Falkenheim stared at Johann. «She never knew?…»
«Never! She was the ideal puppet. Even psychologically. The fact that Heinrich Clausen was revealed to be that holy man reaffirmed her confidence in her own judgments. She had married that man, not the Nazi.»
«Incredible,» whispered Herr Oberst.
«At least that,» agreed Von Tiebolt. «She followed his instructions to the letter. Every contingency was considered, including a death certificate for an infant male in a London hospital. All traces to Clausen were obliterated.» The blond man laughed again, the sound unnerving. «So you see, you’re no match for Wolfsschanze.»
«Your Wolfsschanze, not mine.» Falkenheim glanced away. «You are to be commended.»
Suddenly Von Tiebolt stopped laughing. Something was wrong. It was in the old man’s eyes—flashed briefly, clouded, deep within that emaciated skull. «Look at me!» he shouted. «Look at me!»
Falkenheim turned. «What is it?»
«I said something just now … something you knew about. You knew.»
«What are you talking about?»
Von Tiebolt grabbed the old man by the throat. «I spoke of contingencies, of a death certificate! In a London hospital! You’ve heard it before!»
«I don’t know what you mean.» Falkenheim’s trembling fingers were wrapped around the blond man’s wrists, his voice rasping under the pressure of Johann’s grip.
«I think you do. Everything I’ve just told you shocked you. Or did it? You pretended shock, but you’re not shocked. The hospital. The death certificate. You didn’t react at all! You’ve heard it before!»
«I’ve heard nothing,» gasped Falkenheim.
«Don’t lie to me!» Von Tiebolt whipped the Luger across Herr Oberst’s face, lacerating the cheek. «You’re not that good anymore. You’re too old. You have lapses! Your brain is atrophied. You pause at the wrong instant, Herr General.»
«You’re a maniac…»
«You’re a liar! A poor liar at that. Traitor.» Again he struck Herr Oberst in the face with the barrel of the weapon. Blood poured from the open wounds. «You lied about her!… My God, you knew!»
«Nothing … nothing.»
«Yes! Everything! That’s why she’s flying to Geneva. I asked myself why.» Von Tiebolt struck furiously again; the old man’s lip was torn half off his face. «You! In your last desperate attempt to stop us, you reached her! You threatened her … and in those threats you told her what she never knew!»
«You’re wrong. Wrong.»
«No,» said Von Tiebolt, suddenly lowering his voice. «There’s no other reason for her to fly to Geneva… So that’s how you think you’ll stop us. The mother reaches the child and tells him to turn back. Her covenant is a lie.»
Falkenheim shook his bloodied head. «No… Nothing you say is true.»
«It’s all true, and it answers a last question. If you so dearly wanted to destroy Geneva, all you had to do was let the word go out. Nazi treasure. Claims would be made against it from the Black Sea to the northern Elbe, from Moscow to Paris. But you don’t do that. Again, why?» Von Tiebolt bent over farther, inches from the battered face beneath him. «You think you can control Geneva, use the millions as you want them used. ‘Amends must be made.’ Holcroft learns the truth and becomes your soldier, his anger complete, his commitment tripled.»
«He will find out,» whispered Falkenheim. «He’s better than you; we’ve both learned that, haven’t we? You should find satisfaction in that. After all, in his own way, he’s a Sonnenkind.»
«Sonnen—» Von Tiebolt swung the barrel of his pistol again across Herr Oberst’s face. «You’re filled with lies. I said the name; you showed nothing.»
«Why should I lie now? Operation Sonnenkinder,» said Falkenheim. «By ship, and plane, and submarine. Everywhere the children. We never got the lists, but we don’t need them. They’ll be stopped when you’re stopped. When Geneva’s stopped.»
«For that to happen, Althene Clausen must reach her son. She won’t expose Geneva for what it is until she’s tried everything else. To do so would destroy her son, let the world know who he is. She’ll do anything before she lets that happen. She’ll try to reach him quietly. We’ll stop her.»
«You’ll be stopped!» said Falkenheim, choking on the blood that flowed over his lips. «There’ll be no vast sums dispensed to your Sonnenkinder. We, too, have an army, one you’ll never know about. Each man will gladly give his life to stop you, expose you.»
«Of course, Herr General.» The blond man nodded. «The Jews of Har Sha’alav.»
The words were spoken softly, but they had the effect of a lash on the old man’s wounds. «No!…»
«Yes,» said Von Tiebolt. «‘Kill me, another will take my place. Kill him, another his.’ The Jews of Har Sha’alav. Indoctrinated by the Nachrichtendienst so thoroughly they became the Nachrichtendienst. The living remains of Auschwitz.»
«You’re an animal…» Falkenheim’s body trembled in a spasm of pain.
«I am Wolfsschanze, the true Wolfsschanze,» said the blond man, raising the Luger. «Until you knew the truth, the Jews tried to kill the American, and now the Jews will die. Within the week Har Sha’alav will be destroyed, and with it the Nachrichtendienst. Wolfsschanze will triumph.»
Von Tiebolt held the gun in front of the old man’s head. He fired.
35
Tears streaked down Helden’s cheeks. She cradled the body of Klaus Falkenheim, but could not bring herself to look at the head. Finally, she let go of the corpse and crawled away; filled with horror … and guilt. She lay curled on the floor, her sobbing uncontrollable. In pain, she pushed herself to the wall, her forehead pressed against the molding, and let the tears pour out. Gradually it became clear to her that her screams and sobs had not been heard. She had come upon the horrible scene alone, and had found signs of the hated ODESSA everywhere: swastikas scratched into wood, scrawled with soap on the window, painted with Falkenheim’s blood on the floor. Beyond the despicable symbols, the room had been torn apart. Books ripped, shelves broken, furniture slashed; the house had been searched by maniacs. There was nothing left but ruins.
Yet there was something … not in the house. Outside. In the forest. Helden pressed her hands on the floor and raised herself against the wall, trying desperately to remember the words spoken by Herr Oberst only five mornings ago:
If anything should happen to me, you must not panic… Go alone into the woods where you took me for my brief walk the other day. Do you remember? I asked you to pick up a cluster of wildflowers, as I remained by a tree. I pointed out to you that there was a perfect V formed by the limbs. Go to that tree. Wedged into the branches is a small canister. Inside, there is a message to be read only by you…
Helden pried the small tubular receptacle from its recess and tore open the rubber top. Inside there was a rolled-up piece of paper; attached to it were several bills, each worth ten thousand francs. She removed the money and read the message.
My dearest HELDEN—
Time and danger to your person will not permit me to write here what you must know. Three months ago I arranged for you to come to me because I believed you were an arm of an enemy I have waited thirty years to confront. I have come to know you—to love you—and with great relief to understand that you are not part of the horror that might once again be visited upon the world.