler grunted with exertion as he punched the prisoner in the face. The prisoner garbled an inaudible reply through snot, blood and broken teeth. Not good enough. ‘Come on, I don’t have all fucking day! Give me a name now!’ Kessler’s tall but muscular frame delivered another left hook.

This time the prisoner, and the chair he was tied to, toppled to the floor. ‘Fuck… ’ Kessler cursed as he bothered to drag the prisoner upright. ‘Now, how many times do I have to repeat myself?! Give me a name!’ Teeth ground together as the fist made contact with the prisoner’s jaw.

Kessler worked up the next blow, and was only just getting into his stride, when a knock on the cell door interrupted proceedings.

‘Commandant, forgive me, but… ’

‘What is it? Can’t you see I am busy?!’

It was his corporal from the office up stairs. ‘Forgive me sir, but there is a woman waiting for you. She says she has some vital new information… she’s one of your informants, sir.’ The corporal waited, hoping not to unsettle his master too much with his intrusion.

‘Fuck!’ Kessler kicked the prisoner, chair and all, on to the floor and paced urgently out of the prison cell.

‘This had better be good.’ He glanced daggers towards the corporal as they went briskly up the stairs towards the office.

The corporal swallowed hard and nodded.

He had good reason to worry. Commandant Kessler was not a man who took being displeased lightly. He was also worth keeping on-side for other reasons. Kessler was a man rising rapidly through the ranks of the Nazi Party. He had the ears of his commanders in Berlin, but that was no surprise; it was common knowledge that his father was a war hero. A man of legendary proportions. He had served during the Battle of Verdun, one of the bloodiest engagements of the Great War. Tens of thousands of men had died in the bloodbath; but not Kessler senior, who had led a successful counterattack, breaking the French lines. Rumour had it, that he had single-handedly taken a heavily defended machine gun post. Kessler senior had been decorated by the Kaiser himself. Kessler junior had a lot to live up to.

Kessler swept into his office and took up position behind the desk. He paused for half a minute, combing his jet black hair. It was good to keep the minions waiting.

‘Fräulein Hirsch to see you Commandant,’ explained the corporal.

‘Enter,’ commanded Kessler.

Einstein’s housekeeper moved briskly and business-like, coming to halt in front of the desk. Kessler deliberately ignored her, and carried on with some paperwork for another minute to illustrate his inconvenience to the unscheduled visitor.

‘What is it?’

‘Please, Commandant, forgive my intrusion,’ the housekeeper hovered, palms sweating. ‘I have a report to make.’ She went on to explain the meeting that Einstein had with Professor Mayer the night before.

‘I made these notes,’ she thrust out a hand holding the scrap of paper.

Kessler examined the note: interesting. Technical phrases, jargon – something to look into?

Carefully maintaining a neutral expression, Kessler replied. ‘Thank you. Please continue your vigilance Fräulein. The Party is grateful for your efforts. You may go.’ He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal, and the housekeeper left the room as briskly as she had arrived.

Kessler sat, drumming his fingers on the edge of the desk.

There was so much to do, and priority had to be given to the next rally. It was probable that the Führer himself would attend. The extra dignitaries and the crowds all added to the security headache. Kessler exhaled.

Still, it was curious about the Professors. Einstein had some international connections; not the sort of person you could lock up without explanation. However, Mayer was a different matter. He would be watched more closely, and it was time to increase security checks at the University. From now on, the sentries on all the routes into the University campus would be doubled. Anyone with the slightest errors on their identity papers, found wanting for any reason, would be arrested. After all, it was a justified precaution with the party leader due in the city, and the University was certainly a ‘risk area’ with all those visiting foreign intellectuals – damned troublemakers. A night in the cells would sort them out. There was always room for one more.

Kessler smiled to himself. There was still a name to get from the prisoner in the basement. The security preparations for the coming rally could wait a few more hours. He grabbed a fresh knuckle duster from the desk drawer and headed for the stairs.

