The Swiss Spy (25 page)

‘How often do you go to Berlin?’

‘Perhaps every other month.’

‘And other Bank Leu officials, how often do they go?’

‘Hard to say exactly, but on a very regular basis. Look,
the Reichsbank is one of our most important clients, but it’s a very sensitive
relationship. The money they’re placing with us comes from sources that require
utmost discretion on our part.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘The Nazis have confiscated millions of Reichsmarks
from Jews and plundered money from the countries they’ve occupied. They need to
move that money around; so much of it comes to banks like ours to be converted
into Swiss Francs, which is probably the safest currency in the world at the
moment. They’re also sending us a lot of gold, not just us – all the Swiss
banks. The business we get from Germany is extremely profitable, so we prefer
to deal with the Reichsbank in person. We ask very few questions and we leave
nothing to chance.’

‘Do you send couriers to Germany?’

‘Of course. Every week, if not more frequently. Documents
need to be signed, letters need to be delivered. Couriers are a very important
part of our relationship with them.’

‘And these couriers are…?’

‘Employees of Bank Leu or people who do this on a
regular basis – people we know and trust.’

Edgar was thinking and looking around the table. His
eyes fell on Henry, and he smiled while addressing the Swiss. ‘Tell me Herr
Hedinger, do you have the authority to decide who can be a courier on your
behalf?’

‘Yes, in fact only in November I used my own
brother-in-law.’

‘I see.’ Edgar was still looking directly at Henry
as he spoke. Henry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. ‘So Henry here could
become one of your couriers?’

‘I’m not sure, maybe he…’

‘You don’t need to worry. Herr Hesse is a Swiss
citizen and a regular visitor to Germany himself. I have no doubt he’d be a
most capable courier on behalf of Bank Leu.’

***

Michael
Hedinger left the apartment at 6.30
. Before he went, Edgar pressed him on how soon he could
arrange Henry’s accreditation.

‘It’s now Friday evening, so
obviously I can’t do anything before Monday. It’ll take me a few days from
then. We have a procedure at the bank, you see. Fortunately I’m in a position
to organise my own couriers, but the paperwork has to be done properly,
otherwise we’ll arouse suspicion. If Herr Hesse can give me his passport now, that’ll
speed things up. Also, remember I’ll need to sort out paperwork for Alfred. That
won’t be easy.’

Edgar nodded at Henry, who looked as shocked as he
had done when he first heard about the plans for his trip to Berlin. He removed
his passport from his jacket pocket and handed it over to Hedinger.

‘How soon then?’

‘By the end of next week. I’m sure I can have it
sorted by then.’

‘End of the week! I thought it could be done in a
day or two.’

The Swiss shook his head vigorously. ‘No, no, no – I
told you, we have our procedures. I need to fill in the form, send it to the
correct department, they need to process it, then the form has to be
counter-signed by a director. Once that’s all done, I need to arrange Herr
Hesse’s registration as an official courier of Bank Leu with the German
consulate here in Zürich. I can assure you it’ll take a week. Hopefully by next
Friday morning it’ll be sorted.’

They agreed they would meet again at the apartment
the following Friday lunchtime. As well as Henry’s accreditation, Hedinger
would bring along documents for him to take to Bank Leu’s clients in Berlin. They
waited for Michael Hedinger to leave the apartment and all three of them stood
at the window watching him cross Basteiplatz.

‘I thought that went rather well Edgar. Good work.’

‘Thank you Basil. This scheme of his and Reinhart
really is most helpful. I was able to tell him that unless he fully co-operated
with us, we may be obliged to inform the Swiss authorities. It means that we have
him over a barrel. So, Henry, you’re going to Berlin. Looking forward to it I
hope?’

Henry had poured himself a glass of whisky that he
drank in one go. ‘It’s madness: you seriously want me to go to Berlin
pretending to be a courier for a Swiss Bank then return accompanied by an 11-year-old
half-Jewish boy? It’ll never work.’

‘Why shouldn’t it? Your Swiss identity is perfectly
genuine and your visit to Stuttgart last year would’ve been in order as far as
the Germans are concerned. After all, they’ve no idea you went to Essen. If you
get questioned, you simply say you now have a job as a courier for a bank.’

