Hans Kirst - The Night of the Generals

“Hasn’t he ever been back to Germany in the meantime?”

“He couldn’t do so without risking arrest. To begin with, he was officially posted as a deserter. The end of the war disposed of that charge, but he’s still under suspicion of murder, even now. A man called Grau, a member of German counterespionage in Paris, was probably the only person who knew the whole truth, but he was killed. That’s how the Hartmann case got into the hands of your police. There’s no statute of limitations governing murder, so his name is still on their files. Hartmann knows that these records exist and that they contain enough circumstantial evidence to put him away for life.”

“It must be a terrible weight on his mind,” Ulrike said softly. “He was a sensitive person.”

“He tried to get over it by resolving never to speak or think about it again, but it was hopeless, of course. He’s one of those rare people who would genuinely like to begin a new life.”

“What sort of life?

“Ah, that’s the vital question. Perhaps you’d like to ask him about it yourself?”

Ulrike had turned very pale. “You mean it would be possible for me to speak to Rainer in person—here in Berlin?”

“That’s precisely what I mean,” said Prévert. “When I looked at my watch earlier I was only making sure we wouldn’t miss the arrival of a certain aeroplane. Will you come with me?”

“Yes,” she said, then added: “But I shan’t know how to behave.”

“Behave naturally,” Prévert advised her. “I’ll give you a few hints on the way to Templehof. The rest I leave to your instinct.”

“I feel absolutely at sea.”

“You’re wrong,” Prévert smiled encouragingly. “I’m the only one who’s entitled to feel that. I feel as though I had just handed over the keys of a safe. I may be the only person who knows the combination, but without the key I’m powerless to open it—and the key is in your hand, mademoiselle.”

Extracts from notes made by Lieutenant Felix Steinbeisser, formerly a serving officer in the so-called National People’s Army. Steinbeisser graduated from the ranks of the Free German Youth and, after a spell of regimental duty, joined the East German Ministry of Defence as a political staff officer. In1957he left the German Democratic Republic because of a “crisis of conscience” and transferred his allegiance to West Germany, where he set up as a military expert on Eastern affairs. The following notes, which he described as an expert opinion, were supplied in return for a fee: “Although he kept himself in the background, General Tanz was a prominent figure in the National People’s Army. If he lacked popularity, it was because he seemed either unable or unwilling to come to terms with the political questions of the day. He was strictly a soldier.

“After his capture in Silesia he spent several crucial years in the Soviet Union, and although his name was never explicitly mentioned in connection with the ‘National Committee for Free Germany,’ I regard it as conceivable that he maintained some degree of contact with that body.

“General Tanz probably played a major role in the creation of the National People’s Army and is said to have been responsible for much of its high-level planning. From March 1955 onwards he was transferred to active duty in the Dresden area, where he commanded an armoured corps.

“In 1956 General Tanz withdrew from the public gaze, and I have never (officially) heard of him since. My innate respect for historical accuracy forbids me to discuss current speculation on the subject.”

Extracts from instructions given to Kahlenberge by Professor Kahlert, formerly a captain on General von Seydlitz-Gabler’s staff. They have been reconstructed from notes made available by Herr Kahlenberge.

“First I must extend our sincere thanks to you for offering to give this lecture. When I say ‘our’ I am referring to a group of people with similar ideals. Our political club, whose full title is the Society for the Revival and Protection of Traditional Responsibilities—’The Traditionalist Club’ for short—draws its membership from distinguished ex-officers, patriotic students, reliable graduates from other associations of various kinds, responsible scientists and enlightened artists. In short, you will have an audience to whom you can speak bluntly and with the candour of an old army man.

“I hardly need tell you that we believe in complete freedom of thought. This does not, of course, mean that we fail to uphold the inalienable validity of certain fundamental national rights. I say this solely for your information and in the implicit belief that in your case, my dear sir, such explanations are totally superfluous. If I give them nevertheless, it is purely a matter of routine.

“Bear in mind, first, that the reunification to which we all aspire so earnestly has always been imperilled by the other side, never by us; secondly, that ours is the only Germany with a claim to sovereignty; thirdly, that Bonn is not Pankow; and, fourthly, that if Germans ever start shooting each other we should be quite clear from the outset which side the good German is on. Ours is the only just cause.

“But why am I telling you all this? You must be fully alive to the true state of affairs in Germany today. You were a general. If we cannot rely on men like you, on whom can we rely?”

Telephone conversation between the Ministry of the Interior, East Berlin, and Central Police Headquarters, Warsaw. The speakers: Detective-Inspector Liebig of Dresden and Detective-Inspector Roman Liesowski of Warsaw. This conversation was noted down by the East German renegade whose shorthand records have been quoted in an earlier interim report. It was conducted in German.

Liebig: “I got your wire about the possible connection between Warsaw 1942 and Dresden 1956.”

Liesowski: “It’s only a possibility. Not having seen your files I can’t give a firm opinion.”

Liebig: “I had a long conversation with Monsieur Prévert of the Sûreté today. Do you know him?”

Liesowski: “Only by reputation.”

Liebig: “Prévert has particulars of a third case which occurred in Paris in 1944. I’ve looked through them. The details bear an astonishing resemblance to those of the Dresden case.”

Liesowski: “It can’t be pure coincidence.”

Liebig: “No, but what if Prévert’s got something up his sleeve?”

Liesowski: “Look, you’re dealing with a sex crime, that’s all. What are you scared of?”

Liebig: “Nothing I can put my finger on. I just feel uneasy about working with the man. He’s a tricky customer. That’s why I’d like you to come to Berlin.”

Liesowski: “I’ll take the first ’plane—be with you by midday tomorrow. We’ll see what happens then.”

Instructions given to Ulrike von Seydlitz-Gabler by Prévert during the drive from the Restaurant Kopenhagen to Templehof Airport. Their gist was as follows: “Try to give the impression that your meeting was accidental. Don’t go rushing at him. On the contrary, give him a chance to recognize you. He’ll need a moment or two to get used to the idea.

“The more you get him to talk about himself, preferably in general terms, the less likelihood there will be of his asking you awkward questions—though in my experience people remember the questions they’ve asked far better than the answers they get.

“I’m most anxious to create a pleasant atmosphere for Hartmann. I want him to feel at home—and therefore secure.

“Try to put over the following points: it’s never advisable to travel into the Eastern sector in the evening or at night, so it would be better if he spent the night on this side of the border. Advise him to stay at the Pension Phoenix in the Nürnberger Strasse. Here’s the address. I’ve made sure there’s a room available for him.