Authors: Alex Gerlis
‘What on earth have you done? You’ve killed a
policeman!’
‘Calm down and get Sophia into the car. We need to
sort things out.’
Rosa bundled her daughter into the back of the Opel
and came back over to him.
‘He was looking for us. He checked the numberplate
then asked whether we’d been in Berlin or in Würzburg today. He told me to get
out of the car and I could see he was reaching for his gun. He was distracted
when he heard you so I knew I had to do something. We need to move him and his
bike – quickly.’
It took the two of them ten minutes to carry the
man’s body as deep into the forest as they could manage, covering it with
undergrowth. While Henry wheeled the motorbike far amongst the trees in another
direction, Rosa did her best to clean up the ground where the man had been
shot.
‘What do we do now?’ They were both standing by the
car, breathless and filthy.
‘We need to get away from here as quickly as
possible.’
‘Even I could have worked that out. Which direction
do we head in? Towards the Swiss border?’
‘No, not now – it’s too late and he’ll be reported
missing soon. We don’t want to be stuck in the forest or even near the border
when that happens.’
‘So where do we go then?’
‘We’ll go to Stuttgart and ditch the car.’
Rosa sniffed. ‘And what do you propose we do then –
check into the best hotel in town?’
‘Something like that – yes.’
***
‘Basil,
without in any way wishing to appear rude, may I suggest you pause, take a deep
breath then start again?’
It was the evening of Friday 28
th
March,
and Edgar and Basil Remington-Barber had been stuck in the apartment above the
bar in Zürich since Wednesday. They had heard nothing further about Henry since
Hedinger’s report that he had last been seen in Berlin on Tuesday. The
circumstantial evidence he had possibly left Berlin with Rosa and her daughter
was bad enough; the fact he had the Rostock Report with him rather than it
being in Soviet hands was disastrous.
Now Basil had received a phone call from the embassy
in Bern:
some news.
‘I’m sorry Edgar; the tension does rather get to one
at times. They’re in Stuttgart.’
‘Who?’
‘Henry, Rosa and her daughter.’
‘Jesus Christ: I knew it. What on earth does he
imagine he’s up to? Is he safe?’
‘For the time being, yes, though I’d say considering
their circumstances, safe is a very relative word. ‘
‘And how do we know this?’
‘You remember Milo, the Night Manager at the Hotel
Victoria? Well, we’ve heard from her. She contacts us in code by telex to a
travel agent in Bern, one with which we have an understanding. It’s a safe form
of communication – a hotel confirming bookings with a travel agent, terribly
routine stuff – if a bit cumbersome. It rather relies on the travel agent
passing the messages on to us quickly. And though Milo sent the telex on
Thursday night, the travel agent didn’t see it until this morning and, for
reasons that aren’t entirely apparent, waited until this afternoon before
informing my office at the embassy. They in turn seem to have taken their time
before thinking of letting me know. I shall be having harsh words with them
about this, I can assure you.’
‘So how does Milo know about them?’
‘Because they’re in her hotel Edgar.’
***
By
the time they left the Black Forest, it was 5.30 on the Wednesday evening and
it took them another two and a quarter hours to reach Stuttgart. It was a
quarter to eight when Henry parked at the northern end of the Schlossplatz, as
near as he dared to the railway station. As they parked, a squadron of Heinkel
fighters flew low overhead.
‘You’re sure this is going to work?’ asked Rosa, not
for the first time since he’d explained his plan.
‘No, Rosa, I’m not sure. But it’s our best hope. They’re
bound to find the car and I just hope they’ll assume we must have caught a
train, so with any luck they’ll look for people leaving Stuttgart rather than
staying in it. And when we walk away from the car, we’ll look like travellers who’ve
just arrived by train.’
It took them five minutes to walk from the
Schlossplatz to the Hotel Victoria, Rosa carrying an exhausted Sophia. Instead
of going to the main entrance on
Friedrichstrasse
they walked into Keplerstrasse at the side of the hotel. It was quiet, the
night was drawing in and there was no movement in the street. In a room above
them, possibly the restaurant, they could hear people laughing and glasses
clinking. Henry moved Rosa and Sophia into a concealed doorway.
