Evil Dreams (29 page)

Shortly after two, she had showered and dressed. While having a cup of tea, she had begun attacking the stack of mail. One by one the cards of sympathy were opened and answered immediately. She knew her responses would be more spontaneous that way, rather than open them, read the message, and later write a thank you card. Toward the bottom, she found the long, business envelope without a return address, her name neatly typed across the front. Opening it, she screamed when she read the contents. Frightened, then angry, then enraged, she picked up the telephone, dialing the police.

What kind of sick animal would send something as obscene as this letter to her? While she waited for her call to be put through, a persistent thought kept surfacing. Could the statements be true? Might the letter have actually been written before Sterling destroyed himself? She checked the postmark on the envelope and found the missive had been mailed the same day he had died. Whoever had written it wanted to blackmail her and her husband into giving the anonymous author ten thousand dollars to keep quiet about—about— She found it difficult to think of her husband performing the perverse acts outlined in the letter. Still, he had been undergoing analysis for almost a year for something he refused to discuss with her. Too, he had never been overly attentive to her. Not in the manner for which she had longed.

“Lieutenant Jules Hongisto speaking,” the raspy voice sandpapered into her ear, destroying her chain of thoughts.

“Lieutenant,” Millie said bravely, “this is Mrs. Millicent Tilden. I want to report an attempt to blackmail my late husband and me.”

Pulling on a sock, Sam hesitated, peering through the bathroom door where he could see Marie’s body outlined through the steamy glass door of the shower. One thought predominated. Finally. She had finally expressed herself totally and he knew it would not be too long before they would marry. A warm, secure feeling of fulfillment seeped into his body, sending a fresh tingling sensation through him. Could this be love? If feeling good all over while studying a surrealistic, flesh-colored silhouette in a steamy shower could be love, then Samuel Dayton truly loved Marie Von Keltzer. He had seen her in the shower many times but never had he experienced this type of excitement.

The splashing stopped when she turned off the water and opened the door. Stepping out, she saw Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed, frozen in the motion of pulling one sock on. “Sam?”

“Huh? Oh, hi!”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fantastic. How about you?”

“I’m very much in love with you, Sam Dayton. I hope you will forgi—”

“Hey, stop,” he broke in when he heard her voice cracking as though she were about to cry. “Look, you had your reasons for waiting until now. Whatever they were, you can tell me when you’re ready.”

She rushed from the bathroom, still dripping, to encircle his neck with her arms, kissing his cheek, eyes and mouth. “I do love you, Sam,” she murmured, tears of happiness and relief intermingling with the shower water dribbling from her hair.

After dressing, they alternately paced or sat in the living room waiting. The phone had to ring. When they considered the seven hours difference between Chicago and Vienna, the thoughts of failure on Helmut’s part repeatedly crossed their minds. Would he find the old manuscript? Was he having difficulty completing the transoceanic phone call?

The chimes sounded too loud when the phone finally rang. Marie and Sam both jumped to their feet.

“You take the phone in here, Sam, and I’ll use the bedroom extension so we both can talk with Helmut,” she said, leaving him.

He waited until he heard her say hello before picking up the phone in the living room. When he did, he heard an operator explaining that she had a phone call from Vienna. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Making the necessary introductions quickly and advising Helmut to speak English for Sam’s sake, Marie began. “What have you found? Did you locate the manuscript?”

“Yes, I did, Marie. It was just as you suggested. The coordinates are the same. Some rather intriguing things have been found, as well.”

She had been right about that part of the mystery. But were they truly dealing with the spirit of Adolf Hitler? His personality? Sam still had gigantic doubts and it would have to be crystal clear proof if he were to accept it. Half listening as Marie and her friend rehashed how the odd directions had stuck in both their minds, he wondered about the “intriguing” things Helmut had mentioned.

“Perhaps you’d best tell the whole thing for Sam’s benefit, Helmut,” she said. “Begin with Dr. Mattiges being called to meet with Hitler.”

“Very well,” he said, his English more heavily accented than Marie’s. “It was because of this particular job which Dr. Mattiges was asked to perform, that he went into hiding for the duration of the war.

