‘Touché. But you know, Anna . . . May I call you Anna?’
‘I can think of no reason why not.’
‘And you must call me Henri. I would cheerfully risk my life just to – well . . .’
‘Have sex with me.’
‘Ah . . .’ He flushed.
‘Business before pleasure, Henri. There is a great deal of money to be counted, and converted. I think you should begin with that.’
*
Himmler studied the receipt. ‘This is very satisfactory. This means there is more than a million US dollars in that account. Is that not splendid, Anna?’
‘Indeed it is, Herr Reichsführer. Is the account in your name?’ Anna asked, using her most innocent voice.
‘No, no. You know nothing about international finance, my dear girl. One does not use names. One uses numbers.’
‘But you know what the number is.’
‘Well, of course I do.’
‘And so does Herr Laurent?’
‘Naturally.’
‘And no one else?’
‘Well, I suppose one or two of his most trusted clerks also know the number. But they don’t know to whom it belongs. Only Laurent and I know that. And you, of course.’
‘But I do not know the number.’
‘You will, when the time is right. Now tell me, you had no trouble, this time, I hope?’
‘No trouble at all, sir.’
‘And did Laurent bring up the matter of the Geneva affair?’
‘We concentrated on the business in hand, sir.’
‘Excellent. I told you he was an utterly reliable fellow. Now you go home to bed. In all the circumstances, I think you could take the weekend off. Spend tomorrow in bed. I will see you on Monday.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
Anna left the apartment, smiled at Albrecht – they were getting to know each other quite well – and rode down in the lift. She was, in fact, quite tired. Laurent had been in no hurry to leave. In fact, as he had an office in Lucerne, into which he had been able to pay the money immediately, and a flat in which there was a complete change of clothes as well as toiletries, he had stayed the whole two days. They had lunched together, then made love all afternoon, then dined together. Then she had gone with him to his flat and spent the night, and the same pattern had been repeated. He had been quite insatiable in his desire, almost reminiscent of Ewfim Chalyapov in Moscow over the winter of 1940–41; the difference was that where Chalyapov’s love-making had been all aggressive, and often painful, masculinity, Henri had been a perfect gentleman from beginning to end. He had been in awe of her, certainly, as much, she felt, for her reputation as for her beauty and sexuality when aroused, but he had never let it get in the way of their essential equality, at least in bed.
In this he had reminded her of Joe Andrews, and had been totally unlike Freddie von Steinberg, who knew nothing of her true background – so far as she was aware – and yet had been a trembling emotional mess. She refused to compare any of them with Clive, because that was something entirely different. Clive was her psychological haven far more than a sexual partner. But the fact was that seeing Clive once in two years was not enough when her life was being lived on an ever-increasing level of tension and potential catastrophe. So, after all, she was turning to her sex for relief, something that would once have been unthinkable for a convent schoolgirl.
Or was she actually, cold-bloodedly, creating that elite band of supporters who would die for her? They all claimed that they would, but did she dare believe any of them? And waiting outside the door of the lift was another would-be Romeo, perhaps the most dangerous of them all, but also possibly the most valuable. ‘I assume the Reichsführer is pleased?’ he inquired as he escorted her to the car.
‘I think so.’
‘And I would be completely out of court if I asked what is it you do on these missions?’
Anna settled herself on the cushions. ‘Yes, you would. But, seeing as how it is you, Hellmuth, I can tell you that I meet people and receive certain information, and bring it back to the Reichsführer. As the information is in code, and I do not have the key, I’m afraid I cannot tell you more than that. So you see, it is all very boring.’
‘And never dangerous, I hope.’
‘This last trip certainly was not.’
‘And may I ask if you have decided to accept my invitation for tomorrow night?’
‘I thought I had already done that. I am looking forward to it.’
‘Excellent.’ The car had stopped. ‘Then may I come up for a nightcap?’
