“You are certainly correct, Herr Reichsprotektor. However, Herr Daumer’s activities have gotten a little out of hand in this case. The Führer was unhappy with the quality of the food and the level of service at the last banquet. I am attempting to solve the immediate problem.”

  “You run the party. Can you not fix this?”

  “I can and I will. I am concerned about the safety of Herr Wicklein. I am sending him down to manage the banquet.”

  “And you are afraid your fair-haired child will fall and skin his knees?”

  “Thank you for your time, Herr Reichsprotektor,” Schloss said as he turned to walk away.

  “Wait,” Himmler said as he grabbed Schloss’s arm.

  Schloss turned and raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “You should be more patient. Why is it that you need security for Wicklein?”

  “Herr Daumer has replaced most of the key people at Brown House with his cronies,” Schloss explained. “I question their loyalty to the Reich. And they like Herr Wicklein and me not at all. And the Führer doesn’t want to hear about it.”

  Himmler nodded slowly. “I understand. One hears things. Herr Daumer is particularly venal. This puts you in a bad position.”

  “You are correct. I cannot fire him, and the explosion, when it inevitably occurs, will naturally land on me.”

  Himmler snorted softly, which was the equivalent of a belly laugh. “I fully understand the dilemma you face. Very well, Herr Parteileiter, I will send you four officers. I would like a full report if anything happens.”

  “I understand, and thank you for your help.”

  Himmler shrugged. “We cannot allow the actions of a wild man in Munich to embarrass the Reich. I understand the Führer’s reasons for not wanting to rock the boat right now. But you should be prepared to move quickly when the opportunity will surely present itself.”

  “Oh, I understand.”

  Himmler turned and nodded to his assistant, who politely stood out of earshot. “Come, Reinhard, we have much to do at the office.”

  Schloss watched as the man who was perhaps the most feared of anyone in Germany left the room. He wondered how many pockets the Reichsprotektor had picked. At his level, that was the job of the underlings. Himmler was more circumspect in his extra-curricular activities than Göring, for example.

  Schloss had always found that distasteful. He never expected Rainer to shake down businesses and individuals to support his lifestyle. He had always lived modestly, and before joining the Nazi Party, Rainer had been known, as the Americans called it, as an honest cop.

  Hitler, who was nobody’s fool, had recognized Schloss’s lack of venality and rewarded it with gifts of corporate stock and even cash bonuses. The Parteileiter was suspicious of the source of some of the largess, but where the Führer was concerned, it was wise not to ask questions.

  § § §

  May 27, 1941, 2 PM

  Karl Rainer’s Office

  Nazi Party Offices

  Berlin, Germany

  “I have another job for you, Gerhard,” Karl Rainer said.

  “I am at your orders, mein Herr.”

  Rainer studied the other man for a few moments. “Laying it on a bit thick today, Gerhard?”

  “Of course not,” Wicklein replied. “I merely wanted you to understand that I’m willing to serve.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Rainer’s eyes twinkled. “The Führer will attend a party banquet in Munich on 9 June. Herr Schloss would like you to get down there to manage the procurement and set up for the banquet. The Führer was unhappy with the arrangements last time.”

  “And nobody is ready to get rid of Herr Daumer, correct?” Gerhard asked.

  “You didn’t hear it from me, but that is exactly what we think.”

  “And Daumer’s people in Munich will hate me for this.”

  “Herr Schloss will ask Himmler to send four officers along with you and Erich. They will provide security,” Rainer stated.

  “I think Daumer is already suspicious of me,” Wicklein commented. “After this, he will have his knives out. I assume the Parteileiter knows we are pulling Daumer away from the trough?”

  “The Führer expressed his unhappiness to Herr Schloss over the management of the last banquet in Munich. He wants that fixed. But, he is not interested in replacing the leadership at Brown House.”

  “That kind of puts the Parteileiter in a tough position,” Wicklein said.

