Angel in Jeopardy_The thrilling sequel to Angel of Vengeance

by Christopher Nicole

  Anna, who, like everyone else, had been forced to spend most of those nights in the cellar beneath her apartment block, was inclined to feel they were succeeding. The miracle was that her building had not yet been hit. But what a stupid situation, that the Allies should be trying to destroy the woman on whom rested most of their hopes for shortening the war!

  ‘If we could reciprocate in kind it would be different,’ Goebbels grumbled. ‘But there are so many calls on the Luftwaffe, what we can do over England is nothing more than a pinprick.’

  ‘Are you suggesting we could be losing the war, Herr Doktor?’

  ‘Oh, good heavens no. Things will change as soon as our new secret weapons are operational. But I do not wish to talk shop. What brings you here? Or is it simply an insatiable desire again to have me inside you?’ He pushed her skirt up to her hips to caress her thighs.

  ‘Well, of course I wish you inside me, Herr Doktor. It was an unforgettable experience. But it so happens that something has come up, and I do not know who I can turn to, except you.’

  ‘Do you not work for the Reichsführer?’

  ‘Yes, I do. But . . .’

  ‘You prefer to bring your personal problems to me. I appreciate that. And of course I will assist you in every way possible.’

  ‘Thank you, Herr Doktor.’

  ‘But while we talk, I would like to play with you. Take off your clothes.’

  Anna obeyed. Now we can discover who has the greater powers of concentration, she thought.

  Naked, she sat beside him and he began to stroke her. ‘Now tell me your problem.’

  ‘I have an acquaintance: Freddie von Steinberg.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Freddie. An unstable young man. Do you sleep with him?’

  ‘I have done so,’ Anna said, cautiously, keeping her breathing under control as the fingers continued their exploration.

  ‘Is he any good?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘I hope you do not confide any state secrets to him. As I say, he is an unstable fellow.’

  ‘I have not confided in him, Herr Doktor. But he has confided in me. Men seem to like to do that,’ she added ingenuously.

  ‘I can believe that,’ Goebbels agreed, playing with her nipples. ‘What did he have to confide?’

  ‘Something quite terrifying. He has a friend, or, I suppose I should say, had a friend, Conrad Freiling, a major in the Luftwaffe, who has approached him – you will not believe this – with a plan to assassinate the Reichsmarschall. Ow!’

  The fingers had suddenly changed from stroking to pinching. ‘Forgive me,’ Goebbels said. ‘You took me by surprise. I assume this Freiling has a reason for wishing to remove the Reichsmarschall?’

  ‘There is apparently a long-standing feud between them, and Freiling feels that his failure to gain the promotion he thinks he deserves is because of the Reichsmarschall’s dislike of him.’

  ‘Plausible. I seem to remember that one or two American presidents were assassinated by disgruntled place-seekers.’

  ‘Lincoln, possibly, Arthur, very likely, and McKinley, definitely. Someone also tried to do Roosevelt, a few years ago.’

  ‘Good heavens! I had forgotten that you are a genius. Tell me, are you the least bit interested in what I am doing to you?’

  Anna felt that she could allow herself a pant. ‘Of course I am, Herr Doktor. My heart is pounding.’

  Which was not actually a lie, as Goebbels ascertained by resuming holding her breasts. ‘And what was Freddie’s reaction to this plan?’

  ‘Well, obviously he refused to have anything to do with it. But he is terrified. Freiling apparently told him that if he went down, he would carry Freddie with him by accusing him of everything he could think of, even of planning to assassinate the Führer.’

  ‘He does sound a nasty piece of work. Anna, I can wait no longer. Go and bend over the desk.’

  Shit! she thought. She had not yet reached the point she was after. But there was nothing for it, and he was, as before, mercifully quick.

  ‘God,’ he panted. ‘Your ass is something to dream about.’

  Anna was also indulging in some heavy breathing, mainly because her stomach had been repeatedly forced into the desk edge. But she had also moaned appreciatively, and not altogether falsely: she never faked her sexual responses. ‘You say the sweetest things, Herr Doktor. May I straighten?’

