‘Ursula and Maxim must go at once. But I cannot,’ Sigmund said without hesitation. ‘I must stay behind until everyone else has left.’
‘I rather thought you’d say that,’ Kurt murmured. ‘So who will accompany Ursula and Maxim? Your mother?’
Sigmund shook his head. ‘My mother wouldn’t go, not without my sisters. She would never leave her daughters behind, I can assure you of that. She will tell me that she is an old woman, that her life is virtually over anyway, and she’ll refuse. Adamantly. And so I think it will be best if Theodora travels with Ursula and Maxim. In two weeks, when you have the second set of visas, Sigrid, her husband, and Hedy can leave. I will take my mother out with me at the end of the month.’
‘I guessed you wouldn’t even contemplate leaving Germany until the entire family was safely in another country,’ Kurt said. ‘I should have the three relevant passports back in my hands by Tuesday, Wednesday at the latest. I will bring them to you at the house.’
‘Thank you very much, Kurt. Ursula is prepared, and she can leave immediately. Your contact—’ Sigmund broke off, hesitating, then said, ‘Your contact is fairly certain he can get the other visas, isn’t he?’
‘Yes.’ Now it was Kurt’s turn to stop, and he swung to face Sigmund. The look he gave him was one of great directness. ‘He is absolutely sure, I promise you, Sigi.’
Sigmund returned his friend’s gaze unwaveringly.
Their eyes locked and held.
For a fleeting moment Kurt thought he saw a flicker of doubt or worry, or perhaps a mingling of both, at the back of Sigmund’s light blue eyes, and he said, ‘You must believe me, my source is extremely reliable. He wouldn’t say he could get the visas if he thought he couldn’t, if he had any reservations whatsoever.’
There was a small silence,—finally Sigmund nodded. ‘As long as you have confidence in him, Kurt, that is good enough for me.’
Even though they were now in the depths of the forest, Kurt dropped his voice to a lower pitch, more from habit than anything else, and said, ‘Look, to make you feel more secure about everything I will tell you who is helping me. And you. It’s Admiral Canaris.’
Sigmund’s jaw dropped. He was thunderstruck and he gaped at Kurt. ‘Wilhelm Canaris! But he’s head of the Abwehr.’
‘Yes. As head of German Military Intelligence he is invaluable to me. And in many more ways than I can ever tell you.’
‘Canaris,’ Sigmund repeated wonderingly.
It was patently obvious to Kurt that Sigmund was genuinely stunned by what he had just told him, and he said, ‘By birth, upbringing, tradition, instinct and conviction, Admiral Canaris detests Hitler and all that he stands for, as do many of the men who work under him. And, incidentally, there isn’t one ministry in the entire Government that doesn’t have two or three men, sometimes even more, who feel the same way.’
‘Like the admiral’s contact in the Foreign Ministry?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I must admit, you startled me, took my breath away, when you mentioned the admiral,’ Sigi said. ‘Who would guess he is an anti-Nazi?’
‘His hatred of them is quite known… in a select circle. You could say it’s a sort of… well, it’s an open secret really. And there happens to be a number of generals who think exactly as he does. But it would be useless for them to work openly against Hitler, not to mention extremely foolhardy. Each of them would find himself swinging at the end of a rope if he did.’
‘So Canaris and the others are fighting Hitler from within… on the inside,’ Sigi asserted.
‘That’s correct. Canaris believes that Hitler will eventually bring about the total collapse of Germany. I happen to agree,’ Kurt said with a heavy sigh. ‘And he and I are both convinced that Hitler will definitely go to war with Britain sometime this year… a lot of people believe that, actually. He wants to engulf the West.’
‘You sound ominous, Kurt.’
‘I feel very ominous.’ The prince shook his head. ‘The future looks bleak, very bad; war is inevitable. And Germany must lose that war if it is to survive as a nation, and regain its humanity.’
‘Yes,’ Sigi said laconically, in the quietest of tones.
They walked on together, each of them momentarily preoccupied with dire thoughts, but after only a few seconds Sigi volunteered, ‘If Hitler forces Chamberlain’s hand and Britain does go to war, France will join in the fray as England’s long-standing ally, and co-signer of the Munich Pact.’
