Authors: Alex Gerlis
***
The
next time Edgar and Remington-Barber heard from Stuttgart was on the morning of
Monday 31
st
March. Milo had sent a telex overnight to the travel
agents in Bern and this time the message was passed on promptly.
‘According to Milo,’ said Remington-Barber,
following Edgar as he paced around the room. ‘Henry absolutely refuses to leave
the basement of the hotel without the others. Dieter turned up on Sunday with
his van, but Henry wouldn’t budge. Milo and her brother are at their wits’ end.
They know they can’t turf them out of the basement because the three of them
together are bound to be caught within minutes. But she’s convinced it’s only a
matter of time before someone finds them. If the Gestapo haven’t caught them
elsewhere they’ll assume they must still be in Stuttgart and she’s worried they’ll
search the hotel.’
‘Tell her to hold on then. Keep them in the basement
and we’ll sort something out. Do you still have that cache of German
identities?’
‘Yes, but I’m down to three, possibly four, which I’d
say I can totally trust.’
‘Where are they?’
‘In the safe in Bern.’
‘Better get them sent here as soon as possible. What
about good Swiss identities, do you have many of those?’
‘A couple that are watertight, Edgar. I’ll get them
to send those.’
‘How much do you trust Rolf, Basil?’
‘I’ve told you, he’s one of our best, no question
about it: type of chap you’d want to open the batting with.’
That’s Basil’s world,
thought
Edgar.
Judging people on whether you trust them enough to open the batting
with you.
‘And on the train you mentioned something about him
having been across the border before – into Germany, I mean.’
‘Yes, late ’39 it must have been. We needed to get
some cash to an agent I was running in Freiburg. We sent Rolf in over the
mountains and he came back the same way.’
‘You’d better get him up here.’
When Rolf joined them, Edgar gestured for him to sit
down. Rolf was only slightly shorter than Edgar. He was slim and sprightly looking,
the kind of person who was always moving, but in an energetic rather than
nervous manner. And, with his blond hair and blue eyes, he was far closer to
the Aryan ideal than his fellow Austrian, Adolf Hitler. Rolf’s undoubted good
looks were marred by one characteristic though: large, protruding ears that gave
him a slightly comical appearance. He invariably had a pleasant smile on his
face, as he did now.
‘I understand you’re familiar with Germany, Rolf?’
‘I’ve been many times, though of course not
recently.’
‘And excuse me asking, but do you sound like an
Austrian when you’re there?’
‘A good question: I can sound like a Swiss when I’m
in Switzerland, an Austrian in Austria and a German when I’m in Germany. I
suppress my Viennese accent in Germany, it’s too distinctive. Why do you ask?’
‘Because you and I are going to Germany.’
To Edgar’s surprise, Rolf’s smile was wider than
before.
***
They
crossed the border late on the morning of Tuesday 1
st
April. The
German identity papers had arrived from Bern late on Monday afternoon and
another of Rolf’s contacts had worked through the night to turn Edgar and Rolf
into impeccable German citizens. Rolf Eder had become Ludwig
Kühn
, an
engineer from
Landshut, just north of Munich.
Edgar became Karl Albrecht,
a businessman from Hanover, a city he was not only familiar with after having
spent a year at university there, but for which he could also manage the
correct accent.
‘I hope this chap of yours is reliable,’ said Edgar
as they drove towards Lake Konstanz from Zürich. Both Rolf and Basil
Remington-Barber looked at each other, unsure of who should answer.
‘All I can say is he hasn’t let us down so far,’
said Remington-Barber.
‘And how many times have you used him?’
A long pause.
‘Once.’
Edgar said nothing but slowly shook his head.
‘At short notice he’s our only option,’ said Rolf. ‘We’re
paying him a lot of money and he’s running an enormous risk.’
They pulled off the main road between the small
towns of
Rorschach and Arbon, and after a while the track they were on
petered to a dead end and they found themselves surrounded by trees, with the
lake just visible through them. They waited for five minutes and once
Remington-Barber
was certain they had not been followed nor were being watched, they set off
through the small wood. When they emerged they found themselves at a small
jetty, with the black water of the lake lapping high against it and the
shorelines of both Germany and Austria clearly visible. Rolf removed a pair of
binoculars from his jacket and scanned the lake. He handed the binoculars to
Edgar and pointed to a tiny shape in the middle of the water.
‘That’s her. She’ll be with us in maybe 15 minutes. We’ll
wait in the trees until she arrives.’
Twenty minutes later the fishing boat had pulled up
alongside the jetty and the three men were scrambling across it. The skipper,
who had a deeply tanned face and a heavy moustache, snatched the thick envelope
Remington-Barber handed to him. He gestured for Rolf and Edgar to go below
deck, where despite the noise of the idling engine they could hear the
conversation going on above them.
‘Don’t worry Paul, it’s all here: Swiss Francs and
Reichsmarks.’
‘And those two – they’re not going to cause trouble
are they?’
‘Of course not.’
‘And you promise me they’re not Jews.’
‘Are you crazy Paul? What Jews would want to escape
from
Switzerland
to
Germany?’
‘Ones who’ve money hidden there. They still control
many businesses, you know.’
‘No Paul, I promise you they’re not Jews. You’d better
get a move on. Your brother knows what to do? Don’t forget that’s why we’re
paying you so much. It’s for the whole journey.’
‘Don’t worry, he knows what to do. You’re getting us
on the cheap. I’m thinking of putting my price up.’
As the boat pulled away from the jetty and
accelerated into the main body of the lake Edgar realised they had not properly
said goodbye to Remington-Barber, which was probably just as well. Sending
agents into enemy territory was always the worst part of the job, not so
different from pronouncing a death sentence.
