Angel in Red: The thrilling sequel to Angel From Hell (Anna Fehrbach Book 2)

by Christopher Nicole

  Anna smiled at him. ‘You will have to ask him that, Herr Groener.’ She decided to drop Heinz into it, as that was the easiest solution for her. ‘He arranged for the posting.’

  Groener’s nostrils twitched. ‘You have known Herr Meissenbach a long time?’

  ‘It seems that I have known him a very long time,’ Anna replied, being absolutely truthful.

  ‘I see. Well, I shall keep an eye on you, and Herr Meissenbach. We do not wish any scandal. I assume Frau Meissenbach is also an old friend?’

  Anna smiled again. ‘Wives are never close friends with their husband’s female aides, Herr Groener.’

  *

  It was disconcerting to feel that she was regarded with such suspicion by her own people, but she could do nothing more than ignore them, especially as she had not yet found herself in a position to commence her mission. But it was Groener who came to her at the beginning of December and placed an envelope on her desk. It was addressed to the Countess von Widerstand and marked Top Secret. ‘From Berlin,’ he announced.

  Anna turned the envelope over to look at the seal, which appeared unbroken.

  ‘I have not opened it, Countess. But I am entitled to ask you to inform me of the contents.’

  Anna broke the seal and took out the single sheet of paper; it bore Heydrich’s personal crest.

  I am disappointed not to have heard from you. The situation changes every day, and while I recommended patience, that is now no longer possible. You must make contact with your quarry by Christmas. Inform me the moment this is done. Heydrich.

  ‘Well?’ Groener inquired.

  Anna struck a match and carefully burned the letter.

  ‘What the hell . . .?’

  ‘This is a personal message from General Heydrich to me. If you feel entitled to know what was in it, I suggest you contact the General and ask for a transcript.’

  He glared at her for several seconds, then turned and left the room.

  *

  Clearly Heydrich was growing impatient. So was she, but her impatience was more to discover why Clive had not turned up – and, if his visit had been cancelled, why no one from the British Embassy had attempted to make contact. However, satisfying Heydrich had to take priority, only she did not see what she could do about it.

  It was Meissenbach who inadvertently provided the answer. He had not been making life any easier for her. As Greta was now firmly on dry land, as it were, she no longer took sleeping pills, and thus he found it impossible to get away at night. It was obviously even more difficult for them to get together during the day. He came to her office regularly, which was reasonable, but here again he always found Marlene in situ. It was only a few days after Heydrich’s letter that he paid one of his calls.

  ‘Apparently Count von Schulenburg is very proud of the Embassy’s Christmas parties. I would like you to handle the invitations for this year’s. It’s very simple. It seems we invite exactly who we invited last year.’

  Alarm bells immediately started jangling in Anna’s brain.

  Meissenbach was now bending over her shoulder, as if continuing his instructions. ‘Can’t you get rid of her?’ he whispered. ‘I don’t understand what she is doing here in the first place. Do you need an assistant?’

  ‘My superiors feel that it is necessary.’

  ‘For what purpose? Don’t tell me she is also a professional assassin?’

  ‘I would not call her a professional anything. Neither would I call myself an assassin. You should think of me as a bodyguard.’

  ‘I only wish to think of you as the most desirable woman in the world. Anna, I’ve got to have you. I am going mad.’

  For the time being he had to be humoured. She squeezed his hand. ‘Let us see what can be done.’ The idea was crystallising; everything she sought, on both fronts, could be dropping into her lap. All that was required was to keep this lovesick oaf happy. ‘Marlene, would you go down to the Records Office and find me the guest list for last year’s Christmas party?’

  ‘Of course, Countess.’ Marlene hurried from the room.

  ‘I cannot offer you more than fifteen minutes,’ she said.

  ‘I can prolong it,’ Meissenbach said, and picked up her telephone to dial the Records Office. ‘Ah, Bluther? Will you come up to my office, please? There is something I wish to discuss with you. Thank you.’ He replaced the phone. ‘It will take Bluther ten minutes to get up to the office, where Frau Estner will tell him that I am not there. She does not know where I have gone. He will probably wait for at least five minutes to see if I return, and then he will go back to Records. By that time Fraulein Gehrig will be waiting to access the document she requires. Then they will have to find it before she can return here. I would say we have half an hour.’

