Стив Берри - The Kaiser's Web--A Novel

But carefully. Slowly. Methodically.

Remember Hitler’s error.

Don’t rush it.

He was ensconced on the castle’s third floor, the room paneled in native Hessian wood, the ceiling vaulted and tinted in varying shades of green. A Black Forest clock filled one corner and was less than forty-five minutes away from striking a chorus for midnight. Papers were strewn across an oak table ringed by four straight-backed chairs. The chamber was once where electors gathered to cast their ballots, as a previous owner of the castle possessed one of the precious votes for choosing the Holy Roman Emperor. He used the space for staff meetings since it sat in the upper reaches and ensured privacy.

He reached for a pitcher of beer and refilled his stein.

He glanced at the oil paintings on the walls. The scenes varied. Monks in prayer. An armored knight wearing a look as though it pained him, and another with a lord and lady glancing down disapprovingly. Each was an original of some value, not masterpieces, but collectibles. He liked them, and that was all that mattered since he thought it important to be surrounded by things one liked. A light tap on the door and one of the stewards entered and said, “There is a visitor downstairs.”

He gripped the stein and started to enjoy the beer. “Who at this late hour?”

“Kurt Eisenhuth.”

He showed no annoyance, though the imbecile’s presence here, in his home, was a problem. But the meaning behind the man’s appearance caused him even more concern.

Something was wrong.

“Bring him up.”

As the steward left, he stepped to the window and glanced below. He hoped that, beyond the walls, the media was down for the night. Earlier, his staff had reported that no reporters were camped at the base of the drive leading up to the courtyard entrance, everyone apparently satisfied that the candidate was home until morning. They’d retake their positions early tomorrow, ready for another day on the campaign trail. He was ready, too. Things were finally starting to happen.

And now this.

Kurt Eisenhuth entered the room.

“Close the door,” he said, not turning from the window. After the bolt clicked shut he said, “I hope this is important.”

“Marie confronted me a couple of hours ago. She wanted to know about large sums of money that have been transferred from a Chilean bank into the company accounts. Money she says came from Hitler’s Bounty.”

He kept the smile to himself, brushed a strand of hair away, then slowly turned. “And the problem?”

“She was never supposed to learn about that.”

He shrugged. “These things happen.”

“You said there was nothing to worry about from that inspector in Chile.”

“The revelation to her was necessary.”

“What does that mean?”

The voice rose with anger. Interesting.

“Just what I said. She needed to know.”

“Are you insane? If a connection is established to the past, she and I are both finished.”

He stepped to the table and found his beer. “Come now, Kurt. Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic? Blame it all on her father.”

“I did. But she is also aware of transfers after his death.”

“Do you monitor every euro that makes its way into the company coffers? No. Simply say Albert Herzog set all that up and you are only now becoming aware.”

Kurt stepped forward, closer, too close. “You and I both know that the majority of that money has come after her father’s death. He’s been gone a long time.”

He savored more of his beer, assessed the threat, and said, “This is no time to become self-righteous. That money compensated for a lot of hard times.” He paused. “And bad management. I do not recall any objections from you.”

“That was something started by Albert. I simply inherited the benefit and took advantage of it.”

“But you accepted the funds. No questions. No refusals. Hitler’s Bounty has been quite good to you.”

“You are insane. You’ll be the ruin of us all.”

He tabled the stein. “Your wife must be stopped. Her time as our leader is over. Oma must be sent into retirement. She wants to reveal me as some kind of Nazi, but it is she who is the true fascist. She who benefited from that evil. The nation will fully understand her hypocrisy once this information is revealed.”

“And you plan to publicize it?”

“I will not have to. That’s the wondrous thing about this web I’ve woven. Once the transfers are confirmed and the source verified, which will not be hard, your wife will do all that for me. Ideologues are like that. Their own sense of personal worth compels them to insane honesty. She will reveal it all for me. I won’t have to do a thing, except express my outrage. My party will then be swept into power.”

“You perhaps underestimate Marie.”

“Spoken like a devoted husband. I applaud your loyalty, though I did not believe you cared.”

“Am I to be sacrificed as well?”

Now the real reason for the visit.

He shrugged. “Come now, Kurt. Many German corporations profited from the war and little has come of it, except for some token payments to survivors. They thrive and people forget. I tell you this, I shall reimburse whatever the corporation must pay in reparations.”

“With more dirty money?”

“It spends the same as the clean.”

“You did not answer my question.”

He was witnessing a side to Kurt Eisenhuth never seen before, one that seemed to trigger self-preservation. But, he realized, even the weakest animal was programmed to survive. So he decided to be conciliatory. “No, Kurt, you are not to be sacrificed.”

“Marie will not rest until she knows everything. I cannot have her discovering my involvement. I just managed to lie my way through a difficult encounter with her.”

“Are you afraid that your weakness will diminish you in her eyes? She will think less of you? I thought your relationship had deteriorated past such pettiness.”

“You don’t know anything about our relationship.”

He leveled his gaze and said, “I know your marriage is virtually nonexistent. I know you have several mistresses. So why not a new beginning for you? No more pretending. Be who you are. Why all this hostility?”

“You want me to turn on Marie? Publicly?”

“Why not? Plead ignorance. Blame her father. After all, he was a Nazi.”

“She will defend him against all.”

“Precisely. To her detriment.”

He noticed Kurt’s features soften, as if his anger passed as quickly as it matured. He’d read the man correctly.

But that wasn’t all that difficult.

He wanted to smile, like a man who’d just solved a devilishly ingenious puzzle, but knew better.

Instead he bore in. “I am the hope for this nation, Kurt. You and I both know that. The time for apologists is over. Our atonement must end. Marie is the product of an era that has passed. I am the one who must fulfill Germany’s destiny. We have to deal with reality, Kurt. As much as we may not like that reality, we have no choice.” He, too, kept his tone low, like a father counseling a child. “Marie is a disappointment. You know that. Which is why you and I aligned to start with.”

“I fully realize that.”

The concession came on a breath.

Kurt Eisenhuth was a tool, nothing more, and on that point Hitler was correct. Like a dutiful farmer, use your tools, care for each, then store them away to be used another day.

Time to store this one away.

“Kurt, perseverance is what we need. I have the situation under control. So go home. Be patient. And I assure you, your wife will be the only casualty from any of this.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE