Flossie and Ada ran to the gates, which Alice and Matilda were already unlocking.
“Hello, Alice, Matilda, Old Tom.” Flossie bent down to scratch Old Tom behind the ears (he loved this).
When the sisters had locked the gates behind them once more, they got down to business.
“Now, this here is Felix Manz,” Alice said, gesturing with her free hand towards the man. He was tall and lanky and, Flossie guessed, not long dead. His clothes were quite modern.
“Apparently he knows something about this Ahnenerbe word,” Matilda added.
“A little,” the man said.
He had an accent, Flossie noted – German, or Austrian maybe. She also saw that he was beginning to seem more and more unsure of himself.
“What do you know about it?” Flossie asked as Old Tom fell to the ground, demanding a stomach rub.
“I … the problem is …” The man halted. “Well, it’s about my son. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Not really. I won’t be putting him in any trouble, will I?”
“Your son is still alive?” Flossie asked.
“Yes. He’s an archaeologist.”
“It’s a high-ranking German officer we’re interested in. Not your son.”
The man visibly relaxed. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Tell us everything you know,” Flossie said.
Chapter 17
In which Flossie returns to Germany
The man began by telling them he was Austrian, and that he and his family had been living in England for quite a number of years. His son, however, had returned to Austria after his schooling and had then studied at a university in Berlin.
“He published a lot of papers – became quite well known,” he said proudly. Then his expression darkened. “And then, well, he was approached. He was offered men and money to go and search for things. Or one thing.”
“Wait.” Flossie held up her keyed hand. “Are you saying he was approached by the Nazis?”
The man hesitated. “Yes. They had expeditions out searching for all kinds of things. The Ark of the Covenant, Atlantis.” His eyes scanned his surroundings, worried about what he was revealing. “It wasn’t just this though. There were other things the Ahnenerbe were interested in.”
“What sort of other things?”
He paused. “My son had friends. Anthropologists. Sociologists. They went to places like Tibet, taking measurements, studying tribes. The Nazis – they’re trying to create a new cultural history. To prove they’re a superior race. They’re willing to make up history to do it too. Not only that, but the head of this division – he has other interests as well.”
“Like?” Flossie pushed.
“Spiritualism. Trying to contact the dead.”
Flossie stilled. So the Nazis were trying to make contact with the twilight world. The world Viktor Brun now inhabited. And they were searching for ancient artefacts.
The crystal skull was an ancient artefact.
“What exactly was your son sent out to search for?” Flossie focused in on the man once more, wondering if it had been the crystal skull.
“The Holy Grail,” he said. “In the Pyrenees.”
Flossie could barely believe her ears. Did the Nazis honestly think they could send some archaeologist out to pick up the Holy Grail? The cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper and that people had been desperate to find for centuries?
The man’s expression became concerned. “He was beginning to worry his time was running out. The people he was working for liked results. Fast results. They’d found many other priceless objects and–”
“What sort of objects?” Flossie stopped him in his tracks.
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “All I know is they wanted that Grail. They had a whole room ready for it.”
“A room?” Flossie said. “Where?”
“At their headquarters. At Wewelsburg Castle.”
* * *
Having told them everything that he knew, the man returned to rest, leaving the sisters, Ada and Flossie standing next to the gates.
“You’re going to go there, aren’t you?” Ada spoke first.
“I think I have to. If it’s the headquarters of the Ahnenerbe.”
“You need to take that Violet lass with you,” Alice spoke up over the air-raid siren, which had just begun to wail.
“She seems to know the ins and outs of the living and their dealings with the spirit world,” Matilda added loudly.
“She knew about the skull,” Alice yelled. “And she speaks German. She can help you, I’m sure.”
The sisters began to move towards the gates.
“They’re right,” Ada said loudly, as she and Flossie followed the women. “You need to talk to Violet.”
Alice and Matilda unlocked the gates, letting the girls out. After saying their goodbyes and waiting until the sisters had disappeared from view, Flossie took Ada aside.
“I wasn’t able to tell you this before, but I discovered something.” She leaned in close to Ada so she wouldn’t have to yell. “It’s the officer’s name. I know who he is.”
“Oh?”
“His name’s Viktor Brun,” Flossie said. “He’s … he’s the man who sank my father’s ship.”
Ada drew back. “Oh, Flossie, no! Wait. What are you saying? You told me he knew your name. Do you think there’s more to it? That he’s here because of you?”
“No, I think it’s just a coincidence, but what worries me is that it’ll only make things worse. He and my father – let’s just say they didn’t exactly get on in life.”
The drone of planes began in the distance.
“Here we go again,” Flossie said.
* * *
The arched gates to Kensal Green Cemetery rose tall in front of Flossie. Towering columns loomed, as if they would like nothing better than to swallow her whole into the darkness beyond. This was a serious cemetery. A cemetery of royal burials, pomp and ceremony and much importance. It wanted you to know that. Flossie almost felt she should curtsey.
She walked towards the huge iron gates, which encased the smaller gates for the dead. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Hugo Howsham. Not at all.