  ‘You are an organisational genius. But . . .’ Anna looked around her. In addition to the filing cabinets, and two tables with typewriters on them, the office contained two desks, each with a reasonably comfortable but not very large chair, as well as two straight chairs. ‘I do not have much to offer you.’

  ‘You have everything I wish,’ he declared, sweeping blotting paper and pens from her desk. Then she was stretched across it, her dress around her waist, her cami-knickers pulled aside, and he was inside her. The things I do for Germany, she reflected. Or was it for England? But it enhanced her image as a woman who could not resist the offer of sex, and she felt that might come in very handy later on.

  *

  They were again fully dressed, and her desk restored, before Marlene returned, even if Heinz was still breathing somewhat heavily.

  Anna glanced down the invitation list. ‘These are all Russians and Americans.’

  ‘Well, we are in Russia. And the Americans are neutral.’

  ‘They are such boring people. So are the Yanks. Don’t you think it might be rather amusing to invite a few people from the British Embassy?’

  Meissenbach raised his eyebrows. ‘You wish to invite British Embassy officials to come here?’

  ‘Why not? They are not likely to arrive with guns in hand, shooting at us.’

  ‘But we are still at war.’

  ‘Isn’t the war just about over? What military activity has there been, except at sea or in the air, since July?’

  ‘They are certainly shooting at the Italians in Libya.’

  ‘The Italians.’ Anna got all the Aryan contempt she could into her voice.

  ‘I know. As allies they are not worth a damn. And they are making a complete mess of their so-called invasion of Greece. But I imagine the British lump them together with us.’

  ‘I still think it may be amusing, and it could well be informative to entertain them.’

  ‘And you will be present?’

  ‘Well, I would hope so.’

  ‘Anna, to the British you are a traitor.’

  ‘And do you suppose they will endeavour to arrest me? They have no jurisdiction anywhere in Russia, outside of their own embassy. In any event, I should not think any member of the British Embassy has any idea who the Countess von Widerstand is. The famous spy who escaped from England in May was the Honourable Mrs Ballantine Bordman.’

  He stroked his chin.

  Anna pressed home her advantage. ‘Do you know, I could even try vamping one of them . . .’

  ‘Anna, you are incorrigible. But I adore you. Invite who you like. Just let me have the list before you send the invitations. You do understand that I will have to submit both the idea and the guest list to the Ambassador?’

  Anna kissed him. ‘Tell him it is my idea.’

  *

  ‘This place is impossible,’ Marlene complained when Meissenbach left. ‘Herr Bluther was not there, and no one knew where he was. So I had to wait. Then when he returned he told me that he had been summoned to Herr Meissenbach’s office. But when he got there, Herr Meissenbach was not there, and no one knew where he was. Well, I could have told him that. But he hung around Herr Meissenbach’s office for ten minutes before coming
back down to Records! How we won the war defeats me.’

  Anna sat behind her desk. ‘Well, I have another job for you. I wish a complete list of everyone who is employed by, or at, the British embassy.’

  Marlene’s eyes became as large as saucers. ‘You mean we are . . .’

  Anna rested her finger on her lips. ‘We are going to invite them to the party. Some of them, at any rate.’

  Marlene bustled off. Anna glanced at the previous year’s list and frowned. There was no Chalyapov! But Meissenbach had told her to invite whichever of the Russians she chose. On the other hand, if Clive was in Moscow, she did not really want them both meeting her at the same time.

  Marlene returned fifteen minutes later with another list. ‘Do you think any of them will come?’

  ‘I am sure of it.’ Anna hoped the girl could not hear the pounding of her heart as she scanned the names. None of them meant anything to her. Damnation! Of course he might not be risking his own name. But as far as she knew he had never previously operated in Russia, nor was he even widely known in the Gestapo. Certainly she did not think that Groener, who had been in Moscow for some years, would ever have heard of him.