‘Undoubtedly.’ Kurt shook his head and cursed mildly under his breath, before exclaiming, ‘That fool Chamberlain! He always buys Hitler’s talk of appeasement… empty words… of no value. There’s only one politician in England who genuinely understands Hitler’s warlike intentions, his eventual aims, and the overall situation, and that’s Winston Churchill.’
‘But he’s a lone voice, Kurt. No one is listening to him,’ Sigmund pointed out.
‘Unfortunately. It’s a great pity Churchill isn’t Prime Minister.’ Once more Kurt expelled a sigh of frustration, and then went on rather rapidly, ‘But to get back to Ursula’s travel plans. I do think it would be a good idea to have her leave by the end of this coming week. I want you to buy train tickets for Paris, Sigi. Return tickets.’
‘Yes, I will. But what about the entry visas for England?’
‘We decided that it would look better if Ursula appears to be taking Maxim on a vacation to France, hence the return tickets. Therefore she cannot have the entry visa for England in her passport when she leaves Germany, and obviously neither can Maxim or Theodora. Ursula will be able to pick up the documents they require at the British Embassy in Paris. I have arranged everything, and she will get the entry visas immediately, without any problem, rest assured.’
Sigmund nodded. ‘I have every confidence in you, Kurt, and again I thank you for all that you are doing for me, and for trusting me enough to tell me about Canaris. And of course I realise the necessity for total secrecy about the admiral and his activities.’
‘I know you will be discreet, and after all the years of close friendship we have enjoyed our mutual trust in each other goes without saying. Now perhaps we ought to return to the Schloss and join Reinhard. I believe he’s expecting Adam von Trott for lunch. He’s staying with friends nearby. You know Adam von Trott zu Solz, don’t you?’
‘Not very well. I’ve met him with Reinhard a few times. Weren’t they at Oxford together?’ ‘Yes. Adam is a Rhodes Scholar.’ ‘He’s half German, half American, isn’t he?’ ‘That’s correct. He had a rather famous American ancestor, as a matter of fact. John fay, the Supreme Court Judge who became the first Chief Justice of the United States, was his great-great-grandfather. Jay was also a statesman and diplomat of great repute.’
‘I didn’t know that. It will be nice to see Adam again,’ Sigmund said. ‘If I remember correctly, he’s with the German Foreign Office.’
‘Yes,’ Kurt said.
FOURTEEN
A rambling, centuries-old castle standing on a small rise, its turrets and towers and onion-shaped cupolas glittering in the radiant sunshine. Dark-green pine forests frosted with ice, encircling the white-stone Schloss, rising up behind it like a giant ruff. Children brightly dressed, playing in the snow under a sky so crystal clear it looked like polished blue glass.
Such was the scene that confronted Sigmund and Kurt as they tramped out of the lower forest, where they had been walking and talking for the past half hour. And it was a scene of such simplicity, gentleness and innocence both men stopped to stare, momentarily entranced, carried back to their own childhoods, and then they glanced at each other, sharing identical thoughts.
Sigi said softly, as though to himself, ‘Nothing must happen to those children, Kurt. They must not come to any harm.’
‘They won’t. Not if I have anything to do with it,’ Kurt vowed vehemently. His own children, thirteen-year-old Christian and nine-year-old Diana, were helping Maxim to build a huge snowman, which dwarfed
the smaller boy somewhat, although this did not seem to bother him. Eight-year-old Gretchen von Tiegal was pushing a wheelbarrow full of snow over to her nanny, Irmgard. The latter stood with Teddy, and both young women were fashioning an ice castle for Gretchen, working intently at their task, completely absorbed in what they were doing.
‘Cooee, all of you!’ Kurt called. He and Sigmund waved to the group as all eyes swung towards them.
‘Cooee!’ the children and the nannies chorused in unison, waving and laughing before turning back to their sculptures of snow.
‘They want to finish before lunch,’ Sigmund laughed. ‘So that we can come and admire their handiwork.’
