Faked Passports gs-3

by Dennis Wheatley

  Goering sat back and thrust his hands into the pockets of his breeches. "Give you information? All I'm going to give you, my rash friend, is a bullet."

  "Naturally Excellency. I am prepared for that. All I ask is that you will be generous enough to give me the information first and the bullet afterwards."

  Suddenly Goering laughed. "Lieber Gott! You must love this woman pretty desperately."

  "I do, Excellency. I have had a most interesting life and, for the times in which we live, a reasonably long one. She is now the only thing that matters to me and if I can find out what has happened to her I am quite prepared to die."

  "Mr. Sallust, you are a brave man."

  "People have been kind enough to say so, Excellency." "Very well. Who is this woman?"

  "Erika von Epp."

  "Who?" Goering jumped to his feet with a swiftness amazing in a man of his bulk. "Who did you say?"

  It was the decisive moment and Gregory brought all his biggest guns to bear in the attack. `I spoke of that old friend of yours for whom you imported a hundred cases of French champagne free of duty, only just before the war Cliquet 1928, several bottles of which I enjoyed with her at Das Kleine Schloss, in Munich of the lovely girl for whose sake you protected the Jewish armaments millionaire, Hugo Falkenstein, until he was fool enough to quarrel with Hitler of the clever woman who was invaluable to you in your secret negotiations with her friends among the Army chiefs of that amazing Erika who is as brave, as generous and as unscrupulous as yourself; who is more beautiful than either the Dietrich or the Garbo and yet has said that if fate permitted she would divorce the Count von Osterberg in order to become Mrs. Gregory Sallust."

  "So!" As Goering brought the word out he lowered himself into his chair again. For a moment he sat silent, then his whole manner changed completely. He spoke reminiscently, as one old friend to another. "Life was a hard school for Erika, as it was for all of us Hochwohlgeboren Germans after the last war. When Falkenstein died she swore that she would never love again and I would have bet a million on it. Her marriage to von Osterberg was made only to please her father before he died and the Count agreed to give ‘her absolute freedom. If it is true that she is prepared to divorce him and marry you an Englishman you must be a very remarkable man."

  "As I shall shortly be facing a firing squad there can be no point in my either concealing or distorting the facts, Excellency."

  Goering smiled. "No. From the look of you I should think that you could be the Prince of Liars on occasion, but men like you do not lie on matters like this. So Erika really wanted to marry you? I must say that that fact alone makes me wish to know more about you. Sit down and help yourself to a cigarette."

  "Thank you," said Gregory with a relief that he did not show. He felt that now he had succeeded in intriguing the Marshal he had at least cleared the first fence in his audacious plan. The cigarette that he took from the lapis lazuli box was fat, round and long. The first puff of it told a connoisseur like Gregory that it was made of the very finest Macedonian tobacco. He said appreciatively:

  "I haven't had anything so good as this to smoke since I entered Germany when I had to chuck away all I had left of my own Sullivan’s."

  "They still come through," Goering shrugged, "and as the war progresses it will become still easier to obtain them."

  "That opinion is not shared in high quarters in London," Gregory remarked amiably. As though he had touched a spring, the Marshal suddenly became alive dynamic:

  "Of course not! They think they've got us with their blockade, don't they? That all they have to do is to sit tight on the Maginot Line and hold the seas and that Germany will gradually be starved into surrender as she was in 1918. But they're wrong. In 1918 Germany and her allies formed one block entirely surrounded by enemy countries with the exception of outlets through Holland, Denmark and Sweden. To day only one of Germany ’s frontiers is definitely closed by an enemy army the French frontier from Luxembourg to Basle. From any other quarters we can draw supplies to supplement the vast stocks that we laid in before the war and our internal arrangements for making the most of our own resources are infinitely better, so we can carry on for years; and it is I who tell you this I, Hermann Goering who planned it all."

