Spandau Phoenix (54 page)

The open Porsche rocketed along the blacked-out highway, half-sliding around curves made deadly by a sudden winter shower.

Heydrich drove stonefaced despite the brittle drops that stung his skin and eyes. The frigid wind would have driven any normal man to groan in pain, but the young Obergruppenfiihrer prided himself on his ability to control his human weaknesses. The fact that he was quite mad aided him considerably in this task.

Unlike most of Hitler's chieftains, Heydrich seemed the incarnation of the mythical Aryan superman. Tall and blond, blue-eyed, spare and muscular of frame,.he carried himself with the self-assurance of a crown prince. A jarring amalgam of opposites, Heydrich put every man he met off balance. A world-class fencer, he had been asked to join the German Olympic team, yet tales of his homosexual conquests were whispered in SS

barracks throughout the Reich.

He was an accomplished violinist who not only brought tears to the eyes of his audiences, but sometimes cried himself during particularly beautiful passages. Yet his sadistic rampages through Eastern Europe would eventually cause Czech partisans to christen him the "Butcher of Prague," and British intelligence to order his assassination. And the most telling paradox of all: Reinhard Heydrichthe man who had vowed to "eliminate the strain" of Jewry from the world-had Jewish blood flowing through his veins.

At the outer gate of Obersalzburg, the SS guards eyed the approaching Porsche with suspicion. When they recognized its driver, however, they snapped to attention and waved Heydrich through. The sentries at the inner gate displayed the same deference, and he soon reached the summit of the mountain. The Berghof appeared to be under siege.

Most of the High Command had arrived during the afternoon; long black staff cars overflowed the parking lot and encircled the rear of the house. Heydrich picked a path through the cars, made his way around to the front of the house, and opened the door without knocking.

An SS sergeant of the Liebstandarte Adolf Hitler had been posted in the entry hall to meet him. After a curt salute, the sergeant whisked Heydrich up the stairs to the bedrooms and indicated the door he wished the SD chief to enter.

"You're to wait here, Herr Obergruppenftihrer. By order of the Fuhrer."

Heydrich looked mystified- "Am I not to attend the conference downstairs?"

"Nein, Herr Obergruppenflihrer. Reichleiter Borrnann instructed me to have you meet the Fuhrer in the teahouse, but I just received word that he won't have time for the walk."

"We could drive," Heydrich suggested.

"The Fuhrer never drives to the teahouse."

The sergeant seemed to think this explanation sufficient.

Heydrich dismissed him and reached for the bedroom door handle, then paused as another door opened farther down the hall. A blond woman leaned furtively out; Heydrich registered an ample bosom beneath a rather plain face before she ducked back inside. Only after entering the small bedroom designated for his meeting with the Fuhrer did he realize that the woman he had just seen must be Eva Braun. With an extreme sense of discomfort Heydrich put the incident out of his mind.

The Fuhrer in a carnal entanglement with a

peasant -girl? Preposterous!

Out of habit Heydrich surveyed the Berghof grounds from the small bedroom window. He saw SS guards and dogs silhouetted against the snow at regular intervals all over the compound. Nodding with satisfaction, he sat stiffly on the edge of a narrow bed. An hour,passed. When he next heard footsteps in the hall, he knew they belonged to the Fuhrer.

Standing deliberately, he straightened his silver-bordered collar and faced the door. As it opened, he cried, "Heil Hitler!" and gave a whip-crack Nazi salute.

Adolf Hitler stood blinking in the doorway. He looked like a man suddenly pulled into a quiet alcove from a beer hall where a violent brawl was in progress. "Heydrich," he mumbled.

"My Fuhrer."

"We haven't much time. I have to get back to my generals.

They've taken a break for food." With sudden ffitler s@ into the room and walked to the window. "Food!" he cried, pounding his right fist into his palm. "They think I am a fool, Heydrich! Adolf Hitler!

