It was midafternoon by the time the team of indentured labourers from the local village, beads of sweat glistening on their brown skin, hacked their way far enough into the dense secondary undergrowth surrounding the ball court.
‘Maestro!’
Levi moved forward but von Heißen and Father Ehrlichmann both shouldered him out of the way.
‘There! Look at the shapes,’ von Heißen enthused.
The local villagers, the modern descendants of the Maya, had uncovered the first of several grisly rows of skulls. Macabre, eyeless sockets stared at the intruders. Levi shivered. The heads remained impaled on the moss-covered rack, just as the original inhabitants of the city had left them more than a thousand years before. To disturb them now seemed to invite the retribution Roberto had warned of, Levi thought. Not far away, a large masacuata stirred at the sounds of its territory being invaded. The boa constrictor was the largest snake in Central America, and this one measured well over five metres.
Von Heißen ran his hands over the first of the skulls. Centuries ago, the racks had been drenched in drying blood, the stench of death heavy in the air, but now every skull was creamy smooth and yellowed with age. ‘Look at the size of them! Aryan!’
Father Ehrlichmann reached into his canvas satchel for a pair of sliding callipers. ‘An index of around seventy-five,’ he announced after he’d finished measuring the first skull. ‘Unusually broad, but I think Reichsführer Himmler will be pleased.’
Again, Levi said nothing. Ehrlichmann might be an acknowledged authority on the dubious science of craniometry, he thought, but like von Heißen, Ehrlichmann seemed unaware of ancient Mayan customs.
A week later, the Junkers returned on the first of its weekly resupply runs. Levi leaned back in the canvas chair outside his tent and looked towards the skies, his spirits lifting. Perhaps there would be a letter from Ramona. The aircraft circled the clearing in the jungle and then disappeared before lining up for its final approach.
Inside the plane, il Signor Alberto Felici tugged nervously at his large black moustache. Beads of sweat ran down his pale, pudgy face. He detested flying, and the DC-2 flight from Rome to Guatemala City, followed by the flight from Guatemala City in the Junkers, had done nothing to lessen his apprehension. Felici maintained a fierce grip on the armrest, but he needn’t have worried. Under the patient tutelage of Oberst Krueger, Leutnant Müller eased the Junkers onto the rough strip, turned at the far end and taxied back. He cut the power and the propellers phutted to a stop in quick succession.
Levi watched as a bald-headed, portly little man dressed in a fawn safari suit and carrying a large leather briefcase descended from the Junkers. Von Heißen and Father Ehrlichmann were waiting to welcome him. They disappeared into von Heißen’s tent and Levi wondered who would take the trouble to travel to such a remote part of the world, but he was not left wondering for long. The visitor, accompanied by Father Ehrlichmann, emerged almost immediately and they both headed in Levi’s direction.
‘Il Signor Felici is an advisor to Pope Pius XI,’ Father Ehrlichmann enthused after he’d made the introductions, ‘and he’s here on a fact-finding mission at the personal direction of Cardinal Pacelli, the Cardinal Secretary of State.’
‘Why would the Vatican be interested in the Maya?’ Levi asked politely after Ehrlichmann had left.
‘May I call you Levi?’ Felici asked smoothly. Levi smiled and nodded. ‘And I’d be grateful if we could keep our conversations confidential: the Nazi machine is not always to be trusted.’
Levi nodded again. Perhaps, at last, he had a friend in court.
‘The possible existence of a Maya codex has not gone unnoticed in the Vatican. Bishop de Landa’s burning of the Mayan libraries was a terrible loss to civilisation, and although the Vatican will never publicly admit to any involvement, privately, the support for this expedition is in recognition of a grave injustice.’
‘It will take a lot more than that to make amends, Signor Felici. Imagine the outcry if the Maya had invaded Rome and burned all the public libraries and art museums!’
‘It’s been a painful lesson,’ Felici agreed, ‘and one that should not be forgotten, but in the meantime I’d very much appreciate a briefing on your progress.’
‘What do you expect this codex to contain?’ Felici asked after Levi had dismissed the Nazi’s craniometry theories and brought the papal envoy up to speed on the expedition’s findings.
