The Munich Faction 2: Enforcer, page 9
part #2 of The Munich Faction Series
They stepped out onto the street where the Opel Kapitän waited. The driver stood by the back door and opened it for them. Erich walked over to him.
“Wait here, please. We will be back shortly.”
As they turned, Gerhard noticed Jurgen watching from the doorway.
“Let’s go,” Erich said. “I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
“Our minion is standing in the doorway,” Gerhard replied. “I’m sure he is waiting to trot upstairs to report to the director.”
Gerhard was nervous about turning his back on the party headquarters as they set out across the square. If something were to happen, it would happen quickly. It would take less than a minute for them to reach the doorway of the SS headquarters, and he wondered if that was too long. The guards in front of the SS headquarters had noticed Strang’s uniform and watched them curiously.
“Pull out your credentials, Gerhard,” Erich muttered. “Things may start to happen quickly.”
Gerhard eased his papers from his pocket and saw that Erich had done the same. They heard a shout behind them and looked to see four guards trotting out of the party headquarters and following.
“All right,” Erich called, “let’s go.”
They both broke into a run as they closed in on the entrance to the SS headquarters. The guards at the entrance jumped to alertness and brought their rifles up. Strang held his credentials open so the badge was plainly visible, as did Gerhard.
“I need to see the director,” Strang said when they reached the doorway.
The two guards looked at each other, and one turned to pull open the door for them. They stepped into the lobby of what was once maybe a department store. An SS Lieutenant sat at a table in front of them. They laid their credentials on the table in front of the Lieutenant.
“We would like to see the director if he is in,” Strang said. “It is important.”
“Please wait over there,” the lieutenant said, pointing to the corner.
They walked over to the corner and stood as the lieutenant picked up his phone.
“What do we do now?” Gerhard asked.
“We wait.”
Five minutes later, an SS Captain led them to the second floor and into an office where an SS major sat.
“And who might you be, Lieutenant?” the major asked.
“I am Lieutenant Erich Strang, seconded to the Parteileiter’s office in Berlin. And this is Gerhard Wicklein, also of the Parteileiter’s office.”
“Kind of you to visit,” the major said. “By the way, I am Jacob Kraus. The Director asked me to handle the meeting.”
Strang looked at Wicklein, who spoke. “Thank you for seeing us, Herr Major. I have been conducting an audit of the party membership rolls in Warsaw. We decided to come over here when we completed the task because we were concerned about our safety.”
Kraus smiled thinly. “I just received a phone call from Herr Gebel. He demanded that I place you under arrest for violating the security of the Reich.”
Then he and Strang smiled at each other, and Kraus spoke again. “Of course, he may not understand that the SS decides who will be arrested in Warsaw. What can I do for you today, meine Herren?”
“We need to arrange for safe transport back to Berlin,” Strang said.
“We can do so, but I need authorization to make the arrangements.”
“Is the authority of the Parteileiter sufficient,” Wicklein asked, “or would you prefer to contact Berlin for advice?”
Kraus smiled again. “Word got around after your adventure in Breslau. So, I know who you are. And Lieutenant Strang’s reputation has spread widely. If he is not afraid to tangle with Gestapo agents, then what you face here must be serious.”
Strang blushed. “I am simply doing my job, Herr Major.”
Kraus nodded. “I understand. As you know, the SS cannot be seen taking sides in these intra-party matters, so we must consider ways of getting you safely out of here without disturbing the polite fiction.”
“I appreciate your courtesy,” Wicklein said. “We were concerned about a possible attack by partisans on our way to the airport. And personally, I worry that they might have done something to the aircraft.”
The SS Captain tapped on the door. “Herr Major, Herr Gebel wishes to speak with you.”
Kraus drummed his fingers on the desktop. “The man certainly earns points for being brassy. Whatever did you do to push him to this state, Herr Wicklein?”
“I saw his membership records. Not the ones that he sent to Berlin.”
