The fog was still thick as smoke, and he wished that it would stay. He did not want to be diving down on that submarine tomorrow. He said goodbye to Sarah, with promises to be back in a week: he gave her the Bonanza’s call-sign, so she could radio-telephone him to find out exactly when he was returning. He was outside the Dive Shop when it opened.
He bought another new wetsuit to replace the one torn by barnacles, three tank-contents gauges, another harness and tank, another box of batteries for the underwater torches. When he wrote out the cheque he was very glad indeed that Nathan had come to the party. He drove back to his house, gave Jakob some money for food and gave him some chores to do around the garden, raking the sand and tidying up. He retrieved his notes from under the bed. He drove down to the wharf. The fog was still thick and all lights in the harbour were on. Oh God, he did not want to go to sea.
His humour was not improved by Tucker bursting up onto the bridge wide-eyed: ‘What about this 435?’
McQuade was in no mood for Tucker. ‘Forget 435! It’ll never happen!’
Tucker cried: ‘It’s happening! The South Africans say they’re prepared to withdraw their troops from Angola! They could all be back across the river in a few days!’
McQuade stared at him. ‘South African troops are withdrawing from the war?’ he said incredulously.
‘Not yet but almost!’ Tucker cried. ‘To show they mean peace! Where’ve you been that you haven’t heard?!’ He waved his arm: ‘Terrible things have been happening! What’s going to happen to our housekeeping when SWAPO takes over everything?!’
McQuade stared at him. He said slowly, ‘Has Cuba agreed to withdraw her troops from Africa?’
‘Yes!’ Tucker cried. ‘And Angola’s agreed! All they’ve got to organize now is how long it takes to get the troops out! South Africa’s just throwing us to the wolves! And then what’s going to happen to our housekeeping …?’
‘ELSIE!’ McQuade roared.
Elsie came bursting up onto the bridge in his apron. ‘Yes?’
‘What’s this about 435 and South African troops being poised to withdraw from Angola?’
Elsie slumped his shoulders and rolled his liquid eyes. ‘Oh, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, darling! Yes, Cuba’s made a dramatic announcement that they’re prepared to withdraw their troops – over a period of time – provided South Africa withdraws immediately and implements 435 and provided South Africa and the US stops supporting UNITA. And so there’s international jubilation, et cetera. But we’ve had cliff-hangers like this before, haven’t we? Cuba always changes its mind – moves the goal posts. And anyway the South Africans are demanding the impossible – withdrawal of all those Cuban troops in seven months. According to the news it would logistically take two years for fifty thousand to piss off, with all their horrid tanks and all.’ Elsie shook his fat face at him. ‘So, it’s just a smoke-screen, darling. South Africa is making a grand gesture, so Cuba does the same. The Hairybacks know full well the Cubans won’t accept in the end. So when her troops roll back into Angola they’ll go as martyrs, more in sorrow than in anger.’ He ended, ‘No way will South Africa withdraw unless the Cubans do, and they won’t.’
McQuade felt immense relief. Elsie was on the ball, almost an intellectual. He glared at Tucker. ‘Do you think you can remember all that, Hugo? Now dry your eyes and forget about 435!’
But it wasn’t so easy to forget about it. His mood was not improved by Nathan’s good spirits when he showed up on the bridge. ‘At ease, men, aha-ha-ha!’ He was thoroughly enjoying himself, wreathed in Jewish smiles. McQuade would have preferred the man to be worried sick about losing his money. ‘Can I steer?’
‘No, you stick to ladies’ underwear and let us run the ship. Out of my way, please!’ They began putting to sea. He turned on Tucker’s long face.
‘Now what’s wrong with you?’
Tucker whined, ‘How can we do this without the Kid?’ He waved his hand at the new diving gear. ‘And now this new expense. Now we owe Nathan and the bank …’
‘Dry your eyes, you’re not going down into that submarine tomorrow!’
For a moment Tucker’s demeanour improved. ‘You going down alone?’
‘I said into that submarine! You’re still coming with me into the conning tower. And don’t count on not having to go any further, I may need you inside.’
Tucker looked aghast. ‘Now look,’ he said emphatically, ‘let’s get one thing absolutely clear: I am not going any further than the conning tower. I am a father … I vote we put this whole thing off until the Kid’s ankle is better.’
Elsie snapped. ‘We’ve already paid the crew off!’
