Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

their roles did not riquire so much preparation as ours.

At the end of the training period my group was broken up and sent to

various locations to await duty. I was sent first to Grvnau, where I

was kept in isolation, then later to a remote airfield at Aalborg,

Denmark. I repeatedly requested to be allowed to see my wife and

daughter, but by this time Germany was at war and my requests were

summarily rejected I spent my time in solitude, reviewing my Hess mate

rials and occasionally being visited by an SD officer I did have access

to newspapers, and from them I deduced that Hess's position in the Nazi

hierarchy seemed to have declined somewhat in favor of the generals

since the outbreak of war I took this to be the reason I had not yet

been assigned a mission.

I must admit that, in spite of the hardship of the duty, I was very

proud of the degree to which I could impersonate the Deputy Fuhrer

During my final interview with H at the school, he was so shocked by my

proficiency that his reaction verged on disorientation.

Actually, a few of the other "students" had honed their skills to a

finer edge than my own, but what happened to them I have no idea ...

Natterman removed his spectacles, put the papers back into his

briefcase, then closed and locked it. "A rather detailed story to be

made up out of thin air, wouldn't you say?

And that's only the first two pages."

Ilse was smiling with satisfaction. "Very detailed," she agreed.

"So detailed that it destroys your earlier argument. If this 'double'

was so meticulously trained to imitate Hess, he certainly wouldn't make

factual mistakes as obvious as missing Hess's birthday, or eating meat

when Hess was a vegetarian. Would he?"

Natterman met his granddaughter's triumphant smile with one of his own.

"Actually, I've been thinking about that since I first translated the

papers. You're quite right: a trained double wouldn't make factual

mistakes like that-not unless he did so on purpose."

Ilse's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Just this. Since the double remained silent for all these years, he

could only have done so for one of two reasons: either he was a

fanatical Nazi right up until the end, which I don't accept, or-and this

is supported by the papers-the fear of some terrible retribution kept

him from speaking out.

If we accept that scenario, Number Seven's mistakes' appear to me to be

a cry for help-a quiet but desperate attempt to provoke skeptics to

investigate his case and thus uncover the truth. And believe me, that

cry was heard. Hundreds of scholars and authors have investigated the

case.

Dozens of books have been written, more every year."

Natterman held up an admonishing finger. "The more relevant question is

this: Why would the real Hess make such mistakes?"

"Because he was crazy!" Ilse retorted. "Everyone's known that for

years."

"Everyone has said that for years," Natterman corrected.

"Hitler and Churchill started that rumor, yet there's not one scrap of

evidence suggesting that Hess was unbalanced right up until the day he

flew to Britain. He trained months for that mission. Can you seriously

believe Hitler didn't know that? Hess was eccentric, yes. But mad? It

was the men he left behind who were mad!"

"Hess could have written those papers himself," she argued. "If Hess

didn't know Latin when he went into Spandau, he certainly could have

learned it during his years of imprisonment."

"True," Natten-nan admitted. "But unlikely. Did you note the quote

from Ovid? High-flying language for a self-taught student. But that's

verifiable, in any case."

Ilse tasted her tea. It had gone cold. "Opa, you can't really believe

that the Allies kept the wrong man in prison all these years."

"Why not? Ilse, you should understand something. These papers do not

exist in a vacuum. They merely confirm a body of evidence which has

been accumulating for decades.

Circumstantial evidence, testimonial evidence, medical evidence-" "What

medical evidence?"

The professor smiled; he loved nothing more than a willing student.

"Evidence unearthed by a British army surgeon who examined Number Seven

while he was in Spandau.

He's the man who really cracked this case open. My God, he'll be

ecstatic when he finds out about these papers.

"What evidence did he discover?"

"A war wound. Or a lack of one, I should say. This surgeon was one of

Hess's doctors in Spandau, and in the course of his duties he came

across Hess's First World War record. Hess was wounded three times in

that war-the worst wound being a rifle bullet through the lung. Yet

when the surgeon examined Number Seven, he found no scars on the chest

or back where that wound should have been. And after looking into the

matter further examining the prisoner's X rays-he found no radiographic

evidence of such a wound. There should have been scarring of the lung,

caused by the force of the bullet and other organic particles tearin

through it. But the surgeon found none. He had quite a b of experience

with gunshot wounds, too. He'd done a tour of duty in Northern

Ireland."

Natterman chuckled at Ilse's bewildered expression.

"You're surprised by my knowledge? You shouldn't be. Any German or

British historian could tell you as much." He laughed. "I could give

you twice as much speculation on who started the Reichstag fire!"

"But the details," she said suspiciously. "Dates, medical evidence ...

It's almost as if you were studying the case when I called you."

The professor's face grew grave. "My dear, you have obviously failed to

grasp the monumental importance of this find. These papers could shake

the world. The time period they describe-the forty-four days beginning

with Rudolf Hess's flight to Britain and ending with Hitler's invasion

of Russia-represents the turning point of the entire Second World War,

of the entire twentieth century. In the spring of 1941, Adolf Hitler

held the future of the world in his hands.

Of all Europe, only England still held out against him. The Americans

were still a year from entering the war. German U-boats ruled the seas.

If Hitler had pressed home the attack against England with all his

forces, the British wouldn't have stood a chance. The Americans would

have been denied their staging post for a European invasion, and Hitler

could have turned his full might against Russia with his flanks

protected." Natterman held up a long, crooked finger.

"But he didn't invade England. And no one knows why."

The professor began pacing the kitchen, punctuating his questions by

stabbing the air with his right forefinger. "In 1940 Hitler let the

British Army escape at Dunkirk- Why?

All through the fall of 1940 and the spring of '41 he delayed invading

Britain. Why? Operation Sea-Lion-the planned invasion of Britain-was a

joke. Hitler's best generals have admitted this.

Churchill publicly taunted Hitler, yet still he delayed. Why?

And then the core of the whole mad puzzle: On May tenth, Rudolf Hess

flew to Britain on a secret mission. Scarcely a month later"-Natterman

clapped his hands together with a crack-"Hitler threw his armies into

the icy depths of Russia to be slaughtered. Ilse, that single decision

doomed Nazi Germany- It gave Churchill the time he needed to re . arm

England and to draw Roosevelt into the war. It was military suicide,

and Hitler knew it! For twenty years he had sworn he would never fight