They Used Dark Forces (54 page)

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

Tags: #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #War & Military

BOOK: They Used Dark Forces
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‘In that I'm sure you're right. Himmler and Goebbels are loathed, Ribbentrop despised and the name of Bormann is hardly known. Whereas there was a time when, owing to your exploits as an air ace in the First World War, many people in England looked on you as rather a glamorous figure; and
even today none of the odium about lying propaganda, concentration camps or the persecution of the Jews attaches to you.'

Taking the magnum from the ice-bucket, the Reichsmarschall again refilled their glasses; then he said, ‘Talking of England, you have not yet told me about Erika. Is she still in love with you?'

‘It is seven months since I have seen her in the flesh,' Gregory replied. ‘But I've not the least reason to doubt that her devotion to me still equals mine to her. Years ago we made up our minds to marry as soon as she could get free of von Osterberg, but that was impossible as long as the war lasted and he remained alive. I … well, I heard a rumour that he was involved in the July plot and that when the Gestapo came to arrest him he committed suicide. Do you happen to know if that is true?'

Gregory had spoken casually but his heart was hammering as he waited for Goering's answer. After a moment it came. ‘I do remember hearing something of the kind, but I've an idea that he survived. It has been no easy matter to keep track of what happened to all the people who disappeared after the plot. Between August and the end of the year over three thousand men and women were executed for treason, and thousands more were carted off to concentration camps. The Führer's fury knew no bounds and he ordered that no mercy should be shown to any blood relative of those involved. He even signed the death warrant of his favourite General, Rommel, merely on suspicion that he had been implicated.'

‘What a terrible thing to do.'

‘Yes. Rommel was at his home, recuperating from wounds received when the car he was in was bombed in Normandy. The Führer sent his adjutant, Chief of Army Personnel, General Burgdorf, to him with a phial of poison and an ultimatum. He was given the choice of taking the poison or having his whole family put through the mill; so, of course, he took the poison.'

‘God help us! And after the brilliant show he put up in the Western Desert. Such treatment of a national hero is almost unbelievable.'

‘Oh, they gave him a hero's funeral, with laudatory orations and all the rest of it,' Goering replied with a cynical chuckle. ‘But reverting to von Osterberg. If he was in hospital with a self-inflicted wound he would have escaped the initial massacre, and as he was one of the king-pin scientists in the Secret Weapon racket, it's quite probable that when he came out Himmler decided that he was worth more alive than dead. I've certainly an idea that someone told me he had seen him recently. Tell me more about Erika, though. What is she doing?'

‘She's running a hospital for R.A.F. wounded. At least, she is responsible for the non-medical staff, rations, entertainments and general administration.'

‘She would do that well, for she had brains as well as looks.
Gott im Himmel
, what a woman! In Munich, in the old days, the help she gave me was invaluable. And what beauty! Her only rival in all Germany was Marlene Dietrich and they might easily have been sisters. What a lucky fellow you are to have gained her love. But that is another reason for my giving you my protection. It would be ungrateful of me to deprive her of you. I did my utmost for her to save Hugo Falkenstein. I could have, had he not been so proud and courageous; but he stood up to the Führer in defence of his people and so signed his own death warrant. Erika never forgave us his death and went over to the enemy. That was a bad day for all her friends and those of us who loved her. I suppose that in order to do this hospital job she has had to take British nationality?'

Gregory shook his head. ‘No. She declares that only cowards rat on their own country in the middle of a war. By rights she should be in a concentration camp as an enemy alien. But the big country house which has been turned into a hospital, where she works, is owned by a friend of ours, Sir Pellinore Gwaine-Cust. He has great influence with the Government and has gone surety for her. She has agreed that if she can become my wife she will regard Britain as her country; but until then, having been born a German she will remain a German.'

‘Ah, how like her!' Goering smiled. ‘Clever, brave, beautiful and a true patriot. Well, I only wish that I could send you back to her. But that is out of the question. Still, there is room and to spare in this lovely home that I have made. You can remain
here as my guest; anyway, until those accursed Russians overrun and pillage it of my treasures. For you the war is over. You have only to kill time as best you can until the final collapse. That applies too, of course, to the man you brought with you. The two of you can amuse yourselves consulting the stars and drawing horoscopes.'

