On Desperate Ground (26 page)

Then the enormity of it hit him. The transfer of over one hundred recuperating patients when the Wehrmacht had taken over the hospital! One hundred nurses’ aides had accompanied them to safety in Bavaria. One hundred Jews! Openly smuggled out of the city under his nose, and on government transport at that! There were various letters and memorandum on file from the hospital making the proposal to the Wehrmacht and arranging the transfer.
Herr
Doktor Kappelen, whom Hettstedt remembered from his hospital visit, signed them all. In one, Elsa Klein was designated to provide the nurses’ aides for the transferred patients. Elsa Klein, fiancée of
Hauptmann
Neukirk!
 

He had her. And that meant he had Dieter Neukirk, which meant he had Operation Gambit within his grasp. But there were more secrets to be discovered.

The next day, Hettstedt had also discovered that an enlisted man carried on the ranks of the Brandenburg Division as Hans Schierke was actually Hans von Schierke. Von Schierke was a distant cousin of Fabian von Schlabrendorff, one of the chief conspirators in the 20
^th
of July plot against Hitler’s life. Von Schierke had been observed meeting with his cousin several times prior to the assassination attempt. After the failure of the coup, he had dropped out of sight. Transcripts of von Schlabrendorff’s interrogation showed that he denied that his cousin had any part in the plot, and that the meetings had simply been family get-togethers. No matter. Von Schierke had not been found after 20 July, and now Hettstedt had found him, hidden in plain sight under Dieter Neukirk’s command in the Brandenburg Division. The missing “von” was clever, but Hettstedt’s investigation had turned up the fact that the Hans Schierke on the Brandenburg payroll did not match up with any service records in the Wehrmacht files. It was another loose thread that Hettstedt pulled until it came apart. His joy knew no bounds. With a traitor in the ranks of Operation Gambit, he had even more evidence than he needed.

The evidence against Neukirk and Operation Gambit ran through his head as Hettstedt walked through the main office to his desk. He called out to his clerk as he passed by. “Heinz, is the final report ready?”

“Yes, sir. The typist brought it up early this morning. It is on your desk. And
Meister
Paul Popitz is waiting to see you.”

Meister
was a Gestapo police rank equivalent to a
Feldwebel
. Popitz was assigned to foreign diplomat surveillance in
Amt
IVF, and had been detached to Hettstedt’s special investigation.
 

“I must see
Brigadeführer
Fegelin immediately. Tell him to wait.”

Hettstedt strode to his desk and threw off his coat. He picked up the thick report and signed the cover sheet. Popitz was just a lowly policeman. He would have to wait while Hettstedt dealt with the highest Reich security matters. Hettstedt tried to control his mounting excitement as he headed up the stairs to present his findings to Fegelin.

Brigadeführer
Hermann Fegelin leaned back in his chair and crossed his booted feet on the corner of his desk. He lit a cigarette with his gold lighter and exhaled languidly. He flipped through the report while Hettstedt stood quietly at attention in front of his desk.

“
Brigadeführer.
”

Fegelin held up the flat of his hand without looking at Hettstedt, silencing him as surely as a verbal command. He detested Hettstedt and his pretensions to higher rank and influential circles. That was Fegelin’s territory, and he made sure that no star shown brighter than his in the
Führer’s
eyes. Except Himmler’s, of course.
 

He could tell Hettstedt was in an excited state and expected to be rewarded or commended for his work. He was pathetically eager. Fegelin decided to deflate him for a moment, and looked up at Hettstedt while he flicked his cigarette ash. “Only one traitor in the whole bunch? Disappointing,
Sturmbannführer
.”
 

“But sir, we have the Klein woman who is Neukirk’s fiancée. She is clearly involved with providing Jewish criminals with false papers. And Neukirk had to know about von Schierke changing his name.” Hettstedt was on the verge of pleading when Fegelin interrupted him.

“So how do you plan to proceed?”