  Gregory bowed, feeling it a good sign that the Marshal seemed so willing to discuss the war, and went on: "Your amazing organizing abilities are well known, Marshal, to anyone who is even slightly acquainted with the new Germany; but what is going to happen when a real war starts?"

  "You mean a Blitzkrieg or the launching of a campaign on the lines of the last war entailing the movement of hundreds of thousands of men?"

  "Yes. I can well believe that you have very wisely anticipated your normal requirements in vital commodities for a number of years and that with the supplies you can acquire through neutrals you will be able to ensure your population sufficient food to keep them from open revolt almost indefinitely; but once a total war breaks out you will have to use millions of gallons of petrol a day to keep your huge air force in the air and will be called on to replace the enormous wastage of munitions, tanks, equipment. Are you quite so sure that the structure won't then crack under the strain?"

  Goering smiled grimly. "Like most other people you still think in terms of 1914-18. But this is a different kind of war and we hold the trump cards because of our geographical position and, to be frank, our lack of scruple. If we choose we can carry the war into Norway, Sweden. Denmark, Holland, Belgium, Switzerland, Hungary or Rumania, any day we wish, and overrun these countries before the Democracies could possibly establish defensive fronts in them. That is why all these little nations must continue to do what we tell them whether they like it or not. On the other hand, the Democracies cannot attack as through any of our neutral neighbours, because that would mean abandoning their high principles. For the same reason they cannot threaten them and therefore cannot get the assistance out of them that we can."

  "I appreciate your frankness, Marshal, in admitting that Germany is prepared to use methods which are quite obviously debarred to the Democracies."

  "Why should I not be frank with you? Britain and France can't have it both ways. During the peace they made the League of Nations their instrument used it in a thousand ways to further their own interests under the guise of securing the so called rights of the small nations. Now there is war how can they throw overboard the League and all the commitments with which it has landed them? In consequence the Democracies fight with one hand tied behind their backs whereas we, who have never pretended to have any other aim but to secure for Germany her rightful place in the world, fight with both hands free."

  "That, admittedly, gives you a big advantage for the time being," Gregory nodded, "but in the event of a great land offensive the whole situation might change entirely."

  "Who said there would ever be a great land offensive? The

  Democracies do not wish to repeat the blood baths of the Somme and Paschendaele so they certainly will not attack our Western Wall which is infinitely stronger than any of our defensive lines in the last war. And where else can they attack us? Nowhere; without infringing the neutrality of one of the small nations and thereby having world opinion swing against them. They won't do that, so it's up to us; and it might suit us best to remain on the defensive while we develop the resources of our neighbours until the point is reached where we are entirely independent of the outside world."

  "Fortunately or unfortunately, as the case may prove I gather that some of your more impatient colleagues are not in agreement with such a policy?" Gregory replied.

  "No," Goering admitted angrily. `The fools cannot see that, given a little time, Germany will be in just as strong a position as if the Reich extended from the northern coast of Norway to the Black Sea and that, mark you, without the unnecessary sacrifice of a single man or plane. These neutrals, countries which comprise by far the largest part of Europe, dare not resist any reasonable demand that we choose to make; and what more coul
d we possibly ask? To march into them would only mean the destruction of their economic systems; whereas while we refrain from waging war upon them their industries remain going concerns which are being used for the benefit of the Reich."

  It was grand strategy upon the Napoleonic scale, and Gregory admitted to himself the sense and force of the Marshal's argument but he was given little time to ponder it as Goering went on almost at once, with a change of tone:

  "But we're not here to discuss the European situation. Tell me as briefly as you can what you've been doing in Germany."

  Gregory very wisely refrained from saying that it would take the whole evening to do justice to the full story of his adventures, but he was an excellent raconteur and he meant to attempt the game by which Scheherazade, in the Arabian Nights, managed to postpone her execution from day to day believing that although he had no chance of keeping Goering amused for a thousand and one evenings his tale would still be incomplete when the Marshal's next appointment was due and he would reprieve his audacious visitor until after at least one more session or perhaps two by which time it was unlikely that he would be quite so fixed in his determination to have the story teller shot. In consequence Gregory started at the first week of the war when as an old soldier he had been desperately anxious to get back into the Army but found himself unable to do so owing to his being over the age limit for a new commission or even acceptance as a private.

