“As well they should,” Rainer snorted.

  Schloss raised a finger. “As long as they are not totally incompetent and remain loyal, Hitler doesn’t care what they do. Don’t forget that, Karl.”

  Rainer shivered involuntarily. Although he had known Heinrich Schloss for years and was a good friend, the man had the cold dispassion of a snake and the ruthlessness of a shark. It was wise to remember that.

  Schloss nodded slowly. “I see you understand my warning.”

  “Of course, Herr Parteileiter.”

  Schloss picked up a sheet of paper on his desk. “This is the list of party members in the building we have no use for. Did Gerhard make up this list?”

  “Yes, Mein Herr,” Rainer replied. “He is an unusually good judge of people.”

  “Let’s talk about what we want to do with these people.”

  The conversation continued for another hour, with Schloss sketching what he wanted to achieve. The number of people in excess of need comprised about 25% of the employees in the building. Releasing that many was sure to raise eyebrows in the city. The conversation ended with a directive from the Parteileiter.

  “I don’t care how you do it, Karl. Just don’t turn the whole thing into a circus.”

  “I understand, mein Herr.”

  As usual, the conversation shifted to small talk at the end of the meeting.

  “How is Hannalore?” Rainer asked.

  Schloss’s shoulders slumped. “The doctor told me yesterday that there is nothing more he can do. She has, perhaps, three months.” Schloss swallowed a sob. “I don’t know what I am going to do.”

  Rainer reached over and put his hand on Schloss’s arm. “We are here for you, Hennie. Just let me know if I can help with anything.”

  When Rainer left the office, Schloss was bent over with his face almost into the blotter. He suffered grief over what was happening to his friends. The cynic in him also wondered how they would preserve the Reich if Heinrich Schloss came apart on them.

  CHAPTER NINE

  March 3, 1941, 8 AM

  Karl Rainer’s Office

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  Gerhard Wicklein limped into Karl Rainer’s office with the aid of a cane. Rainer immediately jumped up and helped him into a chair.

  “You just had to come back to work, didn’t you?” Rainer asked.

  “Remember the last time I got hurt?” Gerhard asked. “I can now move around without endangering myself. I might as well sit in the office and hurt. I can get some work done.”

  “And the doctor let you go?”

  “Well, he wasn’t happy about it. But he could not come up with a good reason for keeping me in the hospital any longer. And by the way, Karl, thanks for everything. You sent enough work over for me that I didn’t go completely crazy. And thanks for looking after Katlin.”

  “Assuming I would want to ignore you, Herr Schloss is watching over you like an eagle with its hatchling. But welcome back.”

  “What’s been going on, anyway. I don’t hear much other than what you told me during your visits.”

  Rainer nodded. “Okay, we’ve traced the attack back to Munich. Your friend Merton Burkhart doesn’t like you very much. We think he is involved somehow.”

  “Why haven’t you pulled him in for questioning?” Gerhard asked.

  “The link is tenuous, and he has friends in the Gestapo. And we are concerned that the Parteileiter may be the real target.”

  “I’ve never understood why people don’t like him.”

  “I think it is because some people think he is insufficiently Nazi.”

  “That’s crazy,” Gerhard exclaimed. “He’s the party leader. Hitler likes him.”

  “They think he has fooled Hitler and the party.”

  “Do you think he has fooled Hitler?” Gerhard asked.

  Rainer lowered his voice. “I certainly hope so.”

  Gerhard leaned back in his chair. “That is somehow not what I expected you to say.”

  “Understand this, Gerhard, the Führer saved Germany from dissolution. He moved into a chaotic political situation and restored order. But he used it to enhance his personal power and his mission. And frankly, his mission is frightening.”

  “And we are running the Nazi Party for him,” Gerhard commented. “What else can we do?”

  “Right now, nothing. The Führer’s approval of Herr Schloss will vanish the moment he decides the Parteileiter is less than loyal. That’s what happened to Bormann.”