‘And the boy?’

‘We’ll see what paperwork Hedinger comes up with,
but it’s in his interests for it to be good.’

‘It’ll have to be more than good, Edgar. I’m not
sure whether you’re aware of it, but the Swiss are doing their level best to
stop Jews crossing the border from Germany. They’ll be looking out for the
likes of him.’

‘Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you Henry. But
they’ll not be looking out for the likes of you, will they? And the fact he’s
with you, in whatever capacity… well that ought to ensure a safe passage. Anyway,
that’s only half of the story.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Obviously we didn’t want to say too much in front
of Herr Hedinger, but going to Berlin and coming back with the boy is only half
your mission. Once the boy is safely in Zürich, Herr Hedinger will send a coded
message to Gunter Reinhart. Herr Reinhart has an extremely important document that
he’ll hand over to us once he knows his son is safe. It’s a document that could
determine the future course of the war, so it’s vital it’s brought out of
Germany as soon as possible.’

‘How’s it going to be brought out, Edgar?’

‘By you, Henry!’

***

After
the meeting in the apartment on the Basteiplatz, Henry was instructed to return
to Geneva for a few days while Michael Hedinger sorted out all the paperwork.

‘Basil will come and collect you on the Thursday. Just
act normally until then,’ had been Edgar’s advice.

As soon as Henry arrived at Gare Cornavin on the
Saturday he walked to a phone booth in a quiet area at the back of the station.
The call was brief and, as a result of it, he found himself on the Monday
evening in the private room at the back of the Armenian restaurant in
Grand-Lancy where Viktor had first taken him in 1931.

‘So, Edgar himself was in Zürich, was he
synok
?’
Viktor sounded incredulous, so much so he had poured himself another glass of
something that to Henry tasted like liquorice-flavoured acid. ‘I don’t suppose
he told you how he got to Switzerland?’

Henry shook his head. ‘I presume he came on some
roundabout route.’

‘I’m not interested in presumptions,
synok
. I’m
interested in facts. It’s quite a feat to travel from England to Switzerland
these days, so it was obviously by a roundabout route: he was hardly going to
fly direct, was he? I’d be curious to know what that route is. You know, it
would be a pleasure to meet your Captain Edgar. I think we’d have much in
common, despite everything. Tell me Henry, this must be important if Edgar
himself has come to Switzerland.’

 ‘I have to go to Berlin next week. I’ll be
using my own identity and acting as a courier for Bank Leu. I’ve to bring a boy
back from Berlin, a Jew, or a half-Jew to be precise. Once I deliver the boy to
Zürich I’m supposed to return to Berlin, where I’ll be given a document to
bring back to Switzerland.’

‘That’s it?’

Henry laughed. ‘That’s it? Surely, smuggling a
Jew out of Germany then returning to collect a document is enough isn’t it?’

‘What I meant was whether you can tell me any more.’

‘Edgar said the document is so important it
could decide the future course of the war. I asked him what he meant and he was
reluctant to tell me at first, but I told him if I was going to put my life on
the line by going into Berlin twice then I had a right to know. So he told me it’s
a document from the very top of the Reich – those were his words – about a
proposed German invasion of the Soviet Union.’

Viktor had removed a pencil from his top pocket
and had been in the process of sharpening it when Henry said this. He stopped,
the knife poised in mid-air, pointing towards Henry.

‘Say that again.’

‘The document is to do with a proposed German
invasion of the Soviet Union.’

Henry could have sworn the deep lines on the
Russian’s face grew as he took in what he’d just been told.

‘Edgar told you this?’

‘Yes: he seemed to regret having told me as
soon as he’d done so, but I was quite persuasive, don’t you think?’

‘When you return from Berlin the second time –
with the document, that is – did he say where you go?’

‘Zürich, because that’s where I’m supposed to
be based: it would look suspicious to Germans if I went elsewhere in Switzerland.
However, once I get to Zürich, I’m to hand the routine bank papers over to the
contact at Bank Leu then head straight to Bern to give the document to Edgar.’