‘Wait here and keep an eye on me. If I can get the
door open, watch out for my signal then hurry along but don’t run.’
‘And if you can’t?’
Henry hesitated. ‘Don’t worry: I’ll think of
something.’
Keeping as close to the wall as possible Henry edged
towards the door that led to the basement of the hotel. He had last been there with
Milo on the morning of his journey to Essen the previous year. He had no idea
whether Milo was still working at the hotel. For all he knew, she could have
been arrested, but it was the only plan he could think of.
The door to the basement was stiff, but started to
give after a few pushes and when he used his shoulder it sprung open. He
descended the steep concrete steps: the basement was warm and dimly lit, beyond
the machinery he could make out a laundry area. After that was a door he seemed
to remember led to the stairs into the main part of the hotel. There was no
sign of anyone down there.
He climbed back up the stairs and gestured for Rosa
and Sophia to join him. Once they were safely in, he shut the door and
whispered to Rosa.
‘We’ll find somewhere in here to hide and after
midnight I’ll go up to the hotel and see if she’s there.’
‘You say this woman is on duty at night?’
‘Most nights, but not every night. But I have to
tell you, Rosa, it’s nearly a year since I saw her, I can’t even be sure she’s still
here.’
They found a corner of the basement that was dark
and warm, and huddled together. They gave what little food they had left to
Sophia and soon she fell asleep in her mother’s arms. At midnight, Henry
decided to go up into the hotel.
‘How do I look?’
‘Terrible! Here, let me see what I can do.’ Tenderly,
Rosa wiped his face and brushed his clothes down. She took a brush from her
handbag to tidy his hair.
‘That’s better. You have your Swiss papers with you?’
Henry patted his jacket pocket. A few minutes later
he was on the ground floor of the hotel and walking across the deserted foyer
to the reception desk, where a young night porter was on his own.
‘Can I help you sir?’
‘Yes, I had some dealings before with a most helpful
manager. I wondered if she was on duty tonight? Her name was Katharina Hoch, I
seem to recall.’
‘Fraulein Hoch: indeed she is sir. May I ask your
name?’
‘Herr Hesse – from Switzerland.’
‘Thank you sir. And which room are you in?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Which room shall I tell her you’re staying in?’
Before he could think what to say, Katharina Hoch
emerged from the office behind the reception desk. It was a good job the night
porter had his back to her because her eyes widened in fear as she saw Henry. She
steadied herself against the doorframe and wiped her brow before regaining her
composure.
‘Herr Hesse! How good to have such an honoured guest
back with us. Please do come through to my office.’
She took Henry down a corridor at the back of the
reception and into another office.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said after
making sure no-one had followed them.
‘Hiding.’
She stared at him for a minute, slowly shaking her
head.
‘Well you can’t. It’s too dangerous. Everything is
so dangerous now that we do nothing other than pass the odd bit of information
on to Bern. As for helping agents and hiding people, that’s a thing of the
past. You’ve no idea how much of a risk it is for you to be here. You must
leave.’
‘I can’t.’
‘You have to, please. Since you were last here, the
situation has got so much worse. Everyone informs on everyone else as a matter
of course.’
‘But I can’t leave.’
‘You have to, I told you. I can give you some money
and something to eat, then you go. How did you get in here?’
‘Through the basement, you remember you took me
there the morning I went to Essen?’
‘You must leave that way then.’
‘I can’t, I’m not on my own. And I killed a
policeman today.’
***
Katharina
Hoch said nothing as Henry told his story. By the time he had finished she was
running her fingers through her hair. He noticed she was now wearing a bright-red
lipstick, which managed to make her lips look less sensuous than before.
‘I was foolish enough to imagine we may be safe,’
she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘My brother Dieter – you remember you used his
identity when you travelled to Essen – he even joined the Nazi Party after you
left, the situation has become that bad. We thought that may help us if there
was any suspicion. Now what happens? You kill a policeman and turn up here with
two Jews. What do you expect us to do?’