  “I thought it was because Bormann hated Schloss.”

  “No. Hitler decided Bormann had grown too powerful. When Herr Schloss approached the Führer about his concerns with Bormann, Hitler told him to do whatever he thought necessary – in so many words.”

  “You have given me a lot to think about,” Gerhard said.

  Rainer nodded. “And you can talk to no one about this except me. We are playing a dangerous game. You have earned the Parteileiter’s trust.”

  “Is that because of what I did in Hamburg?”

  “That, among other things.”

  During one of his early courier runs, Wicklein had taken a packet to Hamburg. Since he wasn’t returning to Berlin until the next day, he was strolling along the riverfront after dinner. He encountered three Gestapo thugs beating up an elderly Jewish man. Taking advantage of surprise and ruthlessness, he killed the three agents and saved the old man's life. This, of course, incensed the Gestapo and the SS. No one had seen the event, but the Gestapo suspected Wicklein since he was in Hamburg that night, and they had had previous unfortunate experiences with him in Munich. Absent clear evidence, Schloss was able to protect Gerhard and gained confidence in the young man’s capabilities.

  “What do you have for me to work on now?” Gerhard asked.

  “For many reasons, we don’t want you out on the streets. You will keep your driver for the time being. But I want you to focus on your audit of the Berlin party offices.”

  “Can we really touch anyone here?” Wicklein asked.

  “Not necessarily,” Rainer responded. “If we discover someone without a patron with his hand in the cookie jar, we will, of course, use him as a bad example.”

  “Not exactly even-handed justice.”

  “The others, we will keep the evidence you collect. There will come opportunities in the future.”

  Rainer had an evil grin. “Now get to your office. Gottfried will have a stack of work for you and a cup of what passes for coffee.”

  “You are so kind to me, Herr Rainer,” Gerhard muttered.

  Rainer chuckled. “Go on. Get out of here. If I don’t finish some of my work, Herr Schloss will have something to say about it.”

  Gerhard groaned when he saw the stack of bulging file folders on his desk. It seemed Gottfried Brucks had anticipated his return.

  “Grüß, Herr Wicklein,” Brucks said as he cheerfully walked into the office carrying a cup of coffee and a saucer. In his other hand was a small plate of cheese Danish.”

  “You even brought my favorite pastry,” Gerhard said. “We won’t speak to the coffee.”

  “It is what it is. I trust you will find this satisfactory,” Brucks said, waving his hand over the desk. “I stacked it as neatly as I could.”

  “I will never know how to thank you, Gottfried.”

  “Think nothing of it. What are friends for?”

  “What other platitudes are you manufacturing for the morning’s entertainment?” Gerhard asked sourly.

  “Oh, I’m sure there are plenty to select from.”

  “Right. Are these folders in any particular order?”

  Brucks set the coffee and Danish on the edge of the desk and pointed to the first stack.

  “These are the membership dues transactions starting two years ago and working towards the present. This stack contains the dossiers on the employees who handled the transactions. The third stack is a list of bank deposits. They are dated and list who carried the funds to the bank.”

  “If nothing else, Gottfried, you are thorough.”

  “We try, mein Herr, we try. Is there anything else I can bring for you?”

  Gerhard tilted his head as he studied the mass of work before him. “Would you look the other way if I tip one of these piles into the trash can?”

  “Sorry, mein Herr. That would be cheating.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  § § §

  March 10, 1941, 9 AM

  Beelitz-Heilstatten Hospital

  Potsdam, Germany

  “How long do I have to put up with this?” Gerhard asked.

  Doktor Oskar Sorber looked up from where he examined Gerhard’s leg. “It depends on whether you want to get an infection and die.”

  “Let’s assume I don’t want to do that, Herr Doktor.”

  “Perhaps another month. The burn is healing well. It seems your sainted wife is managing your care since you don’t appear to listen.”

  “I can assure you that I am paying attention,” Gerhard responded. “But I get impatient.”