Gregory smiled back. ‘
Herr Reichsmarschall
, I am more grateful than I can say for your clemency and kindness. If I succeed in getting back to Erika and tell her of this she, too, will always bless your name. I only wish, though, instead of idling here for the next few months I could be of some use. I mean, play even a small part in bringing about the cessation of hostilities.'

For a long moment Goering remained silent. Then his eyes lit up and he leaned forward. ‘
Teufel nochmal
! I believe you might if we played our cards cleverly. The Führer will listen to no-one these days except the astrologers and fake magicians with whom he surrounds himself. Their predictions are the one thing which can still influence his decisions.
Gott im Himmel
! This is an idea! Stupendous!
Kolossal
! I'll make him a present of you and your Turkish mountebank.'

24
The Devil's Court

Gregory jerked back his head as though he had been hit between the eyes and held up a hand in protest. ‘God forbid! I'd rather you had me shot here and now than send me to the Führer's headquarters.'

The Reichsmarschall's eyebrows arched into his broad forehead. ‘What an extraordinary thing to say. As a secret agent you must be used to acting a part and I thought you to be a brave man. Why are you so terrified of coming face to face with the Führer?'

‘I'm not,' Gregory replied sharply. ‘But, as his headquarters is now in Berlin, if I stay there for any length of time all the odds are that I'll run into Gruppenführer Grauber. It was I who bashed out one of his eyes. With the other he would recognise me in a second. He has threatened that if ever he gets me he'll keep me alive in agony for a month before what's left of me gives up the ghost. That's why I'd prefer a bullet now.'

‘One does not have to be a coward to dread such an end,' Goering admitted. ‘And from what I've heard of Grauber he enjoys doing that sort of thing. But you needn't worry. Grauber is now on the Russian front.'

‘What in the world is he doing there? Is he no longer the head of the Gestapo Foreign Department, UA-1?'

‘No. I assume he saw a good chance of getting a step up when his Chief became an Army Commander. He did, too. He got himself promoted to Obergruppenführer, and Himmler took him with him as his Chief of Staff when he moved to Russia.'

‘But he can't know the first thing about running an Army Group.'

‘Of course not, but he is just the man to carry out Himmler's ideas of fighting a war. He has decreed that the commanding officer in any town or village who fails to hold it is to be shot. And behind the lines he has mobile squads of S.D. troops whose job it is to shoot out of hand any officer or man they come upon who is walking away from the front.'

‘What an insane way to treat one's troops. But I thought you said that Himmler's Army Group was in the West.'

‘So it was until about a week ago. As you know, in the latter part of January the Americans launched their counter offensive in the Ardennes. To relieve the pressure on our troops, von Rundstedt proposed an attack against Strasbourg. The Americans were weak there and the city might quite well have been retaken, but Himmler made a hopeless mess of things; so the Führer kicked him upstairs and gave him command of a more vital sector, our front on the Vistula. General Hausser was ordered to take over in Alsace, but Himmler did not bother to wait for him and tell him what was going on. He cleared out bag and baggage with his staff, leaving only a dirty laundry basket full of unsorted reports for Hausser to make what he could of.'

‘This becomes more and more fantastic.'

‘Oh, it's the truth all right. Can you wonder that I've long since washed my hands of the whole business? Anyhow, Himmler is now on the Russian front and Grauber with him. All through December the Russians had been quietly preparing one of their great offensives. They launched it on January 12th. Within ten days they reached the Baltic coast east of Danzig and cut off another twenty-five of our divisions that the Führer had forbidden to retreat. Guderian, the Panzer expert, who is now Chief of Staff, wanted General Weichs to command the last troops of the Replacement Army that were being sent to fill the gap that had been torn in our front; but in such a crisis the Führer decided that Himmler was the only man he could trust, so
der treue Heinrich
got the job.'

