The Honor Of Spies - The Honor of Spies Part 50
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The Honor of Spies Part 50

And he knew where he had caught Dr. Muller's "pretty bad cold." Fifty meters from the shore of Samborombon Bay, the rubber boat in which von Deitzberg was being taken ashore had struck something on the bottom. Something sharp. There had been a whooshing sound as the rubber boat collapsed and sank into the water.

The water was not much more than a meter deep. There was no danger of anyone drowning, and--giving credit where credit was due--the U-405's sailors quickly got von Deitzberg and his luggage ashore. By then, however, von Deitzberg was absolutely waterlogged and so were the two leather suitcases he'd bought on his last trip to Argentina, and of course their contents.

The result had been that von Deitzberg had been soaking wet during the four-hour trip in First Secretary Anton von Gradny-Sawz's embassy car from the beach to his new apartment. There was simply nothing that could be done about it.

By the time they reached the apartment, von Deitzberg had been chilled and was sneezing. Von Gradny-Sawz obligingly arranged for an Old Hungarian Solution to the problem--a hot bath, then to bed after drinking a stiff hooker of brandy with three tablespoons of honey--and said when he returned in the morning he would have with him Dr. Muller. "To be sure things were under control," he'd said.

Von Deitzberg almost refused the physician's services--the more people who knew about him being in Buenos Aires, the greater the chances the secret would get out--but after von Gradny-Sawz had explained who Dr. Muller was, he agreed to have him come.

Dr. Muller was there at nine the next morning, oozing Bavarian gemuetlichkeit and medical assuredness. By then von Deitzberg's eyes were running, his sinuses clogged, he was sneezing with astonishing frequency and strength, and he was running a fever. He was delighted to have the services of a German physician, even one who proudly proclaimed himself to be a "herbalist," a term with which von Deitzberg was not familiar.

He soon found out what it meant.

As soon as von Gradny-Sawz had returned from the nearest pharmacy and greengrocer with the necessary ingredients, Dr. Muller showed one of the petit-hotel's maids--actually, she was the daughter of one of the maids; he later learned she was fifteen and that her name was Maria--how to prepare a number of herbal remedies.

He started with showing Maria how to peel and chop four cloves of garlic and then put them in a cup of warm water, making a remedy that von Deitzberg was to take three times a day.

Dr. Muller then showed Maria how to chop ten grams of ginger into small pieces, which were then to be boiled in water and strained. Von Deitzberg was to drink the hot, strained mixture two times a day.

Maria and von Deitzberg were then introduced to the medicinal properties of okra. She was shown how to cut one hundred grams of the vegetable into small pieces, which were then to be boiled down in half a liter of water to make a thin paste. During the boiling process, von Deitzberg was to inhale the fumes from the pot. The boiled-down okra, when swallowed, Dr. Muller said, was certain to relieve von Deitzberg's throat irritation and to help his dry cough.

And finally came turmeric: Half a teaspoon of fresh turmeric powder was to be mixed in a third of a liter of warm milk, and the mixture drunk twice daily.

This was von Deitzberg's fourth day of following the herbal routine.

Dr. Muller further counseled von Deitzberg that, in order to keep his strength up, he was to eat heartily, even if he had to force himself to do so.

Von Deitzberg had little appetite from his first meal, and that hadn't changed much either. The meals were delivered from a nearby restaurant. Breakfast was rolls and coffee. Lunch was a cup of soup and a postre, which was Spanish for "dessert." Dinner was the only real meal he could force down, and he had trouble with that.

The appetizer was invariably an empanada, a meat-filled pastry. One bite of one of them was invariably quite enough. The first entree had been a pink-in-the-middle filet of beef accompanied by what the Argentines called papas fritas. The second day had been baked chicken accompanied by mashed potatoes; and the third, a pork chop that came with papas fritas.

None of them seemed, in von Deitzberg's judgment, to be the sort of thing someone in his delicate condition should be eating. But Dr. Muller's orders were orders, and von Deitzberg tried hard to obey. He had to get well, and as quickly as possible. He had a great deal of work to do, and the sooner he got at that, the better.

The postres, however, were something else. They immediately reminded von Deitzberg of Demel, the world-famous pastry shop in Vienna to which his grandfather had taken him when he was a boy.