  “It does. It goes without saying, Gerhard, that you need to walk carefully. There’s no telling what would happen if this thing blows up in our faces.”

  “I shall be very careful. When do you want me down there?”

  “Yesterday would be good,” Rainer grinned. “It depends on when Himmler can get your reinforcements over here. And I think Herr Schloss will send a message to Daumer telling him what to expect.”

  Gerhard bit his lower lip. “Daumer is going to be incredibly glad to see me.”

  Rainer pointed his index finger at Wicklein. “Neither the Parteileiter nor I can fly down to Munich to retrieve the situation if you allow things to explode. So be careful.”

  “There seems to be a lot going on right now,” Gerhard commented.

  Rainer shook his head. “The OKW is getting ready to kick off the Führer’s next big project, and everyone is busy.”

  Gerhard returned to his office and began sorting through the paperwork that had accumulated during his meeting with Rainer. The stuff seemed to never stop coming in. Brucks was fully engaged in managing the flow, which was the only thing that allowed Gerhard to survive.

  Most of what he saw was routine, and as he shuffled the paper, it allowed him to think about his latest assignment. He stood again and walked to the door to see if Erich Strang was in the office. The SS officer happened to look up when Gerhard stood in the doorway. Wicklein pointed a finger at him and nodded his head towards the office. Moments after he had seated himself, Strang walked in.

  “Wie gehts, Gerhard?”

  “Got your bags packed, Erich?”

  “Where are we going this time?” Strang asked.

  “Warsaw, where else?”

  Strang clamped his hand over his forehead and dropped into the chair across from Gerhard.

  “Mein Gott, not again.”

  “Just kidding. We’re going to Munich,” Gerhard grinned. “But we will probably be there for a couple weeks.”

  “At least we won’t have partisans shooting at us.”

  “Don’t speak too soon. Herr Schloss wants me to go down and manage the upcoming banquet for the Führer. We will have some extra SS personnel along to provide security.”

  “Daumer is going to roll around in the Klackermatsch when he hears about this,” Strang exclaimed. “Why don’t they give us the easy jobs?”

  Gerhard raised his eyebrows and gazed at Strang.

  “Okay, okay,” Strang continued. “I suppose they give us these tasks because we always deliver. But you know, Gerhard, the odds will catch up with us sooner or later.”

  “I refuse to accept that, Erich. We have been successful because we have made our own luck. We just have to be careful.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “I’m actually terrified,” Gerhard replied. “So, I guess I’ve got you fooled.”

  “Leck mich!” Strang said.

  “Ha. I will choose to ignore your crudity. Anyway, I think your job will be to manage the SS people. I have no idea who Himmler will send. I will have to deal with Daumer.”

  “I suppose I should get out there and prepare a reception for our reinforcements from the SS.”

  Wicklein smiled. “You do sarcasm well, Erich. Have you forgotten you are SS?”

  “The more I work with you, Rainer, and Schloss, the more I try to forget why I have this uniform.”

  Wicklein raised an eyebrow in question.

  “You people are human,” Strang continued. “I am not sure of the provenance of many of the people in the SS.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt at all of their lineage,” Wicklein said. “Hopefully, they won’t step aside if Daumer decides to eliminate us.”

  “Thanks; I’ll remember that when Daumer’s thugs are trying to kill us.”

  Wicklein shrugged. “We are getting ready to make some people very unhappy. But the Parteileiter is behind us, and I think the Führer has given his implied consent. If Daumer is smart, he will smile and be a happy little monkey until we leave.”

  “I certainly hope that is the case,” Erich responded.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  May 29, 1941, 7 PM

  Central Germany

  “I think we are going to earn our pay this time, Gerhard,” Erich Strang said.

  Wicklein looked out the train window as the early evening German scenery passed. He turned back to Strang.

  “Herr Daumer certainly didn’t react well to Herr Schloss’s memo. I don’t normally like having many SS people around, present company excepted, of course.”

