LITMIR.BIZ

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To be frank, the Führer’s decision to halt the Panzers on the Aa Canal in Belgium and thus allow the remnants of the British Expeditionary Force to escape from Dunkirk, was a military error of the first magnitude.’

      ‘And now?’

      ‘Russia. I think that is the way his mind is increasingly turning. I have reason to believe he already has a contingency plan in mind.’

      ‘And you don’t think it such a good idea?’

      ‘Do you?’

      Schellenberg shrugged. ‘Happily, I don’t have to make that kind of decision. If you want my opinion, I’d say that the trouble with a Russian campaign is not particularly the Russian army. It’s the limitless distances, supply lines thousands of miles long, ferocious winter weather. Look what happened to Napoleon.’

      ‘I know,’ Heydrich said. ‘I have nightmares about that.’ They were travelling along the Kurfürstendamm now and he wound down the window and peered out. ‘Not what it was in the old days – nothing is. I was at the Gloriapalast Theater for the premiere of The Blue Angel in nineteen-thirty. What a sensation and when Dietrich appeared in person on stage, the crowd went wild. Believe me, Walter, those legs of hers were the eighth wonder of the world.’

      ‘I can imagine,’ Schellenberg said.

      ‘You’ve no idea what this town was like. There was the Ring Club which only allowed membership to those who’d served at least three years in jail. The Silhouette, the Always Faithful and the Paradise which was filled with the most glorious transvestites in gorgeous dresses, high heels, lipstick. Not that my own tastes ever ran in that direction.’

      Schellenberg said nothing, simply lit another cigarette and let him ramble on.

      Heydrich said. ‘One can only hope this Garden Room and your Hannah Winter can supply us with a decent evening’s entertainment. It would make a nice change.’

      Hannah had already changed, ready for the first show, and went in search of Uncle Max whom she had not seen since the previous evening. She found him in his office doing the books.

      She kissed him on top of the head. ‘Had a good day?’

      ‘Not too bad. And you?’

      ‘I stayed in bed most of the morning. Did some shopping this afternoon.’

      He took both her hands in his. ‘What we talked about last night, liebchen? You’ll do as I say? Leave with Connie and the boys on Monday.’

      ‘And you?’

      ‘I’ll follow as soon as I can.’

      ‘Uncle Max, you’re a Jew in a city where Jews are treated as badly as at any time in the last two thousand years. I don’t even understand why you came back when any Jew with sense was trying to get out.’

      ‘I’m American, liebchen. And so are you. They don’t want trouble with Uncle Sam – they’ve got enough on their plate, so they treat us a little differently. I don’t say they like it, but that’s how it is.’

      She shook her head. ‘There’s more to this than meets the eye. Much more.’

      ‘Twenty minutes to show time,’ he said. ‘Make us some coffee, like a good girl.’

      She went into the small kitchen off his office, leaving the door ajar. She lit the gas and filled the coffee pot with water, then lit a cigarette and sat on a high kitchen stool and waited for the water to boil.

      There was a knock on the office door, it opened, then closed again violently. She heard her uncle say in German, ‘Irene, for God’s sake! Haven’t I told you never to come here?’

      ‘I’d no choice, Max. Something happened today that was rather special.’

      Hannah stood up and moved so that she could see through the partially open door into the office. Irene Neumann unbuttoned her coat, raised her skirt and took the folded copy of the Windsor report from her stocking.

      ‘I was put on temporary duty in the copying room today. I had to make copies of this for Heydrich. It’s a report of a meeting between Schellenberg and von Ribbentrop concerning a plot to kidnap the Duke of Windsor.’

      The kitchen door swung open and Hannah stepped into the room. Irene Neumann turned pale, ‘Oh, God!’ she said.

      ‘No, Irene – it’s all right.’ Max squeezed her hand reassuringly. ‘This is my niece, Hannah. Completely trustworthy, I assure you. Now, let me have a look at this.’

      He read it quickly, then passed it to Hannah. ‘So – now you know. Go on, read it. This is the sort of thing that keeps me here.’

      Her brain seemed to be dulled with the shock of it. She started to read the report and at the same time was aware of Irene Neumann and her uncle speaking in low tones.

      As she finished, she heard the woman say: ‘Will Moscow be interested?’

      ‘Perhaps. On the other hand, I might be able to pass it on through the American embassy. Difficult, though. The Gestapo have forty or fifty men watching the place constantly. You’d better go now. How did you come in?’

      ‘By the stage door.’

      ‘Leave the same way.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Look after yourself, Irene. I’ll be in touch.’

      When Irene Neumann left by the stage door it had started to rain. She paused to button her overcoat and found an old beret in one pocket which she pulled on.

      There was a street lamp bracketed to the wall at the end of the alley, giving the SD man on surveillance duty inside the delivery truck parked on the corner a clear view of her as she walked towards him. He managed to take several photos of her before she turned into the main street and disappeared into the evening crowds.

      ‘Unde Max – you’re a Communist?’

      ‘Labels,’ he said, ‘are meaningless these days. The only question that matters is which side you are on. Look, try and understand. In New York, after twenty-five years, I owned a hotel and two nightclubs. Everything paid for and I had half a million dollars in the bank I didn’t know what to do with. I was bored. So, I got involved with a Zionist organization that was trying to do something about what was happening to our people in Germany. Your mother knew nothing about it. I came back here in thirty-seven to help organize an escape line for Jews. I gradually got drawn into the other side of things. The only people who are really doing anything worth doing are the Socialist Underground and, by their very nature, their links are with Moscow.’

      ‘And Frau Neumann?’

      ‘Irene is a dedicated Communist. Not a card-carrying member. What they call a sleeper. Available to Party orders since she was a seventeen-year-old student. She really believes Karl Marx walked on water and she loathes the Nazis. She’s a clerical worker at Gestapo Headquarters. There are people like her in positions of trust all over the country. You’d be surprised.’

      ‘And this?’ She held up the report.

      ‘I told you Schellenberg was important, didn’t I?’

      ‘But this business about trying to win the Duke of Windsor over to their cause. It’s nonsensical. He’d never do such a thing.’

      ‘I agree, but Schellenberg’s instructions seem real enough. If necessary, he’s to kidnap the Duke and Duchess. It’s as simple as that.’ He smiled. ‘You see, liebchen, it’s now more important than ever that you leave here Monday and make your way to Lisbon.’

      ‘Taking this with me?’

      ‘You’d probably do better to memorize it.’

      Suddenly she was filled with a fierce exhilaration. ‘You know, Uncle Max, being a Jew never really meant all that much to me until I came here and saw how Jews were treated. It was all right for me. Good clothes, position, an American passport, but I’ve

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