It was very late as Peter returned to his flat and climbed the stairs. He stopped near his door when he saw a very drunk Ewan Butler on the floor drinking Macallan single malt from the bottle.
“Ewan, what are you doing here?”
“Guten Abend, Herr Faye. How was your evening?”
“It was fine, Ewan.”
“You know Sir Richard Boord of the SOE in London?” Ewan asked.
“No, Ewan.”
“Joanna tried to reach him for me. He’s my boss. He’s a nice chap, but he’s out of commission. He can’t be reached.”
“I’m rather tired, Ewan.”
“Look, old chap, I need your help,” Ewan said in a pleading tone. “I need you to put in a word for me with the angry rabbit. I need time off. I can’t do this damn job anymore. Mallet’s got me working evenings and weekends.”
“I don’t understand, you’re SOE. Why are you working for Mallet?” Peter asked.
Ewan took a swig from the whisky bottle.
“Want some whisky, Peter?”
“It’s late, Ewan.”
“The angry rabbit won’t take no for an answer. I saw your background report on Dr Kramer, Peter. Good work, solid intelligence.”
“Tennant requested it some time ago.”
“You know Kramer’s got a deposit box at the Enskilda Bank for those Bosch shares of his.”
“Bosch shares?”
“Yeah, the bastard is holding them for his boss Schellenberg, until the deal is done.”
“What’s the deal, Ewan?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Peter. The Royals have been buying up German assets since before the war.”
“Swedish Royals?”
“Not just the Swedes, Peter, our own British royal family. Everyone is buying up German assets, but Marcus Wallenberg thinks we can get a better deal if we delay. Time is in our favour.”
Ewan drank some whisky from the bottle.
“Festina lente,” he said, grinning at Peter, “make haste slowly.”
“What are we giving them?” Peter asked.
Ewan looked surprised by this innocent question.
“We can’t give the losers in this war the crown jewels, now can we? We’re giving them table scraps, that’s all, Peter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Free passage to Sweden and immunity from prosecution. That’s it.”
“What do we get in exchange?”
“Schelli’s secret SD files and a load of German overseas assets, shares in Bosch, I.G. Farben, Kruppe, Rheinmetall, AEG, Siemens-Shuckert and others.”
“This is insane, Ewan. Schellenberg and Himmler are bloody war criminals. They need to be tried in a court of justice.”
“Don’t I know it?”
“Have you requested leave, Ewan?”
“Course, I have.”
“Well, what does Mallet say?” Peter asked.
“He won’t hear of it. He says that he needs me in Stockholm. I’m his joker, his pitiful buffoon to laugh at, and my German is better than his.”
“What can I do for you, Ewan?”
“You are SIS. Tell your boss you want to get your old friend Ewan out of Stockholm on the next flight. Say anything you like. Tell him I’m a security risk. I don’t care. I have told the angry rabbit that I don’t like meeting with Nazi swine, but he won’t let me go.”
“Come in, Ewan. You can sleep it off on the couch.”
Peter helped Ewan to his feet, and they staggered into the flat.
It was early as Karl-Heinz arrived at the German Press office. He expected to see his colleagues hard at work, but the office was almost empty except for his secretary, Nadja.
“Guten Morgen, Nadja. Where is everyone?”
Nadja sniffed and wiped a tear away. Heinrich, Fritz and Helmut were missing from their desks.
“What happened, Nadja?”
“The Gestapo came for them yesterday, sir.”
“The Gestapo?”
“They’re going to make an example of them, maybe send them to the Russian front.”
“I’m so sorry, my dear, all because of that damn photograph. What did that husband of yours have to say?”
“He’s leaving me,” Nadja said, “he says I’m destroying his career. He says that I’m lucky not to have been arrested.”
“He may be right, Nadja. We must be very careful.”
“There’s that man in your office again, sir.”
Karl-Heinz frowned and walked through the empty room to his office to find Herr Golcher slumped in a chair opposite his desk.
“Hello, sir, I heard you lost your position.”
“It’s terrible, Herr Doktor. The Gestapo has taken over my office. We have no idea when we’ll return to work.”
“Don’t worry, your staff will soon be reinstated. I just came back from Berlin. I’ve been officially transferred to SD Ausland under Brigadeführer Schellenberg.”
“That’s very good news,” Golcher exclaimed.
“As you can see, we’ve been visited by the Gestapo too. My colleagues Heinrich, Fritz and Helmut were arrested.”
“I saw the picture in the paper. You’re lucky not to have been arrested yourself.”
“Not lucky, Herr Golcher,” Karl-Heinz said with a confident smile. “I think a better word would be ‘untouchable’. No one is going to arrest me. I’m Himmler’s special representative in Sweden.”
Nadja arrived with the coffee tray. She poured coffee for the two men and left.
“Take heart, Herr Golcher, everything will return to normal shortly.”
“Thank you, Dr Kramer.”
“You remember that you asked me what the term ‘Egmont’ meant the other day?”
“Ja, I remember the term.”
“In Berlin, I learned that Egmont refers to top-secret SD reports that are compiled from SS battle assessments coming from the front. With the war going so badly,” Karl-Heinz searched for the right words, “these reports can be a bit depressing at times.”
“So why is the Gestapo so interested in these reports?”
“The Gestapo is convinced the Egmont documents are defeatist propaganda,” Karl-Heinz said, “and Schellenberg is the man responsible for circulating them. So they are going to use them to bring him down.”
Golcher nodded uncertainly.
“By the way, I have requested,“ Karl-Heinz said, “that you be put in charge of the SD Ausland station here in Stockholm.”
“Thank you, Dr Kramer, thank you. You’re very kind,” Golcher said gratefully.
“Now, I hope you will excuse me, but I have other things that require my attention.”