  ‘Of course.’ He moved away from her and virtually collapsed on the settee. ‘Did you . . .?’

  What a question for a womanizer like Goebbels to ask. ‘Don’t you think I did, Herr Doktor? – with that huge weapon you possess.’

  ‘I try to please. I will look into this Freiling fellow. He might just be dangerous.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I would not like Freddie to get into trouble. He is a harmless little man.’

  ‘I will bear that in mind. Now, Anna . . .’

  ‘Of course, Herr Doktor.’ Anna picked up her camiknickers. Had she missed her opportunity? But she could not afford to do that. ‘I trust the Führer is well?’ she asked conversationally as she pulled on the garment.

  ‘Now, you know he is not, Anna.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. You said once that I might be able to help him.’

  Without warning he seized her wrist and turned her round, pulling her down across his lap. She had to resist an overwhelming impulse to react violently and lethally; instead took refuge in a feminine squawk. ‘What . . .’

  She made to rise and he placed one hand on her back to hold her in place, while with the other he slapped her hard on the buttocks. ‘Ow!’ she cried.

  ‘Are you that insatiable? For sex? Or is it really ambition?’

  He hit her again, and Anna gave a cry of genuine pain. ‘I only wish to serve the Reich,’ she panted.

  Another slap. ‘Perhaps by replacing Fräulein Braun.’

  ‘No,’ Anna moaned. ‘I would not dream of that. I only wish to serve the Führer.’

  Goebbels took his hand away from her back and heaved her off his lap. She rolled over and sat heavily on the floor, immediately to gasp with pain and rise to her knees. ‘If you went to the Führer, you would have to give him whatever he wanted,’ he said. ‘You might not enjoy that. Or do you enjoy sex in any form?’

  Anna got to her feet. ‘Does he also like to spank women?’

  ‘I do not know what he likes. I do know that all men like different things. I think you might just be good for him. I will find out if he would like to receive you.’

  ‘Will it be any time soon?’

  ‘I cannot say. When I am with the Führer we usually discuss business, not sexual matters. Are you that impatient?’

  ‘Well,’ Anna said, ‘it would be the greatest event of my life.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Oh,’ she added hastily, ‘I am sure the actual sex could not possibly compare with yours, Herr Doktor, but—’

  ‘You are nothing but a whore, Anna. But a most delightful whore. I will get you into bed with the Führer, if you so earnestly desire it, and I hope you do not regret it. There is one condition.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘That you tell me everything that happens between you.’

  ‘So that you can put it in your files? Do you keep a file on the Führer?’

  ‘I think you should leave now, or I will give you another spanking.’

  *

  ‘Have you heard anything about this business?’ Himmler asked, pushing the report across his desk.

  Anna, standing in front of the desk, took the sheet of paper, and scanned it. ‘Good Lord!’ she commented. ‘Can it be true?’

  ‘This fellow Freiling must obviously be mad. What defeats me is that the Gestapo launched an investigation without reference to me, and “on information received”. How can information on such an important matter as the assassination of the Reichsmarschall be “received” and I know nothing about it?’

  ‘I would say, sir, that, like you, they regarded it as the idea of a madman and di
d not take it seriously enough.’

  ‘They have taken it seriously enough to arrest this fellow.’

  ‘Well, yes, sir, they would have to do that. I meant they did not take it seriously enough to refer it to you. Everyone knows how busy you are.’

  ‘Yes,’ he mused. ‘I suppose you are right. Still, I would like you to look into it. Liaise with Essermann.’

  ‘Certainly, sir.’

  Himmler regarded her. ‘I understand you and he are getting on well together.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘He takes you to the opera, does he not?’

  ‘He has done so, sir.’

  Himmler glanced at a note on his desk. ‘Every week for the past month.’

  ‘Good heavens. Is it that often?’

  ‘And what do you do after the opera?’

  ‘We generally have a late supper, then he takes me home.’

  ‘And stays. Sometimes he stays the night.’

