“Nonsense. I am always happy to take a hand in the development of my subordinates. Some need more guidance than others.”

  “That’s twice, Herr Rainer.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Rainer sniffed.

  “Of course.”

  “By the way,” Rainer stated. “You need to stay close this morning. Herr Schloss expects to have a report ready to send over to the Reich Chancellery. The palace guard sometimes gives the other couriers trouble.”

  Gerhard snorted. “Save us from arrogance and self-importance. Those people don’t bother me.”

  “That’s why I’m sending you. Just don’t cause a major incident. The Parteileiter wants to maintain his low profile.”

  “Herr Schloss really hates being the center of attention, doesn’t he?”

  Rainer nodded. “I think he is too much of a loner sometimes. But I have learned not to push him in that regard.”

  “He did not take your advice gracefully, I assume,” Gerhard said.

  “I have learned not to back him into a corner. That’s when his temper is memorable.”

  “I will keep that in mind,” Gerhard replied.

  “You do that. Remember that almost everyone has his limits. Herr Schloss guards his privacy jealously.”

  As he returned to his office, Gerhard decided that the people he worked for had interesting personalities. But they were still very likable. He wondered why so many of the Nazis were thoroughly unpleasant people.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  January 14, 1941, 7:00AM

  Administrative Office

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Strasbourg, Germany

  The Nazi Party Headquarters occupied an ancient building in downtown Strasbourg. The wooden floors creaked alarmingly as the workers moved around the administrative section. Gerhard checked carefully for the location of the stairwells. He was on the third floor, and things would be very bad if there was a fire.

  Erich Strang sat in a chair beside the wall and read a book as Gerhard worked. Sifting through the stacks of party registration records was tedious, but Wicklein was a bookkeeper by trade and could lose himself in the minutia. Still, the nature of this job bothered him. He looked over at Strang.

  “I don’t understand how you can read that garbage, Erich.”

  “I’m trying to improve my proficiency in English by reading. I might as well read something I enjoy.”

  Gerhard leaned over, snatched the book from his hands, and read the cover.

  “The Man Who Went Back,” he intoned. “What’s this supposed to be about?”

  “It’s about a man in 1939 England who suffers an automobile accident and goes back in time.”

  “How is that even possible?” Gerhard asked.

  “It’s not. That’s why it’s fiction.”

  Gerhard snorted. “Goes back in time to what?”

  “Britain immediately following Roman times.”

  “I suppose that would present challenges to someone so afflicted,” Gerhard conceded, “but what’s the point?”

  “Do you go to movies?” Strang asked.

  “Of course. Doesn’t everybody?”

  “That is entertainment. Well, I prefer this kind of entertainment. Plus, I think it stimulates the imagination.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Gerhard laughed. “But a man going back in time? It’s not even logical.”

  He handed the book back to Strang. “Let’s go get a cup of coffee.”

  “An excellent idea, Herr Wicklein.”

  They walked down the stairs and across the street to a delicatessen.

  They grabbed a table and sat down with their cups of coffee. Strang took a deep breath over the cup and sighed.

  “At least there is some coffee to be found in these places. That stuff in the party offices is not fit to drink.”

  “The sanctions are really beginning to bite,” Gerhard responded after taking a sip. “I suppose we should enjoy this while we can still find it.”

  “I expect things to get worse,” Strang replied. “We don’t have a way to protect convoys anywhere. And I think the English and the Americans are paving the North Atlantic with ships.”

  “Herr Rainer worries that the English will talk the Americans into entering the war against us.”

  “They are on the other side of the ocean. What can they do?”

  “Karl says that the size of the American economy dwarfs ours. I mean, we’re already a bit smaller than the English. Look at all the ships they are sending across.”

  “A point, I suppose,” Strang replied. “What does Herr Schloss say?”

  “Not much. But he’s focused on Germany and the Party.”

  “That’s enough for anybody, I think. Are you finding what you need in the audit, by the way?”

  Gerhard nodded. “I think I’m going to write two reports. The official one will say whatever we want it to say. The private report will go to Rainer and probably to Schloss. It will tell us what is really going on.”

  “Wagner hates you, you know,” Strang commented.

  “I saw him long enough for an introduction. How can you say that?”

  “Gerhard, Gerhard,” Strang sighed. “You really must learn how to read people.”

  “That’s easier said than done, Erich.”

  “When I was a child, I was certain Vater could read minds. He always seemed to know what I was thinking at any given time.”

  “That’s not difficult,” Gerhard replied. “At any given time, I pretty much know what you are thinking.”

  “Give it a rest, Gerhard. I’m trying to explain something to you.”

  Gerhard folded his hands and bowed toward the SS lieutenant. “Speak, Master. The servant hears.”

  “Do you want to hear this or not?” Strang snarled.

  “If I don’t listen, you will probably pout all day.”

  “Mein Gott! Okay, I will continue, but simply because you are my friend. I don’t know why. But you need to know this. Vater once explained to me that there was nothing magical about what he did. If you take the time to study people’s faces and posture, you can get a good idea of what’s going through their minds. I think Vater had a natural talent, but I have spent time putting his suggestions into practice. For example, you obviously wonder why I am wasting your time with this.”