Viktor looked worried, lowering his head in
thought then looking up to the ceiling for inspiration.

‘Plans for a German invasion of the Soviet
Union, you say?’

Henry nodded.

‘You don’t know what day you will be back in Zürich
with the document, do you
synok
?’

‘No. Edgar said that all being well I go on the
first trip to Berlin a week today, which I think is the 24th. Depending on how
things go, I’ll probably be back there the following Monday, which would be 3rd
March, I suppose. So I guess I’ll be back in Zürich sometime that week. Maybe
the Wednesday: the sooner the better.’

‘We’ll be waiting in Zürich for you: don’t head
to Bern until we’ve made contact with you. Do you understand?’

‘Of course. But how will you know when I’m
there? Edgar says I’m not to hang around in Zürich: I’m to go from the station
to Bank Leu, hand over the bank’s papers then go straight back to the station
and travel to Bern.’

Viktor removed his heavy coat and paced around
the room. From an inside jacket pocket he took out a small notebook and leafed
through it. When he found what he was looked for he wrote on a piece of paper,
which he then handed to Henry.

‘
Here, memorise this number. When
you arrive back in Zürich, ring it and say Peter is coming round for dinner:
that is all. Peter is coming round for dinner. They’ll reply by asking if you’re
bringing wine with you. If you say yes, we’ll know you have the document. We’ll
meet you at Zürich Hauptbahnhof exactly one hour after the phone call, you
understand?’

***

The
journey to Berlin began in Zürich, in the borrowed apartment above the hardware
shop on Basteiplatz. Michael Hedinger arrived a shade after a quarter past one
on the Friday, breathless and busily explaining how he had been waiting on one
extra document.

‘I have to be back at my office by two o’clock for a
meeting. I have everything here.’

From his brown leather briefcase Hedinger removed a
number of items, which he placed neatly in front of him on the table. He took
Henri Hesse’s Swiss passport from the top of the pile and handed it to him.

‘All is in order, Herr Hesse. Thanks to our
excellent relationship with the German consulate here in Zürich your passport
now allows you to travel freely between Switzerland and Germany a maximum of
six times over the next six months – until 20th August to be precise. That is a
routine arrangement for our couriers.’

Edgar and Remington-Barber both studied the visa,
emblazoned with a swastika and a rampant eagle, and made approving noises.

‘And here are the documents you’re carrying from
Bank Leu to the Reichsbank in Berlin, for the attention of Herr Reinhart: they
are, of course, the purpose of your trip as far as the German authorities are
concerned. You’ll see they’re all in sealed envelopes. I’d ask that they remain
that way until they’re handed over. In this envelope…’ he passed a long white
envelope with the bank’s crest to Henry, ‘is your letter of accreditation from
the bank and here are your rail tickets from Zürich to Berlin: you change at
Stuttgart. It’s a long journey, but you’ll travel first-class which is very
tolerable. I’ve taken the liberty of booking you on the train that departs Zürich
at six o’clock on Monday morning. You should be in Berlin by six o’clock that
evening.’

Another envelope was handed to Henry.

‘In Berlin you’ll stay at the Kaiserhof: our
couriers either stay there or at the Excelsior on Askanischer Platz, but the
Kaiserhof is rather charming and is slightly closer to the centre. It’s
certainly more discreet than the Adlon: everyone stays at the Adlon, it is not
private enough I think – too many journalists and possibly spies. Here’s the
letter of confirmation from the Kaiserhof. The bill will be settled directly by
the bank, you don’t need to worry about that. Your room will be en-suite.’

Henry checked the contents of the envelope.

‘Very efficient, Herr Hedinger,’ said Edgar. ‘I
trust you’ve addressed the somewhat more complicated issue of young Alfred?’

Hedinger nodded. ‘I’m proposing he travels under the
identity of my own son, Andreas.’

