Impossible Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  A group of Wehrmacht and SS officers marched into the room with pistols drawn.

  Keitel stood up. “What is the meaning of this Jodl. Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  “No, Herr General. It is time to restore Germany to greatness.”

  “All of you,” Keitel pointed to the group that had entered the room. “You will go to the adjutant’s office and consider yourselves under arrest.”

  The men ignored him and continued moving around the table to where they flanked Schloss and Goering. Felix Grossman, Schloss’s guard of the day tried to ease unobtrusively to one side. One of the SS officers shot him. Keitel began fumbling with the cover over his holster. An SS major turned and calmly shot him.

  “Now,” Jodl said, “you will accompany these officers.”

  Two of the men flanked Goering and escorted him out of the room. He appeared to be in shock and stumbled along as they guided him.

  Okay, Hennie, Schloss thought, it seems Frau Marsden was right again. What do we do now?

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  November 18, 1942; 9 AM

  SS Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  “Now, if you will observe the subject, we have anesthetized him lightly. This produces a low level of consciousness that makes the subject more voluble. He will not necessarily tell the truth in response to the questions, but the drug seems to make it more difficult to lie.”

  Schloss wondered who was speaking, but he felt drowsy and comfortable where he lay. He wanted to turn his head to see the speaker, but could not quite convince his muscles to oblige.

  “I thought you had a truth serum,” another voice said.

  Schloss did not recognize this voice, either.

  “Unfortunately, such only exists in fiction. The drugs are merely part of the toolset an interrogator uses.”

  “So, we won’t be a be able to find out who he actually is?”

  “I did not say that. With a combination of techniques, we can usually find out quite a lot about the subject. And he appears to be ready. We will first ask some baseline questions to get a sense of the mental state of the subject.”

  A face now hovered over his and swam in and out of focus. “What is your name?”

  “Heinrich Schloss.”

  “What is your real name?”

  “Heinrich Schloss.”

  “What do people call you?”

  “Hennie.”

  There was a pause, and the questioner spoke again.

  “Who is your wife?”

  “Trudy.”

  “Where were you born?”

  “Berlin.”

  “What is your birth date?”

  “March eighteenth.”

  “What was the year of your birth?”

  “1946.”

  There was a long pause.

  “What is the day and year of your birth?” The question came with more emphasis.

  “March 18, 1946.”

  A piercing pain in his left index finger raised Schloss from his torpor, and he cried out.

  “You are not being very cooperative, today. We know you are an impostor. Now, who are you?”

  “Accidental Nazi.”

  “What?”

  “An accidental Nazi.”

  This time it seemed like his finger was on fire. Schloss screamed and thrashed against the straps holding him to the table. It seemed to be throbbing in concert with the blood pounding in his ears.

  “This is not funny. Where did you come from?”

  “West Berlin.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “An accident.”

  The questions went on interminably. Schloss’s answers were interspersed with pain. While the pain was sharp, he could not seem to wake himself up. Finally, the SS interrogator slipped out of the room. Dr. Morell waited in the hallway.

  “What has he told you?” Morell asked.

  “This is strange,” the interrogator said. “I have heard of schizophrenia, of course. I have never seen it before, though. But, that seems to characterize what I am seeing, here.”

  Morell shook his head. “When Dr. Kranz put him under to work on his teeth, he said some strange things when he awakened. That was what led us to suspect he was an impostor.”

  “With all due respect, Doctor, I think what we are seeing here is a mental illness. But, there is no doubt in my mind we are dealing with the real Heinrich Schloss.”

  “Might I suggest you use more extreme measures, Captain,” Morell said. “Perhaps that will break through to whatever we are dealing with.”

  “Such measures often leave the subject with permanent damage.”

  “That is none of my concern.”

  The interrogator looked over at the SS colonel, standing behind Morell, who nodded.

  “Very well. Let me see what I can do.”

  Schloss lay strapped to the table in the interrogation room and gradually became more aware of his surroundings. He was in deep trouble and had no thought of how to retrieve the situation. He heard a door click shut and the face hovered over him again.

  “I am going to need some direct answers. If you do not provide me with what we need to know, you will regret it.”

  He saw a hand, holding a pair of alligator clips came into view. He felt the clips fasten to his nose, and he hissed as the teeth bit into his skin. He jumped again when he felt something similar lower on his body.

  “Now, once again, what is your name?”

  “Heinrich Schloss.”

  The pain was suddenly indescribable. He screamed and thrust up against the straps. He twisted around to try to escape it. The pain subsided, but he felt as though he had been beaten with a heavy stick.

  “Perhaps you might want to be more cooperative. I know that this is very painful for you. I can make it easy or I can make it hard. It is your choice.”

  “What do you want?” Schloss ground out between clenched teeth.

  “We simply want to know where you came from and how you managed to supplant the real Schloss.”

  “You would never believe it.”

  “I would very much like to try. Or perhaps you should experience more of my hospitality.”