  “As long as you change the bandages and keep it dry, you should have no problem. I think you were insane to return to work, but there seem to be no complications. But hear this, Herr Wicklein, if I see even a hint that the burn is not healing properly, you will be back in the ward on your back in bed. And I will have you tied down if it becomes necessary.”

  “I think you mean it,” Gerhard said.

  “Don’t doubt it for a minute,” the doctor replied. “The Parteileiter ordered me, in no uncertain terms, to keep you alive. Who do you think I’d rather cross, you or him?”

  “Since you put it that way, I probably should behave.”

  “Yes, you should. How do you think your wife would like to raise your son alone.”

  “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point, Herr Doktor.”

  “I hope that is the case. And there’s nothing more I can do for you today, so you should probably get yourself back to Berlin.”

  As he climbed into the back seat of the 1943 Mercedes-Benz 230, Gerhard wondered why he subjected himself to the doctor’s torment. He thought doctors were supposed to be kind and thoughtful. Sorber subjected him to torrents of personal abuse anytime the doctor thought Gerhard was straying from the strict guidelines he had imposed.

  “Back to the office, Hans.”

  “Of course, Herr Group Leader.”

  The highway from Potsdam to Berlin was clear. The shortage of petroleum limited civilian travel, and the military traffic had subsided at the close of the winter. With the speed limit of 80 km/h between cities, the driver stretched the car out a bit. Gerhard glanced over the driver’s shoulder at the speedometer and saw they had crested 100 km/h. He hoped they wouldn’t get stopped. He didn’t want to have to flash his badge at the Polizei.

  Gerhard glanced out the back window. “Hans, how long has that Opel been following us?”

  The driver looked into the rearview mirror. “He pulled onto the road shortly after we left the hospital, Herr Group Leader.”

  With a snap, small round holes appeared in the back and front windows.

  “Hans, I think you’d better find out what this car will do.”

  “Of course, Herr Group Leader,” Hans replied as he pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

  Gerhard heard several more shots, but none struck the car. The Opel quickly fell behind as the Mercedes was the quicker car. Ahead they saw a checkpoint with the Polizei officer holding up his hand for them to stop. Besides the flimsy wooden barricade, they could see two official cars parked on the shoulder.

  “Stop here, Hans.”

  “Of course, Herr Group Leader.”

  The Mercedes came to a stop with a screech and a cloud of blue smoke from the abused tires. Gerhard jumped out of the back seat holding his badge high so that it was clearly visible. The road guards had their guns out. Behind him, the Opel had stopped and turned around on the road.

  “The people in that Opel were shooting at us,” Gerhard shouted. “We very much need to find out who it is.”

  The two guards looked at each other. One nodded, and the other trotted to his car, an Opel Kapitän. Gerhard hoped it was fast enough. The Kapitän started down the road, and the guard was intent on getting everything he could from the car. The other guard looked at Gerhard’s credentials.

  “Be so good as to have your driver pull off the road behind the barricade, Herr Wicklein.”

  “Of course.”

  Gerhard returned to his car and leaned over to speak to the driver.

  “Pull off the road behind the barricade, Hans. We may be here a while.”

  “Is there a phone nearby? I must report to the Deputy Parteileiter.”

  “It looks like a call box down the road a few hundred meters,” Gerhard replied. “I will check with the guard, so he won’t be tempted to shoot you.”

  “Perish the thought.”

  Twenty minutes later, four cars rolled up to the checkpoint from the direction of Berlin. Karl Rainer and Erich Strang emerged from one car, and a group of Party security men climbed out of the second car. The other two vehicles belonged to the Gestapo. The remaining road guard now looked distinctly nervous. A Gestapo captain joined Rainer.

  “What happened?” Rainer asked Wicklein.

  “A car followed us from the hospital and wanted to play tag. He put one shot through the glass but not much else, I think. We stopped at the checkpoint, and one of the guards left to chase the Opel.”

  Rainer turned to the Gestapo captain. “Do you suppose you should send someone to follow the guard? He might be in danger.”

