"If that is so, I am honored to have been of service," Muller said.
"I wish I could proclaim your genius to the world," von Deitzberg said. "But under the circumstances, you understand, that is not possible."
"I understand," Dr. Muller agreed solemnly.
"But as soon as I can get through to Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler," von Deitzberg went on, "I'll see that your son's commanding officers are made aware of your contribution to the SS."
"That's very kind of you," Muller said emotionally.
"But now our duty calls," von Deitzberg said solemnly. His right arm shot out in the Nazi salute.
"Heil Hitler!" he barked.
Dr. Muller returned the salute.
"After you, mein lieber Gradny-Sawz," von Deitzberg said, and grandly bowed him ahead of him up the stairway.
[TWO].
Von Deitzberg's judgment that von Gradny-Sawz was afraid of him was something of an understatement. Terrified would have been more accurate. Von Gradny-Sawz had known von Deitzberg's reputation within the SS before "Generalmajor" von Deitzberg had come to Argentina the first time. And that reputation was that he was at least as ruthless and cold-blooded as Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler himself.
Part of von Deitzberg's mission then--aside from apologizing to the Argentine officer corps for el Coronel Frade's murder, and von Gradny-Sawz would not have been surprised if that order had actually come from SS-Brigadefuhrer von Deitzberg in the first place--was the detection of the spy, or spies, everyone knew operated in the embassy.
Von Deitzberg had brought three people with him to help him find the spy or spies or traitors, and three people--Major von Wachtstein, Sturmbannfuhrer von Tresmarck, and First Secretary von Gradny-Sawz--were rushed onto the next Condor flight to Berlin "to assist in the investigation."
From the moment the SS-Obersturmbannfuhrer had picked him up at his apartment to take him to the airfield, von Gradny-Sawz had been convinced they were all en route to Sachsenhausen or Dachau.
But it hadn't turned out that way. After four days of thorough questioning, he and von Tresmarck had been returned to Buenos Aires. Von Wachtstein had stayed in Germany, not because he was suspected of treason but because he had gone to Augsburg to learn how to fly the new Me-262 jet-propelled fighter.
In the end, he, too, was returned to Argentina. It came out that the young fighter pilot had caused Alicia, the youngest daughter of Senora Claudia de Carzino-Cormano, to be with child. It had been decided that young von Wachtstein would be of greater value to National Socialism married to the daughter of the richest woman in Argentina than he would be flying, and he was sent back to Argentina under orders to "do the right thing."
Von Gradny-Sawz had not forgotten his terror on being ordered to Berlin, and had vowed then that it would never happen again. He had established--in addition to what he'd talked about with el Coronel Martin--three different places to which he could disappear with reasonable safety should his presence again be demanded in Berlin.
As he walked ahead of von Deitzberg up the stairway to the apartment he had rented for Senor Jorge Schenck, von Gradny-Sawz seriously considered the possibility that the tall, slim, blond Westphalian had gone out of his mind. Rapid mood changes were almost a sure sign of schizophrenia.
And there seemed to be more indications that the war was going to be lost. The newspapers that day carried the story of the bombing on Hamburg of the night of 27 July--it had taken that long to get the story out. According to the correspondent of the Stockholm Dagens Nyheter, who had no reason to lie, the bombing had created so much heat that a "firestorm" had been created, a monstrous inferno with winds of more than 240 kilometers per hour and temperatures so high that asphalt streets began to burn. More than twenty-one square kilometers of the city had been incinerated and more than 35,000 people had been burned to death. The Dagens Nyheter report said the British had named the raids "Operation Gomorrah."
The Italians had surrendered, although most of northern Italy--including Rome--was under German control. Von Gradny-Sawz thought that Mussolini's declaration of a new Fascist state that was going to drive the English and the Americans from the Italian peninsula was what sailors called "pissing into the wind."
Since the war was almost surely lost, the question to von Gradny-Sawz then became: What would he have to do to protect himself from what was going to happen when that actually happened?
He had no intention of going back to Europe, which would be not much more than a pile of rubble. Going "home" was absolutely out of the question. The Russians were going to seize Hungary, and the first thing they were going to do was confiscate all the property of the nobility. And then, presuming they didn't hang them first, the nobility would be shipped off to a Siberian labor camp.
