Reinhardt swallowed slowly, forcefully, against the tightness in his throat. ‘And… ?’ he managed. He knew the answer, but he needed Meissner to say it.
Meissner seemed to know that, or at least understand it. ‘And, Gregor, I need to know what you know. I need to know what you are planning now that you know about Verhein. And, if possible, I need to know whether you can give me what you’ve found and be persuaded to look away.’
‘Look away?’
‘Yes,’ replied Meissner. His mouth opened as if to say something else, but he stopped.
‘Don’t,’ whispered Reinhardt, hoarsely. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t say “Just this once”, because you know, and I know, that’s not true.’ He bent forward, hunching around the weight he felt, feeling the frustration, the rising anger. ‘I suspected something,’ he said, finally. ‘I suspected Freilinger was obstructing me. Deftly, I’ll give him that. He tried to keep me away from investigating senior officers. He gave me a list without Verhein’s name on it. He steered me towards an SS Standartenfuhrer… I didn’t know why, though.’
‘Freilinger was put in a difficult position. He is one of us. He has tried to talk to Verhein, but the general won’t listen.’ He looked over at the major.
Freilinger unfolded his hands. ‘When the murders happened, I suspected Verhein’s involvement and I decided to do something that I suspected you would find distasteful.’ He paused, swallowed around the scrape in his throat. ‘I decided to let you proceed, to gather evidence, to then try to orient you in another direction, and to use that evidence to persuade Verhein to at least listen to us. Verhein was offered a staff position at Army High Command.’ Reinhardt nodded. ‘It would have put him at the heart of operations and close to Hitler himself. We needed him to take that post but as one of us. Or with us. He has been refusing it, but all of sudden I hear he is taking it. We think something has happened to make him change his mind.’
The telephone on Freilinger’s desk rang. Reinhardt jumped, looking at it. Freilinger ignored it. There were footsteps in the outer office, a voice, and the ringing stopped. ‘You are talking about blackmail.’
‘We are,’ said Meissner. ‘I am. Exactly that. We did not know of Verhein’s Jewish origins, although we suspected something like it because of what he has done and said – or rather didn’t do and say – throughout his military career. Especially in Russia. We did check his records. If they were falsified, they were very well falsified. Now we know. We can use this to talk to him.’
Reinhardt hunched forward again. He screwed his eyes tight shut and shook his head. ‘My God,’ he whispered. ‘You will use this…’ He looked up. ‘You are asking me to take no further action against a man who may have committed murder, or ordered it done.’ Meissner nodded. ‘Why? Because you need him?’
‘I am convinced Verhein will help us. He already is, only he can’t seem to see it. And if he can’t bring himself to help us willingly, then, yes, I will force him. I lose nothing but a pawn in a game. He stands to lose much, much more.’
His life. His career. Reinhardt thought back to Hendel’s dossier. ‘His sister.’
‘Yes,’ said Meissner. ‘His one weakness.’
‘You are talking about sacrifice. Two lives for one.’
‘No,’ rasped Freilinger. ‘We are talking about one life for many. For thousands. For hundreds of thousands.’
‘Think about it, Reinhardt,’ whispered Meissner. ‘Think what Verhein could mean for the resistance.’
‘I’m thinking, believe me,’ snapped Reinhardt. He screwed his palm into his forehead in frustration, and in embarrassment at having talked in such a way to Meissner. ‘Do you know,’ he said, his head in his hands, then looking up, ‘do you know what you’re taking away from me? For the first time in I don’t know how long, I had found myself again. Found a reason to be. To live.’
‘I can give you a reason, my boy. Now you know what I’m doing, what I stand for, you can join us. I can take you with me to Italy with Freilinger. This place is a slaughterhouse. It’s bad enough now, just wait until we’re gone, and everyone here is at each other’s throats again.’
Reinhardt thought about Dr Begovic and wanted to shake his head no, to tell Meissner it did not have to be that way, but he was distracted again by a telephone in the outer office, more voices. ‘I am sorry, Colonel. I… it just seems… wrong, to me.’
‘It’s a bit late to get a conscience, Reinhardt,’ snapped Meissner. Reinhardt froze, as a child freezes under the whip of his father’s voice. Meissner’s eyes bored into his, then softened. He passed a hand over his face. Reinhardt saw how the hand shook, like an old man’s. For the first time, he seemed to see that Meissner’s skin was dotted with spots, stretched tight, clawlike, over the bones. ‘I am sorry, my boy,’ Meissner whispered. ‘I should never have said that.’
‘No,’ said Reinhardt. ‘It is a bit too late. But better late than never. I can do this. I can do this right. I need to.’ He looked down at the floor, back up. ‘Please.’
There was a knock at the door. Meissner and Freilinger froze. The colonel reached into his jacket, then nodded to Freilinger, who rose and crossed the office. Reinhardt saw that Freilinger’s holster was unbuttoned. He opened the door, then stepped out.
Meissner saw Reinhardt looking at his hand under his jacket. He swivelled his eyes to look at the office door where it stood ajar. Voices leaked in from the other room, words on the edge of comprehension. Meissner looked back at him with a flat expression, and Reinhardt was suddenly afraid. He did not recognise this man staring at him.
Freilinger shut the door and stood listening at it for a moment. Meissner looked at him, then cocked his head towards the door, eyebrows raised. ‘Nothing to do with us,’ Freilinger said, looking at shy;Reinhardt.
‘Sir. Colonel. Even if I wanted, even if I could help you, I can’t control Thallberg. I can make any promise to you but I don’t know what he would do.’
‘Does he trust you?’ Meissner still had not taken his hand out of his jacket.
Reinhardt thought of that childish interest that Thallberg had taken in his past as a detective. ‘Maybe.’ He thought of the way Thallberg’s mood could change, the way something hard seemed to slide into position behind his face. ‘I don’t know.’ He looked at Freilinger. ‘What was it about? Out there?’
The major hesitated. ‘The police are going to arrest Jelic for Vukic’s murder,’ he said, finally.
‘When?’
‘Now.’
Reinhardt rose to his feet. ‘Sir…’ he began to say to Meissner, but the colonel cut him off.
‘Stay out of it, Reinhardt.’
‘I can’t let that happen.’ He looked at Meissner’s hand under his jacket, at Freilinger’s unbuttoned holster. ‘That boy, Jelic, he has nothing to do with this. And don’t tell me he has to be another sacrifice.’
‘Reinhardt,’ said Meissner, taking his hand out from under his jacket and putting it on his knee.
‘No. Don’t say anything.’ He stood by Freilinger’s desk, but the major still stood between him and the door. He hefted the film case in his hand, then put it carefully on the table. The file, he kept. ‘You have done a lot for me over the years. I can never repay that. But I’ve done a lot for you too. I’ve led men to their deaths for you. I’ve fought for you until I had nothing left to give.’ Freilinger looked at Meissner, who nodded. Freilinger stepped aside. ‘There was a time when I don’t think I would have had to explain something like this to you.’ Meissner’s mouth tightened, as if Reinhardt’s words had struck home with the force of blows. He weakened, as he knew he would. He could not hurt this man to whom he owed so much. ‘I will think about… what you have said, sir. I will be in touch with you.’