SS-GB (45 page)

‘Can you be certain that he was implicated?’

‘When something like this happens…something that could bring dishonour to the whole Wehrmacht, it becomes necessary to adopt special measures. Therefore Colonel Mayhew was offered a free pardon in return for complete co-operation with the court.’ General Kellerman ran his fingers down the highly polished leather shoulder-strap, and touched the hilt of his sword, to be sure everything was in the right place. ‘The tragic death of his sovereign was what decided Colonel Mayhew, of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Douglas. The two men exchanged smiles; Douglas a tired and melancholy one, Kellerman’s relaxed and confident. So Mayhew bought his freedom
in exchange for helping Kellerman and the army to get rid of Huth. Or was that just the way they wanted it to look? ‘Will Standartenführer Huth be sent for trial?’

‘It’s all over,’ said General Kellerman. He sighed and patted his sword so that it rattled in the scabbard. ‘A flying field tribunal arrived within an hour of the last shots being fired. Colonel Mayhew gave evidence immediately. Standartenführer Huth was sentenced to death. He’ll be executed some time this morning.’

Douglas felt sick. He poured hot water into the remains of his coffee and drank it.

‘No need for you to worry,’ said Kellerman. ‘You were tried by the court
absente reo
. Needless to say, you were cleared. It’s better settled that way. A man is seldom asked to face the same charge twice.’ Douglas noted that he’d not said that such double jeopardy was impossible.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Douglas.

‘Standartenführer Huth has requested a chance to talk with you, Archer. In spite of my feelings about his conduct, I can’t help feeling sorry for the poor wretch. You’ll go of course?’

‘If you permit it,’ said Douglas.

‘In the circumstances I think it will do no harm,’ said Kellerman.

‘I imagine you will want to eavesdrop on what is said?’

‘There is no such thing as a free meal, Archer. I’m sure you are familiar with that proverb.’ Kellerman smiled but this time he didn’t bother to make it warm and friendly.

They’d given Standartenführer Huth a suite in the block reserved for high-ranking visitors to the Research Establishment. His last hours were spent in comfort. There was a bottle of brandy on the sideboard and an untouched breakfast tray with silver jugs, fine German porcelain and white sugar.

‘So Kellerman let you come?’

‘Yes, Standartenführer.’

Through the window, Douglas could see the burned-out laboratory. There was enough wind to bring charred pieces of paper up to the window before sending them whirling back across the churned-up grass and tangling them into the barbed wire.

‘The army has decided to close down its atomic research programme,’ said Huth. ‘Did you know that?’

‘It’s what you wanted.’

‘But not like this. No one in Berlin supports it, and the Reichsführer will not allow the SS to continue the work. The Americans will make the bomb…and win the war that will begin the moment they are ready. We Germans are a shortsighted race, Archer. The German army is already beginning to think that last night’s raid was a blessing in disguise.’

‘Why can they think that?’

Huth pointed to the window and the ruined buildings. ‘That raid will enable the army to keep its martial law for at least a year. God knows how
many million Reichsmarks will be given to the army, to prepare defences against another raid. Oh, the Abwehr will be delighted, and what’s more they have General Kellerman in their pocket.’

Huth walked over to the sideboard and opened a bottle of brandy. ‘And Kellerman will be delighted too,’ he continued. ‘He’ll keep his job, get rid of me and be entirely safe from any charges connected with his financial dealings.’ Huth smiled. He guessed that the conversation was being recorded. But whether it was on disc or the newer sort of wire record, it would be impossible now for Kellerman to use it in evidence without risk to himself, or tampering with it in some way that would be immediately apparent. ‘Kellerman will have me as a scapegoat,’ said Huth. ‘Any unsolved crimes, swindles or failures will be put down to my account. He was even trying to prove that I had a hand in the Highgate explosion. Have a drink?’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘No need of courtesies any more.’ Huth passed him a large measure of brandy. ‘We were all playing for high stakes. Kellerman won, so did Mayhew. You’ll not hear me whining about it.’

‘Mayhew?’