Anna considered. She really was very tired. And she had agreed to go out with him tomorrow night. But having adopted this course of action, she had no intention of offending him in any way: she had put him off too often in the past. ‘A nightcap,’ she said. ‘If I am to be at all bright tomorrow, I must get to bed.’
‘Ten minutes more of your company, Anna, and I will be a happy man.’
She led him into the lift, and he took her in his arms. She allowed him that, and a kiss, which was reassuringly tender. She wondered if he knew what she really did. But it seemed that everyone in the Secret Service knew that.
‘Do you realize that you are every man’s dream?’ he whispered.
‘But not all at the same time.’ She disengaged herself as the lift stopped, and led him across the floor to her door. But she had only just inserted her latchkey when the door opened for her. She stared at Birgit, who had obviously been waiting on the other side.
‘Oh, Countess,’ Birgit said, and looked past her at Essermann’s black uniform. ‘Oh, Countess! Ohhh . . .’ her gasp ended in a sigh and her knees gave way.
‘Birgit!’ Anna cried, catching her just before she hit the floor. Her brain raced. Birgit had never had a moment’s ill health since coming to work for her, nor was she given to fainting fits. And that this was not real was instantly revealed by Birgit’s fingers on her arm; the first squeeze could have been convulsive, but the next two were a signal.
Essermann knelt beside them. ‘What is the matter with her?’
‘I do not know. She has these fainting fits . . .’
‘We had better take her inside. Let me help you.’
Another surreptitious squeeze.
‘I think she needs seeing to,’ Anna said. ‘Hellmuth, would you go back down and tell the concierge to ring for an ambulance?’
Essermann hesitated. ‘You mean to leave her lying there?’
‘I think it may be best. We are always being told at first-aid class that it is often dangerous to cart people about when they suddenly collapse. It could be something internal.’
‘Oh. Ah.’
‘I will stay with her until you get back.’
‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
He returned to the lift and the door closed. ‘Tell me,’ Anna said.
Birgit’s eyes opened. ‘Count von Steinberg . . .’
‘Oh, my God! Here?’
‘He insisted upon waiting for you, Countess. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘So you gave him a drink, I suppose. All right, Birgit. Thank you for warning me.’ She frowned. But it would just have been a case of one boyfriend running into another.
‘The Count seems very agitated, Countess. And the Colonel is SD, like you. I didn’t know if – well . . .’
Anna kissed her. ‘You are very thoughtful, Birgit. You and I must have a little chat.’
They had had a little chat once before, when Joe Andrews had engineered things so that she and Clive could have a weekend together in his Virginia home. She had explained that Clive was really another SD agent who she had been sent to the States to contact and receive information from. Birgit had become wildly excited about being allowed to share such a secret. Now her instincts had made her feel that Anna would not like these two men to meet, at least in her apartment. Was that loyalty, intuition, or presumption . . . or something far more sinister?
She realized that the prevail
ing paranoia of Nazi society was beginning to rub off on her, and stood up. ‘In the meantime, stay just like that until Colonel Essermann returns.’
‘What is the matter with me, Countess?’
‘You just came over faint. Lots of people do, from time to time. It may have been something you ate. You will have to let the ambulance people poke you around for a little while; then you can make a complete recovery.’
She squeezed Birgit’s hand, and went into the drawing room, where Steinberg was looking anxious. ‘I heard a man’s voice . . .’
‘Yes, you did,’ Anna told him. ‘He is a colonel in the SD, and he is coming back.’
‘He is your lover!’ It was an accusation.
‘Of course he is not’ – yet, at any rate. ‘Now tell me what in the name of God are you doing here?’
‘I had to see you. Something has happened.’
‘Shit!’ She could hear Essermann’s voice. ‘Get in the bedroom, quickly.’ She pushed him through the door, held him close for a moment. ‘Into the wardrobe,’ she whispered. ‘And stay there until I let you out.’ She closed the door and ran into the bathroom, delving into the cupboard above the basin to find a bottle of smelling salts, and returned to the drawing room as Essermann entered.
