‘There it is,’ said Schneider, peering through the glass of the bridge, ‘Kristiansand.’
Mueller joined the captain and followed his gaze. The port buildings loomed out of the mist and as the captain eased his ship into the quay, the crew busied themselves preparing to dock. The past sixteen hours had been relatively incident free for the cargo ship, though Captain Schneider had been somewhat surprised when they were joined by a German gunboat to escort them across the Skagerrak strait. When the engines finally fell silent,
Mueller approached him.
‘Captain, you have done your job well so far,’ he said. ‘This is where we part company, however, there is one more task required of you. You will now arrange to unload the three train carriages you picked up in Konigsberg and oversee their connection to an engine.’
‘Have you arranged one?’ asked Schneider.
‘If everything has gone to plan, there will be one waiting for us,’ said Mueller.
Schneider nodded quietly. He was very tired after the long crossing but a few more hours were well worth it to be rid of this man.
‘I will see to it myself,’ he said.
Over the next hour the cargo was rearranged to access the carriages in the hold until finally a dockside tractor pulled them out onto the quay. The squad of soldiers formed a protective perimeter around the carriages and waited until they saw a locomotive steam slowly through the dock on the cargo rails. When it came to a stop Schneider spoke to the driver, but after a few minutes it was obvious that something wasn’t right. The argument increased in volume until finally Mueller marched over in frustration.
‘What is the hold-up?’ he asked.
The driver removed his hat and wrung it in his hands in fear, obviously affected by the SS uniform.
‘There is a problem,’ said Schneider. ‘The carriages carrying your cargo seem to have originated somewhere in Russia.’
‘And why is that any of his business?’ asked Mueller menacingly.
‘Because the gauge of the tracks is different,’ said Schneider. ‘Your carriages won’t fit on the rails.’
Mueller didn’t answer, but his mind raced furiously. This was an unforeseen problem, but nothing that couldn’t be overcome.
‘Are there other carriages available?’
‘There are some in that far shed, but they are already loaded with winter clothing for our troops on the west coast and are waiting to be transported sometime tomorrow.’
‘Then that is the answer to our problem,’ said Mueller. ‘Arrange for them to be emptied immediately and transfer our cargo.’
‘We do not have authorisation to do that,’ said Schneider. ‘We will need permission.’
‘From who?’ asked Mueller.
‘The dock master.’
‘And where will I find him?’
The train driver pointed at a nearby building.
‘Good,’ said Mueller. ‘You start emptying those carriages, I will seek the necessary permissions.’ He walked across the dockside and Schneider noticed that as he did, his right hand subtly unclipped the strap over the handgrip of his Luger.
‘Come,’ said Schneider to the driver, ‘it is no business of ours.’ He called his crew from the ship and walked over to start emptying the carriages. Twenty minutes later they were joined by Mueller.
‘Is everything in order?’ asked Schneider, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow.
‘It is,’ said Mueller. ‘The dock master was very understanding. Now, how long will this take?’
‘A couple of hours to unload the rest of the cases,’ said Schneider, ‘and the same to transfer the other cargo across.’
‘How do you know that?’ asked Mueller, suddenly suspicious, ‘I thought you didn’t know what the cargo was?’
‘I don’t,’ said Schneider, ‘though the manifest says twenty seven crates. All we need to do is pull these carriages alongside the others, throw some planks between the two and with a bit of effort, we should be able to push the crates across. Unless, of course, they are full of gold.’
Mueller stared at him in silence.
‘I was… joking,’ said Schneider. ‘I didn’t mean…’
‘Never mind what they contain,’ snarled Mueller, ‘you just get them loaded. I want to be out of here by dawn.’
Schneider was lying on top of his bed in his cabin when the first hints of sun struggled to find their way through the morning mist. He was still fully dressed and had virtually collapsed onto his bed in exhaustion, having been awake for almost forty-eight hours. The cargo had been transferred into the local carriages and as there was no sign of Mueller, Schneider had staggered back to his cabin on board his ship to catch up on his sleep. As he turned on his bunk he realised there was an overwhelming smell of smoke. His eyes flew open and he saw the figure of Mueller sitting at his bedside holding a cigarette in one hand and his Luger in the other.
‘Ah, you are awake,’ said Mueller.
Schneider sat up quickly, fully aware that Mueller must have blown his cigarette smoke into his face while he slept.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Schneider.
‘Looking after the Führer’s interests,’ said Mueller.
‘The cargo is loaded,’ said Schneider. ‘What more do you want of me?’
‘One thing,’ said Mueller. ‘Your silence.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It is quite simple, captain,’ said Mueller. ‘Our cargo and destination is top secret. Only the highest echelons of the High Command know the purpose of this expedition, and that is how it must stay.’
‘But I am no threat to that situation,’ said Schneider. ‘There is no record of where this ship sailed after leaving Warnemunde. In addition, I have no idea what is in those cases or indeed where you are going.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Of course,’ said Schneider.
Mueller grimaced.
‘That is unfortunate,’ said Mueller. ‘You see, captain, while you were ensuring a safe crossing from Germany, I took the opportunity to inspect your cargo, and what do you think I found?’