If anything, the pastry chef here in Argentina had used more fresh eggs and more butter and more confectioners' sugar than even Demel would have used. There of course were very few confectioners' fresh eggs, hardly any butter, and no confectioners' sugar at all these days in Berlin, even in the mess of Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler.

On the first day, von Deitzberg had sent Maria back to the restaurant for an additional postre, and then, on second thought, told her to fetch two. Dr. Muller had told him he had to eat to keep up his strength. Maria had since routinely brought two postres with his lunch, and three for his dinner.

Many were new to him, and they were invariably really delicious. One became his favorite: pineapple slices with vanilla ice cream, the whole covered with chocolate syrup. He sometimes had this for both lunch and dinner.

On two of the four nights he had been in the apartment--the first night, he had simply collapsed and slept until von Gradny-Sawz showed up with Dr. Muller the next morning--something occurred that hadn't happened to him in years: On both nights, following an incredibly realistic erotic dream, he awakened to find he had had an involuntary ejaculation.

His first reaction--annoyance and chagrin--was quickly replaced by what he perceived to be the reason. It was clearly a combination of his condition--whatever gottverdammt bug he had caught on the gottverdammt U-405--and Dr. Muller's herbal medications to treat it.

And then his mind filled with both the details of the erotic dreams and the facts and memories on which the dreams were obviously based, and he allowed himself to wallow in them.

His carnal partner in the dreams had been Frau Ingeborg von Tresmarck, a tall slim blonde who was perhaps fifteen years younger than her husband--Sturmbannfuhrer Werner von Tresmarck--who was the security officer of the Embassy of the German Reich in Montevideo, Uruguay.

One of the things von Deitzberg thought he would probably have to do while in South America was eliminate Werner von Tresmarck, and possibly Inge as well, as painful as that might be for him in her case.

When the lucrative business of allowing Jews--primarily American Jews, but also some Canadian, English, and even some South American--to secure the release of their relatives by buying them out of the Konzentrationslagern to which they had been sent en route to the ovens--one of the problems had been to find someone to handle things in South America.

In August 1941, shortly after Adolf Hitler had personally promoted Reinhardt Heydrich--Himmler's Number Two and the Reich Protector of Bohemia-Moravia, as the former Czechoslovakia was now known--to SS-OBERGRUPPENFUHRER and von Deitzberg--newly appointed first deputy adjutant to Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler--to obersturmbannfuhrer, von Deitzberg had confided to Heydrich that, although the promotion was satisfying for a number of reasons, it was most satisfying because he really needed the money.

Two days later, Heydrich handed him an envelope containing a great deal of cash.

"You told me a while ago you were having a little trouble keeping your financial head above water," Heydrich said. "A lot of us have that problem. We work hard, right? We should play hard, right? And to do that, you need the wherewithal, right?"

"Yes, sir," von Deitzberg said.

"Consider this a confidential allowance," Heydrich said. "Spend it as you need to. It doesn't have to be accounted for. It comes from a confidential special fund."

And a week after that, Heydrich told him the source of the money in the confidential special fund.

"Has the real purpose of the concentration camps ever occurred to you, Manfred?" Heydrich asked.

"You're talking about the Final Solution?"

"In a sense. The Fuhrer correctly believes that the Jews are a cancer on Germany, and that we have to remove that cancer. You understand that, of course?"

"Of course."

"The important thing is to take them out of German society. In some instances, we can make them contribute to Germany with their labor. You remember what it says over the gate at Dachau?"

" 'Work will make you free'?"

"Yes. But if the parasites can't work, can't be forced to make some repayment for all they have stolen from Germany over the years, then something else has to be done with them. Right?"

"I understand."

"Elimination is one option," Heydrich said. "But if you realize the basic objective is to get these parasites out of Germany, elimination is not the only option."

"I don't think I quite understand," von Deitzberg had confessed.

"There are Jews outside of Germany who are willing to pay generously to have their relatives and friends taken from the concentration camps."

"Really?"

"For one thing, it accomplishes the Fuhrer's primary purpose--removing these parasitic vermin from the Fatherland. It does National Socialism no harm if vermin that cost us good money to feed and house leave Germany and never return."

