Hearts of Stone (31 page)

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Authors: Simon Scarrow

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: Hearts of Stone
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His expression darkened as he continued. ‘Within a week of taking over, the German garrison was being attacked every day. It was as if the insurgents were keen to make a point that they hated us even more than the Italians. We know that their leader is called Mahos – at least, that’s his
nom de guerre
. The Italians and my predecessor posted rewards for anyone coming forward with information that would lead to his capture, but they’re a tight-lipped bunch, these Greeks. Mahos has been leading us a merry dance. He’s sabotaged several trucks in the vehicle park, shot at and wounded three of my men this week. Before that he ambushed a patrol and killed two men. We took reprisals of course, and went to shoot some of the local villagers. Stood ’em up against the cemetary wall, but before the machine gunner could open fire, he too was killed. Shot through the head. The rest of the squad came under fire and the prisoners managed to escape in the confusion. Our men managed to beat a hasty retreat, but not before they had lost another and three more were wounded. I went back in strength to destroy the village, but the people had fled, so we burned the place down.’

He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘The previous commander had completely failed to bring the island under control and lasted only two months in the job before I was called in to replace him. He fell down on the job, Muller. He lacked the ruthlessness to do what was necessary to bring these Greek dogs to heel. I will succeed where he failed. My mountain troops will be more than a match for the
andartes
, as they call themselves. And your knowledge of the island will be most helpful in permitting my regiment to crush them.’

Peter nodded. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll do my duty.’

Salminger paused a moment. ‘I understand that the work may not be to your taste, Muller. After all, I am sure that you counted some of the islanders as friends when you used to live here.’

‘That’s right, sir.’

‘Then it is a pity that you must consider them enemies now. But perhaps you may be of service to them, if only you can persuade them to use their influence to encourage others to accept our presence and not cause any trouble. I would prefer that we and the islanders treated each other as well as we can under the circumstances. However, if they persist in taking pot shots at my men, then I will do whatever is necessary to capture the culprits and make an example of them. I have also let it be known that for every German soldier they kill, I will take ten people off the streets of Lefkada and shoot them. I know it’s a harsh reaction, but sometimes the hardest lesson is the one that is taken to heart. Is that not so?’

Peter swallowed and nodded. ‘I understand the thinking behind such reprisals, yes, sir.’

‘But you do not agree with it?’

‘I think it hardens the will to resist the occupying forces, sir. But if those are the orders, then they must be obeyed.’

‘Good!’ The Oberstleutnant clapped his hands together. ‘Then we shall look forward to a peaceful posting on this fine island when the locals have got the message. My adjutant has arranged accommodation for you in the town. You’ll be shown to it after we’re finished here. There’ll be a desk found for you in the prefecture. When you are sent into the field you will be a supernumerary under the command of the local officer. Clear?’

‘Clear, sir.’

‘Very well.’ Salminger rested his hands on the desk and regarded Peter curiously for a moment. ‘Your presence here is not confined to the duties I have outlined. There is another, somewhat more exotic purpose.’

‘Sir?’

Salminger smiled, enjoying the younger officer’s discomfort. ‘As it happens, you are not the only officer on the island who speaks Greek and has some knowledge of the area.’ He leaned forward and picked up the phone and tapped the receiver. ‘Schumann? Send for the Sturmbannführer at once.’

Peter’s ears pricked up at the mention of the SS rank, equivalent to a major in the Wehrmacht. What could Himmler’s organisation have to do with his posting to Lefkas?

‘And once you have sent for him, I want that damned coffee brought in here without any more delay. For three of us. See to it!’

Salminger replaced the phone and gestured towards the chairs lining one side of his office. ‘Bring two of those over here and take a seat.’

Peter nodded and did as he was instructed, hardly feeling any more comfortable sitting stiff-backed on the chair than on his feet under the gaze of his prickly superior. They were not kept waiting long before there was a knock at the door and the corporal opened it to reveal a smartly dressed officer with the green piping of the mountain troops on his shoulder boards and the SS runes on his collar label. His hair was short without being cropped and Peter started as he recognised the man.