  But on the fairly safe assumption that, for whatever reason, Clive had not yet arrived, or might not be coming at all – she had only the code word Belinda to work on – she owed it to both her employers to get on with her mission.

  ‘Well then,’ she said. ‘Let’s see. We’ll start with the ambassador and his wife, with this chap . . .’ She ticked each name. ‘And this chap and his wife. And this chap: a Commander Sprague; he sounds interesting.’

  Marlene took the list, looking increasingly sceptical.

  ‘Now for the Russian guests.’ Anna spread the previous year’s list in front of her and again began ticking names. ‘I think we’ll just add one: Ewfim Chalyapov.’

  ‘You haven’t ticked Marshal Stalin,’ Marlene pointed out.

  Stalin’s name was certainly on the previous list. ‘Well, of course we shall invite Marshal Stalin,’ Anna agreed, although she saw from the cross beside his name that he had declined last year’s invitation. Molotov had come, though.

  *

  As Anna had anticipated, a summons to the Ambassador’s office soon arrived.

  ‘You are a very enterprising young woman, Countess,’ Count von Schulenburg remarked. A copy of the guest list lay on his desk. ‘Herr Meissenbach tells me you are hoping to obtain some information from these people. I know, of course, that you are carrying out an instruction given to you by General Himmler. I just wish to repeat that I will permit nothing that may jeopardize the standing or the reputation of the Reich here in Moscow. I am sure, having spent three months here, you appreciate that the Soviet Regime is confoundedly suspicious of everything that does not seem to them to be above board. The point I am making is that there is almost as much hostility and mistrust between Moscow and London as there is between London and Berlin. Were the Soviets to become suspicious that the Wilhelmstrasse was attempting any kind of negotiation with Whitehall, the repercussions could be serious.’

  He was entirely missing the point, for which she was grateful. ‘I do understand that, Your Excellency. But throughout all history has it not been the accepted custom for warring states to maintain diplomatic contact in neutral capitals?’

  ‘It is hard to regard the Soviets as neutral in any form. I will ask you this: were you sent here to open any such negotiations?’

  Not in any sense that you might appreciate, Anna thought. ‘No sir. I was sent here to obtain the general feel of the Soviet Government not only as regards us, but as regards Great Britain. I consider that to bring British and Russian diplomats together under our roof and in our presence, in a strictly social environment, may be interesting.’

  ‘You are a singularly precocious young woman. Is it true that you are not yet twenty-one?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘And you have this much confidence placed in you by General Himmler?’

  ‘I was trained by General Himmler,’ Anna said reverently, reflecting that it was no lie, as Heydrich, Glauber – and even Hannah Gehrig – were all Himmler’s creations.

  ‘Well then, I must be content to leave the business in your hands. But I will also hold you responsible should anything unfortunate result from this scheme of yours.’

  *

  Anna was content, although again she saw some very large storm clouds on the horizon when she misbehaved herself, as it would certainly be interpreted by the scandal-conscious old gentleman.

  But first the party. The invitations went out and she awaited the replies with some anxiety. The British Ambassador declined but the other invited members of his staff accepted, no doubt on his instructions. The Americans all accepted, as did the Russians, with the exception of Stalin. This was clearly a disappointment to Meissenbach, but Anna reckoned he would only get in the way.

  ‘Am I coming too?’ Marlene asked.

  ‘You are not invited,’ Anna pointed out.

  ‘I am just a dogsbody,’ she grumbled.

  ‘This party is for diplomats and senior officials. Your time will come,’ Anna assured her.

  *

  Commander John Sprague looked up from his desk at the figure standing before him. ‘My God!’ he remarked. ‘I had given you up for lost. I was advised by London that you had been put out of action for the foreseeable future.’

  Clive Bartley sat before the desk. ‘I thought I had been put out of action as well. You wouldn’t believe it, but the plane I was travelling on was shot down by Italian fighters off Malta. Spent two days in a rubber dinghy drifting about the place with a bullet in my back and a chap dying on either side of me.’

  ‘Sounds rough,’ Sprague agreed. ‘But you were all right?’