‘You feel confident then that I shan't run into Grauber if, as you suggest, you send me to the Führer's headquarters in Berlin?'

‘I'm sure you won't. I have a highly competent Intelligence
service of my own that keeps tabs on all my dear colleagues. If any fish as big as Grauber is moved to another job I am informed of it at once. I would warn you if you are likely to be in any danger and you could come back here.'

‘But do you really think there is the least chance of my being able to influence the Führer?'

Goering shrugged. ‘It is impossible to say. But it is an indisputable fact that the only things he takes any notice of these days are Bormann's poisonous whispers and the predictions of his astrologers. I've no great hopes that you could persuade him to ask for an armistice; but you never know. Since the bomb plot his health has been steadily deteriorating. He still rules the roost because everybody is terrified of him. But mentally he's gone to pieces. He eats practically nothing and is kept going only on drugs. He lives in constant fear of assassination and is harassed by the belief that everyone except a handful of his toadies is scheming to betray him. The strain upon his mind must be appalling and at times he must long to free himself from it. That's why I feel there is just a chance that a determined man like yourself, who can make use of this occult hocus-pocus, might succeed in tipping him over the edge and getting him to put an end to it all.'

‘How about the astrologers?' Gregory asked. ‘It's certain they'll do everything they can to prevent a newcomer breaking through their ring and getting at him.'

‘Yes. That is a problem. The jealousy and hate of the people who make up the Führer's court have to be seen to be believed. And my stock with him is so low that he may not take my word for it that you are a wizard of the first order; so refuse to see you.'

‘Perhaps then it would be better if I were not presented as an occultist, but was sent to him in some other capacity; then, out of the blue as it were, make some startling prediction that comes off a few days later. That is, if Malacou can provide me with one.'

‘That is certainly an idea. You are a shrewd fellow, Sallust.' Goering picked up the magnum, saw that it was empty, dropped it back into the ice-bucket and said, ‘I don't think I'll order another. We've talked enough for tonight, and to
good purpose. The more I think about this plan the more I feel that there is a lot to it. We'll go to bed now; but we must both put our wits to work on how to make you Adolf's new blue-eyed boy. We'll talk again tomorrow.'

When Gregory got to the room he shared with Malacou he found him asleep, so did not disturb him. Next morning he told him how Goering had, after all, recognised him but spared him, and of the Reichsmarschall's idea of sending them to Hitler's headquarters.

Malacou's dark eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘I knew something of this kind would happen. The stars foretold it and the stars never lie.'

‘Aren't you a little scared at the thought of having to face him and, perhaps, influencing him into committing some act that may come back on us like a boomerang?' Gregory asked. ‘I don't mind confessing that I am.'

‘Yes; I have not concealed from you that our lives will be in danger. Towards the end of April things look very black for both of us; but I have good hopes that we will survive. This present project causes me no special fears for myself, because I am convinced that I shall outlive Hitler. After that, my horoscope is obscure. To me there comes danger from an impulse of my own. There is a possibility that I may lose my life in an attempt to save someone else. As I am not of the stuff of which heroes are made, I cannot see myself making such an attempt; so perhaps my death may be the result of an accident. But sometimes one survives such periods of danger with only an injury; as was the case with you at Peenemünde.'

They spent most of the day discussing Goering's idea and how best to prepare for it; then, shortly before midnight, Kaindl came to fetch Gregory. On their way the Colonel congratulated him on the excellent show he and Malacou had put up the previous evening and said he felt sure that they need not fear to be sent back to Sachsenhausen. At that, Gregory smiled to himself and again expressed his gratitude to Kaindl for having rescued them from their harsh captivity.

Two minutes later they entered the Reichsmarschall's study at the top of the house. It was as large as a small church and at the far end Goering was sitting at a desk the like of which
Gregory had never before seen. It was of mahogany, inlaid with bronze swastikas and twenty-five feet long. On it stood two great gold candelabra and a huge inkstand of solid onyx. Behind it sprawled the formidable figure, tonight dressed in the silks of a Doge of Venice and with the Phrygian cap crowning his broad forehead. With a smile at Gregory, he said:

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