‘Heinrich . . .’ He smiled spontaneously, rose to his feet and held out his hand.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

H
is father’s former assistant returned the smile hesitantly and then strode across the room to take his hand. His grip was firm and the shake was brisk. Peter quickly recovered his wits and tried to make up for his breach of military etiquette. ‘Sturmbannführer Steiner, it is a pleasure to see you again.’

‘And you too, Peter.’ Steiner stood back to look him up and down. ‘So different from the young boy I remember. A man now, and a soldier too. But then, who isn’t these days?’ His smile faded. ‘I was sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man, and a fine scholar.’

‘Yes . . .’

‘I know it will be of little consolation, but I am sure his death would have been quick and painless. His home took a direct hit, so I understand.’

Peter found it hard to take much comfort from the manner of his father’s death but felt some gratitude to Steiner for expressing his sympathy.

The door opened again and the corporal entered carrying a tray with three cups and a pot on it. He set the tray down on the table and left the room. The distraction ended the awkwardness of a moment earlier and Peter and Steiner took their seats opposite their superior as he poured them each a cup.

‘I was explaining to Muller that the purpose of his posting to the island went beyond the services of acting as an interpreter. But I think you’re better placed to say why. If you would be so good.’ He held out a cup and Steiner took it carefully and settled back and looked at Peter.

‘It would be pleasant to spend some time catching up on each other’s news, but the Oberstleutnant is a busy man and it would intrude on his time. We can leave such things to a later time and talk over a bottle of wine. Just like the old days, eh?’

Peter nodded amiably.

‘You will recall the purpose of our excavations on the island?’ Steiner continued in a more serious tone.

‘Of course. My father was looking for the palace and tomb of Odysseus. Not that he ever found conclusive evidence of the former. His work was cut short when we were recalled to Germany.’

‘Sadly, the needs of the fatherland outweigh all else at such times. But your father’s work, and mine, was not in vain, even if we were not able to complete it.’

Peter nodded. ‘It is true. There were a number of finds of archaeological value but nothing of great significance.’

A thin smile appeared on Steiner’s lips. ‘That remains to be seen. I think your father was on the cusp of a very great discovery, something of immeasurable historic significance, as it happens. Something he was not prepared to share with me at the time.’

‘I find that hard to believe, Herr Sturmbannführer. He never said anything to me about it.’

‘Which is a tribute to his discretion. However, he did reveal something shortly before his death.’

Salminger slid Peter’s coffee across the desk carefully. Nodding his thanks, Peter took his cup and saucer and turned his attention back to Steiner. ‘In Berlin?’

‘Yes. I was on leave and I called in to see the doctor at the university,’ Steiner said in a casual tone. ‘We agreed to have dinner the same night and began to talk about our work over the meal and for some hours afterwards.’ He smiled. ‘I’m afraid we had more wine than was good for us, and that is probably why your father’s tongue loosened a bit. He revealed that he had made a discovery in those last few days. I eventually managed to coax something out of him.’ He fixed Peter with a steady gaze. ‘He implied that it was the tomb of Odysseus. The very tomb itself.’

‘Implied?’

‘It seemed clear enough to me that is what he meant. He went on to say that it was close to the site where we had been digging. He did not want to say more at that stage but invited me to his house the following evening to show me the evidence of his find. I agreed. I cannot express how excited I was to learn more. However, the morning after, the American bombers raided the city. Your father was killed in his house, along with hundreds of others. I was fortunate enough to be on the outskirts of Berlin. I saw it all from a distance. Terrible . . . Quite terrible that the enemy should strike at our civilians so ruthlessly.’

It was tempting to remind Steiner of the attacks carried out on the cities of Britain a few years earlier, but Peter resisted the impulse. In war one atrocity always failed to balance another.

Steiner took a sip of coffee and his cup clinked lightly as he set the saucer down on his thigh. ‘Most of his papers were destroyed by the same blast. Some were salvaged and taken to the university. I looked them over but I could find nothing that related to the extraordinary claim he made that night. I thought he might have told you something, or that you know where he might have kept other records.’