  ‘Unfortunately not. I spent six weeks in a hospital, being bombed almost daily. It was worse than the Blitz.’

  ‘May I assume that you are now again fit?’

  ‘Entirely.’

  ‘Well, I will wish you better fortune going back.’

  ‘My dear fellow, I am not going back until I have done what I was sent here to do.’

  Sprague gave him an old-fashioned look. ‘Whatever you were sent here to do, it was four months ago. It cannot possibly still have any relevance.’

  ‘It is just as relevant now as it was then. Perhaps more so. I am to make contact with one of our people serving in the German Embassy.’

  Now Sprague was frowning. ‘We have an agent in the German Embassy? Why was I not informed of this?’

  ‘Because it is the most closely guarded secret MI6 currently possesses. This . . . ah . . . agent is one of our very best people and is carrying out a mission of the utmost importance.’

  ‘And how do you propose to contact him?’

  ‘Is there no liaison between the embassies at all?’

  ‘Not so you’d notice. Although, oddly enough, half a dozen of us have been invited to their Christmas party. His nibs isn’t happy, but he’s agreed that we can go, providing we keep our noses clean.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ Clive said. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘My dear fellow, you haven’t been invited.’

  ‘Do you think they will turn me away?’

  ‘It could happen. They have a new Chief Secretary, a chap named Meissenbach. He used to be in Prague. Earned himself a reputation as a hard man. The Czechs even tried to bump him off. You must know about that.’

  ‘We set it up,’ Clive said, his brain spinning. ‘And you say Meissenbach is now in Moscow?’

  ‘Running the embassy. He sent the invitations, or at least his sidekick did. Some Countess or other. Supposed to be quite a dish. I haven’t seen her myself. I suppose she is one of these big-titted Valkyrie types. I say, old man, are you all right?’

  ‘John,’ Clive said, having got his breathing back under control. ‘I am going to attend this party and take my chances.’

  Chapter Six – The Party

  Anna fo
und herself becoming increasingly agitated as the date of the party approached. She had no real expectation of making any progress with the British, unless they used the opportunity to arrange contact. But Chalyapov . . . She told herself that he was only a man, surely more interesting than Bordman had ever been. But possibly far more intelligent, and therefore more difficult to hoodwink on a continual basis.

  And suppose he did not, after all, find her sufficiently attractive to seduce her? Heydrich had refused to contemplate that possibility. She wore her favourite pale blue sheath, with its deep décolletage, her gold earrings and crucifix, which sat so entrancingly in the valley between her breasts. The ruby ring was unnecessary as she was wearing elbow-length white gloves. ‘I think you would look even better with your hair up,’ Marlene suggested.

  Anna stood before her full-length mirror and scooped her hair away from her neck. ‘Do you know, you could be right.’

  ‘Nothing should be allowed to detract from your face,’ Birgit said enthusiastically.

  They consider me some kind of gigantic doll, Anna thought, merely to be played with. But she had to agree that it was a good idea; she could always let her hair down when the opportunity arose.

  Her coiffure completed, she hurried to the ballroom to make sure everything was going according to plan: the white-gloved waiters, the champagne already opened and waiting on ice, the silver trays of canapés arranged in mouth-watering expectation in the pantry.

  ‘Anna! You look superb.’ Meissenbach kissed her gloved hand. ‘I have never seen you with your hair up.’

  ‘Then perhaps you have never seen me at my best. Frau Meissenbach.’ She bestowed a gracious smile upon Greta, who was looking more out of sorts than ever, in high-necked brown velvet, dripping with what Anna considered vulgar jewellery. ‘Excuse me.’ She hurried across the room to greet Count von Schulenburg and his wife, who had just entered. ‘Your Excellency! Countess! I hope everything is in order.’

  Schulenburg kissed her glove. ‘I have no doubt of it.’

  ‘And you look absolutely charming, my dear,’ Countess von Schulenburg said. She was a tall, gracious woman who must have been a beauty twenty years before, Anna estimated. She did not know if the Count had confided any of his disquiet at her presence in Moscow to his wife, but the Countess had always been unfailingly pleasant to her.