Vengeance 10 (21 page)

‘We, Herr Reichsprotektor?’

‘We, Herr Doktor Bethwig. For if I fail in this, we all fail. For me it will be no more than a slap on the wrist. My position is secure. But for you and your friends at Peenemunde it could be worse.’

‘In what way?’

Heydrich gave an elaborate shrug. The research centre could be closed. There is already more than sufficient sentiment for that. You and your friends might then find yourselves in combat units, perhaps on the eastern front.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Bethwig studied him for a moment: let the reichsprotektor win this round and Heydrich would own him for ever. ‘Even as head of the SS in France, Herr Reichsprotektor, do you not feel that you are overstating your case?’ His question was blunt. ‘Certainly the SS is strong politically, and your own position is so secure as to be unassailable. But there is still the army to consider and the party infrastructure. Even the SS cannot dictate to both at the same time.’

Heydrich sat forward with a huge grin, snapped his fingers, and pointed at Bethwig. ‘I knew I had judged you correctly. You are a sensible man, and you understand the use of power. It is good to talk things out like this, to make certain that we understand one another.’

Bethwig nodded, not at all relieved by his jovial mood. ‘Yes, I agree. I do, however, wonder why you are bothering to explain all this to someone as unimportant as I am.’

‘Ah, hardly unimportant, and I think you know that as well as I. Your father is a very powerful man in the party, and your own position as an early party member counts for a great deal in itself. Also I consider you the key man at Peenemunde. I fully believe that you are every bit as intelligent and capable as Herr von Braun. Now, let’s stop complimenting each other and get down to business.’

Heydrich leaned forward and tapped out his points on the table between them. ‘Number one, in spite of Doktor von Braun’s reservations, the project must move forward as close to the timetable I have established as possible. The situation has been discussed with Minister Speer, and he has promised every cooperation in the matter of material and manpower priorities. I have arranged for him to obtain the release of a thousand technically trained people to be transferred from the army to Peenemunde. They will be reconstituted as a reserve army unit to provide security. In fact, they may be used as necessary.

‘Point two, the rocket must be ready as soon as possible. Even if all the safeguards possible have not been incorporated. There will be no end of volunteers ready to risk their lives for the Reich.

‘Third, Herr Doktor von Braun must be replaced. I see no other choice. Somehow I must convince you to accept the position.’ Heydrich smiled pleasantly. ‘There are any number of incentives that can be supplied. However, it must be understood that we are constructing a military weapon which will be less than perfect. That is the sticking point with von Braun. He demands absolute perfection and safety. As long as the task can be done, I am not interested in the cost, in money or lives. My God!’ - he threw up his hands - ‘if we had to wait until our fighter aircraft or tanks were absolutely perfect in every respect, we would still be flying gliders and driving automobiles with tin plates welded on for armour.

‘Finally - and this is the reason for haste - ‘ He paused and stared hard at Bethwig. ‘And this information is not to leave this room, do you understand?’

Bethwig nodded, not certain what was coming next, in spite of the hindrance of other agencies, this information has been gathered. We have recently learned that the Jew scientist Albert Einstein, who defected to the United States some years ago, has convinced Roosevelt that a uranium bomb is feasible. We believe that work has already begun by the Americans, and perhaps by the British, to perfect a bomb. A number of traitor Jew scientists are working feverishly on the project, and there is no doubt that the bomb will be used against Germany. Morgenthau will see to that. So time is running out. My planning staff, which you disparage, has estimated that the Allies will have a uranium bomb at the earliest in the autumn of 1944 and at the latest the summer of 1946.’

The information stunned Bethwig. He had been so certain of their position that he had never considered the possibility that the Allies might beat them to the uranium bomb. ‘Does Wernher know this?’ he finally managed to ask.

‘No. I did not feel secure in telling him. He is not a party member and I am not certain of his politics.’

Bethwig leaned forward. As he spoke a finger punctuated each word: ‘Herr Heydrich, this information does not change my mind. Von Braun is the best man for the job. I will not replace him under any circumstances. As much as I desire the post of director, to accept it would be a major mistake.’