  That won Goering's sympathy at once and he listened intently as Gregory spoke of the joy, at such a time of dejection, with which he had accepted the most unexpected offer of a secret mission that would enable him to serve his country. He told the story of his first secret visit to Germany, his meeting with Erika von Epp and his escape only to be interned in Holland, with such vividness that Goering alternately bellowed with laughter as he heard of the impudent tricks by which Gregory had escaped arrest or nodded with the appreciation of one brave man for another as he learned how Gregory had shot his way out of the traps which the Gestapo had set for him.

  By the time Gregory had reached the point in his adventures where he found himself caught and about to be murdered by Marxists in the East End of London there was quite a pile of cigarette butts in the big ash tray; yet Goering remained enthralled and with obvious annoyance drew a telephone receiver from a hidden ledge under his desk in answer to a low buzzing.

  "What's that?" he said. "A quarter past eight? Gott im Himmel They have been waiting dinner for me for a quarter of an hour? All right. Tell them that I am still in conference. Lay places for two in the private dining room, bring cocktails now and have dinner ready in a quarter of an hour."

  Replacing the receiver he looked across at Gregory. "I have guests, but this house is always full of people and for once they must do without me at all events till later. I wouldn't, for anything in the world, miss hearing the rest of your extraordinary exploits. You must dine with me."

  Gregory hid his inward satisfaction as he bowed his thanks. One really long, uninterrupted session with Goering was even better than several short ones between which the mood of his dynamic listener might change, and already he felt confident that he had the situation so well in hand that the unpleasant subject of shooting parties would not be raised again. He was conceited enough to look forward to the expression on Freddie, Charlton's face when the airman learned that Goering had actually abandoned his guests to entertain him privately and he hoped that Freddie was not feeling the suspense of his long wait too badly. If Goering was the sportsman Gregory believed him to be they would both be given a safe conduct out of Germany and, if Erika was still alive, be able to take her with them.

  Champagne cocktails were brought by a white coated barman who mixed, them as required on a trolley that he had wheeled in. "Don't take any notice of that fellow," said Goering, tossing off the first, "but go on with your story. He's a deaf mute that's why I gave him his job."

  In the next quarter of an hour Gregory got as far as his departure for Paris in search of Madame Dubois and they sank three champagne cocktails apiece; then a butler appeared and announced that His Excellency was served. Goering jumped up and with a purposeful stride led the way across the corridor to a small private dining room that was furnished in red and gold,

  "What will you drink?" he asked at once. " Champagne or hock?"

  "If I were dining with anyone else I'd say champagne but with you I would prefer to drink hock."

  With a shrewd glance at his guest Goering said: "I see you're a connoisseur," and turning to the butler he ordered: "Have a couple of bottles of my Marcobrunner Cabinet 1900 sent up.'

  "1900" murmured Gregory. "By Jove l I didn't know that there were any 1900 hocks still in existence."

  Goering had already started on the hors d'oeuvre. "I have a little, and it's remarkable how these great wines last. The mailer ones would have turned to dish water years ago but this s still perfect marvellous."

  I remember drinking some of the famous '68's when I was a boy and although they were then over forty years old they hadn't turned a hair. My father had some of the '68 Schloss Johannesburg."

  "Beautiful-beautiful; I, too. remember drinking that classic vintage when I was a boy. There are no wines in the world to touch our great German wines."

  "There I thoroughly agree with you," Gregory smiled, "and the proof of the pudding is in the eating. People talk about burgundy as the king of wines but I've never heard of anyone paying more than two pounds for a classic burgundy, yet one must pay six pounds a bottle if one wants the very finest hock."