  “That’s not too hard to figure out, Erich.”

  “Perhaps I should just shut up.” Strang snapped.

  Gerhard threw his hands in the air. “Since you’re not going to let this go, I probably should let you continue.”

  “Better. You need to start paying attention to people. I know you can do it. I’ve seen you on the courier runs. Your situational awareness is quite good.”

  “That’s a matter of survival,” Gerhard grumped.

  “Exactly. And you need to do that all the time. You don’t think Wagner is a threat? He is a vicious animal. He looks at me and sees my SS uniform, and is cautious. And you are hiding behind Herr Schloss’s authority. Never forget that Hitler is his patron. He can get away with almost anything.”

  “Like causing us to disappear,” Gerhard remarked.

  Strang nodded slowly. “He could. He would burn some goodwill doing that because Hitler listens to Schloss. But ultimately, Schloss and even Himmler have to walk carefully around Wagner. So, pay attention to the potential threats.”

  “Okay. Point taken. Our job is to smile and act like we’re too young to know what’s happening. But we must pay attention.”

  “Correct. Now enjoy your coffee, Gerhard. If we do a good job here, perhaps the Parteileiter will allow us to continue to ride around Germany in his Condor.”

  “It is certainly more comfortable than the JU88.”

  “And don’t forget it.”

  § § §

  January 27, 1941, 10 AM

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  “Why do you keep bringing me this dreck?” Heinrich Schloss shouted. “I expect you to tell me what this means, not just puke the same old tables on the paper. I can’t give this to Rainer and Wicklein to make sense of it. I wouldn’t even lay this out for my dog to Scheisse on. You need to find somebody to teach you how to make sense of the data. I don’t have the time, nor does anyone else in this office. Now get out of my sight!”

  Gerhard sat in his office with the door open. He listened open-mouthed to the exchange, including the flutter of paper when Schloss threw the unbound report at the hapless clerk. Then the building seemed to shake when Schloss slammed his office door.

  Wicklein quietly stood and walked to the door. The clerk was on his knees, gathering dozens of sheets of loose paper from the floor. The people in the office seemed embarrassed and would not look at the clerk. The man stood and retreated from the room, or maybe slunk. Yes, Gerhard thought, slunk was the word.

  Gerhard slipped over to Rainer’s office. The Schloss’s Special Assistant was watching when Wicklein stepped into view. He waved him into the office.

  “Shut the door, Gerhard,” he said quietly.

  Gerhard eased into the chair across from Rainer. “Herr Schloss is having a bad day.”

  Rainer looked disgusted. “Göring is playing games with him. The fat windbag ought to remember what happened to Bormann.”

  “It must be serious if Herr Schloss is this upset.”

  “Göring is a nothing. Schloss is worried about Hannelore.”

  “Frau Schloss has been ill since the end of December,” Gerhard commented.

  “And she is getting worse. He is trying to find a different doctor.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Rainer said. “Heinrich’s sun rises and sets on Hannelore. I don’t know what he would do if he lost her. And it doesn’t look good.”

  “I suppose I am being selfish, but that could be bad for all of us.”

  “You have no idea how bad it could be,” Rainer stated. “And I’ve probably said too much.”

  “I appreciate how much you do share with me. It really helps me to be effective.”

  “That’s why I do so. And I appreciate your ability to maintain confidentiality. I’ve had to deal with people in the office who talk too much. It’s embarrassing to Herr Schloss when Hess or Göring repeat things people have heard here.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Gerhard exclaimed. “Karl, how can people be so stupid.”

  “Do you share things with Katlin about the office?”

  “I share things about the office generally. There are a lot of things I do not tell her. She should not know.”

  “I think we’ve had people share things with a wife who repeats it in the hearing of somebody who carries it back to other leaders.”

  “I understand how that works. After all, the Nazi Party is one big happy family.”

  Rainer snorted. “That’s one way of putting it, I suppose. We will have to sit everybody down and remind them not to discuss what happens in the office. A very public firing would help.”

  “Do you have someone in mind?”

  “Yes, but that’s all I can say right now.”

  “We could have Erich escort them from the building,” Gerhard suggested.

  Rainer grinned. “That’s a truly evil thought. We need to send a message that we’re not messing around with this.”

  “Anything I can do to help you support Herr Schloss?”

  “You’re doing plenty, Gerhard. Thanks.”

  “I’d better get back to it. I want to wrap up the official Strasbourg report today.”

  “And how is the unofficial one going?” Rainer asked.

  “Just a little polish, and it’ll be ready. I should probably type that one up myself.”

  “Absolutely. Brucks doesn’t need to see that.”

  “Then I need to get out of here since I interrupted your morning.”

  “No, Herr Klerk did that.”

  “The man who doesn’t know how to assemble reports,” Wicklein said.

  “Right. Unfortunately, his type is all too common. It drives Herr Schloss crazy.”

  “No, really?”

  Rainer pointed his index finger at Wicklein. “And the next time we have to deliver some bad news to the Parteileiter, I will send you in with it.”

  “That won’t do much for my life expectancy.”

