by Alex Gerlis
‘We’ve been lucky so far today,’ said the skipper when he came down into the hold for a minute. ‘The Swiss and German patrol boats are all near Konstanz at the other end of the lake – there’s been some row there about fishing rights. The Austrians are lazy: they’re just putting out one patrol boat a day at the moment and they seem to prefer to stay around Bregenz. There’s a small landing just outside Nonnenhorn – Johannes will be waiting there with his truck. If it’s all clear, we’ll pull in there. If not, we’ll continue into port and we’ll get you off the boat later on, when it is quiet.’
On the first pass there must have been a signal all was well, because the boat suddenly cut its speed and turned sharply to the shore. Once the boat was tied up, they were called up to the deck, where the skipper had been joined by a man who looked like his identical twin. Johannes. After a quick shaking of hands, they were hurried along to a narrow road and into the back of a van waiting there. There was just enough room for the two of them between the crates of fish. Once he was in the driving seat, Johannes turned around. ‘I can’t pretend this will be anything other than a very uncomfortable journey, but I’ll get you to Munich in good time, don’t worry. And we should be fine if we’re stopped: all my papers are in order. You’re staying at the Hotel Bayerischer Hof, yes?’
‘I am,’ said Edgar. ‘My friend is staying at a smaller one by the station.’
***
They arrived in Munich just before five o’clock and during the journey Edgar and Rolf talked through their plans. They would have no contact with each other while they were in Munich or on the journey to Stuttgart, so if one was caught there was a chance the other would make it.
‘I’m not terribly sure why we’re taking this route to Stuttgart: it’s hardly the most direct way,’ said Rolf.
‘True, but when we arrive in Stuttgart it’ll be as travellers from Munich. That should make us far less suspicious.’
Johannes dropped both Rolf and Edgar off in a side street by Munich Hauptbahnhof. It was only around the corner from the station hotel where the Austrian would be staying and for Edgar the ten-minute walk to the Bayerischer Hof on Promenadeplatz not only meant he would not be seen getting out of a van delivering fish at the hotel, but also gave him the opportunity for a bit of fresh air and the chance for the smell of the van to evaporate.
On the Wednesday morning both men were on eight o’clock train from Munich to Stuttgart. They had stood close to each other on the concourse at the Hauptbahnhof, as arranged, but did not exchange a word nor make eye contact. Both were carrying a small suitcase in their left hand and holding their hats in their right, the signal all was well. They purchased seats at opposite ends of the same carriage so they could spot if there were any problems, but the journey was straightforward. Their papers were checked as they boarded the train and once during the journey after the stop at Augsburg, but each time the guards seemed more bothered their tickets were in order.
Both men had bought copies of that day’s edition of the Münchner Neueste Nachrichten and they made sure they were prominent as they arrived in Stuttgart, where security was far more noticeable. Their papers were checked but neither man was pulled out of the queue for their bags to be searched. They took different routes to the Hotel Victoria, Edgar arriving 15 minutes after Rolf.
Milo had reserved rooms for the two men close to each other on the second floor and just across the corridor from the back stairs that led down to the hotel basement. Hidden in an envelope taped to the underside of the wardrobe in Rolf’s room was a key to the basement and a note as to where to find Henry, Rosa and Sophia. It was 1.30 in the afternoon when Edgar reckoned it would be safe to knock on Rolf’s door. The two men stood in the tiny bathroom, the tap running to mask their voices.
‘You have the key?’
Rolf dangled it in front of Edgar. ‘She says they’re hiding in a room at the rear of the basement – here, she’s drawn a map.’ Rolf handed the piece of paper to Edgar.
‘I don’t like the fact she took such a risk, putting it down on paper like that.’
‘What else was she meant to do? You need to decide, when do we go down and do we go together?’