‘Help us get to Switzerland. I was hoping to drive
to the border, but I can’t use the car now. It’s too risky. They’re obviously
looking for it.’
‘And how do you propose to get to the border? They’ll
be searching for you: hide in the basement tonight, but no longer than that
please. I’ll have to send a message to Bern, but I’ll wait until tomorrow
night, I must to talk to Dieter first.’
‘Why are you sending a message to Bern?’
‘At least we can let Basil know you’re here. He may
have an idea.’
***
‘Is
the only way we can communicate with Milo through this travel agent?’
Edgar was chain-smoking now and sitting close to
Basil Remington-Barber, as if he were interrogating him.
‘It’s not the only way, Edgar, but it’s by far the safest
way. The problem is it’s now Friday evening and the travel agent doesn’t reopen
until Monday morning. In the meantime, we could send a telex direct to the
hotel, but that’s not without risks. At least we know Milo’s on duty tonight
and over the weekend so the chances are she’ll be the only person to see it.’
Edgar stood up and walked slowly around the room, a
trail of cigarette smoke following in his wake.
‘The first time I met Henry was in August 1939, at
Croydon Airport. I had to remind myself that appearances can be deceptive, that
he may have looked and even acted as something of a nonentity, but there was
clearly more to him than that. I recall saying he was actually rather
impressive. No hint whatsoever who he was really working for and there was a
danger we could underestimate him. God knows what we’re to make of him now.’
Remington-Barber started to speak but Edgar held up
his hand.
I’m thinking.
‘What telex machine would you use from this end?’
‘One of Rolf’s contacts works in a hotel here in Zürich.
We can get a message out through her tonight. It’s open I’m afraid, but needs
must.’
Another pause while Edgar paced the room, deep in
thought.
‘You ready to write this down Basil? Tell Milo to let
Henry know he’s to leave Stuttgart and get back to Switzerland as soon as
possible. He’s to come on his own. Under no circumstances should he attempt to
bring that woman and her daughter out with him. He’s already been told we’re
not the Red Cross. That last bit isn’t part of the message.’
***
Katharina
Hoch went down to the basement in the early hours of the Thursday morning. It
was not only for reasons of humanity she realised she could not turn the three
of them out onto the street. It was likely they would be arrested within
minutes and one of them was bound to say something about the hotel. She
realised she would have to hide them until at least she had spoken with Dieter.
At the back of the basement was a narrow corridor,
no more than five feet high. It led to a room behind the main boilers, which had
been used to store equipment. Now it was empty and seldom-visited. She led the
three of them in. The room had no lights, a rancid smell and the scuttling
sound of mice. Its saving grace was that it was warm and safe, for the time
being. Once they were inside, she brought down blankets and some food, and told
them to remain there until her next visit: she would come down when it was
safe.
It was 3.30 on the Saturday morning before they next
saw her, holding a torch and carrying a bag with some food in it. She asked
Henry to come out with her.
‘I can’t stay long, there’s a problem with the
plumbing on one of the floors and I really need to be around to supervise
things.’
They were at the end of the corridor, back in the
main part of the basement.
‘We’ve heard from Bern. You’re under orders to
return to Switzerland.’
‘Good! I told you that’s where we want to go.’
‘Just you: the message is very clear. You’re to go
back on your own.’
‘What – and leave them? Of course not, they’re
coming with me. What did your brother have to say?’
‘According to him, the police at the railway station
are searching for you. They have your names, but no photographs, which I
suppose is something. They found the car, naturally, and the fact it was so
close to the station means they think you may not be in the city, but that isn’t
the point: as soon as you leave the hotel you’ll be at risk. The only chance
you have is for Dieter to drive you south on Sunday, which is his day off. He
may be able to get hold of a van from the railways, so that ought to be safe. He’ll
try to get you as close to the border as possible. You stand a chance if you
try and cross at night: alone.’
‘But I told you, I’m not going anywhere without Rosa
and Sophia.’