‘The Nazis think it will provide proof of a link between the Aryans and the Maya, but I think they’re wrong. The Maya were amongst the greatest astronomers of the ancient world, and from my study of their hieroglyphics, I’m convinced they’re trying to warn us of a rare planetary alignment that will occur in 2012. It won’t affect you or I, of course, but anyone who’s alive in 2012 will need to prepare against the full force of the cosmos. And there may be a link between the warning in the codex and the warnings of the Virgin at Fátima, which makes me wonder why the three secrets the Virgin entrusted to the children at Fátima have been suppressed. Are they just a threat to the papacy, or do they speak of the annihilation of our civilisation?’
‘I wasn’t aware they had been suppressed,’ Felici replied, feigning surprise.
‘The Maya predicted the Marian appearance at Fátima, a thousand years before the secrets were transcribed,’ Levi continued, searching Felici’s face for any reaction.
‘How?’
Levi smiled enigmatically. ‘They left a warning on a stela which was found not far from here. We still have a lot to learn about the Maya, Signor Felici. We’re only scratching the surface. Astronomers have now confirmed their predictions for 2012, down to the last second. If humankind is to have any chance of responding, it’s vital this codex be found.’
Von Heißen poured another generous shot of whisky into his tumbler.
‘Whisky, Signor?’ von Heißen offered Felici, who had returned to von Heißen’s tent.
‘Thank you, Herr Sturmbannführer. You’re well set up out here.’
‘I like to think so, and, please, it’s Karl,’ von Heißen replied, conscious of Himmler’s dictum to treat the papal envoy well. ‘So, what did the Professor have to say?’
‘He’s convinced the lost Maya Codex exists, although I wouldn’t trust him, Karl. He is, after all, a Jew,’ Felici intoned, raising his glass. ‘Prost.’
‘Yes, but don’t worry, we’re watching him very closely. Prost! Did he give you any idea what the codex might contain?’
Felici shook his head. ‘Other than being convinced it’s here somewhere, he was very vague, Karl. But if he does find it, I’d be very grateful if we could discuss it before any release to the wider world.’
‘Of course. We’re on the same side here. And how are things at the Vatican? I gather the Pontiff is not well.’
‘Deteriorating rapidly, I’m afraid,’ Felici agreed.
‘Any word on his likely replacement?’
‘Are you a betting man, Karl?’
Von Heißen smiled. ‘I’ve been known to have the odd wager, Signor.’
‘Then I’d put your money on the Cardinal Secretary of State, Eugenio Pacelli. If Pacelli’s elected, it’ll be a great boost for German–Vatican relations … The Cardinal Secretary of State is quite well disposed towards your Führer.’ Felici was stretching the truth a little. Pacelli, he knew, had serious reservations, but the concordat between Hitler and the Vatican had greatly strengthened the power of the Holy Church in Germany, and Pacelli saw the Nazis as offering the best hope against the advancing tide of Communism.
‘We should stay in touch,’ von Heißen opined, as he farewelled Felici from his tent. ‘Your proposal for a new Vatican Bank sounds very interesting. I’ve received word from Reichsführer Himmler himself that once this expedition is concluded, I will most likely be posted to Mauthausen in Austria. If you’re ever in Vienna, I know some excellent restaurants.’
Felici nodded, slightly unsteady on his feet. ‘I’m in Vienna two or
three times a year on business, so I’ll look forward to that. Gute Nacht und danke schön.’ Felici weaved his way towards his own tent, reflecting on the powerful forces gathering to Italy’s north, and von Heißen’s impeccable connections to the highest levels of the Reich.
Von Heißen reached for his diary and began to record the day’s events in characteristic detail.
Levi felt frustrated. In the nearly three months they’d been at Tikal, despite having sent several messages via the local villagers, Roberto Arana had not made contact. Levi leaned back in his canvas chair and looked out through the tent flap across the red-dirt airstrip. The day before, he’d received word to join the elders in the local village for a meal, and he wondered if Arana might at last appear tonight. In the time they’d been here, 129 skulls had been collected from around the ball court. Father Ehrlichmann had meticulously measured each one and made copious notes. And in that time Levi had also received several letters from Ramona, letters he was convinced had been opened. Levi was more homesick than ever for her touch, her laughter, and he worried about her safety and the safety of the children. He re-read the last paragraph of the letter he’d received earlier in the week.