‘Just let me have another look at that note.’ Edgar read it carefully, nodding his head, formulating a plan. ‘She says she comes on duty at 11 o’clock tonight and we’re to wait in our rooms. She’ll come up to us between 11.30 and midnight, apparently. I don’t think we can risk waiting until then, they’ve been here almost a week already. You have Henry’s new identity papers?’
Rolf gestured towards his small suitcase.
‘Good. Let me tell you the plan then you go down and bring Hunter up here.’
Rolf was impressed with Edgar’s plan; it was not without considerable risk and would require nerves of steel, but it was clever. He then left the room and went down the back stairs that led down to the basement. It took him ten minutes to check it was clear then navigate his way through to the room hidden behind the boiler. When Rosa heard him she cried out in fear.
‘It’s me Henry: Rolf. You remember me from Zürich?’
Henry clasped Rolf by the arms.
‘It’s alright Rosa – don’t cry Sophia. Rolf’s a friend. He’s come to rescue us. Are you here on your own, Rolf… When can we leave?’
Rosa had lit a candle in the room and Rolf glanced around in the dim light. It was cramped, with rusty equipment against the walls, and blankets and an old mattress on the floor. The heat was oppressive and there was a foul smell.
‘Yes, we’ve a plan, don’t worry. First you need to come with me Henry, just for few minutes – don’t worry Rosa, he won’t be long.’
***
There was only enough space for the three men to stand more or less shoulder to shoulder in Rolf’s bathroom, which meant Edgar and Henry were facing each other. When Edgar finally spoke, after a minute of looking Henry up and down with the makings of a sneer on his face, his voice could only just be heard above the noise of the tap.
‘As much as I’m a reasonable man Henry and I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, I struggle to see how you can possibly manage to come up with a satisfactory explanation for all this.’
‘For all what, Edgar?’
Edgar inched closer to Henry, clenching and unclenching his fists.
‘For what? You were supposed to fly from Berlin to Zürich last Tuesday morning then meet myself and Basil and in Geneva. What happened?’
An embarrassed smile on Henry’s face and a shrug of the shoulders. What can I say?
‘I bent the rules a little bit and decided to rescue Rosa and Sophia at the same time. I thought if I did so then Gunter Reinhart would be better disposed towards us and provide us with more intelligence.’
‘Oh really, Henry? I’ve never regarded myself as particularly naïve, but I’d be bordering on the certifiable if I were to believe a word of what you’re saying. You’ve set yourself up as some knight in shining armour, rescuing a damsel in distress…’
‘I thought there’d be no harm…’ Henry shifted uncomfortably, his face now flushed red.
‘No harm?’ Edgar’s voice was raised for a split second before Rolf nudged him. ‘You’ve seriously jeopardised this mission, the purpose of which – in case you’ve forgotten – was to collect a document from Hugo and bring it back to Switzerland. Do you have that document?’
Henry coughed and stepped away as far as he was able from Edgar.
‘I’m afraid not. I know this is going to sound dreadful, Edgar, but after we left Berlin it dawned on me there was a possibility we could be caught. I thought the worst thing that could then happen from a British point of view was for the documents would fall into German hands, so I burnt them.’
‘Where?’
‘In some woods where we were hiding on the Tuesday night. I’m so sorry, I know I failed in my mission, but I felt the alternative would be far worse.’
Edgar turned around, facing the frosted window.
‘Jesus Christ,’ was all he could say.
‘We need to get you back to Switzerland as soon as possible. We can’t risk you being caught by the Germans, as tempting as that may be in some respects. Heaven knows what you’d say to the Gestapo…’
‘Now, look here Edgar…’
‘No, you look here, Hunter. Rolf and I are putting our lives at risk by attempting to rescue you. The very least you can do is co-operate, you understand?’
‘I will, but I’m not leaving without Rosa and Sophia. I’m adamant about that.’
‘So I’m told and we understand that. We’ll get them out, too, don’t worry, we have it all worked out. We’ve very good German identity papers for you: your photo and everything. We also have new Swiss papers, as you can hardly re-enter as Henri Hesse, not after all the fuss you’ve caused.’
