the Valhalla Exchange (v5) (16 page)

'I've never laid eyes on Bormann in my life,' Hesser said. 'He's a man of the shadows, always has been.'

'Now we know why they wanted us so urgently,' Canning said. 'Hostages to bargain with in the hope he might save his rotten neck.' He rubbed his hands together excitedly. 'Good work, Bannerman. You've really earned your keep with that one. Take him away now, Max, and get some dry clothes on him.'

Hesser and Jackson went out. Madame Chevalier said, 'What does this mean, General? I've heard of this man, Bormann. A member of the inner circle, isn't that so?'

'Not a thing to worry about, I assure you,' Canning said. 'Now have some more coffee, sit down and take it easy and I'll be back in a moment.'

He went out with Howard and Finebaum, closed the door behind him and paused in the shadows at the head of the stairs.

'What do you think, sir?' Howard asked.

Canning looked down at Finebaum. 'Is he any good?'

'A sackful of medals. He seems to have a talent for killing people, General.'

'Okay, soldier,' Canning said. 'You watch Bannerman like a hawk. Not too close, but be around just in case.'

'I'm your man, General.' Finebaum went down the stairs into the shadows.

'You don't believe Bannerman, sir?' Howard asked.

'I had a Scottish grandmother, Captain, from the Isle of Skye, who used to say she had an instinct for things. No proof, because there was no need. She just knew. I sometimes think some of it rubbed off on me. Now get back to that gate. I'll join you there as soon as I can.'

He opened the door and went back into the dining hall.

When Howard climbed up to the ramparts above the gate it was snowing hard, large flakes drifting down through the yellow glare of the spotlight, spiralling in the slight wind. Hoover was up there with three Germans. Like them, the American was wearing a Wehrmacht winter-issue parka.

'Decided to change sides, I see,' Howard said. 'Kind of late in the war, isn't it?'

'The romantic in me,' Hoover said. 'My great-grandfather was in the Army of the Confederacy. We Hoovers just take to losing naturally, I guess. What about Bannerman?'

'He tells a convincing story. Says the opposition are going to hit us just before dawn. Slip a couple of guys across the moat with explosives and come running.'

He carried on to explain the rest of it, and when he was finished Hoover said, 'That last part doesn't make too much sense to me. I never even heard of this guy Bormann. Did you?'

'Somewhere or other,' Howard said. 'But I never thought he was particularly important. I mean, not like Ribbentropp or Goebbels or one of those guys. Sending someone like him sure lays it on the line how much they want to get their hands on these people as hostages.'

'Where's Finebaum?'

'Somewhere back there in the north tower, keeping an eye out for Bannerman on General Canning's orders.'

One of the sentries said quickly in German, 'Something moves - out there.'

He grabbed Howard's arm and pointed. A moment later, Karl Ritter, Hoffer and Strasser moved out of the darkness into the circle of light.

'Hello, the wall,' Ritter called. 'Is General Canning there?'

Howard stayed back in the shadows. 'What do you want?'

'Herr Strasser would like a word with General Canning. He has a proposition to put to him.'

'Tell me,' Howard called.

Ritter shrugged. 'If that is your attitude, then I can see we are wasting your time. Thank you and good night.'

They turned to go and Hoover whispered, 'Sir, this could be important.'

'Okay, Harry, okay.' Howard leaned forward into the light. 'Hold it. I'll see what he says.'

A moment later he was speaking to Canning on the field telephone. 'It could be a trap, sir.'

'I don't think so,' Canning said. 'They must know they'd be cut down in half a second, those two, at the first sign of trouble, and I don't think they'd make that kind of sacrifice, not if Strasser is who Jackson says he is. No, drop the drawbridge and have them in. Send Strasser up here to me. Keep Ritter with you.'

A few moments later, the drawbridge started to descend with a rattle of chains. Ritter said softly, 'So, the fish bite. Are you always so correct in your prophecies?'

