Jack Higgins: To Catch a King

‘Oh, I should imagine the obvious ploy would be to make sure the Duke got on the boat to the Bahamas whether he wanted to or not, which is where you come in, Schellenberg. The Führer feels you would be the ideal man to speak to the Duke on our behalf. Offer any assistance he may need. Financial, for example, if that is necessary. Whatever happens, the Duke must be given help to reach the country of his choice.’

‘Even if that proves to be the Bahamas?’

Von Ribbentrop glanced at him. ‘My dear Schellenberg, as I’ve told you before on many occasions, that facetiousness of yours could well be the death of you one of these days.’

‘My apologies, Minister.’

‘To continue. If the Duke should prove in any way hesitant the Führer would have no objection to your helping him reach the right decision.’

‘By force?’

‘If necessary. Naturally, it will also be your responsibility to see that the Duke and his wife are not exposed to any personal danger. A hunting trip into Spain is all it takes. Once you have them over the border, the rest is simple.’

Schellenberg said, ‘And this is a direct order from the Führer himself?’

‘But of course.’ Von Ribbentrop passed an envelope across. ‘You’ll find everything you need in there. Total authority. I can only wish you well and envy your inevitable success in this matter.’

Heydrich sat by the window in his office holding the document in his hand.

FROM THE LEADER AND CHANCELLOR

OF THE STATE

MOST SECRET

General Schellenberg is acting under my direct and personal orders in a matter of the utmost importance to the Reich. He is answerable only to me. All personnel, military and civil, without distinction of rank, will assist him in any way he sees fit.

Adolf Hitler

‘Nonsense!’ Heydrich said. ‘Sheer bloody nonsense and all built on totally false assumptions.’

There was a knock on the door and a young secretary entered with a file which she placed on his desk. She went out without a word and Heydrich tapped it with a finger.

‘In here, Walter, is everything you need to know about the Duke of Windsor – everything recorded about him, but what have I taught you to be the first and most fundamental principle of intelligence work?’

‘As the Jesuits put it; by the small things shalt thou know them.’

‘Exactly. It is not what a man says or what people say about him that is the truth. It is how he behaves, for character is action.’ He tapped the file. ‘And nowhere more so than with this man. How would you describe him – in the world’s eyes?’

‘A contradiction. Concerned about his fellow men – his attitude to the English working classes proved that – and yet fond of luxury and pleasure. A difficult man; reserved.’

‘Perhaps. Certainly stubborn.’

‘Because of his stand on the question of marrying the Duchess? Some people might find that admirable. In the past, the hypocrisy of many kings of England in sexual matters is a fact of history. Perhaps the Duke was actually taking a moral stance on this occasion as a matter of principle. To do otherwise, to humiliate the woman he loved might have seemed to him the most contemptible thing he could imagine.’

‘When he was serving with the British Military Mission in France in what was meant to be a dead-end job, he managed to make several tours of the Maginot Line.’ Heydrich opened the file. ‘There is a copy here of a letter sent to the War Office by Major General Vyse. He gives details of a report by the Duke after an inspection of the French First Army and summarizes it as follows:

1 There is little attempt at concealment.

2 The revetment of the anti-tank ditches is weak. Other anti-tank obstacles do not seem to be adequate.

3 Wiring against infantry coincides on location with anti-tank obstacles so that the same bombardment would destroy both.

4 Anti-tank crews seem insufficiently trained.

5 Work does not seem to be carried out intensively and very few troops were seen.

‘You see?’ Heydrich said. ‘Every evidence of a first-class military mind. Anyway, take it away. Go through the whole file. Get to know the man and then at least you’ll know what you’re talking about.’

‘You wish me to take on this task?’

‘I’m not certain. I’ll let you know this evening. In the meantime, do me the usual departmental report. Everything von Ribbentrop said. I want it all down on paper.’

When Schellenberg reached his own office he called in Frau Huber, Heydrich’s confidential secretary. She was thirty-eight, a sensual, rather fleshy-looking woman with no make-up, her hair pulled back from her face in a tight bun. She was a war widow already; her husband, a Sturmscharführer in the Leibstandarte SS Division, had been killed during the French campaign. In her simple white blouse and skirt, she was surprisingly attractive.

Schellenberg quickly dictated an account of his meeting with von Ribbentrop. ‘As soon as possible, please.’

She went out and he opened the Windsor file and started to work his way through it. It didn’t take long, just under half an hour. As he finished, Frau Huber returned with the completed report. He checked it over and signed it.

‘The usual copies?’ she asked.

‘Yes, one for the Reichsführer, one for me and one for the file.’

She went out. He sat there frowning for a moment, then picked up the phone and asked for Admiral Canaris at Abwehr Headquarters on the Tirpitz Ufer.

The admiral, it seemed, was not available. Schellenberg smiled. That probably meant that as it was Thursday afternoon, Canaris would be riding in the Tiergarten. He picked up the telephone, ordered a car and left quickly.

When Frau Huber went into the copying room, there was only a middle-aged woman on duty who was unfamiliar to her.

‘Who are you?’ she demanded.

‘Irene Neumann, I usually work in Central Office.’

‘I see. Run this through the machine now. Three copies. One for the boss, one for General Schellenberg and one for me. I’ll wait.’

The other woman set the machine up quickly. For your eyes only – most secret . She took in that much and then the phrase Duke of Windsor seemed to jump right out at her.

Frau Huber lit a cigarette and paced about the room restlessly. ‘Hurry up, for God’s sake.’

As the machine started, the phone rang in her office and she hurried to answer it. It was a routine matter taking only three or four minutes to handle. As she finished writing a memo, there was a nervous cough and she turned and found Irene Neumann standing there.

‘Three copies, you said, Frau Huber?’

‘All right. Put them on the desk.’

The other woman did as she was told and went out. Back in the copying room she closed the door carefully, then opened a drawer and took out the extra copy of the Windsor report that she had made. She folded it carefully, raised her skirt and slipped it inside the top of her stocking.

A moment later, the door opened and a young woman in SS auxiliary uniform entered. ‘Have you been busy?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Good. You can go now.’

She started to unbutton her uniform jacket and Irene Neumann took down her coat from behind the door and left.

Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was fifty-two. A U-boat commander of distinction during the First World War, he was now head of the Abwehr, the Intelligence Department of the German Armed Forces High Command. Although a loyal German he, like many of the officer class, loathed most aspects of the Nazi regime, an attitude that was to lead to his downfall and execution towards the end of the war.

Schellenberg was on close personal terms with him and they frequently rode together in the Tiergarten. As he waited beside his car, he could see the admiral now, cantering along the ride between the trees followed by his two favourite Dachshunds who were obviously experiencing some difficulty in keeping up with him. He saw Schellenberg when still some little distance away, waved and turned towards him.