The Alice Factor

by J. Robert Janes

  The burned-out bulbs of a nude cabaret signaled that streak of false purity the Nazis had brought to the city. No naked maidens riding white stallions as at the Munich torch-lit fetes, no orgies as in Hitler’s new artists’ center there. None save in the sleazy bars Heydrich knew.

  The lights were out in Dee Dee’s flat. “Wait for me, will you?” he said.

  When he rang the buzzer there was no answer. When he stood looking up at her windows, he felt a renewed and growing sense of uneasiness.

  Aschinger’s was cheap and good, a place to stand and eat or sit, and he went there to wait, knowing that he’d been followed.

  A beaming Otto Krantz soon pushed his way through to the counter. “Richard, how’ve you been? Glad to see you’re back.”

  Krantz took in the half-eaten bowl of pea soup with ham, the plate of little sausages, the stein of beer and the cheese on rye with sauerkraut.

  “You’re one of us, my friend. Hah, this weather, Richard.” He tossed his fedora onto the counter, used a stumpy forefinger to order the same. “So, how’ve you been?”

  Guardedly the salesman chose to discuss the weather and the international situation. Krantz broke a fistful of rusks into his soup and added salt and pepper. “Herr Heydrich wishes us to have a little talk, but first, a question or two of my own.”

  Hagen tossed off the last of his beer. Krantz ordered another for him. “Fräulein Schroeder, Richard. Did she have friends or relatives in the country perhaps?”

  “Did she …?”

  “Gott in Himmel, I’m sorry. You thought … but of course. No, she’s fine—at least as far as we know.”

  “But she’s not at her flat.”

  The policeman’s expression was bland. Slowly Krantz shook his head. “I was rather hoping you might tell us where she is.”

  Had Canaris made good his promise? Had the admiral managed to get her out of the country?

  “The Gruppenführer …” said Krantz, savoring his soup as one would a juicy piece of gossip. “He’s really quite fond of the woman. If you could … as a favor.” The Berliner shrugged.

  “Herr Krantz, I don’t know where she is. I was hoping you’d tell me.”

  The spoon went into the soup again. The Berliner puddled the rusks and drowned them in the gray-green. Bits of ham floated up. “When I find out, I’ll be sure to let you know. So, now let us come to business. Whatever you and the admiral have agreed to, the Gruppenführer wishes you to extend the same to us.”

  Hagen reached for his coffee. He thought to say, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Grinning, he set down his mug. “Perhaps we’d better talk outside.”

  Krantz lit up. Were they putting rat shit in the tobacco? “Gott in Himmel.” He coughed and wheezed in.

  They’d take a little stroll but first he’d finish his meal.

  TO WINFIELD MRS LOIS ANNE INVERLIN COTTAGE BLACK DOWN HEATH PORTESHAM ROAD DORCHESTER ENGLAND

  FROM HAGEN RICHARD HOTEL ADLON BERLIN

  CHAMBERLAIN HAILED AS A SAINT STOP EVERYONE SAYS HE DID HIS VERY BEST AND SUCCEEDED IN OVERCOMING AN ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TASK STOP HITLER DIDN’T YIELD ONE BIT BUT SHOWED HOW SHREWD HE WAS AND GAINED ALL MANNER OF CONCESSIONS STOP THE GENERAL FEELINGS ARE OF PEACE BUT EVERYONE IS STILL WATCHING IN CASE THERE IS A TURN FOR THE WORSE STOP MY FEELINGS ARE THAT YOU SHOULD RELAX STOP DON’T BE ANXIOUS ABOUT ME STOP LOVE HAGEN

  SD Antwerp had again entered the offices of Dillingham and Company. Karl Christian Damas had sent word of two books in English he’d found in the director’s desk but hadn’t removed.

  Through the Looking Glass and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.

  The Belgian had said some passages had been lightly marked and that Wunsch had left a bookmark at one poem. “The Walrus and the Carpenter.”

  Krantz read the cable over again. Lost in thought, he fingered the cigarette case. Where would it all lead? What would Heydrich really do?

  Hagen and he had walked and talked for nearly an hour. They’d finished up with a coffee at the Cafe des Westens and had watched the nightlife stroll up and down the Damm.

  Then the bastard had gone back to his hotel and at 4:00 a.m. had sent this wire.