‘He promised me the earth. It’s his style; flattery and promises, eh?’ He dropped into an armchair and drank greedily.

‘Yes, that’s his style.’

‘He told me about the attack, helped me plan the ambush even.’

‘I can’t believe it!’ said Douglas.

‘Oh yes. He helped me intercept the diversionary attack. I fell for it. But while we were fighting, his main force went cross-country with their half-tracks and knocked out the Research Establishment.’

‘The diversionary attack was virtually wiped out,’ said Douglas, aghast at the enormity of it.

‘Mayhew was determined to get those Americans into combat,’ said Huth. ‘He had Dr Spode murdered and all his papers destroyed because Dr Spode wanted to take them to the US Embassy. You gave him a film and he burned it. He didn’t want the
Amis
to get the research except by fighting us, because that would get them into the idea of fighting a real war. Only in the matter of the King did Mayhew go wrong.’ Huth shrugged. ‘But we all make a mistake occasionally.’ He smiled in grim self-mockery.

‘The King was killed.’

‘Mayhew should have had more confidence in his own plan. Originally he was going to send the King to meet up with the main force. They had the halftracks for the documents. The King could have gone in one of those.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Douglas, although he was now coming to the terrible conclusion that Mayhew had not planned anything of the kind. Mayhew had deliberately sent the King by the cliff path, knowing that Huth’s men were in ambush there. It was Mayhew playing God. It was Mayhew writing the future history books. It was Mayhew making sure that the King died in battle alongside his American allies. Far better that, than an infirm and pathetic exile King in Washington, butt of the cartoonists’ cruelty, darling of the hostesses and constant reminder of the infirm and pathetic Britain occupied by the victorious Germans. Yes, now Douglas began to understand the way that a politician’s mind worked. No doubt the Queen and the Princesses were already on their way to Washington DC.

‘You are lucky, Archer,’ said Huth.

‘To escape with my life?’

Huth shook his head. ‘No. There was never any doubt that you would escape with your life. That was all decided long ago.’

‘Decided? Decided when? By whom?’

‘When Harry Woods agreed to be Kellerman’s informant, telling him every move you made, every meeting that took place, reporting every word to which he could get access.’

‘Harry Woods? My Harry?’

‘Woods phoned Kellerman about the ambulance as soon as you’d disappeared into the Reform Club. Kellerman tackled the Abwehr, and pretended he knew what they were up to. That’s how he got his men here just as the raiders were withdrawing. Not while the fighting was on, you’ll notice. Kellerman didn’t want the raid repulsed, he wanted it to be a success. After that he moved in quickly with his flying field tribunal, and their execution squad…over there eating breakfast in the mess hall. They’ve had a busy morning, you know. Their shoulders must be bruised by now.’

‘When? When did Harry do it?’

Huth sighed. ‘When he was under arrest. They came to terms. You’re a policeman, you know what a few hours under arrest does to a man.’

‘Harry Woods is as brave as a lion.’

‘You don’t think Kellerman is crude enough to threaten violence, do you?’

‘Then what?’

‘You,’ said Huth.

‘Me?’

‘You’re a fool, Archer. Don’t you realize that Harry Woods looks upon you as the son he never had? Don’t you know how proud he is of everything you do? Don’t you know that even when Harry
has a success, he tells everyone that you were the brains behind it?’

‘No, I didn’t realize that,’ said Douglas softly.

‘Kellerman was arranging to have your son sent to a boys’ home in Bohemia, a Hitler Youth unit. No need to tell you that Kellerman pretended that it was intended as a wonderful act of generosity, but Harry recognized it for the threat it really was.’ Huth sniffed and wiped his nose. ‘He knew it was the best way to make you desperately unhappy…’

‘I’m still not sure that I understand.’

‘Harry co-operated with Kellerman so that you and the child would be safe. Come along, Archer, it’s a common enough device. Have you never given an informant protection in exchange for a really good tip-off? Well, Harry delivered the goods, and Kellerman kept his word. This morning you and Harry stood trial and were cleared, all inside five minutes. Be grateful.’

‘Harry did that for me?’