“Mattiges refers to a method of hypnosis rather sketchily in the first part of the manuscript. He implies he discovered the means to keep someone in a hypnotic state for a very long time, ‘a matter of years was feasible,’ he said.”

“Years?” Sam broke in. That seemed impossible. With the use of drugs and mechanical devices, long periods of control were possible today, but over forty years ago such means had not yet been discovered.

“I know it doesn’t seem likely, Sam,” he offered. “I wish he would have gone into further detail but apparently the incident I’m about to relate caused him to decide against any implicit information.

“Around the middle of May, 1938, he was summoned to Berlin where he was informed the Fuehrer wanted to meet with him at Berchtesgaden. When Mattiges arrived at Berghof, Hitler’s villa, he was advised that he was to put on a demonstration of his new hypnotic technique for Hitler, himself. An army captain was placed in a trance and given post hypnotic suggestions, which were to be carried out at certain specific times in the future over the next three months. If the experiment succeeded, then Mattiges would be recalled and his technique further utilized.”

“Did you find out what the post hypnotic suggestions were, Helmut?” she asked.

“No. It was just an experiment for demonstration purposes. However, the experiment apparently worked since Mattiges was again called back to Berghof the first of August. I gather from bits and pieces in the manuscript that the method he discovered was capable of going deeper into the subconscious than any method before or since. Mattiges claims in his manuscript that he was able to order people to perform tasks absolutely contrary to their nature. We all know a person who is hypnotized normally, as is done today, will usually rebel against suggested actions they would not perform if they were conscious.”

“The thought is staggering,” Sam agreed. “It would be a powerful weapon during wartime, or peacetime, for that matter. Go ahead, Helmut.”

“When he was ordered back to Berghof, Mattiges was told by Hitler himself, and with no one else in the room, that he was to hypnotize four men. He would be given the post hypnotic suggestions by the Fuehrer. The men were brought into the room one at a time and the first, a sergeant, was placed in a state of hypnosis. Mattiges was told to order his subject to be totally subservient to a Colonel Koenig. No matter what was asked of him by the colonel, he was to execute the commands directly, explicitly and without hesitation. You can see what a powerful ally a man so hypnotized would be in any type of situation.”

“It is almost frightening when one thinks of the potential,” Marie said softly.

“I agree,” Sam concurred, “but what has all this to do with Jon’s dream and its solution?”

“Please be patient, Sam,” she said.

“I understand your concern,” Helmut said slowly. “I’m positive that if you listen to this story you will have the understanding and answers you need.”

“Okay. I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“The next man brought in after the sergeant was an S.S. captain who had been trained as an agent. His orders were to locate the precise spot given in the directions based on the coordinates. He was to transmit a radio signal on a prearranged band and provide fires to guide a plane in for a landing. He, too, was to be totally subservient to this Colonel Koenig.”

Helmut hesitated as though waiting for questions. During the lull, nothing could be heard but their quiet breathing mixed with normal phone noises.

He continued. “The colonel, a Luftwaffe pilot, was next after the S.S. man. From what Mattiges says in his writings, the men would appear to be normal, except they would react to certain commands or stimuli. Granted, this is no different than methods we use today but post hypnotic suggestions are limited the way we currently use them. Several months at the longest and suggestions will be very weak at best. When he implanted the orders in the colonel’s subconscious, the coordinates were mentioned again. He was to fly to the exact spot, sixty kilometers south and sixty kilometers east of the coordinates. There, he would see the fires the agent would have lighted and would have been able to find them because of the radio signal being sent. The plane was to carry a cargo of gold, which was to be buried near a landmark of some sort resembling a swastika. When the sergeant and the agent were finished with their digging, the colonel was ordered to kill them and bury their bodies with the gold. All evidence of their having been there was to be obliterated.”

“This landmark, Helmut,” Marie broke in, “did Mattiges say what it was?”

“He doesn’t say if it is a natural or man made formation. It isn’t really important, unless you want to hunt for the gold,” Helmut said, his voice lifting in a good natured jibe.