He was going to have to find refuge in Argentina, just as Bormann, Himmler, and the others intended to. The difference there was that they had access to money--mind-boggling amounts of money--and he didn't. He had managed to get some money out of Hungary, and there were some family jewels. But if he had to buy refuge in Argentina--which seemed likely--that wasn't going to be cheap, and he wasn't going to have much to live on until he could, so to speak, come out of hiding and get a job.
He thought that after a while he could get a job as a professor at the University of Buenos Aires--or perhaps at the Catholic University--teaching history or political science. He had a degree in history from the University of Vienna. He had already begun to cultivate academics from both institutions.
But right now the problem was SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg, and von Gradny-Sawz really had no idea how he was going to deal with that.
The moment they were in the apartment, von Deitzberg went to his chest of drawers, picked up the bottle of brandy that von Gradny-Sawz had brought him as his home remedy for von Deitzberg's "cold," poured some into two water glasses, and handed one to von Gradny-Sawz.
"It's absolutely true, Anton," von Deitzberg said, smiling charmingly, "that Winston Churchill begins his day with a glass of cognac. 'Know thy enemy,' right? Maybe he's onto something."
Von Gradny-Sawz thought: Good God, he's insane and now he's going to get drunk?
"Final Victory," von Deitzberg said as he tapped their glasses.
"Our Fuhrer," von Gradny-Sawz responded, and took a small sip of the cognac.
"You don't really believe in the Final Victory, do you, Anton?" von Deitzberg asked. "Or, for that matter, in the Fuhrer?"
Von Gradny-Sawz felt a chill. He had no idea how to respond.
"The Fuhrer is, as Churchill would say, 'as mad as a March hare,'" von Deitzberg said. "And the war is lost. And we both know it."
Von Gradny-Sawz felt faint.
"Let's clear the air between us, Anton," von Deitzberg said, looking into von Gradny-Sawz's eyes. "I have studied your dossier carefully and made certain inquiries." He let that sink in for a long moment, and then went on. "I know, for example, that your own deviation from the sexual norm is that you like to take two--or three--women into your bed."
Jesus Christ!
"Which frankly sounds rather interesting," von Deitzberg continued. "And I also know that you have violated the law by illegally exporting from the Fatherland some $106,000 plus some gold and diamond jewelry--family jewelry. How much is $106,000 worth in pesos, Anton?"
After a moment, von Gradny-Sawz said, "With the peso at about four to the dollar, a bit more than 400,000 pesos."
I have just confessed my guilt!
What the hell is going on here?
"And how far do you think that will take you when you try to find a new life here? You'll have to buy an apartment or a house, and buy groceries, in addition to what it's going to cost you to grease the necessary Argentine palms."
Von Gradny-Sawz did not reply.
"I'm sure you read Reichsfuhrer-SS Himmler's letter to Ambassador von Lutzenberger; the envelope was not sealed," von Deitzberg went on. "The last paragraph of which is significant: The Fuhrer has told the Reichsfuhrer-SS to have me deal with destroying the aircraft of the OSS airline. You saw that?"
Von Gradny-Sawz nodded but did not speak.
"In the last several weeks, for example, the Soviet army has recaptured both Smolensk and Kharkov. Not to mention what's happened in Italy. The Fuhrer doesn't like to think about those defeats. He turns his attention to something like these airplanes in Argentina. If he issues an order--'Have von Deitzberg deal with this'--he really believes it will be obeyed. His orders to his generals to not yield a meter to the Red Army or the English and Americans don't seem to get obeyed.
"My problem, Anton, is that I don't have any idea how to destroy those airplanes. I don't think Herr Frade is going to leave them sitting unprotected on a field somewhere where my SS people here can sneak up to them in the dead of night and attach a bomb. I don't even have a bomb, and my SS people here--I'm speaking of Cranz and Raschner--are bungling incompetents. They can't find the spies in the embassy. They can't even carry out the assassination of Herr Frade.
"Now, I will of course do my best to carry out the Fuhrer's orders. But I'm a realist, Anton. I don't think I'll be successful. I will get rid of Herr Frade, and I will ensure that Operation Phoenix is running smoothly and I may even be able to find the spies or traitors in the embassy.
"But the Fuhrer will not be impressed with this. All he will know is that the OSS airline is still flying back and forth across the Atlantic. And he will think that SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg is no better than the other gottverdammt aristocrats with which he is surrounded. He refuses to obey his Fuhrer's orders."
Von Gradny-Sawz found his voice: "I can see the problem, Herr Brigadefuhrer."
