Angel of Vengeance: The thrilling sequel to Angel in Red (Anna Fehrbach) Page 18

  Anna closed the folder. ‘These houses appear very warm, but they are made of essentially cold materials, aren’t they?’

  ‘All houses are basically cold, Countess. Anna. May I call you Anna?’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘How warm they can become depends on who lives in them. However, I wish you to know that if none of those properties interest you, you have the right to say so. In fact, I do not care for any of them myself, and have told my associates this. But they insist I should show them to you.’

  ‘They do interest me, Count. To own a property like this has long been my dream. It’s just that I have not seen a proposal like this before.’

  ‘I know. I suppose, when you come down to it, all property companies are basically alike. I can only promise you that no one is going to let you down this time.’

  ‘And I must believe you. But you do realize that if I purchase this property, the neighbours may not be very happy. It may involve them in a great deal of inconvenience, to say the least.’

  ‘We have taken soundings in the neighbourhood, and they are for it. Regardless of the possible consequences.’

  ‘Then I would certainly like to look at it. But there may be a problem. My business affairs keep me extremely busy. I may not be able to arrange a visit to the prime site.’

  ‘If you cannot, we will understand. But my associates would be very disappointed. It really is necessary that we start selling. Right away.’

  Anna nodded. ‘If I can possibly get away, I will do so.’

  ‘I am sure you will. There is one more thing for you to read.’

  Anna turned the page. The codeword is Operation Daybreak.

  ‘Operation daybreak,’ she muttered, committing the words to memory.

  ‘Well, then,’ Judith said brightly. ‘Shall we eat?’

  Anna tapped the folder. ‘I would hate to think of this falling into the wrong hands. Someone might whip the property out from beneath my nose.’

  Clive picked up the folder and placed it in his briefcase. ‘Wherever this folder goes, I go with it.’

  *

  ‘Will I see you again?’ Anna asked over dinner.

  ‘Of course. But not on this trip,’ Clive said. He continued to speak German, but there was such a babble of conversation and noise in the crowded restaurant that the risk of anyone being able to overhear what he was saying was minimal. ‘I’m on my way back to London tomorrow, and I think it would be too risky for us to attempt to get together tonight.’

  ‘Oh.’ Disappointed, she looked at Judith.

  ‘You will see me,’ Judith said. ‘As I am established as a Spanish national, I can travel throughout Europe as I please.’

  ‘Judith will act as our go-between.’

  ‘I see. And Bartoli?’

  ‘What are your feelings about Bartoli?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t find him very reliable. He’s too uptight.’

  ‘Our own opinion. We haven’t heard from him for a month.’

  Shit, Anna thought. Had something gone wrong with the disposal of Edda Hedermann? But she decided not to involve Clive in that problem; there was nothing he could do about it, anyway.

  ‘But as he knows all about you,’ Clive said, ‘we can’t just fire him. So you will continue to use the Boutique, and so will we. But we do not wish him to know anything about this property, or about Judith, who will contact you personally.’

  Anna smiled at the titian-haired woman. ‘I shall look forward to that. Well . . .’ She finished her wine.

  ‘Anna . . .’ Clive’s hand drifted across the table to touch her fingers. ‘You are not to become personally involved. Information as to times and routes is all that we require of you. If anything were to happen to you . . .’

  She moved her finger against his palm. ‘But you want our man out of the equation.’

  He hesitated a moment, then nodded. ‘It could play a vital part in winning the war.’

  *

  ‘What was that man showing you last night before dinner?’ Essermann asked, sitting opposite Anna as the train rumbled north, out of Spain and into France.

  ‘A real estate brochure. That is his business, do you not remember? Real estate.’

  ‘And he seriously supposed you would be able to buy one of his properties?’

  ‘I have no idea. Perhaps he looked at my jewellery and made the assumption that I am a wealthy woman.’

  ‘What did you tell him about yourself?’

  ‘I told him nothing about myself, Herr Essermann, because he did not ask. He accepted me as a friend of his wife’s, and she comes from wealthy parents.’