“I don’t think we’ll have time. Do you, Sam?” she asked.

He grunted his agreement. Gold? What a shipment of gold, a landmark shaped like a swastika, or a few German soldiers, had to do with Jon Ward’s dream remained a befuddled mystery to him. Unless—? Suddenly, the clouds began thinning and Sam felt he might be grasping the cryptic meaning of the dream.

“When the task was completed, Koenig was to fly back to the point of takeoff and report to a General Kleist. The General was the last of the four men brought in.”

“I really don’t see what all this has to do with ridding Jon Ward of his problem, namely the fact that his voice changed and he said he was Adolf Hitler,” Sam said, breaking into Helmut’s report. He wished the German would stop being so dramatic.

“I know it sounds farfetched considering this took place over forty years ago, Sam,” he said, “but if you listen, I think you’ll understand some of the things that were said while your patient was in a trance.”

“All right, Helmut,” he agreed reluctantly, “go ahead.” He found himself wondering if his own thoughts would be close to matching the solution Helmut claimed to have.

“The general was hypnotized and given his orders which included overseeing the transport of the gold to Mexico by submarine where it was to be transferred to a truck, acquired by yet another undercover operative, who simply was obeying orders. The truck, general, colonel and sergeant were then driven over the Mexican border into New Mexico, to a town—ah, Lordsburg. There another agent had acquired the use of an airplane and the cases of gold were loaded. The colonel and sergeant flew to their preselected designation. Here’s the—how do you say—clincher? The general was ordered to kill Koenig when he returned to Lordsburg after completing his mission. Then, the general was to report back to Hitler and finish his remarks by asking for a glass of wine. Mattiges guessed the wine was probably poisoned. Consequently, Hitler would be the only one cognizant of all of this information.”

“But Mattiges was aware of it, was he not, Helmut?” Marie asked.

“Of course. Apparently, Mattiges thought if he could escape with his own life, he would be lucky, considering everything he had been told by Hitler. But, in order to make his plan completely secret and foolproof, Hitler had ordered the doctor to be murdered as well, once the hypnosis had been performed.”

“Why wasn’t he?” Sam asked, caught up in the fascinating tale.

“A captain of Hitler’s personal guard was to drive the psychiatrist back to Vienna. When he topped the automobile in which they were traveling, he pulled a gun. However, Providence stepped in to protect Doctor Mattiges.”

“What happened?” Marie asked.

“The captain was apparently an epileptic and suffered a seizure just as he drew his gun. Mattiges watched as his intended murder choked to death. Then, free, the doctor went into hiding lest Hitler find him and finish the job at which the captain had failed. You know, of course, what the coordinates are?” Helmut asked.

“Yes,” Sam said. “I had them checked out last week. The Four Corners area where four states’ boundaries meet at right angles.”

“What is your conclusion then, Helmut?” Marie asked.

“I feel your patient truly does have Adolf Hitler’s spirit within him. I don’t feel this is just one personality splitting into fragments, but two separate, distinct personalities. Not such as you find in cases of dual or multiple personalities. No. This is a case of soul transmigration wherein Hitler’s spirit intermixed with the spirit that was to become your patient at the time of the rape mentioned while the subject was under hypnosis.”

“And you say this because—” Marie asked.

“Because it is not possible for your patient to know of these particular coordinates in conjunction with these specific directions in any other way. Only two people knew of them ultimately—Mattiges and Hitler. Both are dead but the directions were evidently important to Hitler just as he died. Consequently, the memory and ability to recall them.”

“Do you actually believe this is what happened, Helmut?” Sam asked.

“If there is a spirit in each one of us, and that spirit lives beyond the body’s death, yes. I believe it without reservation.”

“Why, or better, how, could this have happened?” he persisted.

“At the instant of the body’s death, the spirit can become totally disoriented. Without being aware, it can refuse to acknowledge its own body’s physical death.”

“Are you saying this is the case here?” Sam wanted to fight the reasoning, but knew he had no alternate argument at this point.