The Swiss Spy (40 page)

‘As much as I’m a reasonable man Henry and I’m prepared
to give you the benefit of the doubt, I struggle to see how you can possibly
manage to come up with a satisfactory explanation for all this.’

‘For all what, Edgar?’

Edgar inched closer to Henry, clenching and
unclenching his fists.

‘For what? You were supposed to fly from Berlin to Zürich
last Tuesday morning then meet myself and Basil and in Geneva. What happened?’

An embarrassed smile on Henry’s face and a shrug of
the shoulders.
What can I say?

‘I bent the rules a little bit and decided to rescue
Rosa and Sophia at the same time. I thought if I did so then Gunter Reinhart
would be better disposed towards us and provide us with more intelligence.’

‘Oh really, Henry? I’ve never regarded myself as
particularly naïve, but I’d be bordering on the certifiable if I were to
believe a word of what you’re saying. You’ve set yourself up as some knight in
shining armour, rescuing a damsel in distress…’

‘I thought there’d be no harm…’ Henry shifted
uncomfortably, his face now flushed red.

‘No harm?’ Edgar’s voice was raised for a split
second before Rolf nudged him. ‘You’ve seriously jeopardised this mission, the
purpose of which – in case you’ve forgotten – was to collect a document from
Hugo and bring it back to Switzerland. Do you have that document?’

Henry coughed and stepped away as far as he was able
from Edgar.

‘I’m afraid not. I know this is going to sound dreadful,
Edgar, but after we left Berlin it dawned on me there was a possibility we
could be caught. I thought the worst thing that could then happen from a
British point of view was for the documents would fall into German hands, so I
burnt them.’

‘Where?’

‘In some woods where we were hiding on the Tuesday
night. I’m so sorry, I know I failed in my mission, but I felt the alternative
would be far worse.’

Edgar turned around, facing the frosted window. ‘Jesus
Christ,’ was all he could say.

‘We need to get you back to Switzerland as soon as
possible. We can’t risk you being caught by the Germans, as tempting as that
may be in some respects. Heaven knows what you’d say to the Gestapo…’

‘Now, look here Edgar…’

‘No, you look here, Hunter. Rolf and I are putting
our lives at risk by attempting to rescue you. The very least you can do is
co-operate, you understand?’

‘I will, but I’m not leaving without Rosa and
Sophia. I’m adamant about that.’

‘So I’m told and we understand that. We’ll get them
out, too, don’t worry, we have it all worked out. We’ve very good German
identity papers for you: your photo and everything. We also have new Swiss
papers, as you can hardly re-enter as Henri Hesse, not after all the fuss
you’ve caused.’

‘But what about Rosa and Sophia?’

‘We’ve papers for them too, but you can’t leave
together as they’ll be looking for the three of you. If you travel separately it’ll
be less conspicuous. You’ll leave first with Rolf and take the train to
Switzerland: your documentation is good enough to risk that kind of journey. We
can’t risk Rosa and Sophia being stopped and questioned, so I’ll drive them to
the border myself.’

Henry stared at Edgar, his face full of scepticism.

‘Really, you’re sure this’ll work?’

‘It’s the best way, Henry, believe me. Dieter is sorting
out the car: we’ll be able to hide Sophia under the rear seat, and Rosa and I
will look like a married couple.’

‘But how can I be sure you’ll follow on?’

‘I’m hardly likely to stay on in Stuttgart, am I?’

‘You promise me this Edgar – on your life: that
you’ll bring Rosa and Sophia out with you?’

‘I promise you, Henry. You can trust me. Now we need
to move fast. You and Rolf must leave this afternoon. Dieter will bring the car
tonight so I’ll follow with Rosa and Sophia in the morning. All being well, we’ll
meet up in Zürich either tomorrow or Friday.’

Rolf
accompanied Henry back to the basement, where he explained the situation to
Rosa. He could tell Henry was uneasy, he had his head in his hands and kept
shaking it. When Rolf had explained everything, Henry turned to Rosa.

‘What do you think?’

‘I’m not sure what you mean?’

‘Should we go along with this, do as they ask?’

‘What else can we possibly do? They’re right: the
three of us will never make it anywhere near the border on our own, let alone
cross it. Nor can we stay here: it’s only a matter of time before we get
caught. We have to do as your friends suggest.’

There was a brief goodbye, hurried along by Rolf. A
few minutes later he and Henry were back in Rolf’s bedroom.

