'Didn't bury it deep enough, did they?' commented the President dryly. He addressed himself to the Director. 'That computer's important. It could give us the answers we need.'
'We're doing our best, Mr President,' the Director replied.
'I appreciate that. But we need faster results. Let's not forget the British are also involved. We don't want to look bad against the Russians. There's still plenty of tension there. We've seen the failure of some of their policies, and of their political change of direction. More than once. If we mess up on this, the British, and the rest of the Europeans, will know. We can do without that. Don't forget, I've got a trip to Europe about to happen. I have no intention of arriving with an empty suitcase in my hand.'
'Talking of the British, how much does their guy know?' asked Magey.
'Not too much. He knows he was here to protect Trimmler. I think he just wants to go home now,' said the Exec Director.
'After shooting up half of New Orleans. I think he knows more than the rest of you put together.'
'As I said before, he believed it was Trimmler's killer he was after,' cut in the Director.
'You mean, we believe. From your report, he didn't say anything.'
'Not yet. We've contacted London. They'll be giving him orders to report directly to us.’
‘Watch those Brits. They play games.’
'This whole thing's so damn mixed up, he could even be part of the conspiracy. How do we know he didn't take out Trimmler? After all, he was the first one to find the body,’ said the President.
'Unlikely.' The Director was sweating.
'All right,' said the President. 'Charley's right. We could be following too narrow a band. Open it up. Look for things that aren't there. Put more resources on it. Find out what's happening. I do not want a political bomb exploding in my trousers.' He laughed at his own joke; the rest followed.
The CIA men were ushered out into the corridor.
'Get it done,' said the Director to his Exec. 'Find out what's going on or your backside's on the line.'
'You heard him,' the Exec Director told the DDA when they were on their own in the Exec's car. 'If I go, so do you. Find out why the Englishman went berserk in that cemetery. I don't care how, just find out.'
'What about diplomatic fallout?'
'What about it? Kill the bastard for all I care, but find out.'
Ch. 49
'That's one helluva war record.' The Editor threw the notes he had been given to read on his desk. His vast bulk spread as he leant back in his swivel chair and he fastened his most penetrating look on the news editor. 'That is, if it's true. We've been set up before.'
'That's never stopped us following something through,' replied his news editor, quite unabashed by his chief's attention.
'I knew Grob Mitzer well. I was a guest at his home here and also to his country estate. This was a great German. This filth …' he indicated the sheaf of papers in front of him '…isn't true.'
'Then we prove his innocence.'
'It doesn't need proving. Not to those who knew him.'
'If we don't take it, then some other paper will. We can't tell them not to print.'
'Nobody's trying to stifle anything,' barked the Editor, realising he was stepping beyond the bounds of impartiality. 'Shit, I just want to save the reputation of one of the great men of modern Germany.'
The news editor picked up the notes. 'These need to be answered. Even if they're lies, they need to be answered.'
'All right. All right. Look, I don't expect us to hide the truth. But, take it easy. I believe…these are lies. I don't want the usual newspaper trick about threats and innuendos producing the truth. This time let's presume the accused to be innocent, and let's make damn sure he's guilty before we print anything.'
'Okay. But there is a lot of information here. True or not. A Nazi membership card…the mass murder of imported workers at Nordhausen and Peenemünde…personally responsible for the transport which carried the workers to these rocket plants, transport so basic that hundreds died before they even got there. A specific accusation that he shot workers, too feeble to be of any further use, to save food rations for others. And that he used the knowledge of the Nazi rocket effort to build and further his own interests at the end of the war, information that should have been shared with other people, both in government and in industry. This is the sort of stuff the Israelis put out. If any of this is true, we're talking major war crimes.'
'They can't prosecute a dead man. But they could destroy his reputation. I mean, why didn't it come out when he was alive?'
'God knows. To hang onto this stuff for all these years. It's unreal.'
'If it's true. If it's true…' The Editor shook his head. 'Do you remember that British paper, the Sunday Times, when they published the Hitler Diaries? Shit, that was the biggest con of all.'
'We're also getting feedback on a National Socialist group.'
'Nazis?'
'This could be something bigger.’
‘What’s bigger than Nazis?’
‘It's just a guess, but it could have something to do with the synagogue murders…and the Neu Isenburg hotel bombing.'
'The National Socialists are more involved in trying to build a credible party, rather than blowing people up. I can't see it.'
'Times change. So do people. So do ideas,' the news editor persisted. ‘New attitudes, new political parties. Subjugate a people for over forty years and you've got a ready springboard for fascism.'
'I agree we're in a mess and that's how Hitler came to power. By putting the economy right and uniting the country. And whatever people say, a party that could do that for east and west, with the right leader, has got to be taken seriously. Hitler's downfall was his paranoia about the Jews and his greed for new territories. A new leader wouldn't concern himself with that. The Jews are no problem; I mean, we don't have any in Germany any more. If there is such a movement, then let's find out about it. But let's not condemn it out of hand, it could be what the country wants.' The Editor was beginning to sound like his proprietor. 'Right now I want to find out who sent us these files on Grob Mitzer.'
'And if they're true?'
The Editor sighed, then nodded, his triple chin bouncing down his neck. 'Go ahead. If they're true…'
Ch. 50
Adam stayed in the hotel because he'd nowhere else to go.
There was little point in booking an air ticket home. He'd already spoken by phone to Captain Coy, his briefing officer in London, and received little joy from him. 'Stay put until I come back to you,' was all Coy had said after listening to Adam's lengthy story and growing more appalled by the minute.
Billie had rung through on the house phone and asked him if he wanted to have lunch. They met downstairs in the lobby restaurant.
'I hear you had a run-in with Carter,' she said, when the waiter had taken their order.
'News travels fast in New Orleans.'
'Tucker told me. He's concerned.'
'Not about me?'
'No. His own position.'
'Ever the desk clerk…'
'Don't be too harsh,' she admonished him. 'It's all he's been trained for.'
'What else did he tell you?'
'That they don't trust you. That you're hiding something.'
'Sharp, aren't they?'
'Why not tell them what you told me?'
Adam shrugged and drank from the glass of iced water on the table.