  ‘Which is no doubt why he married her. But she must have asked after you?’

  ‘I told her I am working for an Austrian clothing firm. Now, really, Herr Essermann, you have asked too many questions. I would like to be left alone.’

  He snorted, but looked out of the window. Anna closed her eyes. She had refused to think about the situation overnight. But now it was very necessary, both on a personal and a professional level. Almost from the moment she had entered the SS training camp, three and a half years ago, she had recognized that that she was being trained for a specific purpose. To learn about men in all their aspects had been because she was required to deal with men, in all their aspects. To learn how to kill, whether with a weapon or her bare hands, and to do so ruthlessly and remorselessly, had surely not been so that she could amuse herself on her day off.

  But her marriage to Bordman, as commanded by her employers, had dulled the edge of her perception of the future. She had been fulfilling a useful, even a vital, task for the Reich. Thus the command that she should assassinate Churchill, the task for which she now knew she had been trained from the beginning, had come as a shattering bolt from the blue. MI6 had extricated her from that looming catastrophe, even if she had had to help herself by committing mass murder.

  When, the previous year, she had been sent to Moscow for the express purpose of seducing the womanizing commissar Ewfim Chalyapov, Stalin’s right-hand man, she had waited for the order she knew had to come, as indeed it had. She owed her survival on that occasion to Joe Andrews, and so she had gone to the States with considerable apprehension, and it had actually turned out worse than she had feared. Once again she had survived thanks to the assistance of gallant – or were they merely lecherous? – men. But she had no idea how Himmler was going to regard her deportation, as it had happened before he had been able to tell her what her real mission was. At least she had been able to obtain the vital information that he had sought.

  It had never occurred to her that the British Government would in turn seek to employ her as an assassin rather than merely a spy. But as Clive had said, all governments, however ostensibly upright and honest, were the same colour when it came to fighting a war. So, were they writing her off? She was sure that Clive was deeply concerned about the risk they were asking her to take. But Clive had made it very clear from the moment of their first acquaintance that for him the job, the eventual victory of his country, was far more important than the life of any individual. As it had to be for her – even if the life involved was her own. That victory remained the only hope for her parents, and while she dreamed of being there to greet them when they emerged from their prison, the important thing was that they should eventually emerge. She had to believe that Clive would honour his word.

  So, time to replace doubts with professionalism. That meant getting to Prague, and resuming life as Heydrich’s bed-mate. And that meant persuading Himmler to humour her . . . and Heydrich to want her back.

  She realized that her gloved hands were tightly clenched, and hastily spread her fingers and rested her hands on her knees.

  Chapter Eight – Plots

  ‘Anna!’ Heinrich Himmler held her hands, but did not, as she had feared, draw her forward for an embrace. ‘Welcome home. I hope you have a great deal to tell me. You are home far sooner than I expected.’

  ‘Indeed, He
rr Reichsfuehrer.’

  He gestured her to a chair. ‘You had no difficulties?’

  Perhaps he had not, after all, intended her to murder. Or was he laying one of his traps?

  She shook her head. ‘None I could not surmount. But the Americans knew who I was, as I knew would happen. And when they discovered that I was seeing a lot of their important people, they deported me.’

  Himmler nodded. ‘Ribbentrop was informed by the Ambassador. And they did not even have the courtesy to give a reason. These people are barbaric. But are you saying that you learned nothing of value?’

  ‘I learned everything you wished to find out, Herr Reichsfuehrer.’

  He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I can give you a categorical assurance that America has no intention of entering this war. Oh, they do not like us, and they would like to see us defeated, which is why they are supplying the British and the Russians with materiel, but Roosevelt was only re-elected for an illegal third term on the guarantee that he would never send American troops to fight in Europe unless something quite exceptional happened.’

  ‘Ah! What is this something quite exceptional? Our plans for the Jews?’

  ‘No. I specifically raised that point, without of course going into any details. And they assured me that while all their sympathies were with the Jews, they had no intention of fighting for them. The only thing that would bring the United States into the war would be for us to attack them. I assume we have no plans to do that.’