‘I do not agree.’

I Franz threw himself back in his chair. How to make this man understand? ‘There is more than just friendship involved. In wartime there is no room for such considerations. Doktor von Braun is the only man who can do this job.’

Heydrich shook his head. ‘You could be as effective. Perhaps more so, as you understand the political considerations.’

‘No!’ Bethwig slapped the table. ‘I must insist that you are wrong in this matter.’

Heydrich stared at him a moment, considering, then nodded brusquely, ‘Is there anything else to be discussed?’

‘There is another problem.’

‘And that is?’

‘We are feeling increasing resistance from the army over use of the facilities at Peenemunde for the A-Ten. As you know, our highest priority from the Weapons Development Command is the A-Four rocket.’

‘I am aware of that problem, and steps are being taken to solve it. Within a week you should see the interference disappear.’ Bethwig was now conscious of an awkward silence. He did not know what else to say. Although the need was pressing, he knew that applying more pressure could not possibly make the project move faster. He was also aware that nothing under the sun would convince Heydrich of that fact.

For the next hour they reviewed the A-10 project. Bethwig was able to report that the first engines had been assembled for testing and that the instrumentation was nearly all in place. Beyond that, aerodynamic and structural studies were nearly completed, and the shops had already begun fabricating those components with the longest lead times. Any final changes necessary could be made as they went along.

Heydrich professed himself satisfied. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded Bethwig closely. ‘You will accept the position of A-Ten project director then?’

The question startled him. He thought that Heydrich had satisfied himself that he would never replace von Braun. Bethwig spread his hands in exasperation. ‘How can I, Reinhard? I have given you my reasons for refusing. Von Braun is the only man who in my opinion can do the job. I certainly recognise the urgency but … ‘

Heydrich’s expression had become hard and frightening. ‘You must do more than that, Herr Doktor Bethwig. You must accept. We will discuss the matter further tomorrow, before I leave for Paris.’

Bethwig nodded, relieved that the inquisition was over, at least temporarily.

His exasperation began to wear off as soon as he left Heydrich’s office. The afternoon and evening he would spend with Inge were as much as he wanted to think about for now. He had decided that they would go for a drive during the afternoon, but when he tried to arrange for a car at the reception desk, he was told by an apologetic clerk that all were in use. On the way to his suite he noticed that a guard had been stationed at the end of the corridor.

Inge was gone, every trace. The bed had been made and an antiseptic-smelling deodorant sprayed about the room to cover even the trace of her perfume. When he phoned the reception desk, they of course knew nothing, and the SS guard at the end of the corridor would only stare silently ahead.

Bethwig tried to remain calm, but after the first hour he was pacing from one end of the apartment to the other. He knew what Heydrich was up to - a demonstration. The lesson was bitter but not unexpected. Heydrich meant to show him what it was like to have a favourite toy taken away. The bastard! Inge had become more than a toy. Though why he loved her as he thought he did, he could not be certain.

Inge was returned at nine o’clock that evening. He heard a timid knock and threw open the door and the girl collapsed against him. Franz kicked the door shut and carried her into the bedroom. For a moment he thought she was drunk, but there was no odour of alcohol. Her head lolled to one side as he placed her on the bed, and she moaned when he lifted her arm on to the cover. He pushed the sleeve back and shock jolted through him. Swearing like a madman, Bethwig tore away her light summer dress. The sight was stunning. Her chest and back were covered with purplish bruises. Cigarette burns dotted her breasts. Wire marks encircled her thighs and upper arms, and a livid SS brand had been burned into each buttock.

When Bethwig calmed down enough to lift the telephone to call for a doctor, the line was dead. The door to the corridor was locked, from the outside. An SS guard stood beneath the balcony, and when he looked over, the sentry raised his rifle and ordered him back inside. Unable to believe what was happening, Bethwig lowered himself into a chair beside the bed. Inge seemed to have been drugged. She tossed restlessly but was semi-conscious and totally incoherent.

