Adrian D'Hage - The Maya codex

‘That wouldn’t surprise me in the least. I’ve been reading Der Mythus des Zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts – it’s excellent, excellent,’ Hitler emphasised, slapping his thigh again. ‘Alfred Rosenberg has it absolutely right. The lower race of Jews has corrupted the Aryan culture, and we must pursue the purification of the master race with every fibre of our being. We are building the foundations for a Reich that will last a thousand years!’ Hitler’s eyes blazed as he warmed to his theme. He got up from the table and placed his hands on the window casing.

‘With that in mind, mein Fuhrer,’ Himmler said, quickly seizing his moment, ‘I’m planning to set up a research establishment to promote the purity of our ancestral heritage. The bulk of the funding will come from big industrial conglomerates like Bayerische Motoren Werke, which will also fund archaeological expeditions to the Middle East, Tibet and Guatemala. For Guatemala we’re planning to use an Austrian, Professor Levi Weizman.’

‘Weizman? That sounds Jewish?’

‘We’re looking into that, mein Fuhrer,’ Himmler replied evasively. ‘The Mayan hieroglyphics are notoriously difficult to decipher, however, and Weizman is one of the most eminent scholars in the field.’

‘I wouldn’t trust him,’ Hitler warned, ‘any more than I’d trust Felici or Pacelli.’

‘Weizman will not be difficult to control. We already have a great deal of information on him, including the fact he has a young wife and family. After our mission is complete, we can dispense with all of them.’

Hitler grunted.

‘The expedition will be led by Hauptsturmfuhrer von Hei?en, a promising young SS officer,’ Himmler continued.

‘Ah, yes, I met him at the Reichstag. A fine young man. If we’re to undo the damage the Jews and the Christians have inflicted on the Fatherland, Himmler, we’re going to need many more like him.’

T all and blond, with piercing blue eyes, Hauptsturmfuhrer von Hei?en embodied Himmler’s vision of the powerful male of the master race. Von Hei?en stood at the bar of Heim Hochland, the first of the Aryan-breeding homes Himmler had set up in the countryside to assist German girls to give birth to racially pure children. In a memo to the SS, Himmler had stressed the need for German births of good blood and urged his SS officers to spread their Aryan seed. Heim Hochland provided von Hei?en with the opportunity to sleep with a young woman of the right breeding, one who was free of the syphilis he’d encountered more than once in the brothels of Berlin.

Doctor Rainer Drechsler, a small, thin man with a nervous twitch in his right eye, watched without interest as one of the women under his care put on a gramophone record. Couples began to circle the dance floor to the sounds of a Decca recording of ‘Darling, My Heart Says Hello To You’. Von Hei?en had never mastered the art of dancing. Time to plant some seed, he thought, and he poured himself another Glenfiddich, spilling the malt whisky onto the white damask bar runner. He wandered over to Doctor Drechsler, glass in hand.

‘The sultry one in the red dress over there in the corner. She’s mine. Introduce me,’ he demanded thickly. Drechsler shrugged and moved towards the tall blonde sitting on her own at a table.

Von Hei?en followed unsteadily, stumbling against a table and knocking it over, sending the wine glasses to shatter on the wooden floor.

‘May I present Miss Katrina Baumgartner,’ the doctor intoned impassively.

Katrina looked up. Her eyes were pale blue and her skin milky white.

‘Von Hei?en. Hauptsturmfuhrer Karl von Hei?en,’ the SS captain slurred, clicking his heels. ‘What are you drinking, Fraulein?’

‘I don’t drink, Hauptsturmfuhrer,’ Katrina Baumgartner replied coolly, eyeing von Hei?en with disdain.

‘Nonsense.’ Von Hei?en snapped his fingers at one of the dining-room staff. ‘ Rotwein fur das Fraulein. Where are you from?’ he asked, pulling out a chair.

‘Berlin,’ Katrina replied, her eyes glazed with boredom.

‘And what brings you here?’ Von Hei?en leered.

‘I’ve been assigned to the Lebensborn program, so I didn’t have much choice. But surely you know that, Hauptsturmfuhrer.’

‘Quite an honour,’ von Hei?en observed, ‘for a woman to be able to serve the greater Reich. I myself am about to deploy to the jungles of Guatemala, although that is top secret. Tomorrow I will meet with Reichsfuhrer Himmler, who has personally selected me for the mission. We are going to search for archaeological evidence that the Aryans were at the heart of the great Mayan civilisation.’

Katrina raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘We will also be looking for a secret codex that’s been missing for centuries. It could be of great value to the Reich!’

‘If it’s top secret, then perhaps you shouldn’t be talking about it?’

‘You, I can trust,’ von Hei?en slurred. ‘You’re on the program, and you’re of good German stock. If you were a Jew or a gypsy, it would be quite a different matter.’

‘And if I told you I have a number of Jewish friends who are good, decent citizens?’

‘Then I would advise you to be careful, Fraulein. Very careful. Have you read The Protocols of the Elders of Zion?’

‘Should I have?’

‘Most certainly. I will arrange for a copy to be sent to you. The Fuhrer himself has endorsed it…’ Von Hei?en reached for his glass, almost toppling out of his chair. ‘Anyway, for the moment, I’m going to have to put up with a Jewish professor on my expedition, although he will have a use-by date.’ Von Hei?en’s laugh was deep and guttural. ‘But it’s very noisy in here,’ he added, standing and reaching unsteadily for Katrina’s hand. ‘Let’s go to your room.’

She looked at him, contemptuous of his highly polished knee-high boots and the immaculately tailored Hugo Boss uniform, all black save for the red-and-black Nazi swastika armband. She reluctantly rose from the table.

Von Hei?en sat on the side of the bed and wrestled with his boots. ‘I’d get into something very comfortable if I were you,’ he said lustfully.

Katrina Baumgartner let her red dress fall to the carpet of her large, comfortably furnished room. Her black lace bra and knickers contrasted with her smooth white skin.

Von Hei?en ogled her long legs and struggled out of the rest of his uniform. He stood up and lurched towards her. Katrina sidestepped his advance and von Hei?en stumbled back against the bed.

‘Not very ready, are we, Hauptsturmfuhrer?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, look at it,’ she said, laughing as she slipped into bed. ‘Any smaller and I wouldn’t be able to find it.’ It was a dangerous, albeit calculated ploy. Katrina knew well that the more pressure a man was under to get it up, the higher the failure rate, especially amongst the arrogant Officer Corps. She couldn’t have known, of course, that von Hei?en’s first girlfriend had also had a fit of the giggles, or that von Hei?en had been forced to find solace in the brothels of Berlin ever since.

‘Fick dich!’ Von Hei?en swung his fist at Katrina, but she deftly swayed to one side. He bellowed in pain as he connected with the bedhead, falling back onto the pillows.

‘I wouldn’t try that again, if I were you, Hauptsturmfuhrer,’ she warned, picking up the buzzer from the bedside table. ‘I might have been forced on to this program, but this alarm is connected to the Security Office, and unless you behave, I will call them. Now,’ she said, raising one eyebrow, ‘are you going to get that thing up? Perhaps you’d like another whisky before you try?’

Von Hei?en sat back against the pillows and nursed his hand, his bloodshot eyes blazing with anger. Katrina got out of bed and walked over to the sideboard. ‘Down this,’ she said, returning with a large tumbler of Chivas, ‘it’ll put you in the mood.’