‘It’s a quarter to three,’ said Edgar. ‘There’s a
train from Stuttgart leaving at 3.30, the last one to cross the border tonight.
You and Rolf will catch it, but first you need to have a shave and a bath, and
get changed: you look a mess and smell like you haven’t had a proper wash for
days. You’d better get undressed in here while Rolf runs the bath for you.’

As soon as Henry went into the bathroom Edgar
whispered urgently to Rolf. The Austrian positioned himself by the bathroom
door while Edgar frantically searched Henry’s clothes and case. It took him
five minutes before he found what he was looking for. He then meticulously
replaced everything as he had found it and beckoned Rolf over. Through the
bathroom door they could hear the sound of splashing. Edgar was holding three
sheets of brown paper with German type on them.

‘The Rostock Report!’ he announced, waving it
triumphantly at Rolf. ‘For some reason he’s taken it out of the envelope.’

‘Are you sure?’ Rolf whispered.

‘Of course I’m sure: I saw it in London,’ replied
Edgar.

‘Where was it?’

Edgar was holding a pair of thick, dark trousers. ‘Inside
the lining, look – that’s why I made him get undressed in here, so I could
check his clothes.’

‘But how come you knew he had it? He told us he’d
burnt it.’

‘Keep your voice down, Rolf. When I was talking with
Basil the other day I told him how one could very easily underestimate Henry. I
simply didn’t believe what he told us and my instinct was correct: he may have
embarked on this mad mission to rescue Rosa and Sophia but, despite everything,
he couldn’t risk upsetting his Soviet masters by not delivering this report
back to them. All the more reason to get him back to Zürich as soon as
possible.’

Through the bathroom door came the sloshing noise of
Henry getting out of the bath.

‘Are you going to be long?’ Edgar asked, as he
carefully replaced the envelope.

‘Five minutes, no more I promise.’

‘And what do I do with him when we get to Zürich?’
Rolf whispered.

‘Check him into a hotel, one of the smaller ones
around the station. Tell him to stay there while you make contact with Basil. Then
leave him, make sure he thinks he’s on his own for a while. Have one your boys
keep a watch, but it’s vital he’s left alone.’

‘Not long now – mind if I use both towels?’

Edgar assured him he could use as many towels as he
wished.

***

From
the window of his room Edgar had watched Rolf and Henry as they left the hotel,
both seemingly relaxed and chatting away. They gave the appearance of amicable
colleagues: a small group of men in the black uniform of the Waffen SS walked
towards them, but there was no hesitation in the step of either agent, and the
SS men politely parted to allow the two men to walk on through. Edgar continued
to watch as the pair walked down
Friedrichstrasse
towards the station, eventually disappearing as dots into the distance.

He would
have to remain in the hotel that evening. Rolf –
Ludwig
Kühn
– had explained to the receptionist he had been
called back
to
Landshut.
So inconvenient, I’m so sorry. I
insist on paying for my room.

Edgar had been discreetly watching this as he
scanned a nearby notice board. The receptionist had insisted this wasn’t
necessary (‘these things happen, Herr
Kühn’)
, but Edgar
knew if two guests checked out within hours of their arrival it could arouse
suspicion. In any event, he needed to see Milo. He would stay the night and
slip away in the morning: ahead of the hounds, with any luck.

Edgar ate early in the hotel’s ornate but largely
deserted dining room and retired to his room. He would wait until Milo came on
duty at 11 o’clock.

***

Because
he had been in his room on the second floor since eight o’clock Edgar was
unaware of what was happening below him.

The police had turned up at nine: the manager was
asked to gather all the staff together in an office. They wanted to know if a
family of three – a man and woman in their mid- to late-thirties and a girl,
perhaps four or five years old – had been staying at the hotel. Unfortunately,
the police told them
, they had no photographs, but they had names and
descriptions.
Please think
carefully; remember they’ll probably have
used different names. The man is Swiss; the woman and child are Jews. It’s
possible they may have split up.

They passed around the sheets with the names and
descriptions on them. No-one recognised them. But at the back of the room was
the young night porter, who had just come on duty. He stared at the sheet;
gripping it tight in the hope no-one would notice his hands shaking. He looked
up and around the room, then back again at the sheet of paper, hoping he had
misread the name on it the first time he had looked at it. It was still there: ‘Henri
Hesse, Switzerland.’ And then the description: unmistakably that of the man who
had turned up the week before asking to see Katharina Hoch.