After a while he wet a towel in the bathroom and began to bathe her carefully. The cool water had a soothing effect, and her restlessness ceased. In the dark hour before dawn she wakened screaming. Bethwig took her in his arms, whispering her name over and over until she calmed. Then he filled a glass with brandy and persuaded her to drink. Afterwards Inge lay back, movements stiff and slow, and as she told him what had happened he examined her body under the bed lamp until convinced that the damage was more painful than dangerous. None of the burns were deep except for the two SS brands, and those seemed to have been treated with an antiseptic.

From what he could make out from her childish narration, it seemed she had been ordered back to her room after he had left for his appointment with Heydrich that morning. Her story was not always coherent, and he had to interpret a lot that she did not understand. Assuming that he had left and that she would be reassigned, Inge had done as she was told. Instead, the matron had sent her to the basement. Though frightened, she had still expected nothing more than a beating. It was not the first time. There were so many rules and a guest’s single negative comment was considered reason enough for a whipping. But such punishments were limited to no more than ten strokes with a rubber hose administered by the matron. The hose left no marks and, while painful did no damage. The matron apparently enjoyed the punishments, and they were given liberally.

Only, this time the matron was not in the punishment room. Two men stripped her, then tied her hands to a hook in the ceiling and beat her with hoses. Between beatings they left her hanging from the hook. The day became a nightmare of electric shocks, cigarette burns, and more beatings. She was raped repeatedly and finally branded. They revived her especially for that.

Bethwig heard her out, not interrupting, knowing that she had to purge herself of the ordeal. Then she drifted back into a restless sleep, and he covered her gently with a sheet and stepped out on the balcony. Again the sentry shouted at him, and for an instant Bethwig’s sanity came near to snapping. A plaster urn filled with geraniums rested on the ledge, and without thinking, he swept it up and hurled it at the man. The pot burst on the steps, but the soldier had ducked inside. Bethwig shouted a curse after him and went back to the bedroom.

An hour later a doctor came for Inge. With him were a nurse and two orderlies. The doctor examined her, shook his head, and had the orderlies place her on a stretcher. The nurse stared at Franz, eyes blazing, and he knew then what the next step would be.

An SS officer appeared next. A standardtenführer who introduced himself as Edgar Ullman, he was accompanied by an enlisted clerk and two armed guards. Bethwig was ordered to sit beside the desk, and the officer opened his portfolio.

‘Herr Bethwig, it is my duty to inform you that charges of rape, assault, and battery have been lodged against you by one Inge Schuster, employed as a staff maid. She has charged that you forced her to commit unspeakable sexual acts, and that when she resisted, you beat and tortured her into submission. I myself have seen the results.’

The officer’s expression of contempt was so real that Bethwig decided he could not be a party to the charade.

‘Do you have anything to say in your defence?’ the officer asked. Bethwig remained silent, and after a moment the SS officer stood, in that case I must report that you refused to speak to me. I will remind you that Prague is under martial law and that you will therefore be tried by a military court-martial. The incident has come to the attention of the reichsprotektor, who has promised to review the details when he returns from the city this afternoon. He told me personally that if he must delay his departure for Paris he will do so.’

‘I would imagine so,’ Bethwig replied dryly, speaking for the first time since Inge had been taken away. ‘And where have they taken Inge?’

The officer’s stare was cold. ‘To a hospital, of course.’

Bethwig thought for a moment. ‘Colonel, I believe that you are doing what you think is correct. So do this for yourself, not for me. Check and see what hospital Inge was taken to. Then go and ask her who treated her like that.’

‘Are you saying you are not responsible?’

‘Just do as I suggest.’ Bethwig turned his back on them then, and a moment later the door slammed.

For the next four days Bethwig was held a virtual prisoner in the apartment. His door was locked from the outside, and his meals were brought by an elderly man who spoke no German. The guard below the balcony had been supplemented after the flowerpot incident, and he was not allowed outside. During the long hours he rationed his cigarettes, tried to read the few books he could find in German, French, or English, and stood at the window for what seemed ages worrying about Inge. He was safe enough, he decided. All he had to do was agree to Heydrich’s demands; and once he had done so, Heydrich would probably agree to release the girl, and perhaps even allow him to take her away from Prague.