  ‘Of course we do not. Anna, you are a treasure. The Fuehrer will be delighted. He may well wish to see you again.’

  ‘Thank you, Herr Reichsfuehrer. May I ask if it is possible for me to take a brief holiday?’

  ‘I wish it were.’ He took off his glasses and polished them. ‘I would like to ask you a very personal question.’

  Oh, Lord, Anna thought. But she smiled. ‘Of course, sir.’

  She watched him get up, walk round his desk and her, and go to the doors. These had been closed after her entry. Now he carefully turned the key to lock them. Then he returned to his desk, while Anna’s brain whirred. Did he intend to rape her here in his office?

  He sat down and stared at her. ‘Tell me about your relationship with General Heydrich.’

  ‘Sir?’ She was taken entirely by surprise.

  ‘You were his mistress, were you not?’

  ‘Ah . . . yes, sir.’

  ‘Were you happy with that? Or did he force you?’

  Not for the first time in her life, Anna felt that she was picking her way through a minefield. ‘He was my commander, sir.’

  ‘And you always do what your commander wishes?’

  Here we go, Anna thought. ‘It is my duty to do so, sir.’

  ‘He confided to me, once, that he thought you hated him. In fact, that having you submit to him, knowing that you hated him, gave him greater pleasure than actually, ah, having you.’

  Anna licked her lips.

  ‘Does that anger you?’

  She stared at him.

  ‘I made him what he is, you know,’ Himmler continued. ‘Ten years ago he was a washed-up naval officer. He had just been cashiered. Do you know what for?’

  ‘General Heydrich has never discussed his background with me, sir.’

  ‘He was cashiered for womanizing in a most blatant and disgusting manner. He even used to smuggle women into his cabin on board ship.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Anna said, suitably shocked.

  ‘I saw his potential, and took him into the SS. I promoted him, introduced him to the Fuehrer. And now he wishes to betray me. Me!’

  ‘Sir?’ Now Anna was genuinely shocked, while all manner of possible scenarios raced through her mind.

  ‘This is in confidence, of course, between you and me.’ He peered at her.

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  ‘I have discovered that he means to displace me as Reichsfuehrer. What is more, I have learned that he plans to have himself named by the Fuehrer as heir. Can you believe that?’

  ‘Ah . . . no, sir. May I ask, does the Fuehrer know this?’

  ‘Who knows what the Fuehrer knows, and does not know? I do know that he was very impressed by Heydrich’s proposal for dealing with the Jewish question. Well, you know that. You were there.’

  ‘Yes, sir. May I ask, is that progressing?’

  ‘It is. Slowly. We have chosen a site for our first camp, a place called Auschwitz, securely hidden away in the Polish countryside. Work has started, but God knows when it will be ready. It is Heydrich we have to worry about. The Fuehrer is also very impressed with his handling of the Bohemian question. He is talking about bringing him back here before the summer. That will be to take my place.’

  ‘Excuse me, Herr Reichsfuehrer, but do you know this for a fact?’

  ‘What are facts? I watch, and I listen, and I draw conclusions. It is my job. You have to help me, Anna. I want you to go to Prague.’

  Just like that, she thought. All my problems, solved by a simple over-anxious idiot. But the implications . . . ‘To do what, exactly, sir?’

  ‘Oh, I am not seeking his assassination, not at this time. That might raise difficulties. I want you to resume your close relations with him, find out just what he is thinking, just what are his plans. If I am right, and he seeks to replace the Fuehrer, it may well be that his plan is to do this sooner rather than later. The Fuehrer may be fond of this upstart, but he will not entertain any discussion of the succession. He becomes quite demonic whenever the subject is raised. If you can obtain proof, or even a strong indication, that Heydrich is laying plans for after . . . well, after the Fuehrer’s possible retirement, and I can inform the Fuehrer, I think that will be the end of Herr Heydrich. Do you not agree?’