Tucker cried, ‘It’s all right for you – you don’t have to go down where angels fear to tread! We could go’n round up the crew—’
McQuade shouted, ‘Shut up everybody! While I tell you what I found out in Germany!’ He glared at Tucker: ‘At my own expense …’
He unzipped his holdall and pulled out the book The Type VII C U-Boat by David Westwood, the photographs he had taken of the submarine at Laboe, and the brochure of it. He did not produce his file of research done at the Imperial War Museum because there was no need for them to know about Heinrich Muller yet: if that was repeated ashore it could ruin all his plans. He banged the book and glared at them all, especially Tucker.
‘It’s all in there. Every minute detail of our submarine. To scale. We’ll go through it together, page by page, drawing by drawing, until we know every step backwards. And I was right in trying to enter feet-first by the escape tube. Except I must do it without the harness on my back. It’s got to be lowered down to me after I’ve cleared the bottom of the tube.’
‘Oh Lord,’ Tucker moaned.
‘Now will you please start going through that book while I get some sleep. And Hugo? …’
‘Why have I got to know what the inside looks like?’ Tucker whined suspiciously. ‘I’m not going inside.’
McQuade controlled his irritation. ‘I want everybody to study that book so everybody knows what’s down there, in case there’s an emergency and somebody has to stick their neck out and help me! Got that? And Hugo?’
‘Oh Lord. And what else did you find out in Germany – you went to see if you could trace the submarine in the archives.’
McQuade said triumphantly, ‘It is one of twenty-eight submarines officially listed as missing! Last reported in or near Flensberg at the end of April, 1945. And I traced Horst Kohler’s widow. Her husband told her that the submarine was putting to sea on a non-aggressive mission. Because it only had one torpedo. And it was carrying a number of civilians, as passengers.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘They must have been very important civilians, and very important civilians escaping in a Navy submarine must have been carrying a lot of swag. So will everybody please cheer up?’
They were all staring at him. ‘Wow …’ Elsie breathed, ‘congratulations.’ Nathan was looking smug. Pottie Potgieter was open-mouthed. ‘Jere, man …’ Only Tucker looked unimpressed. He opened his mouth but McQuade cut in.
‘Wake me in two hours! And Hugo? Will you please, please for Christ’s sake stop saying “Oh Lord” every time I tell you something?’
He picked up his holdall and beckoned to Nathan to follow him. Tucker cried: ‘And will you please, please, please stop saying Christ when we’re about to risk life and limb where angels fear to tread?’
Nathan followed him down into the saloon. McQuade said, ‘Did you find out anything more about Julie Goldstein?’
‘Yep,’ Nathan said cheerfully. ‘That he’s a crook.’
‘For God’s sake, Nathan, be serious.’
‘He’s a crook. And he’s just the guy for us.’
‘How is he a crook?’
Nathan said, ‘Oh, he’s a genuine antique dealer. Worldwide, et cetera. But he beats the Exchange Control Regulations for rich clients who want to get money out of the country illegally.’
‘How?’ McQuade demanded.
‘Easy. You buy one of Julie’s antique vases, from his catalogue. The vase is worth, say, ten thousand. But you pay him twenty thousand. He gives you an invoice for ten thousand. He imports your vase and delivers it to you. He then pays the equivalent of the other ten which you overpaid into a Swiss account for you, from his own Swiss account – less thirty per cent.’ He spread his hands. ‘And everybody’s happy. Julie’s happy because he sold a vase and he’s made an additional thirty per cent on your other ten thousand. And you’re happy because you’ve got a nice vase and you’ve got seven thousand out of the country.’
‘I see. Bloomberg told you this?’
‘Bloomers,’ Nathan agreed. ‘Another way is this. You sell your Ming vase to Julie. Although its real value is ten thousand, he pays you one thousand, and gives you an invoice for one thousand. He then crates it up and sends it to a rich buyer in, say, Istanbul. The Istanbul gennelman pays ten thousand for it, into Julie’s Swiss account. Julie now pays you your nine thousand, less thirty per cent, into your Swiss account. Simple.’
McQuade rubbed his chin. ‘Where’s the catch? How come he doesn’t get caught?’
Nathan spread his hands. ‘What’s the value of a Ming vase?’ He tapped his head: ‘Its value is in the mind. That’s the beauty of this “wealth” he talks about. He can prove he only paid one thousand for it, because he’s got the copy of the invoice he gave you. Customs can’t call in experts from Sotheby’s every time, and if Exchange Control asks questions he says he paid one thousand and sold it for fifteen hundred. He imports fifteen hundred back into South Africa to keep Exchange Control happy.’