My God, if I had listened to my generals we would never even have crossed into the Rhineland. And now that we stand ready to begin the greatest land invasion the world has ever seen, they counsel me to be cautious!" Hitler whirled, evangelical fire burning in his eyes.

"Would caution have won us Poland, Heydrich?"

"No, my Fuhrer!"

"Would it have won us France?"

"No!"

"Then how can it win us Russia?" Spittle flew from Hitler's quivering lips.

"It cannot, my Fuhrer!"

"Exactly! You should hear them ... Halder, Jodl, even Guderian's reports sound like the whining of an old woman.

They speak as if we have allies. We have none! For hours the fools have gone dyer and over the North African situation.

The situation is clear! On January third the British captured thirty-eight thousand lwian soldiers at Sidi Barram. Did you know that?

That's more prisoners than the British had soldiers!"

"The Italians are swine," Heydrich declared, watching Mtler wind up, again.

"What does Africa matter, I ask you? All my generals proudly display Mein Kampf on their mantelpieces. I don't believe one of the idiots has read it! Russia is the keY to el erything! When Russia falls, Japan will be free to attack the United States. And with Roosevelt's

attention turned there, Churchill will be forced to sue for peace. it's so simple a child could see it."

Hitler's left eye twitched angrily, "Perhaps _ I should place my armies under the command of the Hitler Youth!"

Heydrich said nothing to this remarkable suggestion. Hitler smoothed his unruly forelock, then clasped his hands behind him and said, "Do you know what my Prussian peacocks are afraid of."

Heydrich swallowed. "England, my Fuhrer?"

c my own words back at me as if I "Pre isely! They throw did not write them myself. 'Germany should never again become embroiled in a twofront war. Never will I fight a twofront war.' Enough! England lies prostrate beneath our bombs, yet my sniveling generals call her a western front. A front! When we turn east, Heydrich, the cowards will learn what a front truly is!"

Heydrich suppressed a sadistic grin.

Hitler squared his shoulders. "Directive Twenty-one commands that all preparations for Plan Barbarossa be completed by May fifteenth of this year. Do you know why?"

"So that we may defeat the communists before winter sets in?"

"Exactly. And why this year, Heydrich? Because Stalin is arming Russia even faster than I am arming Germany! The purge of 'thirty-seven slowed him down considerably, yes, but he has a new program in place-a total reorganizationr will be too late! All that we have If we wait another yea it accomplished will be dust! Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, my Fuhrer."

"I believe you do. And that is why you are here." Hitler carefully read his watch, holding it close to his face because of his poor vision.

"I have no intention of fighting on two fronts, Heydrich.

But can I trust my spineless generals with my plans?" He waved his hand impatiently. "My brilliant generals. imbeciles, every one.

England doesn't want warNo matter what your agents tell you, Heydrich, I know.

Withstanding aerial bombardment is one thing-fighting a land war is another. The English people will do almost anything to keep from sending their sons to die at another Somme or Ypres. Believe me, Heydrich, I was there-No, the only obstacle to an Aryan peace is Winston Churchill.

Churchill and his warmongering cronies! Do you agree?"

"Absolutely, my Fuhrer."

"Tell me," Hitler said in a confiding tone, "what do you think.of our chances of making peace with the British?"

Heydrich tried to guess which answer Hitler wanted today.

The Fuhrer did not tolerate equivocation; it had to be one absolute or the other. "As things now stand," he ventured carefully, "we have no chance whatsoever."

Hitler's eyes sparkled. "You seem certain. Yet I suspect that some of your superiors might disagree with you."

Heydrich f@it his chest tighten.

Hitler's voice cut like a blade. "What do you know, Herr Obergruppenfiihrer, of attempts by my officers to make clandestine contact with the British?4' Heydrich felt the tingle of opportunity in his palms. "May I speak frankly, my Fuhrer?"

"You had better!"