  “No, no. Very well, here it is. I was born in 1946 and came to Germany from 1982. I was suddenly standing in another man’s clothes and I saw Hitler’s plane crash. The man next to me called me Herr Schloss, so I apparently displaced another Schloss. Because my name is Schloss.”

  The crashing pain came again. He convulsed as he screamed. He had never experienced anything like this. Then it subsided for a few moments.

  “I do not appreciate having you toy with me. I will have the truth.”

  “The truth is you will die after what you did to me!” Schloss shouted hoarsely.

  The pain hit again and again; there was no escape. He wished he could die.

  § § §

  November 18, 1942; 10 AM

  American Embassy

  Berlin, Germany

  It was a quiet morning, and Misty Simpson sipped her second cup of coffee. They had received notice that the advance party for the transfer of the Boeing bombers would be arriving imminently. Gordon Smoke was closeted with the military attaché and generally making a nuisance of himself by trying to manage the visit. This is something Captain Greeley was fully capable of handling. On the other hand, she was glad for the peace and quiet. Smoke usually found two or three things to annoy her with, each morning in the office. She was willing to admit he was good at what he did, but he was such an ass.

  She had telephoned Karl Rainer’s office for an appointment, but Karl was unable to take the call. She hadn’t heard back from him, and so assumed it was busier in the Reich Foreign Ministry than the American Embassy at that moment. She rebuked herself for woolgathering and got back to work.

  The State Department courier had arrived that morning, and the stack of mail on her desk was daunting. In addition to the routine State Department communiques, which she had to re
ad carefully, there was a group of a half-dozen coded letters from Donovan’s office. These she carried downstairs to the coding room so that one of the Marine communications specialists could type it into the coding machine and get the translation for her. That, of course, took longer than reading the things. After reading the memos, she was convinced the people in Washington encoded their material for the same reason dogs licked themselves – because they could. She thought she could have handed the material to the Berliner Zeitung, for the front page, and it wouldn’t damage the United States in any way. On the other hand, it was probably not a good idea to let the Germans know how lacking in imagination the Americans were.

  She looked up as a large, stocky hausfrau stepped into her office.

  “Who are you?”

  “You must come with me, Fräulein Simpson. Herr Rainer and Herr Schloss are in deep trouble.”

  “I don’t understand,” Misty said. “How did you get in here? How did you get past the guards?”

  “If you wish to save Herr Rainer’s life, you must come now, Fräulein Simpson.”

  “But I don’t know you.”

  The old lady leaned over the desk and glared at Misty. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  “The hotel in Lisbon,” Misty stated.

  “That is correct. And we saved Herr Schloss’s life, did we not?”

  “And you are the Schloss housekeeper.”

  “Fräulein, sometimes the less you know, the better.”

  Misty dithered for a moment, then reached under her desk for her purse. She opened it up to check for her gun. Then, she stood up.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Do you have an automobile?” the old woman asked.

  Misty opened the top center desk drawer and slid a key out. “The guards will be a problem.”

  The old woman turned. “The guards will not be a problem. We should leave.”

  Misty had to trot to catch up with the old woman as she marched through the embassy. Curiously, no one seemed to be around as they threaded their way through the hallways. Coming to an intersection, the old woman turned left towards the exit to the motor pool. While Misty could hear activity in the embassy offices, still, no one entered the hallways they traversed.

  The old woman shoved the door open to the courtyard. It swung around and hit the outside wall with a bang. Misty jumped and looked around to see who would be coming to investigate. Once more they were left alone.

  “Come along, Fräulein Simpson. There is little time to waste.”

  Misty followed her across the courtyard and the woman walked unerringly to the Opel that Misty usually drove. The old woman climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. She folded her arms across her massive chest as she waited impatiently for the Embassy Secretary. Misty trotted around to the driver’s door and climbed in.

  “How will we get out of the courtyard?”

  “That is not a problem.”

  Misty started the car with a roar and crunched the transmission into first gear. She swung the car out of its parking space and turned the wheel quickly to the right to line up with the gate. And the gate was open.

  “You will need to drive to Herr Rainer’s office,” the woman said.

  As they drove out through the gate, Misty noticed the guard in the small shack next to the gate stared directly ahead and ignored them. The tires squealed as Misty turned right and headed up the street.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “I suppose that is harmless enough. I am Frau Marsden.”

  “You certainly seem to be in a lot of places at once.”

  Misty waited for an answer as she worked the car across the city. Finally, Frau Marsden spoke.

  “My task here is to protect Herr Schloss and his family. To ensure his success, I find that I also must work to safeguard Herr Rainer.”

  “What has gone wrong with Karl?” Misty asked.

  “A group of evil men is attempting to take control of Germany. This is not to be allowed. We must release Herr Rainer and let him move to reestablish order. Other help is coming; however, we must act now.”

  “How will we ever get into that building, Frau Marsden. There are going to be guards all over the place.”

  Frau Marsden harrumphed. “I will take care of our access to the building. You will gain Herr Rainer his freedom.”

  “This is passing strange,” Misty commented.