McQuade gave a worried sigh. ‘I don’t like this. So, technically we’re going to sell him the loot – at a fraction of its value. So legally it’s his. And we’ve got to trust him to re-sell it for us? Is he to be trusted with millions?’
‘He’s got an awful lot of rich clients he doesn’t want to lose.’
‘If he cheats us he won’t need any more rich clients. And our loot is probably in the form of gold bullion. Or diamonds. He can’t say that’s a Ming vase.’
‘He’ll export it in crates of carpets and artefacts. He’s exporting stuff all the time.’
McQuade went to his cabin. He lay in his bunk, staring at the deckhead. He dreaded diving down on that submarine tomorrow. That long dark ghostly shape. And what horrors would he find in there?
He forced the image aside and thought about Sarah.
Tucker did not wake him after two hours. ‘You were asleep and I thought what the hell, I’m so uptight I wouldn’t be able to rest so I might as well stand your watch for you.’
McQuade said irritably, ‘For God’s sake, I’m the poor bastard who’s got to go down that tube!’
‘Don’t feel obliged,’ Tucker said. ‘We can turn around right now if you want!’
‘Yeah, and what about the money you’re going to make?’
Tucker was morbidly studying the book on U-boats, the helm on autopilot. Elsie was in the galley preparing lunch, Potgieter was off-watch, Nathan was lying on the foredeck sunbathing.
McQuade went through the photographs with Tucker, then leafed through the book with him, page by page, explaining. ‘Okay, okay.’ Tucker said irritably. ‘I’m not stupid, you know.’
‘Just scared shitless?’
‘Just scared shitless.’
He left Tucker to study and went back to his cabin. He took the recorder and tapes from his holdall and went to the galley. Elsie was making a salad, chopping up radishes with a meat cleaver. ‘Mind your fingers, Elsie.’
‘I’ve plenty of ’em. Now tell me what really happened.’
‘I’ve met the girl I’m going to marry, Elsie.’
Elsie stopped chopping. ‘Oh James! How wonderful! Who is she?’
McQuade grinned, ‘I’ll tell you later. Right now I’ve got work to do. And a job for you.’ He handed her the tapes and recorder. Transcribe those tapes using the typewriter. It’ll take you a couple of days, probably.’
Elsie looked surprised. ‘What are they about?’
‘All relevant to our submarine. You’re to treat this as absolutely confidential, the boys must know nothing about it until it becomes necessary, because if one of them opens their mouths ashore, the most-wanted Nazi war-criminal of today may escape.’
Elsie was staring at him.
McQuade went to his cabin. He unpacked his file of notes and spread them out on his table. He had a jumble of facts about Muller’s activities which he now intended to put into comprehensible sequence, in an effort to know everything possible about his man, in the hope that some detail would turn up which would help him find the bastard once he was finished with that submarine.
He began to make notes from notes. An hour passed before he got his facts into acceptable order. His most helpful source was the photostatted pages from the Encyclopaedia of the Thira Reich. He began to paraphrase:
‘Heinrich Muller rose through the ranks of the Munich Police by dedicated, intelligent work. Before Hitler came to power, Muller was sent to Russia to study police methods. He became a great admirer of the Soviet Secret Police spy system and terror techniques.
‘When Hitler’s Nazi Party began their subversive tactics, Muller energetically tried to suppress them. However, when Nazi power was climbing, Hitler murdered his niece with whom he was having an incestuous affair, and Muller, who investigated the case, was bribed by Martin Bormann to conceal evidence and hush up the case.
‘When Hitler came to power in 1933 Muller promptly directed his police expertise against anti-Nazis and communists, using the terror techniques he’d learnt in Russia.
‘Muller did many dirty jobs for Hitler. He masterminded the Night of the Long Knives in which the stormtroops – the Brown-Shirt thugs who had been Hitler’s bodyguards – were systematically murdered. Thereafter Muller subjugated the army for Hitler by destroying the reputations of generals who did not want war.
‘Meanwhile, as head of the Gestapo, Muller was ultimately responsible for deciding who would be sent to the concentration camps built for Hitler’s enemies.
‘To provide Hitler with an excuse to declare war on Poland in 1939, Muller faked a Polish attack on a German radic station near the border by providing condemned German prisoners who were put into Polish uniforms and shot dead in the fake radio station “attack”.