‘But what about Rosa and Sophia?’
‘We’ve papers for them too, but you can’t leave together as they’ll be looking for the three of you. If you travel separately it’ll be less conspicuous. You’ll leave first with Rolf and take the train to Switzerland: your documentation is good enough to risk that kind of journey. We can’t risk Rosa and Sophia being stopped and questioned, so I’ll drive them to the border myself.’
Henry stared at Edgar, his face full of scepticism.
‘Really, you’re sure this’ll work?’
‘It’s the best way, Henry, believe me. Dieter is sorting out the car: we’ll be able to hide Sophia under the rear seat, and Rosa and I will look like a married couple.’
‘But how can I be sure you’ll follow on?’
‘I’m hardly likely to stay on in Stuttgart, am I?’
‘You promise me this Edgar – on your life: that you’ll bring Rosa and Sophia out with you?’
‘I promise you, Henry. You can trust me. Now we need to move fast. You and Rolf must leave this afternoon. Dieter will bring the car tonight so I’ll follow with Rosa and Sophia in the morning. All being well, we’ll meet up in Zürich either tomorrow or Friday.’
Rolf accompanied Henry back to the basement, where he explained the situation to Rosa. He could tell Henry was uneasy, he had his head in his hands and kept shaking it. When Rolf had explained everything, Henry turned to Rosa.
‘What do you think?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean?’
‘Should we go along with this, do as they ask?’
‘What else can we possibly do? They’re right: the three of us will never make it anywhere near the border on our own, let alone cross it. Nor can we stay here: it’s only a matter of time before we get caught. We have to do as your friends suggest.’
There was a brief goodbye, hurried along by Rolf. A few minutes later he and Henry were back in Rolf’s bedroom.
‘It’s a quarter to three,’ said Edgar. ‘There’s a train from Stuttgart leaving at 3.30, the last one to cross the border tonight. You and Rolf will catch it, but first you need to have a shave and a bath, and get changed: you look a mess and smell like you haven’t had a proper wash for days. You’d better get undressed in here while Rolf runs the bath for you.’
As soon as Henry went into the bathroom Edgar whispered urgently to Rolf. The Austrian positioned himself by the bathroom door while Edgar frantically searched Henry’s clothes and case. It took him five minutes before he found what he was looking for. He then meticulously replaced everything as he had found it and beckoned Rolf over. Through the bathroom door they could hear the sound of splashing. Edgar was holding three sheets of brown paper with German type on them.
‘The Rostock Report!’ he announced, waving it triumphantly at Rolf. ‘For some reason he’s taken it out of the envelope.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rolf whispered.
‘Of course I’m sure: I saw it in London,’ replied Edgar.
‘Where was it?’
Edgar was holding a pair of thick, dark trousers. ‘Inside the lining, look – that’s why I made him get undressed in here, so I could check his clothes.’
‘But how come you knew he had it? He told us he’d burnt it.’
‘Keep your voice down, Rolf. When I was talking with Basil the other day I told him how one could very easily underestimate Henry. I simply didn’t believe what he told us and my instinct was correct: he may have embarked on this mad mission to rescue Rosa and Sophia but, despite everything, he couldn’t risk upsetting his Soviet masters by not delivering this report back to them. All the more reason to get him back to Zürich as soon as possible.’
Through the bathroom door came the sloshing noise of Henry getting out of the bath.
‘Are you going to be long?’ Edgar asked, as he carefully replaced the envelope.
‘Five minutes, no more I promise.’
‘And what do I do with him when we get to Zürich?’ Rolf whispered.
‘Check him into a hotel, one of the smaller ones around the station. Tell him to stay there while you make contact with Basil. Then leave him, make sure he thinks he’s on his own for a while. Have one your boys keep a watch, but it’s vital he’s left alone.’
‘Not long now – mind if I use both towels?’