“We pick up Fräulien Klein and interrogate her to learn who else at St. Ludwig’s is involved with hiding fugitive Jews, and if Neukirk had knowledge of it. I will then pick up von Schierke. With both of them in custody, we are certain to break one and get a signed confession against Neukirk. With that, the Wehrmacht command of Operation Gambit will be discredited, and you and the
Reichsführer
will be able to take control.”

“And the operation is ready?”

“Gambit is fully operational. The thrust of the Russian advance actually is as Colonel Faust predicted. His forces are in the right place to take advantage of it. They are small, but quite powerful. It could work.”

“Wait outside, Hettstedt.” Fegelin indicated the door. A puzzled Hettstedt left to wait in the anteroom. As soon as the door shut behind him, Fegelin swiveled his legs off his desk and dropped his mask of indifference. He picked up the telephone and dialed
Reichsführer
Himmler’s direct line.

“
Reichsführer!
I have Hettstedt’s report. It is everything we need.” Fegelin reviewed the evidence Hettstedt had found.
 

“We should have confessions within the week. I can then present our findings to the
Führer.
Yes, sir, I am sure it would be more appropriate for you to make the report. Yes,
Reichsführer,
I will tell him to proceed. Yes, cautiously. Heil Hitler!”

Fegelin rested the telephone in its cradle and smiled. He had wanted to see if Himmler was fully behind the plan for the SS to take over Operation Gambit. If Himmler had allowed him to make the report to Hitler, he knew he could not count on the
Reichsführer’s
support. If anything went wrong, he would be left out in the cold, without any written authorization. But Himmler had jumped at the chance, meaning he trusted the information about Gambit and its chances for success.
 

But Fegelin had his own precautions to take. He opened his door and called Hettstedt in.
 

“
Sturmbannführer,
I have told
Reichsführer
Himmler about your work and recommended you to lead the special squads to take the traitors named in your report into custody.” He watched a mix of confusion and pride play across Hettstedt’s face. Of course he had expected he would take the lead in arresting Klein and von Schierke, but he was also flattered that Himmler himself knew of his work. Fegelin had succeeded in clearly showing Hettstedt that he was dependent on his largess in this affair.
 

“Why—thank you, sir.”

“Not at all, my dear Hettstedt. In my opinion, you deserve it. Now, the confessions are a foregone conclusion. Simply decide if Klein or von Schierke or both will provide what we need. But do not harm them too severely. We may want to bargain with Neukirk for a confession about Faust.”
 

Hettstedt understood immediately. They had nothing specific on Neukirk, but to save his fiancée and friend, perhaps they could get him to incriminate Faust and make Gambit a totally SS operation. He nodded, eagerly, in agreement.

“And remember, Hettstedt,” Fegelin leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Faust is still a favorite of the
Führer
. We must be certain of all our information before moving against him.”

“Very well,
Brigadeführer,
I understand.”

“Good.” Fegelin went over to Hettstedt and casually put his arm on his shoulder as he walked him out of the office. “Remember that you are now working on a matter of the highest Reich security. Your orders come through me from
Reichsführer
Himmler himself. You must proceed with lightning force, but you must not eliminate any of these suspects. We may need them for a greater gain.”

“Yes, sir. Will you approve the report and issue the orders for this action?”

Fegelin put on a stern face and looked Hettstedt straight in the eyes. “
Sturmbannführer,
at this level we do not issue written orders. You have the full authority of this office to conduct this action. Draw what security troops you need. Paperwork is for the lower levels, Hettstedt. Do well in this action and we can skip a grade and promote you to
Oberführer
when it is concluded.”

Hettstedt’s eyes widened. He felt that he had been accepted into an elite circle of the SS. He snapped to attention and stuck out his arm in the Nazi salute. “Heil Hitler!”

“Heil Hitler!”
 

Fegelin smiled encouragingly as Hettstedt left.
Idiot
, he thought.

