For a moment I wondered if this might be why Joey was such a womanizer.
‘I even wrote a novel, you know. I was a very open, Renaissance sort of fellow. After that, I was a journalist and I gained a real respect for policemen.’
I let that one go. During the Weimar Republic, my old boss at Kripo, Bernhard Weiss, had been a frequent target of the Nazi newspapers because he was a Jew, and at one time Weiss had even sued Goebbels for libel and won. But when the Nazis took power, Weiss had been obliged to flee for his life to Czechoslovakia, and then England.
‘And of course two of my favourite movies are about the Berlin police: M and The Testament of Doctor Mabuse. Subversive and hardly conducive to the public good, but really quite brilliant, too.’
I had the vague memory that the Nazis had banned Mabuse, but I couldn’t remember for sure. When the minister of propaganda is interested in your opinion it tends to affect your concentration.
‘So, I agree with you one hundred per cent,’ he said. ‘A policeman is what this investigation needs most. Someone who’s in charge but not obviously in charge, if you know what I mean. It could even be someone authorized by this ministry to do everything, from securing the area – after all, there might be some Russian saboteurs down there who’d like to conceal the truth from the world – to ensuring the full cooperation of those damned flamingos at Army Group Centre. They won’t like this any more than the Gestapo. Von Kluge and Von Tresckow. Believe me, I’ve had to put up with that kind of snobbery all my life.’
This sounded worryingly like my own opinion.
Goebbels took out a cigarette case and quickly lit a cigarette, warming to his own train of thought. I had a horrible feeling that he was measuring me up for the job he was starting to describe.
‘And of course it will have to be someone who can make sure that there is no wasted time. Perhaps you’re right about that, too. About Stalin’s maths. And think about it, Captain Gunther. Think about the sheer diplomatic and logistical nightmare of making sure that all those foreigners and journalists are allowed to do their jobs without interference. Think about the overwhelming need for there to be one man behind the scenes, making sure that everything runs smoothly. Yes, I do ask you to think about that, please. You’ve been there. You know what’s what. In short, what this investigation needs is a man to manage the site and the situation. Yes, it’s obvious to me that his investigation needs you, Captain Gunther.’
I started to disagree, but Goebbels was already waving away my objections with the back of his hand.
‘Yes, yes, I know you said you didn’t want to return to Smolensk, and I can’t blame you for that. Frankly, I can’t think of anything worse than being away from Berlin. Especially when it’s a dump like Smolensk. But I’m appealing to you, captain. Your country needs you. Germany is asking you to help clear her name of this bestial deed. If like me you want the truth about this awful crime to be laid at the door of the Bolshevik barbarians who carried it out, then you’ll accept this task.’
‘I don’t know what to say, sir. I mean it’s flattering, of course. But I’m not at all diplomatic.’
‘Yes, I’d noticed that already.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘If you do this service for me you will not find me ungrateful. You’ll soon find that I’m a good person to have on your side, captain. And I’ve a long memory, as you already know.’ He started to wag his finger at me in the same way I’d seen him do on the newsreels. ‘Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I never forget my friends.’
There was of course an opposite side to this coin, though Goebbels was too clever to draw it to my attention right away, not while he was still trying to seduce me. On the whole I prefer to do the seducing myself, but it was increasingly clear to me that there wasn’t going to be room for me to refuse a man who only had to pick up the telephone again and instead of ordering coffee instruct one of his lackeys to have the Gestapo turn up at the door on Wilhelmplatz to give me a lift to Prinz Albrechtstrasse. So I listened, and after a while I started to nod my compliance, and when he asked me straight out, yes or no, if I would take the job, I said I would.
He smiled and nodded his appreciation. ‘Good, good. I appreciate it. Look, I’ve not made that journey myself but I know it’s a brutal one, so I’ll have my own plane fly you down there. Shall we say tomorrow? You can have whatever you need.’
‘Yes, Herr Reich minister.’
‘I’ll speak to Von Kluge himself and make sure you have his full cooperation as well as the best accommodation that’s available. And of course I’ll draw up some letters patent explaining your powers as my plenipotentiary.’
I didn’t much like the idea of representing Goebbels in Smolensk. It was one thing taking charge of the Katyn Wood investigation and an international commission; but I hardly wanted soldiers looking at me and seeing the cut-out of a man with a club foot and a sharp line in suits and phrase-making.
‘These things have a habit of not remaining secret for very long,’ I said, carefully. ‘Especially in the field. For form’s sake it would be best if the powers granted to me in your letter made it quite clear that I am acting as a member of the War Crimes Bureau and not the ministry of propaganda. It wouldn’t look good if one of those journalists or perhaps someone from the International Red Cross gained the impression that we were trying to stage-manage the situation. That would discredit everything.’
‘Yes, yes, you’re right, of course. For the same reason you had better go down there wearing a different uniform. An army uniform, perhaps. It’s best we keep the SS and the SD as far away from the scene as possible.’
‘That most of all, sir.’
He stood up and ushered me to the door of his office.
‘While you’re down there I shall expect regular reports on the teletype. And don’t worry about Judge Goldsche, I shall telephone him immediately and explain the situation. I shall simply say that all of this was my idea, not yours. Which of course he’ll believe.’ He grinned. ‘I flatter myself that I can be very persuasive.’
He opened the door and walked me down the magnificent staircase so quickly I hardly noticed the limp, which was, I suppose, the general idea.
‘For a while after your time in Kripo you were a private detective, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘When you get back we’ll talk again. About another service you might be able to do for me this summer. And which you’ll certainly find is considerably to your advantage.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you.’
The sun was shining, and as I walked out of the ministry onto Wilhelmplatz it seemed to me that my own shadow had more substance and character than I did, as if the body occluding the light behind it had been cursed into spineless insignificance by some evil troll, and for no good reason I stopped and spat onto the black contour as if I had been spitting onto my own body. It didn’t make me feel any better. In lieu of bending my own ear with accusations of cowardice and craven cooperation with a man and a government I loathed, it was nothing more – or less – than an expression of the dislike I now felt for my own person. Sure, I told myself, I had said yes to Goebbels because I wanted to do something to help restore Germany’s reputation abroad, but I knew this was only partly true. Mostly I agreed with the diabolic doctor because I was afraid of him. Fear. It’s a problem I often have with the Nazis. It’s a problem every German has with the Nazis. At least those Germans who are still alive.