  The SS captain nodded and walked back to his people. Four men got into another Mercedes and proceeded down the road toward Potsdam.

  “Let me talk to the road guard,” Rainer said to Gerhard. “Then we should get you back to the office.”

  Strang watched Rainer walk over to the road guard and turned to Gerhard.

  “Been pissing off the locals again, Gerhard?”

  Wicklein chuckled, which broke the tension. “Get stuffed, Erich. If you had been in the car with me, you would have done the pissing.”

  “Just so we understand each other,” Strang grinned. “Rainer told me he was detailing me to travel with you wherever you go. You can probably understand how delighted I was.”

  “As long as you don’t travel with me to the toilet, I will have no complaints. I’ve needed someone to carry the luggage.”

  Rainer marched back to them.

  “Stop with the jokes!” he snapped. “It’s not funny. Let’s get back to the office.”

  Rainer climbed into the back of the Mercedes with Gerhard. Strang sat up front with the driver. Hans put the car into gear and pulled back onto the highway. Rainer looked over at Wicklein.

  “Now, explain what happened, Gerhard.”

  Wicklein recounted the trip from when he and Hans left the hospital. Rainer asked several questions and then lapsed into silence. After arriving at the Party Headquarters, Rainer immediately knocked on Schloss’s door and entered his office. Strang followed Gerhard into his office.

  “Rainer is really angry,” Strang said.

  “Not at us, Erich. We will probably hear the Parteileiter raise his voice in a few minutes. Somehow, he will construe this as Rainer’s fault.”

  “I can understand Herr Rainer’s frustration. I just don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”

  “As long as you or I don’t get careless, they won’t blame us. They are just frustrated they can’t identify the source of the attacks.”

  “I understand the Führer would not look kindly on the Gestapo pulling Daumer in and sweating him.”

  “It’s not because he likes Daumer,” Gerhard replied. “He views Munich as the birthplace of the Party and refuses to accept any action that casts a shadow over it.”

  “What do you think they will do?” Strang asked.

  “Who? Schloss and Rainer?”

  Strang nodded.

  “Getting my picture in the papers constrained the Munich Faction. Hitler now knows who I am and probably would look askance at anyone attempting to shorten my life. If Daumer, Burkhard, or whoever does something nobody can ignore, then Hitler would support Schloss.”

  “Sometimes I hate this country,” Strang said.

  “Perhaps we will have an opportunity to fix it someday.”

  “When pigs fly, Gerhard?”

  “If I happen to see a winged pig go by the window, Erich, I’ll call you over to take a look.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  March 31, 1941, 2 PM

  Karl Rainer’s Office

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  “The doctor tells me he has released you for unrestricted duty,” Karl Rainer stated.

  “Yes, and it is a relief not to attend his torture chamber every week,” Gerhard Wicklein said. “It has not been a pleasant experience.”

  “Well, please try to avoid running into any burning buildings again. We would like to keep you around.”

  “I shall try. But, as you know, I really had no choice,” Wicklein replied.

  “I know. You did the right thing, Gerhard. It was a tragic situation, but you saved two lives.”

  “I still cannot believe I did something like that. I felt like I was standing outside of myself, watching me run into that demolished house.”

  “I’ve had that happen to me,” Rainer said. “It’s part of doing whatever is necessary in a tough situation.”

  “When I ran into these frightening events as a courier,” Gerhard said, “I wasn’t really surprised. I kind of expected it after a while. But having an airplane fall out of the sky in front of me was completely out of the realm of what I would have thought possible.”

  “We’re in a war, Gerhard. Things like that happen.”

  “Yes, but Germany is a big country. The English aren’t going to cover us up in aluminum.”

  “They just may, Gerhard.”

  Wicklein thought for a moment. “That’s hard to believe. But, anyway, here I am.”

  Rainer smiled. “One of these days, you will regret being so willing. I need you to ride down to Munich.”

  “That is not a problem. I am happy to help.”