Peter shook his head. ‘I knew nothing of this. This is all quite a surprise to me, sir. I had no idea.’

‘A pity . . . Do you know of any papers he might have left at any other location that might reveal more?’

‘No.’

Steiner frowned. ‘I feared you would say that. But while you are here you may remember something that could help me in my search for your father’s discovery, when you are not assisting the Oberstleutnant, of course.’

He exchanged a nod with the garrison commander.

‘Pardon me, sir, but are you saying that you were sent to Lefkas to find the tomb, or whatever it is my father discovered?’

‘Of course. Why else would I be here? We have had men on the island even under the noses of the Italians while we searched for the site. I myself have only been here for a few weeks. It was my idea to send for you.’

Peter frowned slightly. ‘I still don’t understand. Why go to such an effort in the middle of a war?’

Steiner drained his cup and set the saucer down on the desk. ‘It’s a fair question. Perhaps I should explain that I am part of a special unit set up by Reichsführer Himmler. For many years now he has taken an interest in historical artefacts. Some are religious in nature, others simply of archaeological interest. But all such things have a value, a certain . . . aura that they bestow upon the nation that possesses them. I happened to mention my discussion with your father to my superiors and they were very interested to see if there was anything in it. Imagine, a legendary king’s tomb, filled with treasures looted from Troy. You can understand why Himmler would want them to be claimed by Germany. No?’

The thought of the contents of the tomb of Odysseus being revealed to the world momentarily inspired Peter. And then he was struck by the sheer fancifulness of Steiner’s absurd mission. A war was raging across Europe, and the wider world, and yet there was time to allocate much-needed resources to hunting down ancient tombs and seizing their contents. This was a manner of madness exhibited by the Nazi hierarchy that he had not encountered before.

‘Forgive me, sir, but it seems far-fetched. I don’t know what my father said to you, but from what I can recall of our expedition, we found no trace of any tomb.’

Steiner flicked a loose thread off his trousers. ‘That’s because your father did not take either of us into his confidence at the time. I imagine he wanted to keep his discovery to himself until he was able to return here and uncover the tomb.’

‘Then why would he break his silence to tell you?’

Steiner shrugged. ‘Maybe he was afraid he might not survive the war and that his discovery would die with him. And since the island had come under our control there was a chance that an approach to the relevant authorities might lead to a new expedition.’

Peter considered this for a moment, and felt wounded that his father had not felt able to confide in him – if what Steiner said was the truth.

‘In any event,’ Steiner continued, ‘your orders are to assist our efforts here, and that includes helping me. I shall look forward to having the esteemed Dr Muller’s son working alongside me. Just like old times, eh?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then we’ll waste no time in getting started.’ He stood up and crossed the room to the map and indicated a village a few kilometres from the site of the dig. ‘Two companies of mountain troops will be driving up to Alatro early tomorrow morning. They will conduct a patrol of the hills north of the village to try and flush out some of the resistance bands. It’s part of the ongoing campaign to rid this island of the
andartes
. We’ll go with them, Leutnant. They will provide cover for us while we go about our work. A squad has been assigned to my command to help search the site of the excavation. Your father provided me with a few details that should help direct our search. If we find nothing, then we’ll come back when the next sweep is organised and look again. We will find that tomb however long it takes, and when we do, you can be confident that your father is given his share of the credit for the discovery. Of course, I will be sure to acknowledge your help in the matter as well.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Steiner smiled. ‘Then our business is finished here. Unless the Oberstleutnant has anything to add?’ He turned deferentially to the other officer who had been listening. Salminger leaned back and crossed his arms.

‘You know my views on this wild goose chase of yours.’

Steiner’s expression hardened. ‘I am sure that the Reichsführer would be interested to know that you consider it as such.’

‘The Reichsführer is in Berlin. My men and I are here. Our priority is to stamp down on the resistance. Be that as it may, I have my orders to assist you, and I will do so as long as it does not interfere with my primary purpose.’

‘With respect, sir, you will assist me whatever your primary purpose may be.’