  Anna assumed her imperious expression. ‘Are you having me watched, Herr Reichsführer?’

  ‘I would not like you to become excessively attached to anyone.’

  Save you, she thought. ‘May I remind you, sir, that it was you recommended we get together in the first place.’

  ‘Certainly I did. I think every attractive young woman should have a beau, or at least an escort. But I also think that she should be circumspect. Have you slept with him?’

  If I didn’t loathe this man, Anna thought, I would worry about him. What does he suppose we do when Hellmuth spends the night? Play tiddlywinks? ‘He is an attractive man, sir.’

  ‘I despair of you, Anna. You are a complete wanton. Well, go and find him and see what you can discover about this business.’

  Anna returned to her office and sent out a message for Essermann to come up to her. She was becoming increasingly agitated, as yet again she was completely cut off, not only from her English and American employers but now from Goebbels. It was a month since they had had their last meeting, and there had been no word from him. In another fortnight it would be Christmas, and her instructions from London had been to organize the death of Hitler by the end of the year. Organize, she thought bitterly. If they had no means of knowing that it had come down to her . . . She would have supposed that at least Johannsson would have been in touch, if not with her then with Steinberg, to discover how things were progressing. Of course he might have been, and been discouraged by what Freddie had had to tell him. But then, even more, London should have chased her up to find out what she was now planning.

  Instead she was committed to keeping Freddie out of trouble. His name had not been on the brief report given to the Reichsführer. Perhaps that was Goebbels’s doing – oddly, however unpleasant a character he was, she trusted Goebbels to keep his word more than anyone else in the government – and now that she had been placed in charge of the investigation herself, as she had been with Belinda, she should be able to bury Freddie’s part in it . . . but not if she had to associate Hellmuth in her investigation. And she had received a direct order.

  ‘I have looked into the matter,’ he said, after receiving his briefing and returning the following day. ‘As you suggested, the fellow is undoubtedly deranged. He has been locked up and is undergoing interrogation. Would you like to attend?’

  Anna shuddered. ‘God forbid.’

  ‘I quite understand. But – well, you could just be involved.’

  ‘How can I be involved? I have never met the man. I don’t think I have ever seen him.’

  ‘He is claiming that he is innocent, and that he was approached by Count von Steinberg to assassinate the Führer.’

  ‘Freddie? He has accused Freddie? The bastard!’ It did not appear that Goebbels had passed on the information that she suspected this was going to happen.

  ‘You date him, don’t you? – Steinberg?’

  ‘I have dated him,’ Anna said carefully. ‘And I can assure you that he is the least likely person in Germany to wish to assassinate the Führer. Not only is he a profound Nazi, but he is afraid of his own shadow.’

  ‘I entirely agree with you, certainly as regards the latter. I cannot imagine what you ever saw in him.’

  ‘I did not see anything in him,’ Anna said coldly. ‘He invited me to the opera one night, some time ago, and I accepted. Are you by any chance attempting to claim proprietorial rights?’

  ‘Of course not, Countess,’ Essermann said hastily ‘It is just that, as he has been named, he will have to be investigated – however much you, and I, may regard the accusation as ridiculous. I would not like your name to come into it.’

  ‘Then keep my name out of it. Freddie regards himself as a man about town. If you intend to follow up on every woman he has ever dated, this investigation is going to take a very long time.’ Her telephone jangled, and she picked up the receiver. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you alone?’

  Oh, my God! she thought. Oh, my God! ‘No, Herr . . . ah, sir.’

  ‘Well, listen very carefully. Be at Rangsdorf Airport at six o’clock. Pack for one night. You will be returning tomorrow. Tell no one where you are going. Understood?’

  Anna swallowed. ‘Yes, sir.’ What was he saying? How was she going to travel? ‘Did you say “airport”, sir?’ She had never flown in her life, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to start now. ‘Cannot I go by train?’

  ‘Train? Anna, you are not going to Berchtesgaden. The Führer is at Rastenburg, That is several hundred miles away, in Poland. Good fortune.’ The phone went dead.

  Essermann was gazing at her. ‘Was that bad news?’