“I see,” Kraus raised his eyebrows. “I believe I would like you present when Herr Gebel speaks with me. It will probably be interesting.”
“I have no problem with that,” Wicklein said. “Do you see a problem, Erich?”
Strang shook his head. “I also think it will be interesting.”
Kraus pointed to the captain. “Please show Herr Gebel in.”
“At once, Herr Major.”
The florid-faced party director marched into the room and stopped in front of the desk.
“I demand that you arrest these two immediately! They have absconded with critical and confidential party information. I worry that this will have a negative impact on our administration of this province.”
Kraus stared at the party functionary long enough to burn through the arrogance.
“What is the nature of the critical and confidential documents that these people stole?”
“Well, they are obviously confidential,” Gebel sputtered.
“May I remind you, Herr Director, that every law enforcement matter I deal with in this office is confidential? I cannot simply arrest someone because you said he was bad. The investigators from Berlin would laugh me out of the room.”
“If you must know, he has party membership records, and as you know, we don’t publish those.”
Kraus looked over at Wicklein. “Is it true what the director said?”
“It is not. The party membership records in my possession are photocopies of what Herr Gebel sent to Berlin. I took photographs of the records in the file room here in Warsaw and made notes on the discrepancies. I did not remove any of the records from the building.”
“If he took photographs, he has Reich property,” Gebel shouted. “It must not be allowed!”
Kraus bit his lower lip as he gazed around the room. Gebel was breathing heavily as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“Who do you work for, Herr Wicklein?” the major asked.
“I work for Karl Rainer, the Special Assistant to the Parteileiter.”
“And does the Parteileiter review your work?”
“He does. Herr Rainer usually presents summaries of my work to him, but sometimes he looks at the details.”
Major Kraus turned back to Gebel. “Are you suggesting, then, Herr Gebel, that the Parteileiter has no right to see your confidential files?”
“That is not what I am saying,” Gebel protested. “I’m very concerned when two men, whom I do not know, waltz into my office and demand access to my files. How am I to know whether they represent the Parteileiter or the janitor in the Reich Chancellery?”
“Do you now,” Kraus asked softly, “compare our beloved Führer to a janitor?”
Gebel turned white. “No, no! That is not what I meant at all. Do not take my words out of context.”
“That is what it sounded like to me. Do you suppose a rational man might suspect you are setting up your own little fiefdom in Warsaw that is not accountable to the Parteileiter or the Führer?”
“No! That is not true at all. I am obligated to preserve the confidentiality of party documents. That is what I am trying to protect.”
“Did you have reason to doubt the credentials these men presented to you?”
“Credentials can be forged.”
Kraus slapped the desk. “Answer my question!”
“I believe their credentials are forgeries.”
Kraus looked over at Gerhard and Erich. “I apologize for this unseemly meeting, meine Herren. Could you give me your credentials, please?”
“Of course, Herr Major,” Strang barked.
“Captain!” Kraus shouted.
“Yes, Herr Major?”
“Take these credentials down to documents and have them validated, and then bring us coffee.”
“At once, Herr Major.”
“You may wait outside, Herr Gebel,” Kraus said.
After the door closed, Kraus grinned broadly at Wicklein and Strang.
“I don’t know if he realizes it, but our friendly party director has tied a garrote around his nether regions. He is getting ready to have a coming out party.”
Strang winced. Some of his previous activities notwithstanding, he reminded himself that Germans should never screw around with the SS.
“Judging from this situation, Herr Wicklein,” Kraus said, “I suspect the documents Herr Gebel sent to Berlin bear only a passing resemblance to what you found in his files here.”
Wicklein nodded. “I believe that is a fair assessment.”
“Then, after I send Herr Gebel away with his tail between his legs, we must arrange secure transport for you back to Berlin.”
“That is my fondest hope, Herr Major.”
Kraus favored them with his wintry smile. “I thought that might be the case.”