I hope you won’t be away too much longer, darling. There are more Brownshirts on the streets than ever now, and Hitler is making more threats. I’ve sent you copies of Wiener Zeitung this week, and as you can see from the headlines, our own chancellor is stoically resisting the Nazis, but we are all wondering for how long. I miss you terribly, my sweet. I long for your touch.
Your Ramona. Always. xx
Levi knew he was running out of time. He’d thoroughly investigated Pyramids I, II, III, and IV, but without success. In Pyramid IV, he’d discovered a secret niche, much like the one where he’d discovered the male figurine in Pyramid I all those years ago, but the niche was empty. Had one of the figurines already been discovered by someone else? In the past week, he’d attempted to examine the small room beneath the decorative comb on top of Pyramid V, but each time he’d been disturbed by either von Heißen or Father Ehrlichmann. It was as if his every move was being watched. Somehow he would have to find a way to examine Pyramid V late at night, after von Heißen and Ehrlichmann had retired.
Levi looked at his watch: 5 p.m. Dusk was only an hour away. He would pay a courtesy visit to von Heißen’s tent on his way to meet the village elders.
‘Well, Herr Professor. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ von Heißen sneered. The level in the bottle of Glenfiddich, one of several dozen von Heißen had insisted be included in the cargo, was well down.
‘Just to let you know I’m sharing a meal with the villagers tonight. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.’
‘Why do you want to eat with the hired help?’ Von Heißen refilled his metal tumbler.
‘If you are to understand Mayan hieroglyphics, Sturmbannführer, you must first understand the culture, and in any case I consider it an honour to share a meal with these people. They have much to teach us.’
‘Well, that’s your view, Weizman. If you want to go and eat beans and bananas, I’m not going to stop you. But you might remind the head honcho down there that I’ve yet to see the young woman I pointed out to him. Her name was Itzy something or other …’ Von Heißen was already slurring his words. ‘We Germans are the descendants of the master race, Weizman, remind him of that, too.’
Levi turned on his heel, his anger rising. In von Heißen and Himmler’s twisted world, ancient skulls could somehow provide proof of the master race, while the modern Maya descendants somehow fell outside of their bizarre mathematical calculations. Levi strode across the dirt airstrip and when he reached the jungle track that led to the village, he stopped and took several deep breaths. It was pointless enough arguing with von Heißen when he was sober, he reminded himself, let alone when he was full of piss and wind.
The village was nearly three kilometres from the ruins, but Levi had only gone about half a kilometre when he sensed he was being followed. He turned to look back, peering past the heavy leaves and foliage hanging over the jungle track, but apart from a troop of howler monkeys above and the throaty squawks and screams of a pair of red macaws ahead, the track seemed deserted. Half an hour later he reached the river. The water ran swiftly, and the roar of the falls grew louder as Levi approached the rickety rope bridge that spanned the crossing point. It was hard to see in the eerie half-light, but again, Levi sensed movement a hundred metres or so along the track behind him. He moved off the track and waited.
7
VIENNA, MARCH 1938
It was still dark when Chancellor von Schuschnigg’s phone dragged him from the depths of an exhausted sleep. The Austrian Chancellor groped for the bedside-lamp switch and looked at his watch: 5.30 a.m.
‘Schuschnigg.’
‘Es tut mir leid Sie zu wecken, Herr Bundeskanzler,’ the Austrian Chief of Police apologised, ‘but the Germans have closed the border at Salzburg. All rail traffic has been halted and I have reports German troops are massing on the other side.’
Von Schuschnigg thanked him and hung up. Wearily he swung his feet out of bed and headed for the bathroom. An hour later his black Mercedes turned into the Ballhausplatz. A light dusting of snow glistened in the headlights.
Herr Seyss-Inquart, a young pro-Nazi lawyer, was waiting for him in the otherwise eerily quiet Chancellery.
‘It was a grave mistake to take a plebiscite to the people, Herr Bundeskanzler.’
‘The people were asked whether or not they wanted a free, independent Austria, Ja oder Nein,’ von Schuschnigg responded angrily.
‘Hitler is furious. He sees it as an act of betrayal, a broken promise.’