  “Of course,” Strang replied.

  “But I feel a bit more comfortable with the added security. This is going to be a tough one.”

  The two men sat in Gerhard’s compartment in the wagon-lits or sleeping car. Rainer could not secure tickets for them on a Lufthansa flight or reserve a Wehrmacht plane for their use. Gerhard was not happy about traveling by rail, but there was no denying the comfort and luxury of doing so. They had finished a very nice meal in the dining car, which told them the shortages were not biting everywhere.

  “You have not said much about how you plan to proceed,” Strang commented.

  “And I apologize for that, Erich. We had to throw this operation together in a tearing great hurry, and I am just now thinking about the plan for Munich.”

  “That’s a bit dangerous, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, it’s very dangerous. We started behind the curve on this project and have yet to catch up. We will arrive too early for them to serve us breakfast on the train. Let’s get everyone checked into the hotel, have breakfast, and then we can all go over to Brown House. I want to see what, if anything, they have done to prepare for the banquet. That will be our starting point.”

  “I thought you would be staying with Katlin’s parents.”

  “I would like to; however, if things get ugly, I don’t want them caught in the crossfire.”

  “I understand. We don’t want that. It’s probably more secure to stay at the hotel with the guards around.”

  “I thought that, too,” Wicklein said.

  “What do you want to bet that after they heard you were coming down that they destroyed all the records of the banquets, so you would have to start from scratch?”

  “That’s a sucker’s bet, Erich,” Gerhard replied. “I will be very surprised if they have not done so. However, I handled some of these banquets before moving to Berlin. I remember most of what I need to know. If you can keep those swine off my back, I think we can get this done with no problems.”

  “Getting exposure with the Führer probably won’t hurt, either.”

  “Now, that is something I want to avoid,” Gerhard stated. “I would much prefer that the Führer not even know my name.”

  “It’s probably too late for that,” Strang commented.

  “Oh, that is the truth. I met him at a banquet in Munich, but I doubt he remembered me. But running into a burning house kind of brought my name to his attention.”

  Strang laughed. “You just have to quit running into burning houses, Gerhard.”

  “We all know why I had to do what I did, but that one time was unquestionably once too many. My leg still hurts.”

  At a tap on the door, Strang jumped up and slid it open.

  “The steward is here, meine Herren,”

  A plump little man in a Deutsche Reichsbahn uniform eased into the compartment carrying a tray. It held a pitcher and two cups.

  “I thought you might enjoy some coffee after dinner, meine Herren.”

  “I did not see you earlier,” Strang commented.

  “Busy tonight. I am helping the regular steward.”

  “And who is the regular steward?”

  “The regular steward is… Thomas.”

  Wicklein picked up one of the coffee cups and sniffed at it. He set it down again when the steward mentioned the name. Strang grabbed the man by the arm.

  “I think we need to have a further conversation with you, little man. Guards!”

  The guard slid the door open. “Yes, Herr Lieutenant?”

  “Detain this man. You can keep him in my compartment for now. I need to have a conversation with him. And find a bottle to pour the coffee into. When we get to Munich, have it tested for poison.”

  “It does smell funny,” Wicklein said.

  “Are you going to be up for a while, Gerhard?” Strang asked.

  “I’m certainly wide awake at the moment. By the way, tell the guard to wash his hands after he handles the coffee.”

  “That’s an excellent idea. I will talk to you later.”

  One of the guards, an SS corporal, walked into the compartment to retrieve the tray and coffee. He was wearing gloves.

  “I’m glad you and the lieutenant were so observant. This could have been an unpleasant evening.”

  “More so for some of us,” Gerhard commented.

  “Indeed. We can protect you from direct physical threats, but this sort of thing is hard to detect. You clearly have enemies.”

  “It’s sad when you make enemies for doing the right thing,” Gerhard said.

  “Mein Herr, we will do our best to keep you and the lieutenant safe.”