'Only where matters of importance are concerned,' Strasser said, and as the drawbridge thudded down into place, they walked across together, Hoffer following.

The judas opened and Howard peered through briefly. He stepped back and they moved inside. As he closed the gate and barred it, Howard said to Hoover, 'Take Herr Strasser up to the north tower. General Canning is waiting. You, Major,' he continued to Ritter, 'will have to put up with my company until he gets back, I'm afraid.'

Strasser moved off, without a word, following Hoover. Hoffer stood, back to the gate, stony-faced. Ritter took out his case, selected a cigarette, then offered one to Howard.

'I must warn you. They're Russian, an acquired taste.'

Howard took one and leaned back against the wall, the butt of his Thompson braced against his hip. 'So, here we are again,' he said.

When Hoover knocked on the door and led the way into the upper dining hall, only Canning and Justin Birr stood by the fire. Strasser paused nonchalantly in the centre of the room, hands in the pockets of his leather coat, slouch hat slanted over one ear.

'Good evening, gentlemen.'

Canning nodded to Hoover. 'You can wait outside, Sergeant. I'll call you if I need you.'

The door closed. Strasser crossed to the fireplace and spread his hands to the blaze. 'Nothing like a log fire to take the chill off. It's cold out there tonight. The kind that eats into your bones like acid.'

Canning glanced at Birr and nodded. Birr crossed to the sideboard, poured a generous measure of brandy into a glass and returned.

'Just to show how humanitarian we are. Now what in the hell do you want, Bormann?'

Strasser paused in the act of drinking some of the brandy. 'Strasser, Herr General. The name is Strasser.'

'Strange,' Canning said. 'You look exactly like the man I saw in Berlin in 1936 standing on the rostrum behind Adolf Hitler at the Olympic Games. Reichsleiter Martin Bormann.'

'You flatter me, General. I am, I assure you, a relatively unimportant official of the Department of Prisoner of War Administration.'

'I have difficulty in imagining you as a relatively unimportant being. But go on.'

'Let us consider your situation here. There are twenty-four of you in this garrison, twenty-six if we count the ladies. Most of your men are reservists who have never fought or cripples who can barely lift a rifle.'

'So?'

'We, on the other hand, have almost forty battle-hardened shock-troops to call upon. Men of the Waffen-SS, and whatever you may think, General, however much you disapprove, that means the best in the world.'

'Get on with it,' Justin Birr said. 'Just what are you trying to prove?'

'That if we decide to move against you, the consequences will be disastrous - for you.'

'A matter of opinion,' Canning said. 'But accepting that what you say is true, what do you suggest we do about it? I mean, that is why you're here, isn't it? To offer us some kind of alternative solution. I mean before you try slipping a couple of men across the moat just before dawn to blow the drawbridge chains.'

'My goodness, somebody has been busy,' Strasser said. 'All right, General, it's simple. We have Dr Gaillard, whom we found at the Golden Eagle in Arlberg attending to the landlord's sick son. Sad, how good deeds can so often prove our undoing. However, if you and Colonel Birr will hand yourselves over, we'll be content with that and let the ladies go free.'

'Not a chance,' Canning said.

Strasser turned to Birr. 'You agree?'

'I'm afraid so, old stick. You see, we don't really trust you, that's the truth of it. Terribly sorry, but there it is.'

'And the ladies?' Strasser said. 'They have no say in this?'

Canning hesitated, then went and opened the door. He spoke briefly to Hoover, then returned. 'They'll be here directly.'

He and Birr lit cigarettes. Strasser turned to survey the room and immediately saw the great silver bowl of scarlet winter roses on the piano.

'Ah, my favourite flowers.' He was genuinely delighted and crossed the room to admire them. 'Winter roses. Like life in the midst of death -they fill the heart with gladness.'

The door opened and, as he turned, Claire de Beauville, Madame Chevalier and Earl Jackson entered the room. Strasser smiled at the American. 'We missed you for supper.'