The garrison commander sniffed and waved towards the door. ‘You will have the men you need. Just don’t get yourselves into any trouble. Now, as you say, our business is finished. Muller, wait outside in the corridor. I’ll have one of my orderlies take you to your billet. As for you, Sturmbannführer, I dare say we’ll see each other at dinner. Dismissed.’

The others stiffened to attention and Steiner snapped his right arm out as he clicked his heels. ‘Heil Hitler.’

Peter followed suit and with a brief look of irritation Salminger casually raised his hand halfway in response.

Then Peter turned and followed Steiner from the office.

* * *

As night closed over Lefkada, Peter emerged from the baker’s house where he had been assigned a room. Another officer had already been accommodated there but had not returned from his duties by the time Peter had unpacked his kitbag, washed in the steel tub in the small yard behind the bakery, and put on his best uniform. He checked his hair in the mirror then stood back and gazed at his reflection. His face had filled out since he had been a teenager and his shoulders were broader. He still wore spectacles of the same design, round with steel frames, and he disliked the bookish look they conferred on him. He appeared more like a student than a soldier, he decided glumly. In truth, that was how he saw himself. Had it not been for the war he would have continued his studies at the university and been embarking on his doctorate. He ran his hand over his hair one last time and left the bakery and headed off into the heart of the old town. The streets were quiet now that the curfew imposed on the islanders had come into effect. Peter passed a handful of soldiers patrolling the streets but otherwise there was an eerie stillness to the dimly illuminated streets and alleys of Lefkada.

He paused outside the entrance to Inspector Thesskoudis’s house. The shutters were closed and only a thin glow from within illuminated the wooden slats. Peter strained his ears but could not make out the sound of any voices from within. Taking a deep, calming breath he walked up to the door, removed his cap and knocked twice. There was no response. He waited and then knocked again. This time he heard a muted exchange and footsteps shuffling within. A moment later the bolt slid back and the door opened a crack and a face peered round the edge, silhouetted by the dull glow of a lamp inside.

‘Who’s that?’ the woman demanded.

Peter could not help smiling as he recognised Eleni’s mother. He cleared his throat and answered in Greek. ‘It’s Peter Muller.’

There was a beat when the stillness of the town seemed to press in on the little scene and then the door opened a fraction wider and a dull loom fell upon the visitor, revealing his features.

‘Peter Muller?’ she muttered and then gave a gasp. ‘Peter?’

He bowed his head. ‘Hello, Mrs Thesskoudis. May I come in?’

‘What . . . What are you doing here?’ She glanced over his uniform and her eyes widened in anxiety. ‘Peter?’

‘Who is it?’ the policeman called from inside. ‘Rosa, who is it?’

‘It’s Peter. Peter Muller.’

‘Nonsense! I’m in no mood for games. Tell me.’

She hesitated long enough for her husband to join her and stare in surprise at the tall soldier standing at their door.

‘By the Holy Virgin,’ Thesskoudis exclaimed. Abruptly he leaned out of the door and glanced both ways along the street before urgently ushering the German inside. ‘Come in, my boy. Quickly.’

Peter stepped over the threshold and the door was closed swiftly behind him. A single electric bulb illuminated the main room of the house and the furniture cast dark shadows across the floor and walls. Thesskoudis recovered from his surprise and extended his hand cautiously.

‘It’s good to see you again . . . Welcome. Welcome!’ He smiled and steered Peter towards one of the chairs by the large table that also served as his desk. The remains of a meal were at one end and a small pile of papers and forms at the other. Only two places had been set, Peter noted as he sat down.

‘Rosa, fetch a bottle of raki and some glasses. We have an honoured guest!’ He laughed in that familiar way that Peter had almost forgotten and he could not help another smile. When all three had a glass to hand, Thesskoudis raised his and thought a moment before he gave the toast. ‘To friendships that stand the test of time and circumstance!
Eviva!

They drained their glasses and set them down sharply. Thesskoudis licked his lips and leaned towards his visitor. ‘So, Peter, what are you doing here? Part of the garrison I expect, yes?’

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