Kurt also chuckled and nodded, and the two men veered to the left, took a path that led up to a side wing of the castle; the path had recently been cleared of snow by one of the gardeners and they were able to cover the distance at a rapid pace.
Once inside the little entrance hall, with its wood-panelled walls and blue-and-white tiled floor, they shed their outer garments, replaced their ski boots with shoes, and climbed the narrow, twisting stone staircase that spiralled up to the floor above, and Reinhard’s study.
The door was ajar. Sigmund pushed it open and walked in, followed by Kurt closely on his heels.
Adam von Trott zu Solz had already arrived and he and Reinhard were standing in front of the blazing fire, drinking champagne. Greetings were exchanged, and Reinhard then said to the newcomers, ‘A glass of this? Or would you prefer to fortify yourselves with something stronger?’
‘Champagne for me, please,’ Sigmund said. ‘How about you, Kurt?’
The prince nodded. ‘I’ll have the same, thanks.’ He took a gold cigarette case out of his tweed shooting jacket, offered it to Sigi and Adam. Sigi took one; Adam declined.
As he lit his cigarette, Sigi looked across at Adam von Trott. He had forgotten how good-looking Adam was. Tall, rather rangy in build, he was very personable, with a great deal of natural charm, Sigi recalled.
In contrast to him, physically at least, Reinhard was shorter, with dark-brown hair and eyes, and a somewhat burnished, weatherbeaten complexion, that of a man who spends a lot of time outdoors. He was exuberant and outgoing by nature, and full of easy laughter, although that laughter had been mostly absent in the past year.
His face was very serious now as he carried the crystal goblets of sparkling wine over to Sigmund and Kurt. They thanked him, and he went to retrieve his own glass from the mantel of the huge stone fireplace. He lifted it in the air. ‘Prost!’
‘Prost!’ the others said.
After a few sips of champagne, Reinhard said, ‘I think Hitler is losing his self-control. I understand from certain sources of mine that there have been a lot of mad outbursts lately, in the inner sanctum of the Reich Chancellery. And then there’s Kristallnacht to consider. I lay the blame for that unconscionable brutality entirely at his door. Nobody will ever convince me that he didn’t sanction it, indeed encourage the riots. And it seems to me that his megalomania is getting out of hand. Frankly, I believe it’s started to take him over, and who knows what he’ll do next, what atrocities he’ll commit if he isn’t stopped.’
Kurt frowned. ‘What are you leading up to, Reinhard?’
‘Tyrannicide. He won’t go willingly, so he has to be assassinated.’
‘Do be careful!’ Kurt hissed quietly, striding over to the door which was still ajar, looking out into the corridor. To his relief it was deserted, and he closed it firmly before he rejoined the others at the fireplace. ‘Careless talk can do a lot of harm to a lot of people,’ he said, giving Reinhard a cautionary look. ‘I know you are going to say that you trust the servants and everyone else living under this roof, but we must all be circumspect in what we say, wherever we are.’
‘I’m not planning to assassinate Hitler. I’m only theorising about it,’ Reinhard pointed out. ‘But you’re absolutely right, Kurt, of course.’ There was a slight pause on his part before he said in a much lower voice, ‘Don’t you all agree with me that tyrannicide is the only answer?’
The other men were silent.
Sigi spoke at last. ‘It’s not enough to assassinate Hitler. His evil partners in crime would have to be killed as well.’
‘That is correct,’ Kurt agreed swiftly. ‘Killing a tyrant is one thing, but here there’s a whole Government to be taken into consideration. Any plot to kill Hitler would have to be very comprehensive in scope. There would have to be plans to seize power instantly, the minute he was dead. A list of men to run the Government would have to be drawn up beforehand, and they would have to take control immediately.’
‘Yes,’ Reinhard said thoughtfully. He walked over to the window, stood looking out, then swung around to face his guests. ‘I want democracy for Germany, not dictatorship.’
‘Of course you do. That’s what we all want,’ Adam said.
‘I know that.’ Reinhard shook his head. ‘And we’ll never have it as long as the Nazis are in power. To get rid of the Nazis effectively, we have first to cut off the head of the beast, the master of the vermin. Which brings me back to my first point… there are a lot of committed anti-Nazis around… someone’s got to formulate a plan for killing Hitler.’
