Approaching the steps to the museum, Swan stopped and turned to his colleague. ‘Thought I better warn you Arthur, Charles can ramble on quite a lot. He loves his work, and does seem to go into detail on any question, you may put to him.’
At reception, an aging uniformed security guard of the Royal Corps of Commissionaires, acknowledged them, and Swan informed him that they were here to see a Mr Bedworth-Jones, emphasising that they had been expected.
The guard picked up the telephone receiver and a few moments later, was giving the directions to his office.
Charles Bedworth-Jones was a tall man, with silver grey hair and a moustache, dressed in a brown tweed jacket and black trousers, ‘Alex, lovely to see you again. Please come in gentlemen.’
Swan shook his hand and introduced Gable. Bedworth-Jones smiled at them. ‘So, you want to know something about Operation Sternstruppe, or Falling Star, as it translates to in English. He walked over to a green filing cabinet, opened the second drawer, and rifled his way through the pockets. ‘Ah, here we are — Operation Falling Star: the last-ditch attempt by the Nazis to prevent their technology from falling into the hands of the allies. Instigated by SS General Klaus Kemmler, himself, on the orders of Albert Speer. The Allies of course wanted to get their hands on the secret weapons the Nazis had developed, and all the future on-paper projects, they were working on. Speer set up Falling Star to stop them. This was a nasty business, Alex. They were even prepared to shoot the scientists and engineers, to prevent them being captured. That’s why Von Braun escaped with his exodus of personnel. He knew the Allies wanted the secrets, and thinking that he could do a deal, thought that it should be the Americans, that should have them. Naturally, they wanted them, and that’s why Operation Paperclip was set up by the Americans, and the British, to get to these men before the Russians did. As we know, Von Braun made it to the Yanks, and in a few months when those astronauts finally land on the Moon, the whole world will realise that he was worth it.’
Swan studied the documents finding a separate, multi-page document, that caught his eye. He stared at it attentively. ‘This is an account of every V2 missile, that fell in England.’
Bedworth-Jones glanced over his shoulder. ‘Yes, that’s correct. I put that together myself a few years back, took a hell of a long time with trips to the bombsites, and so forth. I am working on one for the V1 landings with a friend of mine who lives in Kent, but there were so many, I don’t think that we will ever finish with that one. He wants it all so that he can write a book on it.’
Swan looked at a page listing chronological dates, flicking over a couple of more pages, then pausing, as he read to himself one of the accounts.
Suddenly in his head, he could hear the green telephone ringing again. Gable noticed his colleague. ‘What is it Alex, you seem to have that look again?’
Swan, distracted from his thought, looked up from the document. ‘What? Oh, it’s nothing, I just find it interesting, that’s all.’
Bedworth-Jones stepped in with enthusiasm. ‘It most certainly is. It is the very reason why we have the missile threat today. The V2 was the world’s first ICBM. Do you know, that it took under five minutes to reach London, from say a launch site in the Black Forest? Even quicker, if they were launched closer to the coast. Thing is, unlike the V1 flying bomb, you didn’t know, they were coming. No sound, just boom!’ The researcher spread out his hands to simulate an explosion. ‘Some of them, hadn’t been fully fuelled, and because of this, they fell short of their intended target. We have a V2 downstairs, if you two have time, I will gladly show you around it, if you wish.’
‘That will have to be some other time I’m afraid Charles. We’re a bit pushed today,’ snapped Swan.
Gable looked again at his colleague, thinking that this behaviour was beginning to be a habit. Even Bedworth-Jones felt this sudden outburst from his friend, a little uncharacteristic.
‘Are you sure you’re okay, Alex?’
Swan nodded. ‘Yes, chaps. I’m fine. Quite fascinating Charles. So, these men were captured by the Allies, and helped in their post war rocket programmes. That of course, is why we also have Germans working here on projects in Britain?’
Bedworth-Jones responded positively. ‘That’s right, Alex. In fact, that poor Ruger chap who was found dead on the river last week, was one wasn’t he?’
Swan confirmed. ‘Yes, Charles, he was indeed. Tell me, have you heard of any Pro-Nazi organisations, one called the Onyx Cross, for instance?’
Bedworth-Jones put a hand to his chin and smiled. ‘Oh, my lord. There’s been plenty of them over the years, but I can’t say I have heard of one called the Onyx Cross, though. The only onyx cross, or crosses, I know of, were the actual crosses Reichsmarshall Herman Goering, had specially made for him.’ He walked over to another filing cabinet, opened the top drawer and pulled out a large file. ‘I know that according to records, he had two made by a jeweller in Berlin. Let’s see if I can find something in here.’ The researcher placed the brown file on the desk and thumbed through the contents. ‘Aha! Here we are. The two Grand Crosses, were made by renowned Berlin jeweller and goldsmith, Professor Herbert Zeitner. They were a pair of white gold rimmed examples, with an onyx core. According to this record, they were both reported lost, during an RAF bomber raid on Carinhall, the Reichsmarshall’s country residence, north east of Berlin, on April the twenty first, 1945. However — and here is where it gets intriguing, according to a statement, later given by Mr Seigler Gunz, a gardener that worked at Carinhall — he stated at Goering’s trial, that two days before the RAF raid, he had witnessed some men clearing the house of Goering’s valuables in the morning, and in the afternoon, a demolition team arrived and blew the place up.’
Is that so?’ Swan enquired.
‘How extraordinary,’ added Gable.
Bedworth-Jones closed the file. ‘Remarkable story, isn’t it chaps?’
Swan nodded. ‘Yes, indeed it is Charles. Most remarkable. What’s more, if these crosses were removed with the other treasures from Carinhall, then where are they now?’
‘Well that’s the big mystery, isn’t it gentlemen? They could be anywhere. We mustn’t forget, that there is still a vast hoard of hidden Nazi artefacts still out there. Not to mention of course all the stolen items, like all the art for instance.
Gable interrupted. ‘Yes, but some of that was recovered, wasn’t it?
Bedworth Jones nodded. ‘Indeed, it was Arthur, but a lot of it is still unaccounted for. For instance, the amber wall panels of the Catherine Palace of Tsarskoye, Leningrad.’ The researcher explained, that following the German invasion of Russia in 1941, the room had been completely looted and reassembled in Konigsberg. However, mysteriously at the end of the war, it had all vanished without a trace with some officials saying, it was destroyed in the reprisal destruction of art by order of Hitler himself.
Gable gasped. ‘My Godfathers,’
Bedworth-Jones continued. ‘That’s right, Arthur. Priceless works of art, were just heaped in piles in a secret underground location, petrol was poured over them, and they were all set alight. You see, all these stolen treasures were earmarked for the Fuhrermuseum, in Hitler’s birthplace of Linz. This had been one of his dream projects for his Thousand Year Reich, and he sent specialists out to all corners of his occupation, to retrieve valuable artefacts to put in it. But obviously, with the defeat of the Nazi regime, he knew this would never happen, so ordered all the artefacts, already in possession, to be destroyed. It was called his Nero Decree, after what the Roman emperor did with Rome when it fell. Thankfully, as you remarked, Arthur, some of it was recovered, quite a lot in fact. That hoard found in the mine at Siegen, was one example, and over the years, other items have materialised; but because of the destruction, some of it has gone forever. In fact, Goering himself, had his own private stash, but always insisted right up to his trial at Nuremburg, that he had been given them as tokens by art dealers, and had no knowledge of them actually being part of a stolen hoard.’