Before she could change her mind, she rapped upon the iron gates, thinking about what Violet had said to her before leaving the meeting of the seven Turnkeys. She had said that if Flossie needed any help, she need only ask. While Flossie knew Violet would be more than willing to help in any way possible, it was her brother Flossie wondered about.
“Miss Birdwhistle.” Hugo Howsham appeared before her just as the all clear sounded. Flossie almost laughed at the timing of it. It was as if even the living, busy with their war, dare not talk over the top of him.
“Oh, hello, Flossie.” Violet approached the gates. “Have you learned more about your officer?”
“Yes,” Flossie said. “I have a name now – Viktor Brun.” She considered revealing Viktor Brun’s link to her family and then decided against it. Hugo Howsham would only twist things to make it seem as if all of this trouble was her fault somehow. “There’s more too,” she continued. “It seems this Ahnenerbe group is involved in trying to contact the twilight world. I’ve found out where their headquarters are in Germany and I’d like to go there. I was hoping Violet might consider coming with me.”
Hugo Howsham would say no, she knew it.
Violet turned to her brother – tall, dark and imposing in his finely cut coat and top hat. He twisted his walking stick in the gravel, as if about to stalk away. Then he stood his ground.
“She is taking advantage of you, Violet. Haven’t you learned anything in death?”
“Hugo!” Violet said. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” he said between clenched teeth. He strode the short distance to his sister, towering over her. “She is asking you to do her job for her. I knew no good could come of a child Turnkey at Highgate and here we are.”
If Flossie could have flushed, she would have. She
was glad she hadn’t told him of Viktor Brun’s link to her father.
Violet wouldn’t be put off. “I must go, Hugo,” she said. “You know this officer was talking about Kensal Green. Not to mention the fate of our entire country could be at stake.”
Flossie grinned. Oh, Violet was clever: she knew exactly how to persuade her brother. Hugo Howsham wasn’t only a Turnkey who would do anything to protect his cemetery, he was also a very Victorian man with a very Victorian outlook. The fate of his beloved country was of the utmost importance to him.
“I’m practically fluent in German and used to being in an awakened state. I’ll be fine if it’s only a short journey. Surely I can be of help. It would be ridiculous of me not to go.”
Hugo Howsham stood silent and still for some time, then sighed, worn down by his sister. “All right. As you wish.”
Flossie started. Something about his sudden change of heart didn’t seem right. She opened her mouth to question his decision, then closed it again. She’d got what she wanted. It was probably best to leave it at that, despite her reservations.
Hugo Howsham glared at Flossie, his expression hard. “You must both be careful. Gather what information you can, but under no circumstances must you let this man see you. Do you understand my terms?”
“Yes,” both Flossie and Violet replied.
Hugo Howsham deftly unlocked the smaller gates for the dead. Violet exited and, under the Turnkey’s watchful eye, Flossie took Violet’s hand in her own and thought of Wewelsburg Castle, hoping that just the name of the place would be good enough to travel by. It had worked for travelling to the Invalid Cemetery. Hopefully it would work for Wewelsburg Castle as well.
When her eyes flashed open, they seemed to be standing at the start of a stone bridge that led to the immense grey castle, dark and foreboding above them with huge circular towers at each end. Crows called out from the trees overhead that reached out black, spidery fingers into the sky. Close by stood a guard in a long grey-green woollen coat. He was protected from the elements by a guardhouse that matched the castle – round with an arched doorway. His breath was visible in what must be the icily cold night. A German shepherd stood obediently by his side.
Remembering their promise, Flossie pulled Violet close to the wall of the bridge that curved around to the left so that they were half-hidden by the guardhouse. As they took in their surroundings, it began to snow. Large flakes fell from the sky. Softly, quietly, beautifully. With the castle in the background it should have been a magical scene, and yet it wasn’t. Something about this place felt wrong. Very wrong. There was an undercurrent of bad feeling here that couldn’t be ignored.
Violet, who was sensitive to these sorts of feelings, had a pained expression on her face. “This is a bad place. Terrible things have happened here.” She closed her eyes, as if remembering, and when she opened them again, they seemed brighter than ever. “They tortured women here. Women they called witches. So many.” She frowned, focusing in on a point over the bridge. “And now, in the present, over there.” She pointed. “There are huts. They’re using people as slaves to rebuild the castle. All kinds of people – Jewish, Jehovah’s Witnesses, gypsies and others. I can hear their voices.” She covered her ears. “They wear stripes. They carry stones on their shoulders. There’s not enough to eat. Sometimes the children in the village give them bread, but it’s not enough. Never enough.” Violet’s head moved sharply to her right. Then she turned slowly in a full circle, her eyes closed again.
“What is it?” Flossie asked.
“We’re near the Externsteine. I can feel it.”
“The Externsteine? What’s that?”
“It’s a rock formation,” Violet explained. “Five sandstone pillars. It’s an ancient sacred site. Very powerful. I’ve told you before that I could feel things ever since I was a small child.”
Flossie remembered this. “That you could feel the energy of the twilight world, but you just couldn’t contact it? That no one could?”