Even though he had said nothing about it at the
time, the
porter had thought there was something odd about the situation. When
Fraulein Hoch had taken the man to an office well away from reception he had
checked the register. There was no-one staying at the hotel called Hesse. It
was not his place to say anything to Fraulein Hoch and he had thought no more
of it, until now.

‘You’re all certain you’ve not come across these
people, these criminals?’ T
he police officer in charge looked as though he
were in a hurry. ‘We need to move on, you’re not the only hotel in Stuttgart,
you know. Look once more, but remember: withholding information from the
authorities is a serious crime.’

At the end of the month the porter was leaving the
hotel, the time had come for him to join the army. What had his father told him
even the before the war started?
Keep your head down. Don’t get involved. Don’t
express an opinion, never volunteer and do as you’re told.

That was his instinct, to keep his head down and say
nothing. But then what would happen if they caught this man and they found out
he had spoken to him that night and had failed to mention it?
A serious
crime.

The police decided they were going to get no help
from the staff at the Victoria and told them to go back to work. One of the
officers brushed past him as he left the room.

‘Please could I have a word with you sir?’

‘Is it in connection with this matter?’

‘I think it may be, yes.’

The officer called one of his colleagues over and
the two policemen shepherded the
night porter
to a quiet
corner. ‘Tell us.’

‘I’m not sure how relevant this is, sir, but a week
ago I was on duty at reception. Sometime after midnight a gentleman appeared at
reception and asked if Katharina Hoch was on duty.’

‘Who’s she?’

‘She’s the Night Manager.’

‘He said his name was Hesse, from Switzerland. I
asked him which room he was staying in but, before he had a chance to tell me,
Fraulein Hoch appeared from her office behind me and greeted the man, who she
appeared to know. She then took him down a private corridor to an office well
away from reception.’

‘Which day was this?’

‘Wednesday, so really it was in the early hours of
Thursday morning.’

‘You’ve seen the description of the man; does it
match that of the man you saw?’

‘It does sir, very much so.’

‘And what happened after that?’

‘He must have been with Fraulein Hoch for a while – I
didn’t see him again.’

‘And is he still staying here?’

‘Well that’s the odd thing, sir. I checked his name
on the register and there was no record of him staying here that night.’

The
officer signalled to the other policemen with
him to wait. He spoke kindly to the young porter, who looked terrified. ‘We’re
not the Gestapo, you know!’

‘And Fraulein Hoch – when is she next on duty?’

The
porter
glanced at his watch, the one his
grandparents had bought him for his last birthday. ‘In just over an hour, sir –
at 11 o’clock.’

***

Edgar
spent the evening in his room, alternating between resting on the bed and
almost relaxing to getting up and pacing around, peeking out into the street
through the thick curtains or pausing by the door in case anyone may be
approaching.

He became aware of a lot of activity below his
window, cars pulling up and people entering the hotel, and a fair amount of
talking. It was, he decided, what one might expect from a busy city-centre
hotel and, in any case, he was not minded to look out of the window and draw
attention to himself. He would wait in his room until Milo came up, as she had
promised. He waited patiently, even when 11.30 had gone, with midnight soon
after.
Who knows how busy she may be? Another half-hour.

There was no sign of her by half past midnight, when
he allowed himself to open his door as quietly as possible and glance up and
down the corridor. It was empty and there was no note on the floor. An hour
late was worrying, there was no denying that. Edgar stood with his back to the
door, surveying the room. He tried to imagine how it would look to someone
coming in to question him. It looked ordinary enough but he was more concerned
about his false identity. The papers for
Karl Albrecht from Hanover were
good enough, but he was not sure how long he could sustain his story if anyone
suspected him.

By one o’clock he decided to go down to reception. He
would ask if they had any aspirin for a headache.
For some reason I was
unable to get through on the telephone!

He took the main stairs down to the reception. He
opened the glass doors onto the landing before the final flight of stairs swept
down to the entrance lobby, only to be pushed aside by a uniformed policeman
running past him. Edgar paused then edged slowly towards the staircase, just
able to see into the lobby while still hidden in the shadows of the landing. The
area was crowded with police and Gestapo, and in the middle of them was a young
woman. She towered above a man in an ill-fitting suit, who was standing in
front of her.