They remained in the hold throughout the crossing. They
briefly caught sight of the two other crew members, a boy who looked as if he
should be in school and a giant of a man who had a permanent grin and seemed to
communicate through sign language.
‘We’ve been lucky so far today,’ said the skipper
when he came down into the hold for a minute. ‘The Swiss and German patrol
boats are all near Konstanz at the other end of the lake – there’s been some
row there about fishing rights. The Austrians are lazy: they’re just putting
out one patrol boat a day at the moment and they seem to prefer to stay around
Bregenz. There’s a small landing just outside
Nonnenhorn –
Johannes
will be waiting there with his truck. If it’s all clear, we’ll pull in there. If
not, we’ll continue into port and we’ll get you off the boat later on, when it
is quiet.’
On the first pass there must have been a signal all
was well, because the boat suddenly cut its speed and turned sharply to the
shore. Once the boat was tied up, they were called up to the deck, where the
skipper had been joined by a man who looked like his identical twin.
Johannes
.
After a quick shaking of hands, they were hurried along to a narrow road and
into the back of a van waiting there. There was just enough room for the two of
them between the crates of fish. Once he was in the driving seat, Johannes
turned around. ‘I can’t pretend this will be anything other than a very
uncomfortable journey, but I’ll get you to Munich in good time, don’t worry. And
we should be fine if we’re stopped: all my papers are in order. You’re staying
at the
Hotel Bayerischer Hof, yes?’
‘I am,’ said Edgar. ‘My friend is staying at a
smaller one by the station.’
***
They
arrived in Munich just before five o’clock and during the journey Edgar and
Rolf talked through their plans. They would have no contact with each other
while they were in Munich or on the journey to Stuttgart, so if one was caught
there was a chance the other would make it.
‘I’m not terribly sure why we’re taking this route
to Stuttgart: it’s hardly the most direct way,’ said Rolf.
‘True, but when we arrive in Stuttgart it’ll be as
travellers from Munich. That should make us far less suspicious.’
Johannes dropped both Rolf and Edgar off in a side
street by Munich
Hauptbahnhof. It was only around
the corner from the station hotel where the Austrian would be staying and for
Edgar the ten-minute walk to the Bayerischer
Hof on
Promenadeplatz
not only meant he would not be seen getting out of a van delivering fish at the
hotel, but also gave him the opportunity for a bit of fresh air and the chance
for the smell of the van to evaporate.
On the Wednesday morning both men were on eight
o’clock train from Munich to Stuttgart. They had stood close to each other on
the concourse at the
Hauptbahnhof, as arranged,
but did not exchange a word nor make eye contact. Both were carrying a small
suitcase in their left hand and holding their hats in their right, the signal
all was well. They purchased seats at opposite ends of the same carriage so
they could spot if there were any problems, but the journey was
straightforward. Their papers were checked as they boarded the train and once
during the journey after the stop at Augsburg, but each time the guards seemed
more bothered their tickets were in order.
Both men had bought copies
of that day’s edition of the
Münchner Neueste Nachrichten
and they made sure they were prominent as they arrived in
Stuttgart, where security was far more noticeable. Their papers were checked but
neither man was pulled out of the queue for their bags to be searched. They
took different routes to the Hotel Victoria, Edgar arriving 15 minutes after
Rolf.
Milo had reserved rooms for the two men close
to each other on the second floor and just across the corridor from the back
stairs that led down to the hotel basement. Hidden in an envelope taped to the
underside of the wardrobe in Rolf’s room was a key to the basement and a note
as to where to find Henry, Rosa and Sophia. It was 1.30 in the afternoon when
Edgar reckoned it would be safe to knock on Rolf’s door. The two men stood in
the tiny bathroom, the tap running to mask their voices.
‘You have the key?’
Rolf dangled it in front of Edgar. ‘She says they’re
hiding in a room at the rear of the basement – here, she’s drawn a map.’ Rolf
handed the piece of paper to Edgar.
‘I don’t like the fact she took such a risk, putting
it down on paper like that.’
‘What else was she meant to do? You need to decide,
when do we go down and do we go together?’
‘Just let me have another look at that note.’ Edgar
read it carefully, nodding his head, formulating a plan. ‘She says she comes on
duty at 11 o’clock tonight and we’re to wait in our rooms. She’ll come up to us
between 11.30 and midnight, apparently. I don’t think we can risk waiting until
then, they’ve been here almost a week already. You have Henry’s new identity
papers?’
Rolf gestured towards his small suitcase.
‘Good. Let me tell you the plan then you go down and
bring Hunter up here.’
Rolf was impressed with Edgar’s plan; it was not
without considerable risk and would require nerves of steel, but it was clever.
He then left the room and went down the back stairs that led down to the
basement. It took him ten minutes to check it was clear then navigate his way
through to the room hidden behind the boiler. When Rosa heard him she cried out
in fear.
‘It’s me Henry: Rolf. You remember me from Zürich?’
Henry clasped Rolf by the arms.
‘It’s alright Rosa – don’t cry Sophia. Rolf’s a
friend. He’s come to rescue us. Are you here on your own, Rolf… When can we
leave?’
Rosa had lit a candle in the room and Rolf glanced
around in the dim light. It was cramped, with rusty equipment against the walls,
and blankets and an old mattress on the floor. The heat was oppressive and
there was a foul smell.
‘Yes, we’ve a plan, don’t worry. First you need to
come with me Henry, just for few minutes – don’t worry Rosa, he won’t be long.’
***
There
was only enough space for the three men to stand more or less shoulder to
shoulder in Rolf’s bathroom, which meant Edgar and Henry were facing each
other. When Edgar finally spoke, after a minute of looking Henry up and down
with the makings of a sneer on his face, his voice could only just be heard
above the noise of the tap.