The grey man shuddered off the cold, and repositioned the stock of the modified Mosin-Nagant Model 1891/30 sniper rifle into his shoulder. The barrel of the Russian weapon was heavy, but the new Zeiss telescopic sight made up for that. He had to admit, the Soviets were in the habit of evolving some pretty nice hardware. The weapon would leave no forensic trail given that half the Bolshevik Army, and the Germans, used the firearm.

He wiggled his toes to keep his circulation going. How long had he been lying here? Two hours, maybe three; and not very much to show for it so far. At least it wasn’t raining, but there was the cold wind gusting across the rooftop to contend with. Nonetheless, it was a good vantage point for observing the comings and goings at the local headquarters of the National Socialist Party.

The building seemed to double up as an administrative centre and a military command post for Leipzig, but that wasn’t so unusual for the Nazi Party. Flexing his fingers against the cold, the grey man adjusted the telescopic sight and zeroed in on the office window. The cross hairs came into focus on a slim, immaculately dressed German officer – a commandant from the insignia on his uniform. That had to be Kessler, and by all accounts, the information in the Leipzig file had indicated he was a hard bastard. Not one to be trifled with.

He adjusted telescopic site for windage and fine focus on the cross hairs, bringing Kessler’s forehead into sharp relief. He slid his finger under the trigger guard, gently increasing tension on the trigger mechanism. He held his breath, ready to take the shot.

At this range the weapon would blow his head clean off; and Kessler certainly deserved it. With one hand Kessler organised the legitimate security for visiting dignitaries, and with the other killed off enemies of the state. How very convenient.

The grey man moved the cross hairs on to Kessler’s left eye – a dead centre shot. He increased the tension on the trigger. Should he kill him now? Or was there some more intelligence to gather? His gut told him the latter, resisting the urge, he moved the scope.

A woman emerged into view, standing at the desk, looking subservient. Where had he seen her before? Then it came – Einstein’s house. She was the housekeeper! The telescopic sight worked over her body. She held out a piece of paper. Kessler took it. So, was she a willing informant? Or was there some coercion? Either was possible. Lips moved silently in the telescopic sight. The woman seemed agitated, and within a few minutes she walked briskly from the room.

The grey man moved the gun sight back to Kessler, who was leaning over a large paper chart on the desk, no – not a chart – but some kind of diagram or floor plan. It was no secret that Hitler would be in town, so perhaps this was the security plan for the stadium?

The grey man clicked a few notches on the telescopic sight, spreading his elbows some more for stability, then adjusted the fine focus. At this distance it was hard to read the papers on the desk. Definitely a floor plan though. The south and north entrances to the stadium were clear, a red pen marked the secure access area for the VIPs, and green crosses on the map seemed to mark the position of the sentry posts – what a gift! But should he call it in to London? The whole situation in Germany was about to boil over and here was a chance to pop the top brass; including Hitler himself.

The Nazi regime had ignored the Treaty of Versailles and re-occupied the strategically important Rhineland of Germany. This defiance of international law had gained popular support from the masses. Herr Hitler was in a strong position.

But one bullet could put a stop to all that.

Alas, he conceded that these were not his orders – just to observe, report back, and protect the life of one Professor Gustav Mayer at
any
cost. He could hardly do that by assassinating the leader of the Nazi Party.

What about Kessler? In this game you had the advantage if you could get inside the mind of your adversary, but what was Kessler
really
like? The files back in London told a familiar story. After graduation from the military academy, he joined the local Nazi Party and got involved in paramilitary activities.

Kessler had the opportunity to prove himself on the 9
^th
November 1923 when Hitler attempted to seize power by raiding the government buildings in Munich. The coup failed; but during the fighting Kessler had gallantly protected his leader. He was quickly promoted to a captain in the
Sturmabteilung
or stormtroopers, and after a couple of years was transferred to the new
Schutzstaffel
, the SS. When Hitler eventually came to power in January 1933, he remembered the loyalty of Kessler and promoted him to commandant. Kessler became a member of
Liebstrandarte Hitler
– the Führer’s personal bodyguard.