To Catch a King

‘Jawohl, Brigadeführer.’

Schellenberg went out and when Reitlinger turned he found Heydrich examining the centre target.

‘Astonishing,’ he said. ‘Both eyes at fifty paces. Could you teach me to do that, Sturmscharführer?’

‘I’m afraid not, General,’ Reitlinger said. ‘It is not a talent which can be taught. You’ve either got it or you haven’t.’

‘Ah, well,’ Heydrich said. ‘He is on my side.’ He opened the door and smiled. ‘At least, I hope he is.’

Lina Heydrich was away for the summer at the charming thatch-roofed chalet on the Baltic coast on Fehmarn Island which Heydrich had built for her in 1935. He himself continued to live, with the help of a cook and housekeeper, at their Berlin house which was in the exclusive Zehlendorf quarter bordering on the Grünewald forest.

Schellenberg picked him up there at eight o’clock in one of the special department Mercedes with two uniformed SS men up front on the other side of the glass partition. One to drive and the other to ride shotgun, an expression coined by Heydrich himself who was fond of a good Western film.

As they drove down towards the centre of the city Heydrich seemed morose and out of sorts.

‘Uncle Heini,’ he said, referring to Himmler by the disrespectful nickname by which he was known throughout the SS, ‘was not exactly being solicitous when he jumped in on my suggestion about providing you with bodyguards. Unless I’m very much mistaken, you’ll have a couple of hand-picked Gestapo goons breathing down your neck.’

‘And reporting every move I make three times a day by long-distance telephone to the Reichsführer personally. Yes, I’m well aware of the implications,’ Schellenberg told him.

‘I don’t know why, but at a time when things have never looked better, I have a feeling that they are beginning to go wrong for us – for all of us.’

‘And why should that be?’

Heydrich hesitated, then leaned forward to check that the glass panel which divided them from the driving compartment was firmly closed.

‘This is in confidence – total confidence, Walter, but the truth is, I have personal doubts about Sea Lion.’

‘You mean you don’t think the invasion of England will take place?’

‘I have a nasty feeling the moment has already passed. 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.’