  “You will see some things today, Fräulein Simpson that you will need to forget. Things moved unexpectedly and have forced me into direct action. We do not like to do that.”

  “Who is we?” Misty asked.

  “That must remain a mystery. Be assured we have only your best interests at heart.”

  Misty shook her head as she continued to drive. The traffic was light, and they soon pulled up in front of the SS headquarters. She looked at the entrance. The guards looked ferocious.

  “Do not worry about them,” Frau Marsden said. “They have other concerns.”

  “Ooookay,” Misty drawled out.

  They climbed out of the car and walked towards the door. The guards continued to look straight ahead and did not acknowledge their presence. Misty shrugged to herself and pulled the door open.

  “Karl’s office is on the fourth floor,” Misty said. “Will the elevator operator work for us?”

  “Herr Rainer is in a cell in the basement.” Frau Marsden marched resolutely to the stairwell. Misty usually ran up or downstairs. Frau Marsden made stately progress. The door out of the stairwell into the basement opened into a long hallway. To their left were the elevator doors. Along the hallway were a row of doors. In front of several, guards stood. Once again, they did not seem to notice the visitors.

  Frau Marsden proceeded down the hallway and stopped in front of one of the doors.

  “Herr Rainer is in this room.”

  Misty twisted the doorknob and found it unlocked. She pulled the door open. Karl Rainer lay on a bench along one wall of the small chamber. When the door opened, he turned his head to see who was entering the cell. His eyes opened wide when he recognized Misty, and he quickly rose to his feet.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed. “You are in great danger.”

  “Seems like you were the one who needed help,” Misty said. “Come, let’s get you out of here.”

  Rainer looked shocked again when he stepped into the hallway. “Frau Marsden. Why am I not surprised?”

  “It is because you are entirely too observant, Herr Rainer. But, come. We must rescue Herr Schloss.”

  Frau Marsden marched further down the hall, leaving Misty and Karl to follow. Two more guards flanked the next door.

  “Herr Schloss is in this room,” Frau Marsden said. “He needs our help.”

  Rainer pulled the door open and stepped in. He stopped and swore. Schloss’s nude form lay strapped to a table. An SS interrogator and his assistant stood next to the table and seemed not to notice anything. Rainer quickly walked over and began easing the wires and clips away.

  “Mein Gott, Hennie, what have they done to you?”

  “They were having more fun than I was,” Schloss croaked out. “This was unpleasant.”

  “His clothes are over on the chair. Bring them, please, Frau Marsden,” Rainer ordered.

  Without a word, the old woman moved over to a chair in the corner where there lay a rumpled pile of clothes. She swept them up and carried them over to where Rainer helped Schloss sit up. Misty turned to face the door in embarrassment.

  “We have to get you dressed, Herr Schloss,” Frau Marsden said, as she shook out the clothes.

  “Not that I’m not grateful, Frau Marsden, but what are you doing here?” Schloss asked.

  “Why I’m helping you, Herr Schloss. Herr Rainer, we need to get him to the car. The girl and I can get him to safety.”

  “Where will you take him?” Rainer asked.

  “His wife and children are at Carinhall. Emmy Goering is there with her child. They
are protected by loyal troops.”

  “That will have to do,” Rainer said. “I will have a lot to do, here, obviously.”

  “Many of your loyal workers are detained in the rooms along this hall. They will help you.”

  “Come on, Herr Schloss,” Rainer said, putting his arm around Schloss’s waist. “Let’s get you to the car.”

  With a groan, Schloss slid off the table. His knees immediately buckled, and Rainer and Frau Marsden supported him.

  “Fräulein Simpson, you will be pleased to go along the hall and open the doors. Bring a couple of people to help us here.”

  “Right,” Misty said. She slipped through the door and shied at the guards. She opened the door directly across the hall and saw that it contained a dozen very surprised looking men in SS uniforms.

  “Herr Rainer needs your help across the hall,” she said.

  She went to the next door and opened it. It seemed odd to her that all the doors were unlocked. “Wait for Herr Rainer to give you instructions.”

  She continued down the hall, opening doors. She quickly returned to Rainer. He had apparently instructed two of them to go with her and Frau Marsden.

  “Go on to Carinhall, then,” he told Misty. “I will locate an SS doctor I can trust and send him out to look after Herr Schloss.”

  It seemed to Misty that Rainer was in a blur of activity. He went into the hallway and began issuing orders to the released prisoners. A pair of guards half carried Schloss down the hallway and entered the elevator, along with Misty and Frau Marsden. A very surprised operator took them to the main floor.

  Frau Marsden and Misty were packed into the back seat of the Opel, with Schloss between them. The two guards took the front seat, and they left the SS Headquarters. The guards clearly knew where to go.

  “I thought I was going to die,” Schloss said to no one in particular.

  “Just try to rest, Herr Schloss,” the old woman said. “Herr Rainer will send a doctor to look at you.”

  “I wanted to die,” Schloss continued. “It hurt so bad.”

  Frau Marsden put a hand to his head. “You are safe, now, Herr Schloss. You will forget. Now, you will rest.”