‘Anna?’
‘I was looking for this.’ Anna waved the bottle at him.
‘I think she is coming to. This is a lovely room. But . . .’ He pointed at the obviously used glass: there was still a trace of liquid in the bottom. He picked it up and sniffed. ‘Schnapps! I think your maid was drinking while you were away.’
Anna snapped her fingers. ‘Of course! The little wretch! I shall whip her.’
‘I would like to help you. I have called an ambulance for no reason.’
‘Oh, Hellmuth . . .’ She rested her hand on his arm. ‘I am so sorry. Believe me, I will make her squeal. You had better go down and cancel the call.’
‘I can do that from here. You have a telephone.’
‘Yes, but the ambulance will already be on its way. You will have to meet the men in the lobby and tell them it is a false alarm.’
‘Oh. Ah. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I will come back up.’
‘Hellmuth!’ She was still holding his arm. ‘You are a dear, sweet man. And I would love you to come back up. But I am absolutely exhausted, and I so want to enjoy tomorrow night. Could we leave it until then?’
‘Leave what?’
‘Whatever you wanted to do tonight.’
He gazed at her for several seconds. ‘Is that a promise?’
‘Of course it is a promise.’
He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth. ‘I adore you.’
‘You will adore me more after tomorrow night,’ she promised.
Another kiss, then he released her and returned to the lobby. ‘And this?’ He nudged Birgit with the toe of his boot. She gave a little squeal and sat up.
‘Oh, I am going to deal with her,’ Anna said. ‘I will beat her till she bleeds.’
‘Countess?!’ Birgit rose to her knees in alarm.
Anna pointed at the lounge. ‘Get in there!’
Birgit gulped, scrambled to her feet, and hurried through the door.
Essermann kissed Anna again. ‘You are even more beautiful when you are angry. Terrifying, but beautiful. Will you ever be angry with me?’
‘I should hope not,’ Anna assured him.
Birgit was shivering as Anna closed the door. ‘Countess? Are you really going to beat me?’
‘Of course I am not. It was necessary to get rid of him. But when he comes tomorrow night, be sure to limp and act as if you are in pain. Believe me, Birgit, I am enormously grateful to you. Now go to bed.’
‘But . . . the Count . . .?’
‘I am going to deal with him now.’
She returned to the bedroom, opened the wardrobe door. He almost fell into her arms. ‘Anna—’
‘Ssh.’ She held him close, whispered into his ear. ‘Don’t speak. Take off your shoes and your jacket.’
He obeyed, started to release his tie.
Anna shook her head.
‘But . . . aren’t we . . .?’
‘No, we are not. Get into bed.’
He slid beneath the sheet. Anna took off her own pink jacket, kicked off her shoes, and got in beside him. His arms went round her to hold her close. ‘Anna—’
‘I am not in the mood for sex,’ she pointed out. ‘Tell me what you are doing here, uninvited.’
‘While you are bringing an SD officer home to your bed,’ he said bitterly.
‘What I do, and who I do it with, is none of your business. I happen to sleep with an SD officer every night of the year: me. Now tell me why you are here.’
‘We have had a setback, which could be serious.’
She refused to allow herself to be agitated. ‘Tell me.’
‘I told you I thought I had found someone who would be prepared to act for us.’
‘And you were mistaken.’
‘Not in the man. He was prepared to commit murder. But when I told him who his target was to be, he refused. He is a staff officer in the Luftwaffe, and frequently takes reports to the Führer. He agrees with us that the situation is serious, but then said he could not consider breaking his oath of fealty.’
‘Who did he think you were after?’
‘Göring. He, and I gather many other Luftwaffe personnel, regard Göring as responsible for our defeats in the air, especially the Hamburg catastrophe in July.’
‘And he supposed that assassinating Göring could change that?’
‘I think there is a personal element involved.’
‘So what happened when he declined?’