  After the guard left the compartment, Gerhard stretched out in his seat. It was still early, and he was not sleepy. He wondered if he would sleep tonight. He added an item to his mental checklist. He would call Karl and tell him about the attempted poisoning as soon as he could get to a telephone. He was convinced that the source of the attacks over the past months had been in Munich. And now he was going to visit the adder’s nest.

  Wicklein pulled a book from his bag and turned to the bookmarked page. Karl continually fed him books to read. This one was The Wealth of Nations by Adam Smith. In addition to the material, Gerhard used the book to develop his ability to communicate in English. He wondered how Karl had acquired the book. The Nazis frowned on works that advocated the free market.

  An hour later, Strang returned. He raised an eyebrow at Gerhard’s activity.

  “I’m amazed you can concentrate on that after what happened.”

  “There is nothing else to do. And it’s more useful than that garbage you read.”

  “My books stimulate the imagination and creativity,” Strang said piously.

  “If you say so. Now what about our erstwhile steward?”

  “He’s from Munich and is a clerk at Brown House.”

  “Ho!” Wicklein exclaimed. “The plot thickens.”

  “Right. He claims he acted on his own initiative. And as you probably surmised, smart as you are, the claim doesn’t hold water.”

  Wicklein looked down at his book. He replaced the mark and closed the volume. He looked at Strang again.

  “Which leaves us the question of whether this came from Daumer or someone else in the Munich hierarchy. Like maybe Merten Burkhart.”

  “Another graduate of the Brownshirts.” Strang’s face twisted at the mention. “Has he ever directly threatened you, Gerhard?”

  “He wasn’t happy when I moved over to the party offices. He also went to work at Brown House after Daumer took over. He acted like he was glad to see me when I was there for a courier run. But he also suggested that my career would improve if I went to work again for him instead of Schloss.”

  “That’s interesting. I think we have troubles with the current staff at Brown House.”

  “There’s no question about that,” Gerhard replied. “Karl and I have discussed it at length. He indicated that Herr Schloss had spoken with the Führer about it. Since Munich is the birthplace of the Nazi Party, Hitler doesn’t want a purge of the place because of the optics.”

  “More likely, he allows it to keep the Parteileiter off-balance.”

  “I had considered that. What are you going to do with our ersatz steward?”

  “I want to get him back to Berlin and under lock and key,” Strang replied. “And I want to do it without Brown House hearing about it. I have been instructed not to seek assistance from the SS in Munich. Heydrich told me that they may be compromised.”

  “That’s not good news, Erich.”

  “No, it’s not,” Strang admitted. “The good news, if it can be so-called, is that nobody wants this to come to the attention of Himmler or the Führer. That limits their ability to escalate.”

  “We think.”

  “We think,” Strang agreed.

  “Do you know any of the SS people in Munich personally?” Gerhard asked.

  “I know a few.”

  “Let’s detail two of our guards to escort the prisoner back to Berlin. They won’t leave the train in Munich. When they reach the next stop, they can debark and grab a train for Berlin. Then you can pull some strings to get a couple of your friends to fill in for the guards in Munich.”

  Strang rubbed his chin. “That might work. I don’t like leaving us uncovered, though.”

  “As you mentioned, there are limits to which they will want to escalate. I mean, we saw that with the steward. I don’t think we would have an open attack.”

  “I don’t like the risks, though,” Strang commented.

  Wicklein shook his head. “We have an array of bad choices, Erich. Pick one.”

  “You’re the optimistic one,” he grinned. “I’d have to vote for your recommendation.”

  “I guess that makes us a democracy of two.”

  “I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Strang retorted. “Let me talk to the guards. I think we will have to keep the prisoner in my compartment. I’ll have to sleep in here.”

  Gerhard waved an index finger in his direction. “Erich, people will talk. How about if you sleep with the prisoner.”

  “Very funny,” Strang responded sourly.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

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