‘When Hitler declared war on Russia, Muller organized the Einsatzgruppen to carry out genocide. The plan was that thirty million Slavs were to be killed to provide Lebensraum, living space, for Germany.
‘Muller was one of the fifteen top Nazis at the Wannsee Conference in 1942 at which Hitler’s Final Solution was unveiled. His Gestapo was given the job of building extermination facilities in concentration camps, of “combing Europe from west to east” for Jews. He was Adolf Eichmann’s boss, responsible for all Eichmann’s actions.
‘In 1942, Deputy-Führer Rudolf Hess flew to England to attempt to make peace with Churchill, and has been in prison ever since. Hitler was furious and Muller conducted the murderous purge that followed to root out possible traitors. Similarly, when Heydrich, head of the Security Service, was assassinated in Prague, Muller conducted the purge. The town of Lidice was razed to the ground, all male inhabitants shot. Muller was also very impatient with the French and the Italians for failing to send sufficient Jews to Germany for extermination, and he applied pressure on both countries to improve.
‘Muller issued the “Bullet Decree” ordering that certain prisoners of war were to be executed, a breach of International Law intended as a terror-deterrent to Allied parachute commandos and airmen who crashed over Germany.
‘Throughout the war Muller tried desperately to suppress the “Red Orchestra”, a spy’s radio transmissions to Russia. He made many arrests, but the radio transmissions kept popping up again elsewhere. He failed to suppress the last one, which was coming from near Hitler’s chancellory in Berlin. Some theorists suggest that the spy was Martin Bormann himself, Hitler’s right-hand man, who had the only uncontrolled radio in Germany, used to send instructions to Nazi Party offices. Other theorists even suggest that the spy was Muller, who was an admirer of the Soviet Secret Police. This seems highly unlikely. Under the Nazis, Muller turned his terrible expertise on the communists in Germany, masterminded the Einsatzgruppen to murder millions of Russians, including communists, and furiously tried to crush the Red Orchestra. He personally ordered “special action” – the gas chamber or firing squad – for thousands of Russian prisoners of war. He made himself into an arch-war-criminal all down the line.
‘Muller was a member of The Brotherhood which, as the war closed in on Germany, organized escape routes for senior Nazis, and funds to rebuild the Fourth Reich. He offered false identification documents to members of his circle, including Adolf Eichmann. Muller probably had false identification documents made for himself. Since he used the name H. Strauss at the dentist in Swakopmund, it is likely that that was the name on his false documents and that he stuck to that name.
‘Throughout the war, Hitler raided the museums of Europe and stole vast quantities of works of art. When the war turned against Germany, Hitler had most of his loot transferred to a salt mine in the Aussee region. Also, many sealed crates containing treasure were dropped into lakes in the region. Some were recovered after the war and mostly contained counterfeit English bank-notes. More sunken crates containing treasure were found in Black Lake in Czechoslovakia: records prove that these crates were loaded under the supervision of Heinrich Muller.
‘He directed the terror-machinery of Germany up to the end. He frequently visited Hitler’s bunker, probably daily. He worked closely with Martin Bormann, Hitler’s right-hand man. Hitler dictated his will and political testament the day before he committed suicide, appointing Grand Admiral Dönitz as his successor to carry on the “Heroic Age” of Nazism. Copies of the will were despatched by couriers through the conflagration of Berlin, to Dönitz at his base in northern Germany. After Hitler’s body had been burned, along with his bride’s, Eva Braun, in the chancellory garden, Muller helped Bormann store important documents. Both thereafter disappeared from the bunker, though not together. It is known that Bormann intended to escape from the ruins of Berlin and make his way to Admiral Dönitz to offer his services in Dönitz’s new government, as did Himmler and Ribbentrop. It is highly likely, therefore, that Muller did the same thing.
‘Conclusion. Because Muller arrived on the Skeleton Coast in possession of “official” Nazi loot (counterfeit banknotes), and because Frau Kohler says the submarine left on a non-aggressive mission (only one torpedo) it seems likely that Admiral Dönitz sent Muller off on the submarine to carry out the late Hitler’s testament – in which case there is likely to be a great deal of treasure aboard. Alternatively, Muller pulled strings to commandeer the submarine on his own initiative – in which case he is likely to have had more treasure on board than he could swim ashore with.’
McQuade threw down his pen.
But why did only two men escape?
The sun was going down, blazing red and gold. McQuade stared out at the cold, seething Atlantic. By God, he was going to bring the bastard to justice if he was still alive …