‘When I mentioned Hitler, he became quite agitated. He said he did not wish to speak with me again, and went off.’
‘You mean you let him go, after confiding your plans to him?’
‘Well, what was I to do?’
My God! Anna thought. Now what am I to do? She had been becoming quite fond of this man, who was really only a boy stumbling through an adult world he did not understand. ‘I need to know this man’s name.’
‘Conrad Freiling.’
‘And you say he is a discontented Luftwaffe officer. What rank?’
‘Major.’
‘Why is he discontented?’
‘He was recently passed over for promotion to colonel. He is sure the recommendation was quashed by Göring personally. They apparently were once at a party together and had a public difference of opinion.’
‘Hm. All right. Now, you told him there was a plot to assassinate Hitler. Did you tell him who was in the plot?’
‘Of course I did not. I am not a fool.’
You could have fooled me, Anna thought. ‘But you must have given him some idea that the plot would succeed – after Hitler’s death, I mean.’
‘I told him we had the support of two very senior and important figures in the Reich.’
‘But no names and no sexes?’
‘Good God, no.’
‘I see. Now Freddie, you do realize that you have taken a very grave risk. You must now have the courage to see it through.’
‘I am not afraid.’
‘I am sure you are not. But if this man betrays you to the Gestapo and they interrogate you, courage will not come into it, because you will soon be unable to tell right from wrong, good from bad, truth from falsehood. Please believe me.’
‘What are you saying?’
Anna swung her legs out of bed, went to her shoulder bag, and took out the cyanide capsule she had taken from Belinda’s bag. She knew that, much as she liked him, she should do a Bartoli and end it now. But she had never executed a man with whom she had had willing sex, and anyway . . . there was a chance . . .
She lay beside him again. ‘Listen very carefully. You have made a very serious mistake. I am going to see if I can sort it out. If I cannot, and this man Freiling goes to the Gestapo and tells them what yo
u proposed, you cannot afford to be arrested. As I warned you, mere strength, whether mental or physical, will not be sufficient to sustain you.’
‘You think Freiling may do that?’
‘Yes, I do. We can only hope that he has not yet done it. In which case I may be in time.’
‘But . . . if they arrest me . . .’
‘I have said, you cannot allow that to happen, or every one of your associates will be executed.’ Including me, she thought.
‘But . . . how do I avoid arrest?’
‘You take this.’
She placed the capsule in his hand, and he raised it to look at it. ‘This . . .’
‘It would be unfortunate. But at least you will know that once you bite that you will never feel pain again. Nor will you betray your friends.’
He raised his head to stare at her. ‘How did you get this?’
‘I am an SD agent. I sometimes have to travel on secret business. Thus I am issued with a capsule. I understand what I have to do if I am ever captured by the other side.’
‘But . . . we are working for them.’
‘I work for the Reich, Freddie, and so do you. I have said I am going to do everything I can to sort out this mess. But if I fail, you must not let your people down.’
‘Oh, Anna . . .’
‘Promise me.’
‘Yes. Yes, I promise. But Anna, as we are here, together, for perhaps the last time—’
She kissed him. ‘Do you seriously think you could get it up? Listen, as soon as it is safe to do so we will get together again. Until then, trust me. As I am going to trust you.’
*
So, Anna reflected, as had been the case with Heydrich, everything was again sitting in her lap and, again as with Heydrich, there was no one to whom she could turn for either assistance or advice. She had to rely entirely on her skill at manipulating men. Even those men who considered themselves to be super-intelligent.
‘Why, Anna!’ Goebbels exclaimed. ‘How very nice to see you. Do you know, I was just considering sending for you.’
Anna sat on that so-well-remembered settee and crossed her knees. ‘I had expected you to send for me before, Herr Doktor. Or did I disappoint you?’
Angel in Jeopardy: The thrilling sequel to Angel of Vengeance (Anna Fehrbach Book 4) Page 17