Edgar assured him he could use as many towels as he wished.
***
Chapter 27: Stuttgart, April 1941
From the window of his room Edgar had watched Rolf and Henry as they left the hotel, both seemingly relaxed and chatting away. They gave the appearance of amicable colleagues: a small group of men in the black uniform of the Waffen SS walked towards them, but there was no hesitation in the step of either agent, and the SS men politely parted to allow the two men to walk on through. Edgar continued to watch as the pair walked down Friedrichstrasse towards the station, eventually disappearing as dots into the distance.
He would have to remain in the hotel that evening. Rolf – Ludwig Kühn – had explained to the receptionist he had been called back to Landshut. So inconvenient, I’m so sorry. I insist on paying for my room.
Edgar had been discreetly watching this as he scanned a nearby notice board. The receptionist had insisted this wasn’t necessary (‘these things happen, Herr Kühn’), but Edgar knew if two guests checked out within hours of their arrival it could arouse suspicion. In any event, he needed to see Milo. He would stay the night and slip away in the morning: ahead of the hounds, with any luck.
Edgar ate early in the hotel’s ornate but largely deserted dining room and retired to his room. He would wait until Milo came on duty at 11 o’clock.
***
Because he had been in his room on the second floor since eight o’clock Edgar was unaware of what was happening below him.
The police had turned up at nine: the manager was asked to gather all the staff together in an office. They wanted to know if a family of three – a man and woman in their mid- to late-thirties and a girl, perhaps four or five years old – had been staying at the hotel. Unfortunately, the police told them, they had no photographs, but they had names and descriptions. Please think carefully; remember they’ll probably have used different names. The man is Swiss; the woman and child are Jews. It’s possible they may have split up.
They passed around the sheets with the names and descriptions on them. No-one recognised them. But at the back of the room was the young night porter, who had just come on duty. He stared at the sheet; gripping it tight in the hope no-one would notice his hands shaking. He looked up and around the room, then back again at the sheet of paper, hoping he had misread the name on it the first time he had looked at it. It was still there: ‘Henri Hesse, Switzerland.’ And then the description: unmistakably that of the man who had turned up the week before asking to see Katharina Hoch.
Even though he had said nothing about it at the time, the porter had thought there was something odd about the situation. When Fraulein Hoch had taken the man to an office well away from reception he had checked the register. There was no-one staying at the hotel called Hesse. It was not his place to say anything to Fraulein Hoch and he had thoug
ht no more of it, until now.
‘You’re all certain you’ve not come across these people, these criminals?’ The police officer in charge looked as though he were in a hurry. ‘We need to move on, you’re not the only hotel in Stuttgart, you know. Look once more, but remember: withholding information from the authorities is a serious crime.’
At the end of the month the porter was leaving the hotel, the time had come for him to join the army. What had his father told him even the before the war started? Keep your head down. Don’t get involved. Don’t express an opinion, never volunteer and do as you’re told.
That was his instinct, to keep his head down and say nothing. But then what would happen if they caught this man and they found out he had spoken to him that night and had failed to mention it? A serious crime.
The police decided they were going to get no help from the staff at the Victoria and told them to go back to work. One of the officers brushed past him as he left the room.
‘Please could I have a word with you sir?’
‘Is it in connection with this matter?’
‘I think it may be, yes.’
The officer called one of his colleagues over and the two policemen shepherded the night porter to a quiet corner. ‘Tell us.’
‘I’m not sure how relevant this is, sir, but a week ago I was on duty at reception. Sometime after midnight a gentleman appeared at reception and asked if Katharina Hoch was on duty.’
‘Who’s she?’
‘She’s the Night Manager.’
‘He said his name was Hesse, from Switzerland. I asked him which room he was staying in but, before he had a chance to tell me, Fraulein Hoch appeared from her office behind me and greeted the man, who she appeared to know. She then took him down a private corridor to an office well away from reception.’
‘Which day was this?’