‘He’s got little to live for,’ said Huth brutally. ‘Fleabitten little house, a shrew of a wife. Perhaps if they’d had kids it would have worked out differently.’

‘But Harry loves his wife.’

Huth shook his head. ‘That was a long time ago…He preferred your secretary, this Sylvia something. The one who got herself killed trying to save him. But that was strictly Resistance business.’

‘You know everything.’

‘That’s why they are executing me,’ said Huth evenly. ‘I can see into people, Archer. A policeman must be able to see into people.’

‘I don’t want to be that kind of policeman.’

‘You’ll have to be any kind of policeman Kellerman needs,’ said Huth. ‘For the time being
anyway.’ He sipped some of his brandy. ‘What time is it, they took away my watch?’

‘Nearly ten o’clock.’

‘Not much longer.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘Does your son want to be a policeman?’

‘On a motorcycle, yes.’

Huth smiled. ‘You’re lucky, Archer. Keep him out of this lousy business.’

Douglas didn’t answer. Outside the window he could see Kellerman’s gleaming Rolls-Royce. The driver was polishing the windscreen, very very carefully.

‘I’m sorry about the woman – the Barga woman. I’m sorry about the way that happened.’

‘Yes,’ said Douglas. He didn’t want to talk about it.

‘As soon as Kellerman knew you’d abandoned the ambulance he sent a couple of his Gestapo thugs round there.’

‘To Barbara’s? I phoned, a man said he was the window cleaner.’

‘They’re not very bright. You know that.’

‘I believed him,’ admitted Douglas. ‘I phoned again. She was there. She was abrupt, rude almost.’

‘Trying to warn you off, eh? Well that was foolhardy. She must have loved you very much. It’s probably what made them lose their tempers; her warning you off like that. They hit her harder than they meant to. It wasn’t part of any plan. The death of an American reporter will take a lot of explaining.’

‘Her voice was faint,’ said Douglas. ‘She’d been whispering so that she was not overheard.’

‘Why do these people love you, Archer? Is it simply because you show little or no response to their affection?’ He shook his head and did not pursue the conundrum. ‘The Gestapo men didn’t hear the phone ring. The woman was upstairs
putting her coat on. She must have heard the phone click before it rang.’

‘And I thought she didn’t want to see me.’

‘None of us is very clever with the ones we love,’ said Huth. ‘Could you take a message to my father?’

‘I have leave to come and I’m cleared for travel to Germany,’ said Douglas, ‘but I thought you hated him?’

‘Tell my father about the raid, as far as the censorship will permit. Tell him there was shooting and that I got caught in the crossfire. Tell him I died bravely. Tell him all that crap that fathers want to hear about their sons, and sons want to hear about their fathers.’

A soft knock came at the door and a young SS officer asked that the Standartenführer should be ready in five minutes. He saluted punctiliously.

‘Well, I must polish my shoes,’ said Huth, ‘and part my hair and get ready to play my star role in this Teutonic opera. The official notice will say that I was a casualty of the fighting.’

‘I’ll take the message,’ said Douglas.

‘Caught in the crossfire,’ said Huth. ‘That would be a good thing to tell him.’ He smiled sardonically.

Douglas picked up Mayhew’s duffel coat from where he’d left it on a chair. He put it on and closed the wooden toggles. It would be cold outside, and he’d be grateful for this ill-fitting coat with its curious perfume. He recognized it then; the heavy smell of snuff. It would never be enough, of course. The half-smoked Romeo y Julieta and the spilled snuff from the broken tin in Dr Spode’s waistcoat pocket: but he knew without any doubt that Mayhew had taken Spode back to the flat in Shepherd Market and murdered him before spending half the night burning all the mathematical papers. He had to
prevent the Americans getting their hands on those vital figures and even more important, prevent them talking with Dr Spode. Mayhew was determined to make the Americans fight.

‘Caught in the crossfire,’ said Huth. ‘We were all caught in the crossfire.’

‘Goodbye, Standartenführer,’ said Douglas buttoning up his collar. Through the window he saw General Kellerman’s Rolls driving past on the way to the main gate. The pennants were flying.