  The bulky Marshal preened himself as though he, instead of Charlemagne, was personally responsible for the creation of the great vineyards on the Rhine. "Six pounds he said, "I'd pay ten to anybody who could find me more of some of the rarities I've got."

  When the bottles of Marcobrunner arrived Gregory noticed that they bore the supreme honour paid only to superlative products of the vineyards which is very rarely seen outside Germany or even in it gold foil under their capsules, covering the whole of their long necks. When his glass had been filled he sniffed the wine and sipped it slowly. It was a dark golden colour and almost as heavy as Tokay with that wonderful flavour of subdued richness that only great age can give to a wine which has been sweet as honey when young.

  "Don't play with it, man drink it! " said Goering genially. "There's plenty more in the bottles." He took two big mouthfuls, rinsing it round his mouth with delight. "That's the way to get the real flavour of a wine."

  "Since we have a bottle apiece I promise you I won't leave a sip in mine," Gregory assured him with a smile; "I was only prolonging this amazing treat. There's nothing I can say about the wine; it is beyond all praise."

  "Good. Now, don't take any notice of the servants but go on with your story."

  While the rich courses came and went Gregory described his second war time visit to Germany and the meal was finished before he had reached the point where Hans Foldar's cottage was attacked. The two bottles were now empty of their priceless contents and for the first time in many minutes Goering interrupted to ask

  "Will you have cognac or kirsch?"

  "Kirsch, thanks," said Gregory at once. He did not doubt that the Marshal's cognac was of the same regal quality as his hock but he knew that the Germans had the extraordinary habit of icing fine brandy which in his opinion entirely ruined its flavour and old kirsch being a liqueur in which rich Germans specialize he thought it a safer and more interesting bet.

  "Right, then." Goering stood up. "We'll move back to the other room and drink our liqueurs there."

  When they reached his splendid sanctum he took up a position in front of the mantelpiece with his legs splayed wide apart' and his hands thrust deep into his breeches pockets. "Go on," he said. "How did you manage to get that colonel's uniform and make your way back to Berlin?"

  As Gregory told him he frowned when he heard of von Lutz's death, for he had known and liked the Baron; but he laughed uproariously when he heard how Ober Lieu
tenant Wentsich and Major Putzleiger had assisted in getting the fugitives safely out of the district in which they were being hunted.

  "And now," said Gregory when he had finished his story, "as

  Erika is such an old friend of yours I feel sure you must know what has happened to her. Is she alive or dead?" "Alive."

  "Thank God for that. Is she in prison?"

  "No." Goering grinned. "Directly the Putsch failed she had the impudence to come straight to me. I ought to have had her shot she deserved it; but you know what she is she talked me into getting her safely out of the country to Finland. She has relatives living in Helsinki the von Kobenthals."

  "You did? Well done! I had an idea that she'd come to you and I felt certain that if she did you'd help her."

  "Why? There'd have been hell to pay if theFührer

  had heard that I let her go. And think of the capital that might have been made out of such a story if Himmler or von Ribbentrop had got to hear of it Those who are not for us are against us. Death is their portion, and at my hands they get it; old friends or new it is all the same. The enemies of the Party are my enemies. She's an enemy of the Party and what induced me to spare her I can't think."

  "I can. And it wasn't sentiment." The champagne cocktails, the potent old hock and the kirsch that he was drinking had given Gregory complete self confidence, so he added: "You've had too many of your old friends shot for anyone to believe that you would allow sentiment to sway you."

  "What was it, then?"

  "Your genius for statecraft. You still talk about the Party is though it were a single entity just as Stalin still talks of himself as a Communist, although he's nothing of the kind. You now as well as I do that there are now two Parties in Germany. you, von Raeder and the Generals are now at daggers drawn with von Ribbentrop, Himmler and the pro Russians; while Hitler, whose opinions are taken one day from one group and another day from the other, gradually shrinks into the background."

  "Do you dare to insinuate that I am conspiring against myFührer?" Goering's big face was black and threatening.