The banker pulled a large white handkerchief from a
pocket and used it to wipe his forehead. He hesitated a while before he spoke
again. ‘I have to be honest with you, this has been most difficult. I’ve had
sleepless nights over it. I’ve never met Alfred but Gunter has shown me
photographs of him. Alfred is 11 or 12. My own son, Andreas, is ten, but is
tall for his age. I wouldn’t say Andreas and Alfred look alike, but I think
with a bit of imagination, you could ensure that at the very least they don’t
look too different, if you see what I mean. Here’s his passport.’

The three men studied the passport photo of Andreas
Hedinger. His black hair was straight and had a distinctive parting low down on
the left side. He wore a pair of round, wire-framed glasses.

‘Here are the very glasses Andreas is wearing in
that picture.’ Hedinger brought a pair of spectacles out of his briefcase. ‘We
bought him a brand-new pair yesterday. I think if you make sure Alfred’s hair
is like Andreas’s and he wears these glasses, then you have a chance.’

‘Have you told your wife about this?’

‘I had to. If this works, we’ll need to keep Andreas
off school until Alfred arrives in Zürich. Also, I’ve had to tell her about
Alfred: he’ll be coming to stay with us, after all.’

‘What does she think of it?’

‘Fortunately, Helga is braver than me. She’s a very
devout woman and believes this is her Christian duty. As long as there’s no
danger to Andreas, then she’ll go along with it.’

‘That’s all very well, but why on earth would
Andreas be in Berlin – and with me?’ Henry was holding the boy’s passport. ‘What
am I to say when I’m asked what I’m doing in Berlin with the son of my boss at
Bank Leu? And what about how he got there – won’t they spot he didn’t come into
Germany with me?’ Henry sounded annoyed.

‘Turn to the third page of the passport please,’
said Hedinger. ‘This is where my relationship with the passport clerk at the
German consulate paid off. I asked him to stamp the passport showing that
Andreas entered Germany this coming Monday – the 24th. I explained this was a
treat for Andreas. As ever, he was most obliging: given the way the bank looks after
him, he ought to be. In this envelope is the train ticket for Alfred to use
from Berlin to Zürich. It’s a return, showing the outward part of the journey –
from Zürich to Berlin – was on Monday 24
^th
February. There’s no
reason why the German border guards should question this and the Swiss ought
not to be difficult about allowing a Swiss boy to re-enter his country.’

‘And the story, Herr Hedinger?’ asked
Remington-Barber. ‘We always need to have a very good story.’

‘A reward! Andreas has done so well at school I
promised him a visit to Berlin. I was planning to take him myself but have been
unable to arrange it because I’m so busy, so I asked one of my couriers to do
so. Andreas is fascinated by everything he sees about Germany, the marching –
everything. He is so excited.’

Henry sat very still with his head in his hands. Edgar
raised his eyebrows high and looked at Remington-Barber who shook his head.

‘Henry: any better ideas?’

‘None I can think of at the moment.’

‘Basil?’

Remington-Barber shook his head. ‘It’s a bit thin,
to be honest, but then very few cover stories are quite as watertight as we’d
like them to be. We have to rely on no-one probing too deeply. I suppose it
does at least have the merit of being relatively simple. As long as no-one
pushes too hard on why a mere courier would be entrusted with taking his boss’s
son to Berlin. Perhaps we could say Henry’s also a close family friend of
yours: maybe your wife could write a letter thanking him for putting himself
out and all that?’

‘That’s a good idea, Basil,’ said Edgar.

‘Herr Hedinger, you’ll need to give Henry some
important information: your address, what Andreas likes and doesn’t like, all
about his school, sports – that kind of thing,’ said Remington-Barber. ‘Alfred
will have to learn all that in case he’s questioned.’

Edgar sighed loudly, stood up and paced around the
room, a trail of cigarette smoke following in his wake.

‘Let’s be frank. If the Gestapo pull in Alfred and
interrogate him, the whole thing will fall apart. We have to hope, as Basil
says, we don’t get to that point; that no-one probes too deep. If none of us
can come up with a better tale, I suppose that’s it. Herr Hedinger, you’d
better get back to the bank. Can I suggest you invite Henry round to your house
at the weekend? That way he can familiarise himself with Andreas and your
family. Basil, I think you ought to go too.’

***