"My Fuhrer, so far, despite exhaustive efforts, I have not uncovered any proof of treason around you. However, I am aware of efforts on the part of certain individuals to make clandestine contact with British citizens in various neutral countries. I've taken the liberty of compiling dossiers on the activities of each for your review."

Hitler frowned disdainfully. "The Haushofers, for instance? Karl and Albrecht?"

"Yes," said Heydrich, surprised by Hitler's knowledge.

"You know of their communications with Hess.

Heydrich nodded warily.

"Goring?"

"Surely you don't suspect the Reichsmarschall!"

Hitler dismissed his shock with a wave of the hand. "Who knows?

The air war over the Channel came close to breaking him. Goring hasn't the stamina for wars of attrition. He was trained for aerial dog-fighting-nothing else. But what of my question? How do you rate the chances of gaining peace by clandestine means?"

Heydrich licked his thin lips. "As long as Churchill rules in London, my Fuhrer, England will fight us."

Hitler nodded. "And the result?"

"England will be crushed."

"No," Hitler said softly. "There will be no war with England."

Heydrich waited for some evidence to back up this mistic assertion.

"There will be no war with England, because soon Winston Churchill will no longer sit at the head of the British government."

Heydrich's pulse quickened.

"Does that statement surprise you, Heydrich? t shouldn't.

Because you are the man who is going to ensure that my prediction becomes fact."

it took all of Heydrich's self-control to hold his facial muscles in check. Renwve Churchillfrom the government? It was too fantastic ...

"Let me ask you another question, Herr Obergruppenftihrer. You consider yourself a good judge of men. What do you think of the Duke of Windsor?' Heydrich chose his words carefully. "As you know, my Fuhrer, I handled security on the occasion when the duke secretly met with Reichminister Hess in Lisbon. During my limited time with the duke, I developed an impression of a weak, self-centered man.

He-behaved like a spoiled child.

Having voluntarily relinquished the throne of England, he would like nothing better than to sit upon it again, if only so that his American wife can be called 'Her Royal Highness.' Windsor imagines that he would do anything to anain this end, when in fact he would probably do everything short of what is required."

Hitler smiled. "You are indeed a good judge of men. But none of that matters in the slightest. It is the royal blood that matters, Heydrich-The blood. The English pretend to abhor my racial policies, they revile me at every turn. Yet in the final analysis they revere the blood just as we do!" Hitler tugged anxiously at his forelock.

"How would you rate Windsor as a friend to Germany?"

"There can be no doubt of his sympathies, my Fuhrer.

From an intdllectual standpoint, he s the @ost right-thinking Englishman in the Empire. His actions in France proved that.

Knowingly or not, he accelerated our invasion timetable by at least a week. But may I ask, my Fuhrer, why this is relevant? The English constitution forbids an abdicated king from ever resuming the throne, even should he wish

to. "Don't worry about the English constitution!" Hitler

snapped contemptuously. "If the English people recalled Windsor, would he accept?"

"Undoubtedly. He said as much to Hess in Lisbon."

"Well, the people are going to recall him, Heydrich. And soon."

Heydrich blinked.

"If King George were to die suddenly," Hitler postulated, "what would happen? There are two possibilities. Either his eldest daughter, Elizabeth, would assume the throne-a highly dubious prospect, considering that England is engaged in a life-and-death struggle@r the English people would remember the Duke of Windsor, their once-adored Prince of Wales and uncrowned king, who now wastes his not-inconsiderable gifts as crown governor of the Bahamas.

Which alternative do you think they would choose, Heydrich? Which would you choose? An empty-headed child, or the strong hand of a man trained to rule? How important will Windsor's romantic follies seem in the face of England's greatest peril?"

Heydrich shifted uncomfortably. "I ... I'm not sure the English view these things as we do, my Fuhrer."

"Rubbish! And what does it matter? Windsor would only be the window dressing! The real power of England is in Downing Street! That is where the change must be made!"