  He did his very best had come from verse one, line three of “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” The rest of the quotes had come from page 21 of Through the Looking Glass.

  Unknown as yet, the message when decoded would read:

  TO THE CARPENTER FROM ALICE

  OFFER MEGADAN ROUTE EXTENDED SD VIA KRANTZ £50,000 PAYABLE ZURICH ACCOUNT / RAILWAY ROUTE HELD BACK / IMPERATIVE DIAMOND STOCKS BE MOVED / BELIEVE PLANS IN PLACE TO SEIZE THEM / ALICE

  Hamburg was shrouded in gray. Around the harbor the forest of cranes swung eerily back and forth in the mist. Day and night the offloading and loading went on. Ships from all over the world came here.

  Hagen stood in the director’s office of Blohm and Voss, Germany’s largest shipbuilding yard. The skeleton of another cruiser funneled his view down into the harbor. Motor torpedo boats, landing barges—they had several of these as well as submarines. The din of the riveting hammers intruded, as did the flash of acetylene torches.

  The office had been put at their disposal. Unknown to him, Dieter Karl and Irmgard had arrived back from Brazil, Dieter tanned and fit but cautious and demanding.

  A meeting here—ostensibly in secret. Dieter and the Abwehr had chased after him. Very worried about Dee Dee and Irmgard, Hagen found he could barely control his anger.

  “Dieter, you’ll never get diamonds out of the Congo unless you work through the cartel, buying on the open market. If Canaris thinks the Abwehr and the SS have the best security systems in the world, he’d better think again. Each washing and concentrating plant—each mine if need be—is enclosed by barbed, electrified wire fences. There are patrols with dogs that are no less fierce than those of the SS. The Bantu who work there sign on for periods of three months and they don’t come out until someone says they can.

  “When they pass through the gates, they go into a shed to strip off and leave their clothes and anything else they might have brought—even a pipe and tobacco pouch. Then they pass through the showers, are disinfected and given a suit of work clothes.”

  Dieter grinned. “You’re making it sound like one of the camps.”

  Hagen didn’t react. “They live and work within that compound until their tour of duty is up. But—” he paused “—they never know exactly when they’ll be told to leave—what day, what hour—so they can’t plan ahead. On the way out they leave their work clothes, shower and are body-searched—and I mean searched.

  “Sometimes a fellow will swallow a diamond or two. The fear in his eyes nearly always gives him away. Castor oil, an enema or a fist in the guts—whichever way, he’s forced to get rid of it. And again, he never knows if he’ll be selected, for there are always random checks as well.”

  Was Richard afraid they might try without his help? “But you have said the deposits at Mbuji-Mayi are almost totally industrials? Surely the security is not so tight for those?”

  “About two percent are gems. One stone, even at today’s prices, is a lifetime’s work for several men. Some still try to steal, and I feel sorry for them because they’re nearly always caught.”

  “And the tool diamonds?”

  “About three percent. Look, doing it illegally just isn’t worth the try.”

  “But some do get by. This security of La Forminière’s is not so good as you say.”

  Dieter would never understand. “Only a white man could accomplish what you’re thinking of, and even he couldn’t get enough diamonds past the mine security to keep the whole of your war machine going.”

  “We are not at war, and we do not plan to be.” A white man … a Belgian …

  “When it comes, we both know there’ll be a blockade.”

  “The British will still need diamonds to run their industries. They won’t close those mines, Richard. They wouldn’t be able to.”

  �
��Mbuji-Mayi’s production is almost totally of crushing boart. Sure you need it, but how are you going to get it out of the mines, and if you should manage that, how will you get it past the blockade?”

  “There must be ways. We will see.”

  “And the tool diamonds you’ll need?”

  “You told Canaris it might be possible—from Tshikapa, I presume, with your help.”

  “With my help, Dieter. Mine! A company of my own so that you can work through the official channels even if there is a blockade.”

  “I must have my assurances that you really have our interests at heart.”

  “And I want to know what’s happened to Dee Dee. Just where is she, Dieter? The admiral promised me he’d get her out.”

  Richard could be such a fool at times. “Steps are being taken to find out. Believe me, I’m just as upset by her disappearance as are you and Irmgard.”

  “But are you upset by what’s happened to her? Heydrich, Dieter. Heydrich!”