Schneider’s face turned pale.
‘I have no idea,’ he said.
‘I found that somebody on this ship is being less than honest.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think that somebody in your crew has entered at least one of those carriages and interfered with part of the cargo.’
‘Impossible,’ said Schneider.
‘Let me make this simple,’ said Mueller. ‘I know that those carriages were handed over intact in Konigsberg by a trusted member of the Wehrmacht. In Warnemunde I took over the responsibility of the security of the cargo, so I know nobody has entered the carriages since then. That means that the theft occurred sometime between Konigsberg and Warnemunde, a time when you were responsible for the security of the cargo.’
‘But there is no way anyone could have opened those locks,’ said Schneider, with beads of sweat appearing on his brow. ‘I have the only keys and they are in the safe, nobody else has access.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Mueller, ‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’ He lifted his Luger and cocked it before aiming it at Schneider.
‘Wait,’ said Schneider, ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Captain,’ said Mueller, ‘while you were moving the cargo down on the dock, I had the ship searched. On the bridge we found this hidden in the back of a chart drawer.’ He held out a small statuette, shining in the harsh light of the cabin.
‘I have never seen that before,’ said Schneider.
‘It is part of the cargo from the first carriage,’ said Mueller.
‘How do you know that?’
‘German efficiency,’ said Mueller. ‘Every single thing in that cargo has been listed here.’ He pulled out a notebook from his pocket. ‘Item number 127, a small amber statuette three inches tall.’
‘I have no idea how it got on the bridge,’ said Schneider. ‘Whoever broke into the carriages must have hidden it there to frame me.’
‘Who said anyone broke in?’ asked Mueller.
‘But you said the statuette came from the first carriage,’ stuttered Schneider.
‘I never said there had been a break-in,’ said Mueller. ‘In fact, there is no evidence of any damage whatsoever. Whoever took this statuette must have simply opened the padlock and walked straight in.’
‘That’s impossible,’ said Schneider, ‘I have the only keys.’ He stopped suddenly, realising he had just signed his own death warrant.
‘Exactly,’ said Mueller, and before Schneider could defend himself, he shot him twice in the chest.
Mueller stood up and stood over the captain’s shaking body.
‘I hate thieves,’ he said, and fired one more shot into the captain’s head before leaving the cabin and returning to shore.
Back on the dock, the train was ready to leave, bathed in clouds of scalding steam. The three carriages containing the transferred cargo were sandwiched between the engine and a passenger carriage containing Mueller’s men. The ship’s crew were lined up against a wall, covered by two soldiers carrying machine pistols. Mueller walked over.
‘Who is second in command of that ship?’ he asked.
‘Me, sir,’ said a young man.
‘Come with me,’ said Mueller, and led him to one side. ‘What is your name?’
‘Wagner, sir,’ said the young man nervously.
‘I will keep this simple,’ said Mueller. ‘Your captain was a traitor and has been executed. That makes you the new captain. Now, I have reason to suspect that the rest of the crew may be involved in his crimes. What do you have to say about this?’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about, sir,’ said the man, obviously terrified.
Mueller drew his Luger and placed it under the jaw of the man.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, staring into the man’s eyes.
‘Absolutely,’ said the man, his voice barely a whisper.
Mueller waited a few moments before speaking.
‘OK, Wagner, I think you may be telling the truth. However, there are assurances I need from you.’
The man nodded.
‘First of all, you never came here, you have never been here and will never come here again. Is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ said Wagner.
‘Secondly, if I allow you to live, you and your crew will sail this ship back out into the strait and scuttle her.’
‘But…’
‘You will scuttle your ship, captain,’ said Mueller, ‘and will claim it was sunk by an allied bomber. The details are irrelevant, but make it realistic. You can make your escape via the lifeboats and if you are successful, you will probably live to a ripe old age. However, if you do not carry out my orders and this ship ever docks in any port after this one, we will know about it and you will be executed as a traitor. Is that clear?’
The man nodded but stayed silent.
‘Good,’ said Mueller and holstered his gun.
‘Now, Captain Wagner, I have to get going. Do not forget your orders on pain of death. The one thing I do want you to forget, however, is the fact that you ever met me or my men. Do you think you could do that?’
Wagner nodded again.
‘Good,’ said Mueller. ‘Now go before I change my mind.’
After watching the crew board the ship, Mueller walked to the train and spoke to the driver.
‘What is your name?’ he asked.
‘Jonas,’ came the reply.
‘Well, Jonas, are we ready?’
‘We are.’
‘Good, then let’s get out of here.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Do you know where Bergen is?’
‘On the west coast.’
‘Well, that’s our destination. Get us there as fast as you can.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Jonas, and as soon as Mueller had climbed aboard the passenger carriage to join his men, Jonas eased the valve to send steam to the pistons, easing the train out of the loading bay. Back in the carriage, Mueller found a seat and as he sat back he felt a deep satisfaction knowing that, though he still had to travel almost 500 miles through Norway, the first part of his journey was almost over.