Gerhard decided that whatever else you could say about the SS, and that included Erich, was that they could be scary bastards. Within ten minutes, the captain returned the credentials to Major Kraus. The major wordlessly handed the paperwork back to Strang and Wicklein. He continued sipping the coffee as he studied the captain.
“Captain, as we prepare to make things unpleasant for Herr Gebel, perhaps you could arrange an aircraft to return these two gentlemen to Berlin. And also transportation to the airport.”
“Of course, Herr Major.”
After the captain left, Kraus continued sipping his coffee. “I really must apologize for the quality of my coffee. I cannot seem to convince anyone to ship us something drinkable.”
“It’s bad all over,” Wicklein commented. “We appreciate your hospitality, though.”
“You are certainly welcome. And I could not pass up the opportunity to poke a stick in Herr Gebel’s eye. I would appreciate it if you would pass the word that he has become a nuisance in Warsaw.”
“I can certainly deliver that message, Herr Major.”
The major slapped his hands on his legs. “Yes, well, I suppose it wouldn’t do to keep the object of our affections waiting. Captain!”
“Yes, Herr Major?”
“Please ask Herr Gebel to come in.”
“Of course, Herr Major.”
Gebel was sweating profusely when he marched back into the major’s office. Wicklein concluded this was not entirely due to the warm day.
“Herr Gebel, thank you for bringing your concerns to the SS,” Kraus said. “We will take care of the investigation from here.”
“But what about these two,” Gebel sputtered. “We cannot allow them to abscond with confidential information.”
“As I told you, Herr Gebel, the SS will take things from here.”
“That is not acceptable. I cannot accept that!”
“Perhaps you misunderstood me, Herr Gebel,” Kraus stated in a voice slightly warmer than liquid helium. “The SS has assumed responsibility and will investigate your complaint. At your convenience, we will send an SS investigator to examine the documents. Is that acceptable?”
Gebel seemed to wilt as he stood in Kraus’s office. “Obviously, there has been a misunderstanding, Herr Major.”
“Oh, I don’t think I have misunderstood you at all. Perhaps we can satisfactorily resolve things if I take you into custody.”
Gebel turned pale. “Perhaps I was hasty, Herr Major. As far as I am concerned, these two are free to go.”
The party director stood wringing his hands as Kraus stared at him. Kraus then looked at Wicklein.
“Have you everything you need from Herr Gebel to complete your tasks in Warsaw, Herr Wicklein?”
“Yes, Herr Major.”
“Fine. Herr Gebel, you may return to your office. Please be prepared to receive an SS representative.”
After the ashen-faced party director stumbled from the office, Kraus looked at Wicklein.
“I assume Captain Weber has arrangements made for your transportation. He is efficient. Have a good trip back to Berlin.”
“Will you communicate the results of your investigation, Herr Major?” Strang asked.
Kraus laughed. “That’s a party matter, Lieutenant. I have no intention of involving myself in the question. I simply wanted Herr Gebel to sweat a bit.”
Wicklein snorted. “I’d say you had his undivided attention.”
“That was the idea.”
The ride to the airport was uneventful. Strang and Wicklein boarded a Siebel Fh 104 transport for the flight to Berlin. The five-passenger aircraft was comfortably decorated, and the SS Captain had thoughtfully included a basket with sandwiches and bottles of Lager.
As the airplane climbed into the western sky, Wicklein turned to Strang.
“I think we made the major’s day.”
“Herr Gebel must have made himself odious in Warsaw. It sounded like the major was looking for the chance to clip his wings.”
“I say he took full advantage of the opportunity,” Gerhard laughed. “It will be interesting when I report back to Herr Rainer.”
“For now,” Erich replied, “let’s enjoy our repast.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
April 22, 1941, 7 AM
Office of the Parteileiter’s Special Assistant
Nazi Party Headquarters
Berlin, Germany
“It seems we can’t send you anywhere without you getting into trouble, Gerhard,” Karl Rainer said.