  “You know I am. Now, please. The Antwerp stocks? The admiral wishes to know if there have been any new developments? Which of the channel ports will they use to send the railway cars across?”

  “I’d like to see Irmgard, Dieter. I’d like to know that she’s okay.”

  “You’ll see her soon enough.”

  Hagen clenched a fist and turned away to the windows. “I want the fifty thousand first, Dieter. It should have been deposited to my account by now.”

  “The channel port they’ll use, Richard?”

  “I don’t know which one. Not yet. But I can’t see them sending the diamonds through France. They’d be afraid the French might seize them.”

  No love lost among such allies, the truth at last. “Then it has to be Zeebrugge or Ostend.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And this freighter, the Megadan? Is it really to be a ploy or do the traders intend to use it?”

  Dealing with Canaris had been one thing, Dieter quite another. “I can only repeat what I know to be the case. Look, I want something for myself, Dieter. I can’t be forever shuttling back and forth across Europe. Besides, if war comes and they do manage to move the diamonds to London, you’ll need me in the Congo. With my own production and those I’ll buy on the open market, I can see that you get all the diamonds you’ll ever need.”

  “You’ll be subject to the blockade just like everyone else.”

  “I’ll get around it by setting up a dummy company in the States. Orders from there go to the mine, and I ship to a third and neutral country. Only you and I know what’s really going on. You fly in and out, or you use a submarine.”

  Hunter took his time. Studying Richard had become an obsession of Heydrich’s. The admiral wanted absolute proof he’d work for them.

  There was a Dutchman in Amsterdam, a crook named Klees. Word had it that Richard was making a little money on the side.

  Knowing what he did of him, it simply wouldn’t wash.

  There was also Irmgard and the letters she had written to him; Richard’s cables, too—not just suspicions of a code but almost the proof.

  Yet Richard could help them so much.

  “All right. I’ll tell the admiral to authorize the funds.” He grinned then and got up, felt Richard’s firm handshake. “So, we are partners at last.”

  But partners with whom? wondered Hagen.

  The headquarters of the Berlin Municipal Police was in a massive gray stone building on the Alexanderplatz. From the roof terrace there was a superb view of the inner city’s bustling life. Krantz waved away the choice of meeting place. “Old haunts die hard, Richard. I still have occasion to work closely with these boys.”

  The Berliner flipped up the collar of his overcoat. “It’s a bitch of a wind but private up here.”

  Hagen waited. The police radio tower was directly behind Krantz. Ice clung to its iron crosspieces. A swastika flag flapped mercilessly from its top.

  “The Fräulein Schroeder, Richard. Word has come to me that she’s in the concentration camp at Ravensbrück. Me, I thought you’d like to know.”

  Hagen felt sick. Ravensbrück … “Can nothing be done to get her out?”

  Krantz found his cigarette case and lit up. “Herr Heydrich must have had his reasons. An argument, a bun in the oven—Gott in Himmel, how should I know? But, to get her out? Yes, I think there is a possibility.”

  They knew, then, of his meeting in Hamburg with Dieter.

  The Berliner rubbed a thumb over the tarnished head of the kaiser. “A deal, I think. Yes, that would be best. Everything you give to the admiral you will give to me and some.”

  “What guarantees have I got that you’ll let her out of that place?”

  The snort of laughter was there, the quick drag on the cigarette. “None. But, she can be whisked away at a word. Switzerland, Zurich, if you like. All Herr Heydrich has to do is wave his magic wand.”

  What could be easier? Hagen told him about the alternate plan to use the railway cars. “The Megadan is just a ploy.”

  Krantz nodded. A rusty shit box of a freighter, SD Antwerp had said.

  “And the money?” asked Hagen.

  The Berliner grinned. “We will let the admiral pay you. It wouldn’t be right of us to do so twice. Not for the same thing.”

  They went indoors and along a corridor to one of the offices. Krantz tossed his cigarette case onto the desk and asked to be excused. “I’ll only be a moment, then I can give you a lift back to your hotel.”

  Krantz had left his cigarette case on top of a clipboard. Hagen nudged the case aside and read the memo.

  TOP SECRET

  THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE WILL BE ISSUED AT 11:55 P.M. NOV. 9, FROM GESTAPO HEADQUARTERS.

