Gregory had turned and taken a silent step back towards the curtains. Peering through the narrow gap between them while von Osterberg reeled off this impressive list of names, he took stock of the aristocrat-scientist who was still Erika's husband. It was two and a half years since he had seen the Count and in that time von Osterberg had aged considerably. He was of medium height, thin and his hair had turned nearly white. He looked a good sixty, but he was still a handsome man, apart from a scar that seamed the left side of his face from eyebrow to chin. Gregory had given him that for his cowardice in succumbing to pressure from the Gestapo and luring Erika back into Germany so that she might be held as a hostage for her English lover.
Hurriedly von Osterberg was going on, `Beck is to be the new German Head of State; but only temporarily till we have the situation well in hand and have come to terms with the Anglo-Americans to help us stave off a Russian invasion. In spite of that fool Roosevelt having made it so difficult for us to negotiate by his announcement at Casablanca about insisting on "unconditional surrender", they can't refuse to treat us reasonably now we've got rid of the Nazis. And the last thing they want is to have Germany, Austria and Hungary fall into the hands of the Communists. But we're all against a permanent military dictatorship. As soon as we have cleared up the mess Karl Goerdeler will take over from Beck and form a coalition government, including the Socialist leaders as well as Popitz, Schacht, Donhanyi, von Hassell and our other friends. Then there will be free elections again. But I'll be able to tell you more late tonight or tomorrow morning. I only looked in just to give you the great news. I'm on my way into Berlin to find out how things are going.'
Giving Sabine a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, her elderly lover hurried out into the hall. Caution demanded that Gregory should remain where he was until the Count was well clear of the house. But no sooner had his footsteps sounded running down the garden path than Sabine stepped swiftly across the room and took down a gilt-framed oil-painting from the wall. It had concealed a small cupboard. Opening it, she grabbed up a telephone receiver and after a moment said into it:
`I want Herr von Weizsaecker. Urgently! Urgently! Highest priority. This is number forty-three speaking.'
The garden gate had slammed so Gregory came back into the room and said, `This is tremendous news. But what are you up to?'
Impatiently she waved to him to be silent, then spoke into the telephone again. `Is that you, Ernst? Put me through to the
Reichsaussenminister. At once! At once It's desperately important!'
`Hey!' Gregory cried. `Are you trying to sabotage the plot?'
Her dark eyes flashing, she covered the receiver with her hand and almost snarled at him, `Of course not. I couldn't now, even if I would. This is a private matter.'
Speaking again into the telephone, she said, `What! He is at his headquarters in East Prussia: Schloss Steinort? Then get on to him at once. Don't lose a moment. Tell him I've just learned that the Fьhrer is dead. Blown up by a bomb or something; and that the Generals have seized control in Berlin. Tell him to look out for himself.'
Panting slightly she hung up, shut the door of the secret cupboard, shook back her dark hair and said to Gregory, `That's the private line to the Foreign Office that Ribb had installed for his use when he was staying here. I haven't used it for ages. Thank God it hadn't been cut in an air-raid. As far as I'm concerned Hitler can rot in hell. So can most of the other Nazis. But I had to give Ribb, a chance to get away. After all, he's an old friend and has always treated me very decently.'
Gregory was in no position to quarrel with these sentiments. [n fact he felt admiration for the decision and swiftness with which she had acted. Smiling now, he said, `Of course you're right. Your warning should enable him to take a 'plane to Sweden before the Army boys get him. It's a bit of luck for him, though, that instead of being in Berlin he is somewhere miles away in the country.'
She shrugged. `I thought it almost certain that he would be. Since the air-raids became so bad all the top Nazis spend most of their time at comfortable headquarters up in East Prussia. They not only escape the bombs but have the advantage of being near Hitler's funk hole in the woods near Rastenburg. He's always fancied himself as the Big Bad Wolf, and often goes about hamming the childish ditty; so they. call it the Wolfsschanze.'
`Well, he won't go about singing "Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf" any more,' Gregory grinned. `So I think that calls For a celebration.'
Relaxing, she smiled back at him. 'How right you are. Let's go down to the cellar and bring up the best bottle in it.'
He followed her down to find that the wine cellar was larger than he would have expected in a villa of that size and had been well stocked by Ribbentrop. They chose a magnum of Pol Roger '28 for themselves and a bottle of Tokay for Trudi. When Sabine took the bottle into the kitchen and told her the news she broke down and wept far joy. Opening the magnum they insisted on her having a glass from it with them to drink to a happier Europe. Then they took the magnum into the drawing room and excitedly speculated on the results of the Putsch.
By half past seven they had finished the magnum, so got up another then went out to the larder and collected a cold supper. About half past nine they were both feeling on top of the world from the amount of champagne they had drunk. Stretching her arms up over her head, Sabine lay back in her armchair and said with a sigh:
`Oh, darling, how I wish you could carry me up to bed so that we could really celebrate. Is it quite impossible?'
