Liliana Flores had returned to her room and locked the door. The night nurse had no idea if the two men threatening her employer were really who they said they were. What would the police want with Valentina Suarez, and why would they break into the house to interview her? Hard as she tried, she couldn’t remove Suarez’s piercing scream from her thoughts. Whatever was happening, it didn’t feel right. She leaned across her bedside table and picked up the internal phone. She dialled the front guardhouse and Javier answered after just one ring.
Vargas reached for his iPhone and scrolled through the photos until he found the black-and-white image of a young, vibrant Eva Braun who was showing off her new wedding ring to the camera. It was almost unbelievable that the old woman sitting in the wheelchair in front of him was the same person. He held the mobile with the frozen image close to her face. She turned her head away and refused to acknowledge it.
“Nice photo, Eva. You look so happy there. I guess, despite all the subterfuge, it was the one thing you couldn’t bear to give up. But why the need to pretend you were—”
The bedroom door flew open and Javier Hernández burst in, his AK47 locked and loaded. He pointed it directly at Hembury, who was only a few feet away from him. “Place your hands in the air and don’t move. Señora Suarez, are you okay? Have these men hurt you?”
Vargas was itching to make a move for his Beretta, but knew the guard could kill Hembury before he even had a chance to draw it.
Eva Braun summoned all her inner strength to push down on the armrests of her chair to raise herself into a standing position. As she digested the sudden turn of events, her mouth formed a malevolent grin. “Shoot them, Javier. They came here to rob and kill me.”
Hernández was just a security guard, not a trained killer, so for a brief moment he was stunned by Braun’s command. His eyeline darted from Vargas to his employer. That was all the time Hembury needed to act. He spun on the spot and took off like a guided missile. His left foot slammed into the right arm of the guard, who instinctively started firing his weapon as he fell backwards. The bullets sprayed into the ceiling and caught an ornate chandelier, which sent splinters of crystal across the room. Hernández rolled sideways and readjusted the AK47, aiming it directly at Hembury, who was also on the floor. A single gunshot rang out and struck the guard just above his right eye. His body slumped to the side, and the rifle slipped from his grasp, silently falling onto the thick-pile carpet.
Hembury glanced over his right shoulder and saw Vargas crouched in a firing pose, the Beretta clenched in his right hand. As he stood, Hembury gave a nod of thanks to his fellow detective, walked over to the body of the slain guard and picked up the AK47. Vargas re-holstered his pistol and turned to Braun, who was now sitting back in her wheelchair. He perched himself on the bed next to her.
“Far too much blood has been spilt protecting your family secrets. It’s time to talk.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Eva Braun simply sat and listened as Vargas chronicled the information he had discovered in Box 1321. A few times, she closed her eyes and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He showed her a number of photographs on his mobile, including her own forged death certificate. He really struck gold when he referenced the 8mm film of her son’s fifth birthday party. Having remained silent for a long period, she finally sparked back into life.
“I filmed most of that and edited it myself. You know, I was a trained photographer. That’s how I met the Führer …” she paused for a moment and then continued “… my husband. I was just seventeen and working as an assistant to Heinrich Hoffman, the Führer’s personal photographer. We started seeing each other secretly soon after that but, of course, our relationship had to be kept secret from the German people.”
Hembury kept solid eye contact with Braun as he reached for his iPhone and hit the video recording function. He glanced furtively down at the screen for a brief moment to check the framing. He nodded to Vargas, who could sense she was relishing the chance to finally tell her story. It was as if, for the first time in her life, the floodgates were well and truly open.
“Martin planned everything. He was a true genius. He first identified Argentina as a possible future base in 1943 and he invested heavily in creating foundations for us to live here in safety and comfort. He planned our suicides and the escape from Berlin.”
She paused for a few seconds and stared at the two detectives as if she were searching for their approval. Hembury was frustrated as he couldn’t understand Spanish, but he knew he was witnessing a sensational confession.
Vargas broke the silence. “Tell me about the Franklin Corporation.”
Braun was only too happy to continue with her story. “Martin shipped over five hundred million dollars’ worth of gold, as well as a priceless collection of art. He and the Führer talked constantly of building a new empire, a Fourth Reich. He realised the way forward was to create the biggest pharmaceutical company in the world, rather than a physical army. Martin recognised the outcome of the war meant the United States would inevitably become the most powerful country in the world, and that’s when he hatched his plan. Franklin Pharmaceuticals would be the perfect vehicle to regain power through legitimate means. A respected, credible corporation that would originate in Argentina and then go on to conquer America. It would also spawn a new Führer for the twenty-first century – a man, with Hitler’s blood running through his veins, who would become the most powerful leader of the Western world. Of course, he would have to be born in America, which is why my son, Richard, set up home in California before having a child.”
She stopped again, as if the recollection of events was literally draining her strength away.
Vargas changed the line of questioning. “But why did you fake your own death for a second time?”
She came back to life and laughed at this notion. “Martin convinced me it would be far safer for my grandson’s life and future career if he genuinely believed that both I and his grandfather were dead. If I were ever exposed, it would destroy everything. Far better for everyone that I was dead. That way the child would never be tempted to travel here to see me and that part of his life would be closed forever. From the day he was born, John was groomed by Richard and Martin to fulfil his destiny and become the most powerful leader in the world.”
“So that’s why you razed El Blondi to the ground and created Valentina Suarez?”
“I didn’t want to ever leave here because my life with my husband had been truly special. I grew to love this place, but I had to make a clean break and start again with a new home and a new identity. It’s been incredibly painful watching John’s progress, realising he doesn’t even know I exist. I see him on the news channels nearly every day at the moment. He’s only a few months away from fulfilling his destiny.” Once again, she stopped and thought for a few seconds. “What are you planning to do with this information?”
Vargas didn’t reply.
“You realise no one will believe you. My son is one of the most powerful and respected men in the United States. He will destroy you and your bullshit story. You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
Vargas had heard enough and rose from the bed. “Actually, I know exactly who I’m dealing with, Frau Braun.”
Vargas and Hembury left through the front, now unguarded, entrance and walked around to the rear of the house where they’d left their hire car. On the way back to the hotel, Vargas gave Hembury a literal translation of the Braun interview, including the veiled threat at the end.
“Nic, she is a total piece of work. Every history book in the world says she committed suicide in 1945 and yet here we are, over sixty-five years later, having our lives threatened by her. Do you think we might face problems with the authorities here over the shooting of the guard?”
“I can’t imagine she would let the police anywhere near that place. I suspect our friend Javier will never be heard of again.”
Javier’s dead body was lying in the corner of the room when Nurse Flores returned. She tried somehow to ignore its presence while she slowly moved Eva Braun in her wheelchair into the spare room. She was shaking with fear but was far too scared to ask her employer any questions
“Señora Suarez, you must be extremely tired. You need to sleep and recover your strength.”
Braun was clearly exhausted, but she knew she had one more task to carry out before she could rest.
“Liliana, you must promise me you will never speak of this incident to anyone outside this house. Everything will be taken care of in the next few hours. I will ensure you receive a generous bonus this month.”
The night nurse nodded. “Of course, Señora. You know you can rely on my discretion and loyalty. Do you require anything else from me?”
“Yes, I need you to fetch my mobile phone from my dressing table.”