«An apt judgment.»
«They should be stopped. Some of that money in Geneva should be used to cripple the ODESSA and the Rache.»
«I wouldn’t disagree with you.»
«I’m glad to hear that,» said Holcroft. «Let’s get back to Geneva.»
«By all means.»
Noel had covered the objectives of the covenant and defined the conditions demanded of the inheritors. It was time to concentrate on what had happened to him.
He began with the murder on the plane, the terror in New York, the rearranged apartment, the letter from the men of Wolfsschanze, the telephone call from Peter Baldwin and the subsequent brutal killings it engendered. He spoke of the flight to Rio and a man with thick eyebrows: Anthony Beaumont, ODESSA agent. He told of the doctored records at Rio’s Department of Immigration and the strange meeting with Maurice Graff. He emphasized MI Five’s intrusion in London and the astonishing news that British Intelligence believed Johann von Tiebolt was the assassin they called the Tinamou.
«The Tinamou?» broke in Kessler, stunned, his face flushed. It was his first interruption of Holcroft’s narrative.
«Yes. You know something about him?»
«Only what I’ve read.»
«I gather some people think he’s been responsible for dozens of assassinations.»
«And the British think it’s Johann von Tiebolt?»
«They’re wrong,» said Noel. «I’m certain they know it now. Something happened yesterday afternoon that proves it. You’ll understand when I come to it.»
«Go on.»
He touched briefly on the evening with Gretchen, the photograph of Anthony Beaumont. He went on to Helden and Herr Oberst, then to the death of Richard Holcroft. He described the calls between himself and a detective in New York named Miles, as well as conversations with his mother.
He told of the green Fiat that had followed them to Barbizon, and the man with the pockmarked face.
Then came the madness of the fête d’hiver. How he had tried to trap the man in the Fiat and had himself nearly been killed.
«I told you a few minutes ago the British were wrong about Tennyson,» Noel said.
«Tennyson? Oh, the name Von Tiebolt assumed.»
«That’s right. MI Five was convinced that everything that happened in Montereau, including the man with the pockmarked face who was following us, was the work of the Tinamou. But that man was killed; he worked for Von Tiebolt; they knew that. Helden even confirmed it.»
«And,» interrupted Kessler, «the Tinamou would not kill his own man.»
«Exactly.»
«Then the agent will tell his superiors…»
«He can’t,» broke in Noel. «He was shot saving Helden’s life. But identifications will be made; the British will piece it together.»
«Will the British find the agent who died?»
«Word will get back to them. It has to. The police were everywhere; they’ll find his body.»
«Can he be traced to you?»
«It’s possible. We fought in the square; people will remember. But as Helden put it: We were followed; we didn’t do the following. There’s no reason why we should know anything.»
«You sound unsure.»
«Before the agent died, I decided to mention Baldwin’s name to him, to see if I could learn anything. He reacted as if I’d fired a gun in front of his face. He pleaded with Helden and me to get in touch with a man named Payton-Jones. We were supposed to tell him everything that happened; tell him to find out who attacked us, who killed Von Tiebolt’s man, and most important, to tell MI Five he believed it was all related to Peter Baldwin.»
«To Baldwin? He’d been with MI Six, you said?»
«Yes. He’d gone to them some time ago with information about the survivors of Wolfsschanze.»
«Wolfsschanze?» Kessler repeated the name softly. «That was the letter Manfredi gave you in Geneva, the one written over thirty years ago.»
«That’s right. The agent said we were to tell Payton-Jones to go back to Baldwin’s file. To ‘code Wolfsschanze.’ That was the phrase he used.»
«In his phone call to you in New York, did Baldwin mention Wolfsschanze?» asked Kessler.
«No. He said only that I should stay away from Geneva; that he knew things no one else knew. Then he went to answer the door and he never came back.»
Kessler’s eyes were colder now. «So Baldwin had learned about Geneva and this Wolfsschanze’s commitment to it.»
«How much he learned we don’t know. It could be very little, just rumors.»
«But these rumors are enough to stop you from going to MI Five. Even the advantage of warning them that Beaumont is ODESSA could be too great a price. The British would question you and the girl at length; there are a thousand ways, and they’re experts. Baldwin’s name might surface and they would go back to his file. You can’t take that chance.»
«I came to the same conclusion,» said Holcroft, impressed.
«Perhaps there’s another way to get Beaumont away from you.»
«How?»
«The ODESSA is loathed here in Germany. Word to the proper people could result in his removal. You’d never have to reach the British yourself, never have to risk Baldwin’s name coming to light.»
«Could that be arranged?»
«Unquestionably. If Beaumont’s really an ODESSA agent, a brief message from the Bonn government to the Foreign Office would be enough. I know any number of men who could send it.»
Relief swept over Holcroft. One more obstacle was being removed. «I’m glad we met … that you’re you and not somebody else.»
«Don’t be too quick to make that judgment. You want my answer. Will I join you? Frankly, I—»
«I don’t want your answer yet,» interrupted Noel. «You were fair with me, and I have to be fair with you, I’m not finished. There was tonight.»
«Tonight?» Kessler was disturbed, impatient.
«Yes. The last couple of hours, in fact.»
«What happened … tonight?»
Noel leaned forward. «We know about the Rache and the ODESSA. We’re not sure how much they know about Geneva, but we’re damned sure what they’d do if they knew enough. We know about the men of Wolfsschanze. Whoever they are, they’re crazy—no better than the others—but in their own strange way they’re on our side; they want Geneva to succeed. But there’s someone else. Someone—something—much more powerful than the others. I found that out tonight.»
«What are you saying?» The tone of Kessler’s voice did not change.
«A man followed me from my hotel. He was on a motorbike and stayed with my taxi across Berlin.»
«A man on a motorbike?»
«Yes. Like a damned fool I led him here. I realized how stupid that was, and knew I had to stop him. I managed to do it, but I never meant it to happen the way it did. He was no part of the Rache, no part of the ODESSA. He hated them both, called them butchers and clowns…»
«He called them …» Kessler was silent for a moment. Then he continued, regaining part of the composure he had lost. «Tell me everything that happened, everything that was said.»
«Do you have any ideas?»
«No… Not at all. I’m merely interested. Tell me.»
Holcroft had no difficulty remembering it all. The chase, the trap, the exchange of words, the gunshot. When he had finished, Kessler asked him to go back to the words he and the man in the black leather jacket had said to each other. Then he asked Noel to repeat them again. And again.
«Who was he?» Holcroft knew that Kessler’s mind was racing ahead of his. «Who are they?»
«There are several possibilities,» said the German, «but obviously they’re Nazis. Neo-Nazis, to be precise. Descendants of the party, a splinter faction that has no use for the ODESSA. It happens.»