Gregory felt that if any circumstances could ever excuse his being unfaithful to Erika these were they. The war was as good as over, and he had lived through it. Even should the police question and arrest him he now had little to fear. By tomorrow the Gestapo would be hunted men and their torture chambers being hastily dismantled so that as little evidence of German atrocities as possible would fall into the hands of the victorious Allies. The Police would do no more than lock him up until arrangements could be made for the repatriation of prisoners of war, and the Allies would lose little time about that. If ever there were a night that called for more champagne and finishing up in bed with a lovely girl, this was it.
Sabine stood up. Her eyes were moist and shining as she impulsively seized his hand and cried, `Come on! It's six months since you received your wound. You said you had only a few weeks to go to be completely fit again. A few weeks couldn't make all that difference.'
As he resisted her pull on his hand, she perched herself on his lap, flung an arm round his neck and glued her mouth to his. Her dark hair brushed his cheek and her heavy scent came to him in waves. He felt his senses swimming. Breaking their kiss, she threw back her head and pulled at him again. `Darling, I want you terribly! Take me upstairs! Take me upstairs and love me like you used to do.'
`No?' he gasped, pushing her from him. `I can't! It's not fair to ask me. Would you, if just for the sake of tonight you might ruin your chances of ever being able to make love again?'
For a moment she was silent, then she gave a heavy sigh. `No. You're right. I'm sorry, my dear. It was beastly of me to try to make you.'
With a surge of relief he shut his eyes. Opening them again, he said, `I’m sorry. Terribly sorry. But we ought to go upstairs all the same. There's no telling when Kurt will be back, and he mustn't find me here. In spite of the Putsch, that would be disastrous. His hatred for both myself and Erika knows no limit. He is proud as Lucifer, and that his Countess should have left him for a British agent while our countries were at war made him see so red that he even lent himself to helping the Gestapo to trap her. It was I who gave him that ghastly scar before going into Germany to rescue her. And, of course, by coming to England she was posted as an enemy of the Reich, so her fortune was confiscated, and he lost the use of her money. For all this he'd jump at the chance of being revenged on-me. Even if the Gestapo's got its hands full he could call in the Police and at a time of crisis like this that could still have most unpleasant consequences.'
`W
e'll go up to your room, then,' she agreed. `I'll tell Trudi to stay down here and she will warn us when she hears Kurt come in at the gate.'
The second magnum was nearly empty, so they collected a third from the cellar, with the idea that even if they couldn't make love they could get tight. Upstairs Saline made no further attempt to seduce him and they talked about the war, speculating on whether in a few days it would be finished altogether, or if the Anglo-Americans would accept the German plan for joining them in fighting the Russians; and a score of ether matters.
At midnight there was the usual air-raid,, but no bombs fell near; and by then they were too full of good wine to take much notice of it. Then about one o'clock Trudi came bursting into the room, to say that von Osterberg was by now in the hall and would be coming up at any moment expecting to find her mistress in bed.
Hastily kissing Gregory good night, Sabine said to him, `It's most unlikely that Kurt will go to his laboratory. as usual tomorrow morning; so you'd better stay up here. I'll sneak up and let you know what's been happening at the first chance I get.' Then she fled downstairs.
Elated as Gregory was by the day's events, his share of the two and a half magnums had made him drowsy; so once in bed he soon dropped off to sleep. But half an hour later he was woken by the light going on and Sabine shaking him. The consternation in her face told him at once that something had gone terribly wrong. As he hoisted himself up on his pillows, she said quickly, `The Putsch is a wash-out. Hitler's not dead after all. In Berlin the Generals made a mess of things and the Nazis are out gunning for them.'
`Oh hell!' he muttered as he gathered his wits together. `What filthy luck. But tell me more. Where's Kurt? Has he cleared out and made a bolt for it?
'No. He has nowhere to bolt to where they couldn't lay him by the heels if they go after him. He is hoping he won't be implicated; but at the moment he's in the cellar shivering with funk as though he had an ague. He means to sleep_ down there and remain in hiding until we know more about what's going on. If the Gestapo come on the scene I'm to tell them that he hasn't been home since yesterday morning, in the hope that they'll think he's made off to the country. They'll have so many bigger fish to fry that if they don't find him here they may not bother about him-anyway for the time being. Then, in a few days' time when things have quietened down, if they haven't been back and made a thorough search of the house he'll be able to assume that no-one has given him away, and screw up his courage to come out again.'
Gregory gave a not very cheerful laugh.
`There's nothing funny about it,' she said severely.
`No; I suppose not. But the thought that you are hiding two boy friends now, one upstairs and one down, momentarily tickled my sense of humour. Tell me, though, what went wrong with the Putsch?'
`Move over, so that I can get into bed with you,' she said. `I've got next to nothing on, and it's chilly standing here.'
As she wriggled down. beside him he felt that he had no option but to put his arm round her. Then, as she laid her head on his shoulder and turned over towards him, her soft body moulded itself against his side. He shut his eyes and his heart began to hammer, but-he fought a silent battle endeavouring to keep his mind on the Putsch. Fortunately for once Sabine's thoughts were not centred on amorous delights, but on events; so she began at once:
`The bomb went off all right, but either it wasn't powerful enough or Hitler wasn't near enough to it to get its full effect. Goebbels put out a broadcast about the attempt late this evening. But his account of the affair is certain to be a tissue of lies; so there's not much that's known for certain. The bomb, was taken to the Wolfsschanze by Count Claus Schenck von Stauffenberg. He must be a terrifically gallant young man Because he'd already been terribly wounded when he walked into a minefield. That cost him an eye, one hand and the use of all but two fingers of the other; so how he managed to do the job at all I can't imagine.