  BERLIN NO. 234404 9.11.2355

  TO ALL GESTAPO STATIONS AND GESTAPO DISTRICT STATIONS

  TO OFFICER OR DEPUTY

  THIS TELEPRINTER MESSAGE IS TO BE SUBMITTED WITHOUT DELAY:

  AT VERY SHORT NOTICE, AKTIONEN AGAINST JEWS, ESPECIALLY AGAINST THEIR SYNAGOGUES, WILL TAKE PLACE THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE OF GERMANY. THEY ARE NOT TO BE HINDERED. IN CONJUNCTION WITH THE POLICE, HOWEVER, IT IS TO BE ENSURED THAT LOOTING AND OTHER PARTICULAR EXCESSES CAN BE PREVENTED*

  Between twenty thousand and thirty thousand Jews were to be arrested, the wealthy in particular.

  He’d have to wait—have to carry on as if nothing were to happen. He couldn’t try to send anything out right away, no matter how much he wanted to. Nor could he attempt to warn anyone yet.

  Krantz had left him with the temptation, but Heydrich had been behind it. Now they would wait to see what he’d do. Key phrases—the date, an action against the Jews. They’d hope to use these to help them decode what he’d sent.

  The diamond was clear, a cushion-shaped macle whose top and bottom had been ground perfectly flat. A viewing window had been cut and polished in one side and through this, with the microscope, he could see inside the stone.

  As always, he was impressed and humbled by Lev’s skill, more so now because of what he knew would happen and the need to get a warning out.

  The diamond was one of a sequence of twenty-two such stones in one of the wire drawing machines of a small factory on the outskirts of Berlin. Copper wire of 1.8 mm in diameter entered the first diamond in the sequence and was then reduced in twenty-two stages to wire of 0.21 mm.

  The hole through its center had been drilled using steel sewing machine needles, grades of diamond dust of varying sizes and very high speeds of rotation. From top to bottom the hole looked like a funnel whose spout opened slightly into a small cone.

  The walls of the hole had been carefully polished; the stone was of far better quality than most gem diamonds simply because die stones had to be that way or else they would break.

  There were pressure rings around the top of the hole, the first signs of wear. They’d have to do.

  Leaning back from the microscope, Hagen patiently explained the problem to the foreman and asked to call Antwerp. The blitz cal
l took a good ten minutes to get through, and when he heard Arlette on the line, he hoped she’d understand and do the right thing.

  “Mijnheer Hagen, is that you?” she asked.

  The line cleared. “Arlette, have you a pencil handy?” She said she had, but he found his throat had suddenly gone dry and he was shaking.

  Frantically Arlette searched for something to say. “Richard …” God forgive her for saying his name like that! “Mijnheer Hagen, I … I have broken my pencil. A moment, please.”

  He waited, seeing her at her desk. “Arlette …”

  “Please continue now, Mijnheer Hagen.” I love you very much.

  “It seems a shame to have to ask it but could you get the shop to send me a set of replacement die stones for the Metz und Langbehen plant in Berlin?”

  There were some other things, and she took down everything he said. Then he was saying goodbye, and she was sitting there, staring at her notepad.

  Bernard Wunsch nervously took the pad from her. The word obstacles hadn’t been mentioned.

  “It seems a shame” had come from “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” The girl was softly crying.

  “Are you working for the British too?” he asked.

  She gave a nod. “I must relay this to England but not let the Germans know I’ve done so.”

  Then it was true.

  Arlette wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I will go to a place I know of this evening. That will be okay, I think.”

  What kind of a world was it becoming? “The club of Cecile Verheyden?” he asked.

  She gripped her stomach, wanted suddenly to throw up. “Yes.”

  Unknown to them, the message read:

  TO THE CARPENTER FROM ALICE

  MOST URGENT YOU WARN JEWS IN GERMANY OF SS POGROM THE NIGHT OF 9-10 NOVEMBER / DIRECTIVE SENT TO ALL SS UNITS READS 2355 HOURS / SORRY BUT I HAVE TO DO WHAT I CAN / ALICE

  At 3:30 on the morning of November 8 the Motzstrasse was clothed in darkness. From the direction of the Nottendorfplatz, a car crept up the street.

  It reached number 87 and for a while sat there. Then the window of the passenger door was rolled down and the beam of a flashlight shone up the steps before fleeing to a nearby entrance.

  Out of the darkness two men hurried over to the car. Hagen cursed his luck. Krantz was having the place watched around the clock.