"I can see your point."

"And at the same time, it takes money from Jews outside Germany and transfers it to Germany. So there is also an element of justice. They are not getting away free after sucking our blood all these years."

"I understand."

"In other words, if we can further the Fuhrer's intention to get Jews out of Germany and at the same time bring Jewish money into Germany while we make a little money for ourselves, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing that I can see."

"This has to be done in absolute secrecy, of course. A number of people would not understand; and an even larger number would feel they have a right to share in the confidential special fund. You can understand that."

"Yes, of course."

"Raschner will get into the details with you," Heydrich went on. "You know him, of course?"

"I know who he is, Herr Gruppenfuhrer."

Von Deitzberg knew that Sturmbannfuhrer Erich Raschner was one of the half-dozen SS officers--many of them Sicherheitsdienst--who could be found around Heydrich, but he didn't know him personally, or what his specific duties were.

"He's not of our class--he used to be a policeman, before he joined the Totenkopfverbande--but he's very useful. I'm going to assign him to you. But to get back to what I was saying, this is the way this works, essentially: "As you know, the Jews are routinely transferred between concentration camps. While they are en route from one camp to another, members of the Totenkopfverbande working for Raschner remove two, three, or four of them from the transport. Ostensibly for purposes of further interrogation and the like. You understand."

Von Deitzberg nodded.

Heydrich went on: "Having been told the inmates have been removed by the Totenkopfverbande, the receiving camp has no further interest in them. The inmates who have been removed from the transport are then provided with Spanish passports and taken by Raschner's men to the Spanish border. Once in Spain, the Jews make their way to Cadiz or some other port, where they board neutral ships. A month later, they're in Uruguay."

"Uruguay?" von Deitzberg blurted in surprise. It had taken him a moment to place Uruguay; and even then, all he could come up with was that it was close to Argentina, somewhere in the south of the South American continent.

"Some stay there," Heydrich said matter-of-factly, "but many go on to Argentina."

"I see," von Deitzberg said.

"Documents issued by my office are of course never questioned," Heydrich went on. "Now, what I want you to do, Manfred, is take over the administration of the confidential special fund--I should say 'supervise the administration' of it. The actual work will continue to be done by Raschner and his men. Raschner will explain the details to you. You will also administer dispersals; Raschner will tell you how much, to whom, and when. Or I will."

"Jawohl, Herr Gruppenfuhrer."

"Raschner has suggested that we need one more absolutely reliable SS officer, someone of our kind, as sort of a backup for you. Any suggestions?"

Von Deitzberg had hardly hesitated: "Goltz," he said, "Standartenfuhrer Josef Goltz. He's the SS-SD liaison officer to the Office of the Party Chancellery."

Heydrich laughed.

"Great minds run in similar channels," he said. "That's the answer I got when I asked Raschner for his suggestion. Why don't the two of you talk to him together?"

On their third meeting Raschner had another suggestion to offer. They needed an absolutely trustworthy man--someone with sufficient rank to keep people from asking questions about what he was doing--to handle things in Uruguay. And someone who could be sent there without too many questions being asked.

"Does the Herr Obersturmbannfuhrer know Sturmbannfuhrer Werner von Tresmarck?"

Von Deitzberg did know von Tresmarck, didn't think highly of him, and told Raschner so.

"He does follow orders, and he would be absolutely trustworthy," Raschner argued.

"Absolutely trustworthy? What do you know about him that I don't, Raschner?"

Raschner had laid an envelope filled with photographs on the desk. They showed Werner von Tresmarck in the buff entwined with at least ten similarly unclad young men.

"Because the alternative would be going to Sachsenhausen wearing a pink triangle on his new striped uniform," Raschner explained unnecessarily.

When von Deitzberg went to Heydrich with the idea, he thought the probable outcome would be von Tresmarck's immediate arrest and transport to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp. Homosexuality was one of the worst violations of the SS officer's code of honor, topped only by treason.

Heydrich surprised him.

"I can see a certain logic to this, Manfred," Heydrich had said. "Von Tresmarck would certainly be motivated to do what he was told and to keep his mouth shut about it, don't you think?"