‘Yes, but—’ Kurt began and stopped with abruptness at the sound of knocking.
The men exchanged worried glances only a split second before the door flew open.
Renata stood on the threshold.
‘You startled us!’ Reinhard exclaimed.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,’ Renata apologised. ‘Are the ladies allowed up here for a glass of champagne before lunch, or shall you come down to join us?’
‘We’ll be down in a moment,’ Reinhard told her.
‘Very well, darling.’ She smiled and disappeared, quietly closing the door behind her as she left.
‘You see what I mean? That could have been anyone,’ Kurt was quick to point out. ‘I think we would be wise to drop this conversation, for the time being at any rate.’
Reinhard nodded in agreement, pivoted, looked out of the window again, and exclaimed, ‘Now who can this be arriving just before lunch? A fellow on a motorcycle, no less, and he doesn’t look remotely familiar to me.’
‘Motorcycle,’ Sigi repeated, instantly thinking of Willy Herzog. ‘It might possibly be Theodora’s boyfriend. Sunday is her day off when we’re in Berlin,’ he murmured, hurrying over to the window. He glanced down, saw that the young man was already parking the motorbike. ‘Yes, that is Willy,’ Sigi said. ‘I suppose he’s come to make his usual Sunday call.’
***
‘Teddy! Teddy! Look, there’s Willy!’ Maxim shouted to her, and he began to wave at the young man standing on the wide flagstone terrace which ran along the back facade of the Schloss.
Theodora glanced across at Maxim, then looked up towards the terrace and exclaimed, ‘Good Lord, it is Willy, and I thought you were teasing me, Maxim.’ Thrusting the garden trowel into a snowdrift, she climbed the slope, carefully straightening her tartan tarn o’shanter as she did.
Willy grabbed hold of her when she reached him, hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek, not giving her a chance to say a word. When they finally drew apart, she cried, ‘Goodness, Willy, whatever are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you.’
‘I realise… but such a long way, Willy.’
‘Not so long. It only took me a few hours on the bike. When you told me on the phone yesterday that Frau Westheim planned to stay on at Schloss Tiegal for several more weeks, I thought I should come. I’ve something to discuss with you, and it’s always better to talk in person, Teddy, isn’t it?’
‘Is something wrong?’ Anxiously she searched his face.
He shook his head. ‘Do you think I could go to the cloakroom, and also get a cup of hot coffee or tea, please? It was a bit cold riding the bike.’
‘Of course, Willy. How rude I’m being. First I’ll show you to the cloakroom, and then I’ll as
k Cook for something hot. And you must stay to lunch with us. I know Frau Westheim and Countess von Tiegal will insist that you do… I hope you won’t mind eating with the children and Irmgard, as well as me?’
‘No. And thanks, I’d like to stay. Who’s Irmgard?’
‘She’s the nanny here,’ Teddy explained, and moving to the edge of the terrace she called out, ‘Maxim!’
‘Yes, Teddy?’ he responded at once, raising his little face, looking up the slope, shielding his eyes against the sun with one hand.
‘I’m taking Willy to the kitchen… to get a hot drink.’
‘Can I come?’
‘No, Maxim! You stay here and play.’
‘But I want to say hello to Willy!’
‘You’ll see him later. He’s going to have lunch with us.’
‘Hooray! Hooray!’ Maxim cried, waving his spade in the air. Willy was his friend. He liked him.
‘Don’t worry,’ Irmgard called. ‘I’ll keep an eye on Maxim for you.’
‘And so will I, Teddy,’ nine-year-old Diana von Wittingen volunteered.
‘I’m not a baby!’ Maxim shouted.
‘Thanks, to both of you,’ Teddy cried, and swinging around she dashed over to Willy and took hold of his arm. ‘Come along, let’s go and get that cup of coffee for you. You can drink it in Irmgard’s sitting room, which I’m sharing with her. There’s a big fire in there, and you can get warm in front of it. You must be frozen.’
The Women in His Life Page 14