The three men spent the next two hours at Fleischergarten and finding nothing more of interest, left the police to remain at the house for another 48 hours. During this time, special teams had arrived to undertake forensic investigations. A safe had also been opened, but again, it had revealed very little to go on.
Swan had been surprised that the box had been so easily concealed. He studied it, as he sat in the back of the Mercedes, on the way back into Hamburg. He had to admire the way that Fleischer had concealed it as an old bird book. Bruno Weitz had decided to take both the map and the documents with him, promising an English translation, which he would then give to Swan.
Now back at the Monkedam office, Weitz had put the map from the secret room on the wall, and the three men studied it carefully. Weitz lit a cigarette and waved the match out. He gestured to the map. ‘These two, the Albatross and Cormorant? From the last transcript that Fleischer received, it appears that this man codenamed Albatross, maybe working at Cape Canaveral. The last two calls came from the Florida area, and have been traced to a restaurant in Titusville, which is near the rocket site.’
Swan agreed. ‘Well, if the Onyx Cross have already tried to sabotage the British programme, I lay odds on that they are trying the same thing with the Americans and the Russians.’ He pointed to the other bird pasted on the USA. ‘This Cormorant, I have now confirmed with my team, that we don’t have had any transcripts from them.’ Weitz shook his head. ‘So, the question is, whoever they are, are they still active?’ Swan wondered.
Weitz shrugged. ‘We do not know this.’
‘Then, what should our next move be, gentleman?’ Swan put his pen on the locations of the two superpowers. ‘If there is some sort of threat to the space programmes of the USA and the USSR, then we need to alert them.’
Epstein cut in. ‘We should just inform the Americans. To hell with the Russians.’
Swan gave the German a scathing look. ‘And what if thousands of lives are at stake here, Verdi? Would you want their potential deaths, on your conscience, because of your political views? I certainly wouldn’t.’ Swan left the German to think about it, and after a few moments, feeling embarrassed by his outburst, he apologised to the Englishman.
Weitz broke the ice. ‘Now gentlemen. How about that we go and have some lunch? Then, we can discuss what course of action to take, to stop this organisation from carrying out their plan. Verdi, I am sure, that you know of a good place.’
Epstein nodded his head in agreement. He smiled, he knew exactly where they could go.
Later that day at Steve’s Diner in Titusville, Peter Weisemann sat across the table from the recent arrivals from Europe. He felt strange to see his leader sitting opposite him, a man he not seen in the flesh, for over twenty-four years. They talked about the days of the Reich and Falling Star. Weisemann wondered how much involved he was with the girl, and Fleischer informed him of who she was. Weisemann gasped, when hearing the name of his old Obergruppenfuhrer.
Holz had just returned from the restroom, where she had changed her clothes, and had returned wearing blue blouse and black slacks with flat black pumps on her feet.
Weisemann now gazed at her with the respect that she deserved. He then looked at his leader. ‘Do you think there may now be a problem, if the authorities have discovered our plans?’
Fleischer leant back in the chair. ‘I do not think so, Peter. Everything is still going to schedule, he lied, knowing full well of the current situation: the death of Jean Lempiere in England, and the BND surveillance, placed on them both.
Weisemann smirked. ‘So, we continue with the operation?’
‘We continue, Peter.’
Keneally walked over carrying a glass jug. ‘Thought you guys could do with some fresh coffee.’ He poured it into their empty cups. ‘So, Peter, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your friends?’
‘This is Franz, and his wife Lisa. They are here on holiday, Steven.’
Keneally smiled at them. ‘Is that so? I’m Steve, Steve Keneally. Have you guys been to the States, before?’
Fleischer nodded. ‘Only on business.’
Keneally smiled. ‘I see, and what is your line, Franz?
The German gave him a puzzled glare. ‘My line?’
‘Sorry, I mean your line of work?’
Quickly thinking, Fleischer invented another lie. ‘Oh, I own a factory in West Germany which supplies textiles around the world.’
‘Must be doing well, I guess?’
‘Yes, it is most profitable at present.’
Keneally nodded. ‘That’s sure good to hear. So, how long you intend staying in Florida?’
Holz smiled at the diner owner. ‘For a few weeks.’
‘Aw, that’s too bad. You should have delayed your holiday until July — that way you would have seen the Apollo 11 launch for the Moon mission. Aint that right, Peter?’ Weisemann agreed.
Fleischer smiled at the diner owner. ‘Yes, that would have been good to see. Perhaps we can delay our time here, my darling? So that we can be here for the launch’
Holz nodded. ‘Yes, that would be most excellent.’
Keneally interrupted. ‘Your best views are from the bay. There, you are looking directly across at the launch pad. You may need to get there early though, it sure does tend to get a bit crowded.’
Fleischer raised his cup. ‘Thank you, for your tip Mr Keneally, and we will indeed consider staying for this launch.’
Keneally smiled. ‘That’s great guys. If you do decide to stay, please come back to my diner after the launch. We always have a great atmosphere here.’
Fleischer nodded appreciatively. ‘Thank you, we will do that.’
Keneally turned on his heel and walked back to the bar.
Alex Swan was now back in his office in London. During lunch with the BND men, in Hamburg, they had decided that the best course of action was to alert the CIA, and the Russian Embassy in Bonn. Swan had then cursed himself. During his service with MI5, he had a contact at the Embassy in London, but unfortunately, they had been seen together by the KGB, while meeting in Green Park, and Swan had never heard from him again, suspecting that he had been sent to the Gulag, or worse.
At this crucial time in the Cold War, things had tightened up, and it had become almost impossible to infiltrate the Kensington residence, as before. An ingenious scheme of using a range of special gifts, given to the embassy which cleverly reacted when hit with radio waves from a transmitter, was devised by MI6; however, this had later become unreliable. His thoughts then turned to the German Embassy and Ernst Hoffenberg. Since the assassination attempt, Hoffenberg had carried on as usual, in his post. Was this man untouchable?
He hoped that Weitz could be able to do something about that. He recalled the big German’s request back in the office, in Hamburg, just prior to leaving for the airport: ‘Anything, I can possibly do to help this case, Alex, please do not hesitate to ask.’ Swan had replied to him almost instantly: ‘Well actually Bruno, there is one thing.’ He sat with the documents, painstakingly translated by Weitz’s team, some of the contents making interesting reading. He showed them to Gable. ‘Look here Arthur, looks like our man Fleischer, has contacts everywhere. Which reminds me, I wonder, how Bruno is progressing in finding his mole?’
Gable gasped. ‘Are you telling me, the Onyx Cross have someone in the BND?’
Swan smiled, appreciating how thorough Fleischer was with his network. It seemed the man indeed had his operatives almost everywhere. ‘It’s what I left our friends in Bonn, to go on. We discussed, how we thought it a bit odd, that Fleischer had left so quickly, and had given us the slip. Then, we questioned how this could be. Being the cynical fellow that I am, I suggested to Bruno, as well as having an Onyx Cross operative at his London Embassy, he may even have a mole in his service. First, he denied this as hardly likely, probably down to the fact that he thinks his organisation impenetrable. Then, as we pondered over the facts, he suddenly feared, I could be right.’