Len Deighton 3-Book War Collection Volume 1: Bomber, XPD, Goodbye Mickey Mouse. Len Deighton
offended you.’
‘No,’ said Löwenherz. ‘I’m sure you never offend anyone.’
Löwenherz didn’t bring up the matter of Himmel again. He knew that he would merely be treated to glib and elementary generalizations.
‘Speaking as your medical adviser,’ said Furth, ‘you could do with a couple of days’ rest. I can arrange for guns and accommodation and we’ll shoot wild pig. This business has upset me too, I can tell you. I was fond of young Himmel. The Mess will buy the meat for sausages. Take you out of yourself, Victor. What do you say?’
Löwenherz laughed, and this puzzled the doctor. ‘I’ve arranged all the shooting I can handle at present, Herr Doktor,’ he said. ‘Thanks all the same.’ He got to his feet. Perhaps there was a more direct way to handle this business.
The Alert Hut was littered: chairs empty, newspapers abandoned, amendments to operational orders unread, fur-lined jackets unneeded in the warm afternoon sun. By now Löwenherz had had a chance to think about the dossier. How many influential Luftwaffe officers would be needed to make a protest legal, or at least difficult to punish? The Medical Officer was obviously scared stiff by Blessing and Starkhof, but how many protests had already been made about the experiments? To what extent was opinion already being rallied? Perhaps the document was in the doctor’s office because the Luftwaffe Medical Inspectorate were circulating it for comment.
Starkhof could answer all these questions but Löwenherz was determined to give no information in return. The phone was best; after all one could always hang up if the fellow became objectionable.
Even from the first moment that he lifted the telephone he was nervous. His father would have known how to handle this situation but Victor didn’t. On the other hand, his father would not have handled it; he would have left it very much alone.
‘Herr Doktor Starkhof, please,’ he told the operator. There was a short pause. ‘Hello, von Löwenherz,’ said the old man. He always used the ‘von’. He knew that Löwenherz would think it uncouth but that amused him. ‘I thought you might give me a call.’
It was startling that Starkhof had guessed who was calling, and Löwenherz needed a moment or two to collect his wits.
‘It’s about the stolen dossier, of course,’ said Löwenherz.
‘Sent you one through the post, has he? Dear me, can’t think why our people failed to intercept that. Well, you make fifteen. Any idea how many others he sent?’
‘No.’
‘Pity. Any letter?’ said the old man.
‘No.’
‘No matter.’
‘Are you going to come here and collect it?’
‘Nervous, eh? Well, that’s all right, Baron. Hold on to it until tomorrow. There’s no hurry. I have fourteen copies here on my desk.’
‘There’s nowhere really secure that I can lock it, unless I give it to the Kommandeur to lock in the safe.’
‘No, no, my boy, don’t worry about it. There were nearly three hundred copies of that report circulated throughout the medical services. In Nuremberg there was a conference of ninety-five scientists discussing the report. Each of them had a copy and at least four were mislaid, so there’s no need for you to get too excited about that one copy.’
‘So it’s been circulated? Did anyone else … I mean was there? …’
An aeroplane flew low overhead rattling the windows; Löwenherz was glad of a chance to stop speaking.
Starkhof said, ‘Ah, the baron has been speaking with young Himmel, I can tell. No, of course there was no reaction, except that Doktor Rascher was sent Göring’s thanks on behalf of the Luftwaffe. He also received a letter of thanks from the Medical Inspector of the Luftwaffe and many congratulations from his medical colleagues.’
Löwenherz felt lonely, degraded and sick as his hopes drained away. Was this the way Himmel had felt when talking with him, in the cool crisp clean air? If so, Himmel’s resolution had not faltered. ‘Did you read the dossier, Herr Doktor?’
‘I did, von Löwenherz. I did.’
‘And? …’
‘What do you want me to say, von Löwenherz? If you use your brains for one moment, you will realize that I can provoke you with any treasonable or scurrilous statement that I care to invent. Afterwards I should merely plead that I did it in my line of duty. Now stop being so foolish. Go back to your aeroplanes and leave this business to me.’
‘You are not interested in my opinions?’
‘Not in the slightest, my boy. If you know nothing important, then I shall be wasting my time. If you know something important, I prefer to hear it tomorrow, when the dossier has been officially passed to my department. A dramatic break-through today would simply mean promotion for our friend Blessing. While wishing him all the good luck in the world, I am not going to work to secure a promotion for him. Tell me tomorrow.’
‘You are returning tomorrow? To arrest Himmel?’
‘Correct. It will be very quiet and discreet. My paperwork will be in order and by tomorrow morning you and your friend Kokke will have had time to reconsider your attitude. You’ll see the wisdom of cooperating with the law.’
‘What will Himmel get?’
‘Punishment? Well, that depends. If he recants, pleads guilty, cooperates with us in respect of helpers, instigators and fellow plotters or leads us on to a whole network of conspirators, then he will get ten or fifteen years.’
‘You don’t believe it was a conspiracy?’
‘No, I don’t. But if he wants to persuade me, I’ll listen. He has some Dutch civilian friends in Kroonsdijk that I’m not entirely happy about. They have more than enough butter and schnapps down there in Kroonsdijk village. Some of it is filtering back to your air base. Himmel could provide me with the chance I need to open up a big black-market racket.’
Löwenherz found the Abwehr man’s frankness disconcerting.
‘What if these documents bring Himmel support from influential Luftwaffe officers?’
‘We live in a society where influenće can be a trump card,’ said old Starkhof cagily. ‘But I’d wager that they’d face execution along with Himmel.’ Drily he added, ‘Although I’ve heard of cases where suicide cheated the law of a high-ranking victim.’
By now Löwenherz’s carefully prepared arguments had gone dry in his mouth. He felt a strong distaste for this cynical old man who had confidence enough to say things that other men only whispered.
‘You seem very sure of that?’
‘My boy, this is what I do for a living. I am not as ambitious as you; I don’t want to reform the law or judge its transgressors. I merely bring law-breakers to justice. If tomorrow your friend Himmel is making the laws and my colleague Blessing breaking them, then I will deliver him to justice with the same calm objectivity.’ There was a trace of self-mockery in old Starkhof’s voice.
‘Smug complacency, you mean,’ said Löwenherz.
‘My very sentiments,’ said Starkhof. ‘I so wish I had the Herr Oberleutnant’s fine vocabulary.’
‘Good day to you, Feldwebel Herr Doktor.’
‘Good day, my dear Baron.’
The teleprinters in the Operations Block had been clattering since lunchtime. The message from HQ Bomber Command had gone to the Group HQs and from there the messages