`Anyway, after the bomb went off he succeeded in getting to his 'plane and back to Rangsdorf, the airport outside Berlin, and he telephoned the War Office from there confirming a message that Hitler was dead that had already been sent by one of his fellow conspirators at the Wolfsschanze. Beck and some of the other Generals in the plot had assembled at the War office. Soon after they received the first message they arrested General Fromm, the Commander-in-Chief, Home Army, Because he refused to play, and issued their codeword, Walkьre. I gather that for cover purposes it was to be used for an exercise that would bring the troops at the training depots outside Berlin into the city, in the event of a revolt by the thousands of half-starved foreign workers here. But early in the evening things started to go wrong.
Fortunately Kurtt met a friend outside the War Office and they didn't actually go into the building. Instead, they decided to go off and join another group of the conspirators who had assembled in a private apartment not far off. So from that point on I know only what Kurt managed to pick up and the bits in Goebbels' broadcast that sound like facts. Apparently a Major Remer, who commanded the Guard Battalion, became suspicious about the orders he had received, so went to Goebbels. That put the fat in the fire, and the troops from outside Berlin failed to turn up. About the same time General Fromm learned that Hitler was still alive; so he arrested the Generals who had arrested him, and a lot of people were shot.'
Gregory sighed. `What a tragic mess. If only the plot hadn't failed the war might have been over in a week; but now I suppose it will drag on for months, anyway until the Allies have occupied the Ruhr and crossed the Rhine.' After a moment he added thoughtfully, `I don't wonder Kurt is scared out of his wits. Tell me, though, do you care much whether he lives or dies?
'Oh, I'd hate him to be caught,' Sabine replied at once. `Although he's no good as a lover, I'm quite fond of him in a way. I've always got on well with elderly men who are well bred and intelligent. They're much more cosy to live with. Young men are always making jealous scenes and should be kept strictly for one's bed. That is, except for a few very special men, like you, darling. I'm sure I must have told you how I adored my husband, Kaleman, and when I married him he was more than twice my age. I don't love Kurt, of course, but short of having the Gestapo take me to pieces I'd do anything I could to save him.'
For a moment Gregory considered the situation. It was in his own interests that von Osterberg should die, as that would free Erika. But, even so, the thought of any man whimpering in-a torture chamber when there was a chance of preventing it was intolerable, so he said:
`If you want to save him you've got to get him back to his own bed and out of the house at the usual time tomorrow morning. Should the Gestapo find out that he was involved in the plot his goose would be cooked anyhow. But they may not.
In any case they will be buzzing round like a swarm of wasps, checking up on everyone they think might have been even remotely connected with the conspiracy, and it is certain that a man in Kurt's position will be on their list of suspects. Therefore his only chance is to act normally. If they come here at night they must find him in bed. Any story by you that he has simply disappeared would start an immediate hunt for him. Still more important, he must go to his laboratory and carry on as usual. If he doesn't his absence will be reported, and that's certain to be taken as a confession of complicity. Then when they come here and dig him out he won't stand an earthly.'
Quickly, Sabine drew away from Gregory and sat up. `You're right, darling! Absolutely right!. I'll go down at once and make him see the sense of what you've said.' As she jumped out of bed, Gregory caught another whiff of her exotic scent. Then she pulled on her dressing gown and ran from the room.
Next morning it was Sabine who brought up Gregory's breakfast. As she set the tray down she told him that Kurt had taken the advice she had given him and, fortified by a stiff brandy against awful forebodings, had just gone off to his laboratory. She added that, as soon as she had dressed, she meant to go into Berlin to find out all she could about what was happening.
It was not until a
fter five that she got back and came upstairs to tell him the result of her reconnaissance. The wildest rumours were flying about, but there could be no doubt that the Putsch had failed utterly. Several people near Hitler had been killed but he had escaped with minor injuries. Beck had committed suicide, von Stauffenberg and several others had been shot, and the Gestapo were arresting people left, right and centre.
For a time they discussed various versions of the affair, then, when it neared six o'clock, Sabine went downstairs filled with anxiety to know whether von Osterberg would return. The room Gregory occupied looked out on the road so, from behind a curtain, he too kept watch. Soon after six the Count pedaled up, then with sagging shoulders walked up the garden path. From his return it was clear that the Gestapo did not yet know that he had been among the conspirators; but there was still a very worrying possibility that, under torture, one of those who had been arrested would give him away.
However the next day, Saturday, he again returned safely but in time for lunch; and the dreaded visit from the Gestapo did not take place that day nor on the Sunday. From fear that he was being watched and if he happened to meet some friend who was already known to have been involved it might later be used against him, von Osterberg refused to leave the house; so Gregory spent a very dull weekend confined to his room. Trudi managed to smuggle up food hidden in a basket for him, but he did not see Sabine for even a few moments.
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