"Call me Manfred, Anton. We are of the same class, after all. And let's talk about that, about our noble background that the Fuhrer finds so offensive. Your lands will disappear as down a flushing toilet when the Russians get to Hungary. The von Deitzberg estates disappeared in the depression following the Versailles Convention. I could not follow my noble ancestors in a military career because there was simply no money. I quite literally went hungry when I was a junior officer in the army. I transferred to the SS because I believed--and I was proven right--that I could rapidly advance in rank because my competition would be inept fools like Cranz and Raschner.
"And now even that seems at the edge of being lost," von Deitzberg said almost sadly. "I've given this a great deal of thought, Anton. One thing I asked myself is why, despite all the upheavals of history, there is still nobility, people such as ourselves. Have you ever considered that, Anton?"
"I can't truthfully say I have, Herr . . . Manfred."
"Because we have, over the centuries, adapted to changing circumstances. You've done that yourself, Anton. You were wise enough to see the Anschluss coming, and to make sure you weren't tossed into the gutter when that happened. Wouldn't you agree?"
"That's true," von Gradny-Sawz said.
"As far as I am concerned, Anton, loyalty does not mean one has to commit suicide."
"I think that's true," von Gradny-Sawz said solemnly. "There is a point at which--"
"Precisely!" von Deitzberg interrupted. "And we--you and I--have reached that point."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"We will, as our code of honor requires, do our duty to Germany to the best of our ability just as long as we possibly can. But then . . ."
"Then what?"
"How could we continue to serve Germany if we were returned to the Fatherland as prisoners, Anton?" von Deitzberg asked reasonably. "In chains? Destined for a Russian slave labor camp?"
"I take your point, Manfred."
"If . . . if everything goes wrong, and at the last possible moment we started to look out for ourselves, how would that violate our code of honor?"
"I can't see where it would."
"And what would be wrong with you and me doing what our leaders are doing with Operation Phoenix: setting up a place where we can live in safety until things settle down?"
"Nothing," von Gradny-Sawz said firmly.
"We might even be able to--almost certainly we would be able to--provide sanctuary for others who were not able to plan ahead. Widows, for example."
"I can see where that would be entirely possible."
"Now, Anton, if we were to do this, we would have to do it in absolute secrecy."
"Yes, of course."
"Cranz and Raschner must never even suspect."
"I understand."
"It happens that I have access to some funds in Uruguay. Enough funds to finance this."
"Really?"
"If I were to get these funds to you, would you know how to set this up?"
"Oh, yes. Frankly, I've been thinking along these lines myself. I have even taken some preliminary steps. There is a delightful area here, in the footsteps of the Andes, around a charming little town, San Carlos de Bariloche, where I am sure we could, with absolute discretion, acquire just the property we would need. It's very much like Bavaria. Should it come to this, of course."
"Well, I think we have to consider that possibility as being very real."
"Yes, I think we do."
"Then the thing for me to do is get to Uruguay as soon as possible. I presume that von Wachtstein still has that Fieseler Storch?"
"May I make a suggestion, Manfred?"
"Certainly."
"Why don't you fly to Montevideo?"
"I was thinking of having von Wachtstein fly me there in the Storch."
"I meant take South American Airways. They have two flights in each direction every day."
"That would mean passing through both Argentine and Uruguayan customs and immigration, would it not? Are these documents you arranged for . . ."
Von Gradny-Sawz nodded and said more than a little smugly, "Jorge Schenck and his wife--they were childless--were killed in an auto crash in 1938. The people I dealt with have removed the reports of their demise from the appropriate registers. That way, the original number of his Document of National Identity became available. Your documents, Senor Schenck, can stand up under any kind of scrutiny."
"You are an amazing man, Anton."
"What I was going to suggest, Manfred, was that you take the SAA flight this afternoon--it leaves at four and takes less than an hour--then spend the night. And when Cranz comes here--and he should be here any minute--you have him order von Wachtstein to fly to Montevideo tomorrow."
"Why should I do that?"
"Because he enjoys diplomatic privilege," von Gradny-Sawz said. "No authority--Argentine or Uruguayan--can ask to see what's inside a package he might be carrying. As either authority might--probably would--demand of Senor Schenck."
"Allow me to repeat, you are an amazing man, Anton," von Deitzberg said, and put out his hand. "I think our collaboration is going to be a success. Not to mention, mutually profitable."
XII.
[ONE].
Aeropuerto Coronel Jorge G. Frade
Moron, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina
1700 1 October 1943