'Sorry I couldn't stay.'

Strasser turned to Canning. 'An explanation of one or two things which were puzzling me. I was beginning to think you were a wonder-worker. It's nice to know you're just a man, like the rest of us.'

'Okay,' Canning said. 'I've had just about enough for one night. You wanted a word with the ladies - well, they're here, so make the most of it.'

'I can't imagine what you could possibly have to say to me that I would be interested in hearing, Monsieur,' Madame Chevalier said. 'Thankfully, I can use the time to some advantage.'

She sat down at the piano and started to play a Debussy nocturne. Strasser, not in the least put out, said, 'I have offered you ladies your freedom, guaranteed it, on condition that the General and Colonel Birr come quietly and with no fuss.'

Madame Chevalier ignored him and Claire simply walked across to the bowl of roses and buried her face in them.

Strasser said, 'I should have known. Above all flowers, they need delicate hands and infinite patience in their rearing. Your work, Madame?'

'Yes,' she said. 'So, as you can see, I am fully occupied and cannot leave at the present time.'

Canning moved in. 'You heard the lady.'

Strasser selected one of the blooms, snapped the stem and placed it in his buttonhole. 'Ah, well, it was worth the trip. You like winter roses, General?'

'Whatever it is, if Madame de Beauville cultivated it, I like.'

'Good,' Strasser said. 'I'll remember that at your funeral. One gets so bored with lilies. A single scarlet winter rose should look very well. And now, I think, I will bid you goodnight. There is obviously nothing more for me here.'

He walked to the door. Hoover glanced at Canning, who nodded. The sergeant led the way out.

There was a heavy silence and Madame Chevalier stopped playing. 'I must be getting old. Suddenly I feel cold - very, very cold.'

Strasser stepped through the judas, followed by Hoffer. As Ritter moved out Howard said softly, 'I'll be seeing you.'

'When?' Ritter said. 'Under the elms at dawn? Six paces each way, turn and fire? You take it all too seriously, Captain.'

He followed the others across. As they stepped on to the bank, the drawbridge lifted behind them.

'Are you satisfied?' Ritter asked Strasser softly.

'Oh, yes, I think so. Jackson should be well enough entrenched now. The rest is up to him.'

He started to whistle cheerfully.

It was just after midnight, and in Berlin at his office in the bunker Bormann worked steadily, the scratching of his pen the only sound, the noise of the Russian shelling muted far away. There was a light tap on the door. It opened and Goebbels entered. He looked pale and haggard, the skin drawn tightly over his face. A dead man walking.

Bormann put down his pen. 'How goes it?'

'Goebbels passed a flimsy across the desk. That's the radiogram I've just dispatched to Plon.'

G
RAND
A
DMIRAL
Do
NITZ
(Personal and Secret)

To be handled only by an officer.

Fuhrer died yesterday, 1530 hours. In his will dated
29
April he appoints you as President of the Reich, Goebbels as Reich Chancellor, Bormann as party minister
...

There was more, but Bormann didn't bother to read it. 'Paper, Josef. Just so much paper.

'Perhaps,' Goebbels said. 'But we must preserve the formalities, even at this desperate stage.'

'Why?'

'For posterity, if nothing else. For those who will come after us.'

'Nobody comes after us. Not here -not in Germany for many years to come. Our destiny lies elsewhere for the time being.'

'For you, perhaps, but not for me,' Goebbels said, his voice flat, toneless.

'I see,' Bormann said. 'You intend to emulate the Fuhrer?'

'No shame in ending a life which will have no further value to me if I cannot stand at his side. I have no intention of spending the rest of my life running round the world like some eternal refugee. Preparations are already in hand. The children will be given cyanide capsules.'

'What, all six of them?' Bormann actually smiled. 'Thorough and painstaking to the end, I see. And you and Magda?'

'I have already detailed an SS orderly to shoot us when the moment comes.'