Philip Kerr - Berlin Noir

‘Sounds like quite a party,’ I said coldly. My escort grunted without much enthusiasm. Any kind of party is better than late-night guard-duty in November. We went through a heavy oak door and entered the great hall.

All German castles should be so Gothic; every Teutonic warlord should live and strut in such a place; each inquisitorial Aryan bully should surround himself with as many emblems of unsparing tyranny. Aside from the great heavy rugs, the thick tapestries and the dull paintings, there were enough suits of armour, musket-stands and wall-mounted cutlery to have fought a war with King Gustavus Adolphus and the whole Swedish army.

In contrast, the sitting-room, which we reached by a wooden spiral staircase, was furnished plainly and commanded a spectacular view of a small airfield’s landing lights a couple of kilometres away.

‘Help yourself to a drink,’ said the lieutenant, opening the cabinet. ‘If there’s anything else you need, sir, just ring the bell.’ Then he clicked his heels again and disappeared back down the staircase.

I poured myself a large brandy and tossed it straight back. I was tired after the long drive. With another glass in my hand I sat stiffly in an armchair and closed my eyes. I could still see the startled expression on Kindermann’s face as the first bullet struck between the eyes. Weisthor would be missing him and his bag of drugs badly by now, I thought. I could have used an armful myseif.

I sipped some more of the brandy. Ten minutes passed and I felt my head nodding.

I fell asleep and my nightmare’s terrifying gallop brought me before beast men, preachers of death, scarlet judges and the outcasts of paradise.

Monday, 7 November

By the time I finished telling Heydrich my story the general’s normally pale features were flushed with excitement.

‘I congratulate you, Gunther,’ he said. ‘This is much more than I had expected. And your timing is perfect. Don’t you agree, Nebe?’

‘Yes indeed, General.’

‘It may surprise you, Gunther,’ Heydrich said, ‘but ReichsFührer Himmler and myself are currently in favour of maintaining police protection for Jewish property, if only for reasons of public order and commerce. You let a mob run riot on the streets and it won’t just be Jewish shops that are looted, it will be German ones too. To say nothing of the fact that the damage will have to be made good by German insurance companies. Goering will be beside himself. And who can blame him? The whole idea makes a mockery of any economic planning.

‘But as you say, Gunther, were Himmler to be convinced by Weisthor’s scheme then he would certainly be inclined to waive that police protection. In which case I should have to go along with that position. So we have to be careful how we handle this. Himmler is a fool, but he’s a dangerous fool. We have to expose Weisthor unequivocally, and in front of as many witnesses as possible.’ He paused. ‘Nebe?’

The Reichskriminaldirektor stroked the side of his long nose and nodded thoughtfully.

‘We shouldn’t mention Himmler’s involvement at all, if we can possibly avoid it, General,’ he said. ‘I’m all for exposing Weisthor in front of witnesses. I don’t want that dirty bastard to get away with it. But at the same time we should avoid embarrassing the ReichsFührer in front of the senior S S staff. He’ll forgive us destroying Weisthor, but he won’t forgive us making an ass of him.’

‘I agree,’ said Heydrich. He thought for a moment. “This is Sipo section six, isn’t it?‘ Nebe nodded. ’Where’s the nearest S D main provincial station to Wewelsburg?‘

‘Bielefeld,’ Nebe replied.

‘Right. I want you to telephone them immediately. Have them send a full company of men here by dawn.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Just in case Weisthor manages to make this Jew allegation against me stick. I don’t like this place. Weisthor has lots of friends here in Wewelsburg. He even officiates at some of the ludicrous S S wedding ceremonies that take place here. So we might need to mount a show of force.’

‘The castle commandant, Taubert, was in Sipo prior to this posting,’ said Nebe. ‘I’m pretty certain we can trust him.’

‘Good. But don’t tell him about Weisthor. Just stick to Gunther’s original story about K P D infiltrators and have him keep a detachment of men on full alert. And while you’re about it, you’d better have him organize a bed for the Kommissar. By God, he’s earned it.’

‘The room next to mine is free, General. I think it’s the Henry I of Saxony Room.’ Nebe grinned.

‘Madness,’ Heydrich laughed. ‘I’m in the King Arthur and the Grail Room. But who knows? Perhaps today I shall at least defeat Morgana le Fay.’

The courtroom was on the ground floor of the west wing. With the door to one of the adjoining rooms open a crack, I had a perfect view of what went on in there.

The room itself was over forty metres long, with a bare, polished wooden floor, panelled walls and a high ceiling complete with oak beams and carved gargoyles. Dominating was a long oak table that was surrounded on all four sides with high-backed leather chairs, on each of which was a silver disk and what I presumed to be the name of the S S officer who was entitled to sit there. With the black uniforms and all the ritualistic ceremony that attended the commencement of the court proceedings, it was like spying on a meeting of the Grand Lodge of Freemasons.

First on the agenda that morning was the ReichsFührer’s approval of plans for the development of the derelict north tower. These were presented by Landbaumeister Bartels, a fat, owlish little man who sat between Weisthor and Rahn. Weisthor himself seemed nervous and was quite obviously feeling the lack of his cocaine.

When the ReichsFührer asked him his opinion of the plans, Weisthor stammered his answer: ‘In, er… in terms of the, er… cult importance of the… er… castle,’ he said, ‘and, er… its magical importance in any, er… in any future conflict between, er… East and West, er…’

Heydrich interrupted, and it was immediately apparent that it was not to help the BrigadeFührer.

‘ReichsFührer,’ he said coolly, ‘since this is a court, and since we are all of us listening to the BrigadeFührer with enormous fascination, it would I believe be unfair to you all to permit him to go any further without acquainting you of the very serious charges that have to be made against him and his colleague, UnterscharFuhrer Rahn.’

‘What charges are these?’ said Himmler with some distaste. ‘I know nothing of any charges pending against Weisthor. Nor even of any investigation affecting him.’

‘That is because there was no investigation of Weisthor. However, a completely separate inquiry has revealed Weisthor’s principal role in an odious conspiracy that has resulted in the perverted murders of seven innocent German schoolgirls.’

‘ReichsFührer,’ roared Weisthor, ‘I protest. This is monstrous.’

‘I quite agree,’ said Heydrich, ‘and you are the monster.’

Weisthor rose to his feet, his whole body shaking.

‘You lying little kike,’ he spat.

Heydrich merely smiled a lazy little smile. ‘Kommissar,’ he said loudly, ‘would you please come in here now?’

I walked slowly into the room, my shoes sounding on the wooden floor like some nervous actor about to audition for a play. Every head turned as I came in, and as fifty of the most powerful men in Germany focused their eyes on me, I could have wished to have been anywhere else but there. Weisthor’s jaw dropped as Himmler half rose to his feet.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Himmler growled.

‘Some of you probably know this gentleman as Herr Steininger,’ Heydrich said smoothly, ‘the father of one of the murdered girls. Except that he is nothing of the kind. He works for me. Tell them who you really are, Gunther.’