"That's true, Herr Gruppenfuhrer."

"Tell you what, Manfred. See if Raschner can come up with a female in similar circumstances we can marry him to. Make the point to her that if she can't make sure that von Tresmarck keeps his indiscretions in Uruguay behind closed doors, both of them will wind up in Sachsenhausen."

"Jawohl, Herr Gruppenfuhrer."

Raschner was prepared to deal with Heydrich's order. Von Deitzberg realized Raschner had expected Heydrich's reaction.

Raschner showed von Deitzberg the Sicherheitsdienst dossier of a woman believed to pose a threat to the sterling reputation of the SS officer corps.

She was the widow of Waffen-SS Obersturmbannfuhrer Erich Kolbermann, who had given his life for his Fuhrer and the Fatherland at Stalingrad. Officers' ladies in these circumstances were expected to devote their lives to volunteer work for the war effort by working in hospitals, that sort of thing.

If they didn't do what was expected of them, a friendly word from the local SS commander reminded them that their exemption from labor service had ended with the demise of their husband. In other words, either behave or report to the Labor Office, which will find some factory work for you to do.

When Inge--who had been raising eyebrows in Hamburg with her hospitality to young SS officers on leave, not infrequently with two or more at once--was given the friendly word from the local SS man, she disappeared.

She turned up in Berlin, one of the thirty or more attractive young women who congregated in the bars of the Hotel Am Zoo and the Hotel Adlon, where they struck up conversations with senior officers--or Luftwaffe fighter pilots--who were passing through the capital and were able to deal with the prices of the Am Zoo and the Adlon.

The attractive young women were not prostitutes, but they did take presents and accept loans.

Raschner brought Frau Kolbermann to von Deitzberg's office for a friendly chat. Von Deitzberg was drawn to her from their first meeting. Not only was she very attractive, but he thought her eyes were fascinating; naughty, even wicked, a la Marlene Dietrich. He restrained himself, knowing that Reichsfuhrer-SS Heinrich Himmler was not only something of a prude but expected the highest moral standards to be practiced by his officers.

Frau Kolbermann readily accepted the proposition Raschner offered. She said she knew where Uruguay was, had even visited it, and spoke passable Spanish, which confirmed what the dossier suggested: a well-bred woman who'd fallen on hard times.

She was formally introduced to von Tresmarck the next day, became Baroness von Tresmarck two days after that, and was on a Condor flight to Buenos Aires ten days after that.

From then on, things had run smoothly for almost a year. But then they began to fall apart.

On May 31, 1942, Gruppenfuhrer Reinhard Heydrich, "Protector of Bohemia and Moravia," had been fatally wounded in Prague when Czech agents of the British threw a bomb into his car.

Before leaving Berlin to personally supervise the retribution to be visited upon the Czechs for Heydrich's murder, Himmler called von Deitzberg into his office to tell him how much he would have to rely on him until a suitable replacement for the martyred Heydrich could be found.

Von Deitzberg was now faced with a serious problem. On Heydrich's death, he had become the senior officer involved with the confidential special fund and the source of its money--yet never had learned from Heydrich how much Himmler knew about it.

He quickly and carefully checked the fund's records of the dispersal of its money before he had taken over. He found no record that Himmler had ever received anything.

It was of course possible that the enormous disbursements to Heydrich had included money that Heydrich had quietly slipped to Himmler; that way there would be no record of Himmler's involvement.

Three months later, however, after Himmler had neither requested money--not even mentioned it--nor asked about the status of the confidential special fund, von Deitzberg was forced to conclude that Himmler not only knew nothing about it, but that Heydrich had gone to great lengths to conceal it from the Reichsprotektor.

It was entirely possible, therefore, that Himmler would be furious if he learned now about the confidential special fund. If the puritanical Reichsprotektor learned that Heydrich had been stealing from the Reich, he would quickly conclude that von Deitzberg had been involved in the theft up to his neck.

When von Deitzberg brought up the subject to Raschner, Raschner said that as far as he himself knew, Himmler either didn't know about the fund or didn't want to know about it. Thus, an approach to him now might see everyone connected with it stood before a wall and shot. Or hung from a butcher's hook with piano wire.