  ‘I am sure you are right, Herr Reichsfuehrer.’ Anna was having trouble controlling her thoughts, to stop them from running away from her. There were suddenly so many possibilities. But in the immediate future, she had to decide whether to go along with this frightened but still so powerful little man, and if she did, to obtain whatever she could from such a perilous relationship.

  ‘But do you think that the Reich-Protector wishes to have me back?’

  ‘Oh, my dear Anna, of course he does. He wanted to take you with him, last August. He was very upset when I persuaded the Fuehrer that you were the ideal choice for the American assignment.’

  You could have fooled me, Anna thought. ‘You do realize, Herr Reichsfuehrer, that you are asking me to undertake a very dangerous mission. If General Heydrich were to discover, or even suspect, what I am about . . .’

  ‘I do realize that, Anna. I have turned to you because I believe that you are a devoted servant of the Reich. Of me.’

  ‘I try to be,’ Anna said modestly.

  ‘And do not think I will forget what you have done. You will serve at my side, forever.’

  ‘That is very gratifying, sir. But I must ask, suppose something did happen to me, my family . . .?’

  ‘They will be my concern. I give you my word that no harm will ever befall your family.’

  Oddly, Anna believed him. He might be the nastiest, most devious man she had ever met, but he had an ineradicably old-fashioned view of such things as personal honour: he would never willingly break his word. Could there be anything else to be gained? She dared not press her luck too far, and if the British plans were successful . . . He had said he did not wish to risk ordering Heydrich’s assassination, but if he were assassinated, by an apparent Czech patriot, he would surely have to be pleased. ‘That is a great relief to me, Herr Reichsfuehrer. What if General Heydrich discovers what I am about and has me arrested, and interrogated?’

  ‘I am still his superior officer, Anna. No matter what may happen, I will protect you. You have my word. Now, go to your apartment and await further instructions. It will take me a day or two to set up your new posting.

  *

  So, Anna wondered as she left Gestapo Headquarters, have I fallen entir
ely on my feet, or have I got myself into something too deep for even me to handle? But obviously a successful assassination would cut the Gordian knot, as it were. And she had definitely, even if by accident, accomplished her first duty as required by London. They had to be informed of that.

  She took a taxi to Antoinette’s Boutique, strolled into the showroom, and paused in consternation as Edda Hedermann hurried forward. ‘Countess! How good to see you. Did you have a good trip?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ What the shit was going on? But Clive, even if he had his own doubts, had told her to continue using Bartoli as long as the Italian knew nothing of Operation Daybreak. So she smiled at the woman in turn. ‘Is Signor Bartoli free?’

  ‘He is in the fitting room. With a customer,’ she hastily added as Anna turned towards the inner door. ‘I will tell him you are here. Would you like to wait in the office?’

  ‘Thank you.’ She went in and sat down. This was another occasion when she wished she smoked. She could not imagine how Hedermann was still around. And, since she was still around, how the Boutique was still functioning.

  The door opened. ‘Anna! It is good to see you back. How was America? It is a country I have always wanted to visit. I have relatives there, you know.’

  ‘How very nice for you. Close the door.’

  ‘Still giving orders, I see.’ But he obeyed and went behind his desk. ‘I assume your communication is urgent, as always.’

  ‘Why is Hedermann still here?’

  ‘Should I not employ my wife?’

  ‘Your wife? Are you mad?’

  ‘I think I am perfectly sane. Which is more than I can say for most other people around here.’

  ‘I left instructions . . .’

  ‘Anna, you do not give me instructions. You bring me information for transmission to Basle and thence London. I understand that your solution to every problem is death, but that is not civilized, nor is it a Christian point of view.’

  Anna stared at him. He had definitely lost his senses. ‘Well, unless you wish me to transmit a very long message to London, concerning you, you had better explain just what is going on.’

  ‘It is very simple. You told me that Edda was suspicious of our activities, and had confided her suspicions to her Abwehr boyfriend. I do not know the truth of that. Edda swears that she never knew anyone named Schlutz, and he has never been around here.’