‘You seem to have a direct line to Berlin,’ von Schuschnigg observed icily.
‘These are difficult times. I’m merely trying to achieve what is best for the Austrian people.’
‘We’re all trying to achieve that. And as far as promises go, I seem to remember we had an agreement with Herr Hitler that he would respect Austrian independence.’
‘He will still hold to that, Herr Bundeskanzler, but on one condition.’
‘Which is?’
‘You are to resign and I am to take your place,’ Seyss-Inquart replied bluntly, his face inscrutable.
‘Anything else?’ von Schuschnigg growled.
‘I can assure you such a move will save a lot of bloodshed. It is for the good of the Austrian people and for them alone.’
‘That is your view. I will give you my answer directly.’
The young women in the basement of the main telephone exchange in Vienna were keenly aware that something was afoot. For three hours, in a flurry of activity, they’d connected the President and the Bundeskanzler to some of the most important people in Austria and Europe. By early afternoon, von Schuschnigg and President Miklas had both given way to the inevitable.
Von Schuschnigg stared pensively out his office window at the snowy courtyard. Perhaps the agreement to restore some prominent Nazi officers to their posts in the police force had been a mistake, he thought grimly. The Chief of Police had warned him the government could no longer rely on its own police force. The army would fight, but von Schuschnigg knew they would eventually be overwhelmed. The cost in young Austrian lives would be horrific. It would be better, he’d assured the President, to accede to the German Führer’s wishes.
Her boutique devoid of customers, and she herself fearful for the safety of both Levi and her children, Ramona listened to the radio with growing disbelief.
‘The roads are lined with huge crowds anticipating the arrival of the Führer,’ the announcer crowed. ‘In every town the swastika of the Third Reich flies regally from the Rathaus and other community buildings.’
Hitler’s massive six-wheel Mercedes crossed the Inn River at Braunau at 3.50 p.m. on the twelfth of March, flanked by a large motorcycle escort and a motorised armed guard. The convoy sped beneath the towering snow-capped Alps, slowing at the towns.
/> ‘People are cheering and waving to the German Chancellor as he heads towards Linz, and then on to Vienna,’ the radio announcer continued, ‘where over a half a million people are expected to gather in the Heldenplatz, the Heroes’ Square.’
How could the Austrian people be so stupid, Ramona wondered incredulously.
Hitler’s driver eased the Mercedes into the Heldenplatz behind a German infantry band playing ‘In Treu Feste’. Hitler stood in the open back and raised his hand. The crowd went wild.
‘Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!’
The beat was primeval, echoing ominously off the historic walls of the Hapsburg Palace. Huge red-and-black swastika banners flew from the palace, the Rathaus, the balcony of the Imperial Hotel and the Burgtheater. The crowd was still chanting as Hitler walked onto the palace balcony, placed both hands on the edge and looked down onto the sea of people below. Hitler was home. He moved in front of the microphone and held up his hand. The vast crowd fell silent.
‘Years ago I went forth from this country, and I bore within me precisely the same profession of faith which today fills my heart! Judge the depth of my emotion when after so many years I have been able to bring that profession of faith to its fulfilment.’ His stirring words echoed around the Heldenplatz. Young women wept as they chanted and a rising hysteria gripped the crowd.
‘Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil!’
The beat never lessened and Hitler stood motionless, triumphant over the city where, a quarter of a century before, he’d wandered the streets unshaven, his hair matted, a filthy black overcoat his only protection against the biting snows of winter, selling his postcard paintings on the street for a few paltry pfennigs, begging at the soup kitchen on the banks of the Danube while the patrons of the Burgtheater sipped champagne and delighted in the works of Mozart and Haydn and the waltzes of Johann Strauss. Vienna. It was the jewel in the crown of Austria. It was here Hitler had studied the Jews, and the more he’d studied, the more he’d come to detest the vile race. They were like maggots in a rotting body. There wasn’t any form of filth, prostitution or white-slave traffic they weren’t involved in. Innocent Christian girls were seduced by repulsive, crooked-legged Jew bastards. The Jews were the evil spirits leading his people astray. They must be destroyed, he mused. And they would be. Soon Adolf Eichmann would arrive in Vienna to implement his instructions.
THE MAYA CODEX Page 6