“Yes. The Externsteine is like that. Its energy is palpable.”
A glossy black Mercedes convertible, the top closed, drew up to the end of the bridge and stopped at the guard in the guardhouse. The back window of the car opened and inside was a man dressed in a grey-green uniform, the distinctive insignia of the SS on his arm.
“Come on,” Flossie said. “Let’s go in and see if we can find out more.”
Chapter 18
In which Flossie and Violet learn more about the Ahnenerbe
Flossie and Violet followed the car along the bridge and then through a gatehouse that led into a strange triangular-shaped stone courtyard. Flossie realised the castle itself was formed in the shape of a triangle.
In the courtyard, another guard opened the door of the car, and the man inside alighted. He was tall and wore glasses and, by the way everyone around him saluted him with one arm outstretched, Flossie could tell he was important. Very important indeed.
He proceeded through a door held open by yet another guard and into the interior of the castle. He walked quickly, intent on his destination, and Flossie and Violet had to almost run to keep up. As they went, Flossie noticed the new wood panelling and the carpets and tapestries upon the walls. Violet touched one of the tapestries as they passed by.
Another bad feeling – Flossie could see the horror written on Violet’s face.
“This doesn’t belong here,” Violet said, her hand pulling back abruptly. “I think it might be stolen.”
They reached a doorway and the man passed through it, but Flossie grabbed Violet and held her back in case Viktor Brun was in the room. The pair checked the area carefully. When there was no sign of him, they entered.
It was a spectacular room, circular with twelve stone pillars around the outside and long, thin windows on the outer walls behind. A huge round oak table sat in the middle of the room with twelve seats, punctuated by a special one – a heavy wooden oak chair. It was carved with intricate designs that included swastikas. Only this seat remained empty. The other eleven seats were already taken. The men rose, saluting the man Flossie and Violet had followed inside the castle and he took his seat in the heavy oak chair.
Silence fell over the room.
The man turned to the person on his right and said something in German.
“He wants to know if Viktor Brun is here,” Violet said. “In the room.”
The man he’d asked, who was short and dark and much older than everyone else in the room, closed his eyes and began to whisper.
“Oh!” Violet gasped, hearing his words. “He’s a spiritualist.”
It took some time before the spiritualist opened his eyes and answered the question he’d been asked about Viktor Brun.
“He says he’s not here yet,” Violet translated.
“But he can’t really know that. Can he?”
Violet hesitated. “Normally I would say no, but the crystal skull might mean that Viktor Brun is more able to be sensed by the living.”
Flossie began to worry. “If he can sense him, won’t he be able to sense us as well?”
Violet raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps, but what could he do about it?”
Flossie’s eyes moved to the doorway. The spiritualist might not have been able to do anything about their presence, but Viktor Brun was of their world. “And Viktor Brun? Won’t he feel us?”
“It’s possible,” Violet answered, her mouth set in a grim line. “There are many dead here. Can’t you feel them?”
“No,” Flossie said. As a Turnkey, she was only attuned to the cares and needs of her interred.
“Don’t fret.” Violet placed a hand on Flossie’s arm. “I don’t think Viktor Brun is the most spiritual of men and I’ll be able to sense him when he gets close. It does sound as if they are expecting him though.”
Flossie moved from foot to foot. “What are they talking about?” she asked Violet, who was listening in again.
“Nothing of importance,” she said. “
Mostly about the changes that have been made to the castle. While we’re waiting, perhaps we should search through those papers. They might tell us more.” Violet’s quick eyes had spotted a large pile sitting next to one of the men on the table.
Flossie ran over to the spot. With a whoosh, she pulled the pile into the twilight. She took them back over to Violet, who sat with them on the floor, her dress pooling about her. She began to flick through the pages – each one with its official swastika on top.
Flossie hovered over Violet, though she wasn’t much use, as the documents were in German. She must have seemed restless, because Violet’s eyes met hers. “Why not investigate? There could be something we’ve missed. I’ll listen out for anything interesting.”
Flossie started out around the large circular table as the men kept talking. As she walked, she eyed each of them, one at a time, frowning as she did so. It was odd – this table. Circular, with twelve seats and situated in a room with twelve pillars. It was as if they were playing at King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table.
Flossie continued around the table until she reached Violet. She watched as Violet worked her way through the papers. Flossie noticed that Violet was flicking two particular sheets of paper forwards, then backwards again.
“Flossie!” Violet said. “Look at this.”
Violet had unfolded a very large piece of paper, which Flossie studied. She didn’t need to speak German to know what she was seeing.
“Building plans?”
“Yes. On a grand scale.” Violet’s finger traced the outside of the plans. “Huge walls and eighteen towers around the outside. Some of the other papers say it’s to be the ‘Centre of the New World’ following their final victory.”
Flossie bristled. “Fairly sure of themselves, aren’t they?”
But Violet was intent on the papers again, flicking faster this time, pausing only momentarily to scan each one for information as she went, until she came upon a series of papers that saw her slow down and gasp.
The Turnkey Page 7