‘Fraulein Hoch, you have spent two hours refusing to
give a satisfactory explanation as to why this Herr Hesse came to see you.’

‘Look, I keep telling you, why do you not believe
me?’ She sounded annoyed – exactly as Edgar would expect her to do in such
circumstances.
Don’t come across as defensive: the more aggressive you are
the more they may believe you.
‘I know nothing about him. He was a guest
who had stayed here last year. He asked to see me because he was staying at the
Marquardt on Schlossplatz and wanted to see if he could transfer here, but he didn’t
want to make a fuss about it.’

‘At midnight?’ The short man in the ill-fitting suit
looked confused, unsure whether to believe her. Edgar took a step back into the
shadows. He could now hardly see what was going on, but he could still hear
clearly.

‘Very well,’ said the man. ‘Remain in your office
Fraulein Hoch. Oberg, seal the hotel; make sure there are guards on every
floor. No-one comes in or out. First thing in the morning, we shall thoroughly
search this place.’

***

Edgar
crept back to his room on the second floor. They clearly knew Hunter had been
at the hotel, but he had no idea how. Had Henry and Rolf been arrested before
they reached the border? If that was the case, it was possible Hunter would not
only have told them about being in the Hotel Victoria in Stuttgart but would
also have said something about him – but then, if that was the case, they would
be looking for him now rather than waiting for the morning.

Edgar went into the bathroom, undressed and washed
his face in cold water. Speculating on what may have happened merely served to
stop him thinking about more important matters: what to do now. He changed into
his pyjamas and pulled back the sheets and blankets on the bed: if they did
come to his room it must look as if he had been asleep.

There was no question now of his going down to the
basement, even to warn Rosa. What would be the point? Unless Rosa had heard the
commotion and decided to escape they would be found in the morning.

Edgar dozed off in a series of 15- to 20-minute
spells during the night. Each time he woke he lay still in bed, listening for
any hint of a sound. Then he would roll slowly out of the bed and crawl along
the floor to the door. By lying flat he was able to look through the inch-high
gap at the bottom, but not once could he see anyone near his room.

At six o’clock he decided he could not risk dozing
off again. Seven o’clock, he decided, was the earliest he could leave the hotel
without it looking suspiciously early. He checked his small case. There was
nothing in it to give him away, other than his Swiss papers, and they were so
skilfully concealed in the lining they would pass any routine search. At seven
o’clock he did a final check of the room, emptied all his pockets, looked over
his papers for what felt like the hundredth time and left the room.

The lobby was beginning to fill with police and
Gestapo: it was obvious the search had begun. All around was the sound of doors
slamming and boots moving heavily across corridors and rooms.

‘Can I help you sir?’ It was a manager, his face
pale and drawn, his fingers nervously intertwining with each other. Next to him
was another man, his arms folded, looking Edgar up and down.

‘Yes,’ said Edgar, placing his room key on the desk
in front of the manager. ‘I wish to check out, please. If I may settle my
account?’

‘Most certainly sir,’ said the manager, scanning the
hotel register. ‘Your name, please?’

‘Karl Albrecht.’

‘From Hanover, I see.’

‘Are you returning to Hanover now?’ It was the other
man. As he spoke he stepped forward, holding out his Gestapo identity badge. ‘Your
papers, please.’

Edgar handed over the papers for
Karl Albrecht.
The Gestapo man looked at them carefully. ‘Please can you confirm your address?’
Edgar recited it, hoping he was not overplaying his Hanoverian accent. The
other man looked over to the register, which the manager was still holding. ‘Just
a short visit then?’

‘Indeed. Thankfully my business here went well.’
He’s
now going to ask me about this business
. Edgar glanced at his watch.

‘Are you in a hurry Herr Albrecht?’

‘Well, there’s a train to Frankfurt at 7.30 which I’d
like to catch if at all possible; it has a good connection to Hanover.’

‘Indeed. Come over here and I’ll examine your case.’

Edgar moved over to a table by the side of the
reception desk. As he placed his case on the table there was a noise to his
right. It was just a shout at first, followed by the commotion of people
running and then more shouting.

‘Quick, we’ve found them!’ It was a policeman,
running past reception. The Gestapo man who was about to search Edgar looked up
and around, clearly eager to join in. He ruffled through Edgar’s suitcase,
looking up in the direction the noise was coming from for most of the time.