  ‘Why should there be bad news?’

  ‘I have no idea. But your cheeks went quite pale for a moment then. And now they are flushed. You are being sent somewhere.’

  ‘Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.’ And alarm me, she thought. ‘I was thinking. Perhaps I should have a word with Freddie before you or any of your heavies do so.’

  ‘With what in mind?’

  ‘There are two reasons. One would be to warn him against trying to involve me in any foolish plots into which he might have been sucked. And the other is that I think I can discover if there is a plot. I believe I can do this better than any of your people. He trusts me.’

  Essermann stroked his chin. ‘You will, of course, do as you think best, Anna. I think you may be taking a risk . . .’

  ‘I do not take risks,’ Anna pointed out. ‘I am Personal Assistant to the Reichsführer and have his complete confidence. I am telling you what I propose simply because I wish you to understand. I wish you to trust me, as well, Hellmuth,’ she added in her most winning tone.

  ‘Of course I trust you, Anna. And I am very happy that you are confiding in me.’

  ‘Thank you. It follows that, no matter what idiocies Freiling may utter, Freddie is not to be interrogated, or even questioned by anyone apart from me until I say so.’

  ‘Well . . . if that is what you wish.’

  Anna smiled at him. ‘It will not take me more than a couple of days.’

  Because after tomorrow it would not matter.

  The Führer

  It was three o’clock. Anna left Gestapo Headquarters, had a hot bath, and dressed very carefully. It was cold out but she felt that she had to look as glamorous as possible, so she wore a silk dress over silk underwear and stockings, added her best jewellery, remembering that on their previous meetings Hitler had always appreciated her crucifix: he claimed to be a Roman Catholic himself. She would add her sable and its matching hat. She packed an exact change of clothing, altering the colour of her dress from blue to green for tomorrow, and also decided to take a silk nightdress; she did not normally wear clothes in bed, but she had no idea of Hitler’s tastes. Then she carefully packed her shoulder bag. Obviously there could be no weapons on this trip, but the bottle and the lipstick were secured together with several thick rubber bands.

  Birgit, popping in and out, was as silently curious as ever, but Anna f
elt called upon to make some explanation; they had grown steadily closer since the maid had saved the day on the first occasion Essermann had come up to the apartment. ‘I shall only be away for one night,’ she said. ‘But it may be late tomorrow before I return.’

  ‘Yes, Countess.’

  Anna smiled at her. ‘I am going to visit the Führer.’

  Birgit’s eyes grew large as saucers. ‘Oh, Countess!’

  ‘He has sent for me,’ Anna said. ‘I suppose he wishes to discuss aspects of my work. But listen. This is a private visit, which he does not wish publicized. Should anyone telephone from Gestapo Headquarters tomorrow morning to find out why I am not at work, tell them that I have a slight temperature and am spending the morning in bed, sedated, and cannot be disturbed. Tell them I will be in tomorrow afternoon.’

  Birgit did not look convinced, and the taxi arrived at five fifteen. It was utterly dark, as the driver noted. ‘Rangsdorf, Fräulein? Is it not a strange time to be flying?’

  ‘You worry about driving,’ Anna suggested, ‘and I’ll worry about flying.’

  He relapsed into discontented silence, and they arrived at the airport at a quarter to six. Rangsdorf, a military airfield, was deserted, save for the security guards, but when they moved forward to check Anna’s progress they were immediately joined by a man in a topcoat and slouch hat. ‘Countess? Carl Rittner, at your service.’ He picked up her valise. ‘If you will come with me.’

  The guards melted away, and Anna followed her escort through the building and on to the tarmac. A cold breeze was blowing, and she hugged her coat tighter around her shoulders.

  ‘You are carrying no weapons, I hope, Countess,’ Rittner remarked as they walked towards the waiting aircraft, which she saw was a twin-engined, long-bodied, Heinkel 111. She had a sudden flutter of butterflies in her stomach: although she had seen airplanes from time to time, as she had told Goebbels, she had never flown; in fact, she had never been close to an aircraft.