Hettstedt trotted down the stairway, bursting with energy. He strode into his office, eyes darting about the room. He felt taller, more powerful, almost godlike. He was acting on behalf of the
Reichsführer
and his personal representative to Adolf Hitler! He had spent the entire war rooting out nuns and priests in foreign lands, far from the seat of power, a virtual unknown in Berlin. Now he was close to the throne, and he bathed in the reflected power. He almost giggled out loud when he thought about his escape plans, too.
 

I will either be a hero and save the Reich, or if that fails, be across the American lines before these poor fools know what hit them. Perhaps—perhaps I can tell the Americans about Operation Gambit—too late to help, but it ought to be worth something to them.

Hettstedt tucked that thought safely away. He could not let it interfere with what he had to do now, but just knowing it was there was comforting.

“Popitz!” he bellowed, recalling the Gestapo agent who was waiting for him. “Come in here now!”
 

Meister
Popitz sat back in the upholstered chair opposite Hettstedt's desk and breathed a deep sigh as he dug out a notebook from his raincoat pocket. Popitz was a police officer, and had been one for ten years before the Gestapo took over the criminal police force. He had been following suspects and standing in shadows for years, and he hadn’t minded a bit sitting in this warm office and waiting for Hettstedt to get to him.

“Yes, what is so important?” snapped Hettstedt.

“Well sir, I had been on diplomatic surveillance duty before you pulled me in for this investigation.” He paused as he flipped through his small tattered notebook.
 

“And…?”

“And I ended up watching a…an Elsa Klein,” he said as he found the name in his book, “I had evenings, from the hospital, to her apartment, and so on. Nothing much ever to report.” Popitz stopped speaking and seemed to be lost in thought. Hettstedt was irritated and about to demand that he get to the point.

“That’s what bothered me.”

Hettstedt froze as he realized Popitz could have information that might be important. “Go on,” he said solicitously, “what bothered you?”

“Well,” Popitz replied as he wetted his finger to turn the page in his notebook, “I had been watching a Senor Antonio Joaquim Gonsaldes, last senior Portuguese diplomat in Berlin. Right up to 13 March, after which I was pulled into this detail. He had broken his arm in a fall in the street, and was treated at St. Ludwig’s Hospital. He kept going back there, more times than necessary, but I thought, he’s an old man, maybe it bothers him. Anyway, walking is a damn sight better than standing still in the cold, I’ll tell you that.”

“You have a very difficult job,” Hettstedt said flatteringly.

Popitz just shrugged a policeman’s shrug. “So I followed him to the hospital that last day. It was very strange. He left with two young girls. Now I tell you, I’ve seen a lot of old men take a fancy to little girls…”

“What girls?” Hettstedt demanded.

“Well, I don’t know. I was pulled off the detail. He had seen a nurse, Sister Anneliese, at the hospital each time he went. And, he also saw Elsa Klein a few times.” Popitz smiled slyly. He was enjoying drawing this out and teasing Hettstedt.

“Why didn’t you put this in your report?”

“Well, I was ordered to record everything Elsa Klein did and everyone she saw during my shift. And so I did.”

Hettstedt fumed with impatience, but forced himself to be calm. “Are you telling me he never returned to the hospital?”

“Not once. The day I saw him bring back the two girls was the last time he set foot in the place. I figured he got what he wanted and didn’t need to go back.” Popitz raised his eyebrows and smiled knowingly at Hettstedt.
 

“So why are you bothering me with a dirty old man?”

“Well, I went back on diplomatic surveillance just yesterday. Went back to watching Senor Gonsaldes. I expected to see those two girls. I didn’t. They’re gone. I checked with the other fellows on duty, and they said the girls left that same day. Went to the railroad station with his housekeeper and assistant. So I asked myself, why would an old man bring two girls home from the hospital and then not even spend the night with them?”

 
“Yes, why?”

“Well, I checked their destination. Hamburg. Boarded a Portuguese freighter out of Hamburg harbor. Girls had valid Portuguese passports, all in order.”

“So, it’s odd, but what of it?”

“Well, the only problem is, I ran a check on those girls. Got the files out of storage this morning. The names on those passports were of two Portuguese female nationals who died in 1941.”