“It certainly seems to follow me,” Wicklein replied. “I decided Erich needed a little excitement in his life.”
“Herr Schloss will not like owing the SS a favor, but I think it was well merited in this case.”
“Erich came up with the idea,” Gerhard said. “I’m glad he did.”
“I sent the order to the Gestapo office in Warsaw to have Herr Gebel and his three assistants arrested.”
“I know we don’t like stirring the pot right now,” Gerhard said, “but this was pretty blatant even by Nazi party standards.”
“The problem we face right now is we’re going to have to send someone out to manage that office until we can get a permanent replacement there, Gerhard.”
Rainer waited, watching Wicklein for a reaction. After a moment, Gerhard jumped.
“Oh, no,” Wicklein exclaimed. “You aren’t going to send me, are you?”
Rainer laughed. “Gerhard, you are so easy sometimes. And you blush so well, too.”
“Warsaw is probably my second least favorite place on earth, Breslau being first. On the other hand, I know what needs to be done if you can’t find anybody else to go.”
“I’m not going to do that to you, Gerhard. At some point, though, we will have to do something about Marcel Daumer. You would be the first choice to run that office, and it would be a permanent posting.”
Gerhard leaned back in his chair. “I would have never considered something like that.”
“Well, Herr Daumer has yet not quite stuck his hand in the sausage grinder. But the day is probably coming. Herr Schloss commented that he and the Führer had a conversation about him. Since Brown House in Munich represents the birthplace of the Nazi party, we have to walk carefully around personnel decisions there.”
“It would be nice for Katlin to be back near her family. She does not like Berlin that much. I know that should not be the reason for a move; however, it is a consideration on my part.”
“We are not making an announcement today,” Karl replied with a smile. “So don’t start packing yet.”
“I’m sure that’s a relief to you, Karl. If we moved to Munich, you would miss my lovable personality.”
Rainer rolled his eyes and sighed. “Maybe I will send you back to Warsaw.”
“Perhaps I should reconsider the wisdom of some of my statements,” Gerhard replied.
“There is a first time for everything. Anyway, we need to talk about the rest of the week.”
Wicklein nodded. He picked up his coffee cup and sipped, grimacing at the bitter taste.
“I am going to need you back on the courier run this week,” Rainer said. “Frau Schloss does not have long to live. It’s a matter of days or perhaps a couple of weeks. But Herr Schloss is spending most of his time at the Krankenhaus. I need you to carry documents back and forth. You know how sensitive some of those can be, and Schloss trusts you.”
“I understand and am honored at the trust you have placed in me,” Gerhard said. “How is Herr Schloss doing?”
“How do you think? The man’s wife is dying. I think he is probably doing better than I would. But we should work hard to avoid placing more stress upon him than necessary.”
Wicklein shook his head. “That is just so sad. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do to help. The Parteileiter has a couple of children, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he has hired a housekeeper to look after them. The children seem to adore her. She intimidates others.”
“How is it that the old Hausfraus are so scary?” Gerhard asked.
“You have noticed that too?” Rainer asked with a crooked grin.
Gerhard chuckled. “It seems you have had experience with them also.”
“Not something I would prefer to discuss. And I should let you go. I think Pankow needs your advice on his project.”
“I had completely forgotten about him,” Wicklein exclaimed. “Yes, I need to check in on him.”
Gerhard returned to his office and groaned at the work piled on his desk. Brucks was usually pretty good at sorting through the mass and making decisions on his own. He wondered what happened. And there was no telling what kind of trouble Pankow had gotten into over the previous few days. It was generally not a good idea to allow two employees to go unsupervised.
He sat down, drank more coffee, and then studied the imposing stack of work on the desk. As he looked more closely, he detected Brucks’ deft organizational skills and concluded the secretary had been struggling with the mounds of paper. As Gerhard debated where to start, Brucks scurried in with a fresh pot of coffee.