  “Right. Now, get out of here.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  February 6, 1941, 10 AM

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  Rainer stepped into Gerhard’s office. “Gerhard, can you run this down to Herr Morgen on the second floor? I hate to turn you into an errand boy, but Brucks is over at the Reich Chancellery.”

  “Sure, no problem, Karl,”

  Gerhard stood and accepted the manilla envelope.

  “There is some paperwork in there that he needs to sign. Then bring it back to me.”

  “At once.”

  Following his usual habit, Gerhard trotted down the stairs to the second floor and into the office area. Having interacted with Klaus Morgen before, he went immediately to the other man’s desk.

  “Ah, you brought the paperwork, Gerhard,” Morgen commented as he opened the envelope flap. “I’m sorry Herr Rainer had to put you to the trouble.”

  “I needed to get out of the office anyway, Klaus. I was happy to do it.”

  “This is a proposal to purchase a new building for the party offices in Stuttgart. Herr Rainer decided he wanted my signature on it before he took it to the Parteileiter.”

  The paperwork required several signatures, and Morgen thumbed through the pages and scribbled his signature.

  “I hope you suffered no damage from the air raid last night,” he commented.

  “The closest bomb was about four blocks away,” Gerhard replied, “which is still entirely too close. Of course, Katlin and I were in the basement. Little Karl didn’t appreciate it.”

  “We had some land rather close,” Morgen said. “And it was unpleasant. I wish we could stop the English.”

  “We’re in a war,” Gerhard stated. “We are sending bombers over London every night.”

  “Oh, I understand, and I am not complaining.”

  “And it’s not the Führer’s fault,” another voice interrupted. “When surrounded by incompetence, it’s hard to make anything go right.”

  Gerhard turned. “And who might you be, mein Herr?”

  The tall, swarthy man with his hair in tight greasy curls smiled back.

  “Torkel Rentsch at your service.”

  “And you here to serve?” Gerhard asked.

  “Of course, that’s what all of us little minions do down here. Doing scutwork for our lords on the top floor. How I wish Bormann was still alive rather than that blowhard sitting in his office.”

  Morgen stopped sorting the paperwork and stared at Rentsch.

  “I think you should have a care about what you say, mein Herr,” Gerhard said tightly.

  “I’m only saying what everyone down here thinks. And why should I care what you think?”

  Gerhard pulled his wallet out and flipped it open, showing his ID.

  “As one of those lords on the top floor, I grow concerned when someone is incautious with his speech.”

  Rentsch turned pale and quickly walked away.

  “I think he’s basically harmless, Gerhard,” Morgen said quietly. “You know how some people don’t stop to think before speaking.”

  “And it’s going to get him into trouble sooner or later. He should be thankful it was me. If he said something like that in the hearing of the Gestapo, his life would get complicated.”

  “Very true. There,” Morgen said. He jogged the paperwork on his desk and slid it back into the envelope. That should do it.”

  “Thank you, Klaus. I’ll see you later.”

  “Of course, Gerhard.”

  Wicklein returned to the fourth floor, taking two steps at a time. Katlin fed him well, despite the food shortages. He combatted his growing middle by walking to work as much as possible and avoiding the elevators. He usually left his Party-assigned car in the motor pool, only taking it out for business or if he needed to travel with Katlin.

  He dropped the envelope on Rainer’s desk. “I had to flip my credentials to an employee on the second floor.”

  Rainer looked up at him. “What brought that on, Gerhard?”

  “I was talking to Klaus Morgen, and he just walked up. Talked about the incompetents surrounding Hitler and then the lords here on the fourth floor. He said he wished Bormann was still alive instead of the blowhard sitting in his office now.”

  Rainer turned red. “Do you have a name?”

  “Torkel Rentsch. I hadn’t met him before.”

  “I am not familiar with him, either,” Rainer said. “I’ll take it from here.”

  Ten minutes later, Rainer stuck his head in Gerhard’s office.

  “Herr Schloss’s office. Now.”

  Wicklein grabbed a notepad and pencil and quickly stood. He wondered about the abrupt summons.

  “I want you to explain why you felt the need to show your credentials in the building, Gerhard,” Schloss snapped.

  “This fellow was mouthing off about the leadership. I wanted to snap him back to reality before he said something in the hearing of the Gestapo.”

  “Those credentials are not for casual use. What were you thinking?”

  Bewildered with the sudden confrontation, Wicklein was speechless. Schloss glared at him for a long moment and then seemed to subside.

  “Very well, I’m sorry for blowing up at you, Gerhard. But please be more careful where you flash those credentials. Every time you have to do that, I hear about it from Himmler’s office.”

  “I apologize for being out of line, Herr Parteileiter.”

  Schloss glanced up at Rainer and then back at Wicklein. “Oh, forget about it. Rentsch is a new employee. I will have Karl speak with him. And while I have you, Gerhard, a very nice job on the Strasbourg report; both of them, rather.”

  “Thank you, Herr Parteileiter.”

  Schloss opened a drawer and pulled an envelope out of the desk. “And this is for you. Your performance is excellent as usual.”

  “Thank you, Herr Parteileiter.”

 

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