The drive up to Karinhall, Goering’s huge country house, was a mile long; so as the Mercedes sped through the beautiful park Gregory had several minutes in which to contemplate the ghastly trick that fate had played him. This was the second time that he had been trapped by circumstances into going to Karinhall. His first visit had been in the autumn of 1939, nearly five and a half years ago. He had then been posing as Colonel Baron von Lutz, but had taken a desperate gamble by disclosing his real identity to the Reichsmarschall because only by doing so could he discover if Erika was in the hands of the Gestapo as he feared, and if so secure her release; for he knew that Goering had in the past been a great friend of Erika’s, so would almost certainly use his power to save her.
Greatly intrigued by the fact that the loveliest woman in pre-war Berlin was in love with Gregory, Goering had asked him to dine and tell him about himself. During their long tête-à-tête it had emerged that they had certain interests in common. Russia was then allied to Germany, so a potential enemy of Britain, and was threatening to invade Finland. But as a long-term policy it was to Germany’s interest to weaken Russia; so Goering had wanted the Finns to fight. Gregory had persuaded the Reichsmarschall that if given enough information about the then weakness of the Soviet Army, and with winter coming on to aid them, the Finns would resist the Russians’ demands. Goering had agreed and supplied the information from the German Intelligence files. So instead of being shot as a confessed British spy Gregory had gone to Finland as Goering’s secret envoy.
But now he could think of no such plan to save himself by offering to perform some valuable service for the Reichsmarschall. And Goering was not the man to spare an enemy of his country out of sentiment, because he happened to be the lover of a woman who, in pre-war days, had been a most welcome guest at Karinhall.
Grimly, Gregory faced the fact that his only chance of surviving the coming interview was that, after five and a half years, the Reichsmarschall would fail to recognise the gaunt prisoner in ill-fitting civilian clothes, whom he had seen only once before posing as a Prussian aristocrat and dressed in the impeccable uniform of a German Colonel. Against that there was the disconcerting memory that while Goering had sent to Berlin for Intelligence summaries by the three Services and dictated from them an enormously long report for the Finns, Gregory had sat up with him the whole night, then breakfasted with him; and people are not apt to forget a face that has been within a few yards of them for the best part of twelve hours.
The car drew up at the front door of the great mansion and they got out. The sentries presented arms to Kaindl and the Mercedes drove off to park with a score of other cars that were lined up in a wide sweep at one side of the house; for when Goering was in residence he used his home as a headquarters and there were many officers coming and going.
When Gregory had last been to Karinhall the great pillared entrance hall had held a number of good statues and pictures; as they passed through it now, in spite of his anxiety about himself, he looked round with amazement. The old objets d’art had been replaced with masterpieces every one of which was worth a fortune. Goering, he knew, loved beautiful things and these priceless treasures were obviously some of the many that he had had carried off from museums and private collections in France, Belgium, Holland and other countries that the German armies had overrun. As an art thief it looked as if he had exceeded even the cupidity of Napoleon.
Kaindl led the way upstairs to the second floor and along to a good-sized room in a side wing of the house. Even here there were furniture and pictures that any rich man would have been happy to possess. The room had two beds, a large table, a writing desk and a good selection of books; and leading off it was a well-equipped bathroom.
With a smile, the plump-faced Colonel said, ‘No doubt you will find this a pleasant change after the accommodation to which you have been used. Your meals will be brought to you and you are not to leave this room until the Reichsmarschall sends for you. Naturally, he is always very fully occupied; so that may not be for some days. In the meantime I feel sure that you would not be so foolish as to attempt to escape; but as a formality I must ask you both to give me your paroles.’
Malacou did so at once, Gregory hesitated for a moment. To refuse would mean being locked up. Even if he could break out the chances of being able to evade the guards in both the house and park were slender. Above all, he had neither papers nor money. Without either and with a full description of himself being circulated to the police of the whole district his capture would be as good as certain; and when he was caught he would certainly be shot. Swiftly he decided that it would be better to bank on Goering failing to recognise him; so he, too, gave his parole.
As soon as Kaindl had left them, Malacou, his black eyes bright with triumph, gave a low laugh and said, ‘There; you see how right I was. I told you that with your experience in handling these Nazi swine and my powers as an occultist, between us we’d land on our feet.’
Rounding on him, Gregory snapped, ‘Damn you! I’ve always known that you derive your powers from the Devil. I was crazy to have anything more to do with you. It’s always said that Satan only makes use of his votaries then lets them down. I’m more likely to land up against a brick wall, unless Goering takes it into his head to have me hanged.’
‘What makes you think that? I warned you that we should be in considerable danger, but——’
Impatiently Gregory cut him short and told him the situation. When he had done, he added, ‘And if he recognises me he’ll never believe that you didn’t know that I am a British agent; so you’ll be for the high jump too.’
‘No.’ Malacou shook his head. ‘Unless Hitler dies unexpectedly I shall be safe. At a certain point some months ahead our horoscopes interlock. Both he and I enter a period of crisis but it is written in the stars that I shall outlive him. As for yourself, you say that when you were at Herr Goering’s mercy before you saved yourself by thinking of a way in which you could be of use to him. You must use that agile brain of yours and devise some similar plan to produce should your fears be justified and he does remember you.’
‘The situation is utterly different,’ replied Gregory angrily. ‘When I was last here it was early in the war. Only a few nations were involved. As the others had not then lined up there was still scope to apply power politics to the smaller countries. Now they are all in it up to their necks and there’s no way in which I could suggest aiding Germany, even if in this case I were prepared to work against the interests of Britain. Some freak of fortune may enable you to save yourself, but unless Goering’s memory fails him, I tell you my number is up.’
After a few moments’ thought Malacou said, ‘From what I remember of your horoscope your situation is now much as it was when you were trying to find out what was going on at Peenemünde. You have again entered a period of danger, but there is a fair chance that you will come through it. If you will agree to let me help you I could assure your doing so.’
‘How?’ Gregory asked, giving him a suspicious look.
‘At night we can be sure of remaining undisturbed here. I could perform a ceremony. The Lord of this World does not abandon his followers, as you seem to think. If you are prepared to acknowledge him as your Master, he——’
Taking a pace forward, Gregory seized Malacou by the neck of his jacket, shook him violently and roared, ‘You filthy Satanist. Get to hell where you belong. I’d sooner die first. For two pins I’d kill you here and now.’
His thick-lipped mouth agape with terror, Malacou staggered back and collapsed into an armchair. Perspiration had started out on his dark forehead. With a long thin hand he wiped it away. Then, when he had recovered a little, he whined:
‘I was only trying to help you. Remember we are at one in our hatred of the Nazis, and we need one another. I look on you as my friend. Think back on how I hid you all those weeks at Sassen, and by my skill as a hypnotist saved you much pain. Were it not for me and the power I derive from my Master you would not be alive today.’
‘You helped me then because you had read in the stars that I would save your life later,’ Gregory snarled. ‘And had I not been fool enough to indulge with you in that damned thought transference I’d not be in this accursed country now, but safe in England.’
‘You are unfair. From having established rapport with you I enabled you to do your country a great service by getting the mechanism of the giant rocket out of Poland. I risked my life to achieve that and have since paid dearly for it. I have told you, too, that together we shall soon strike another great blow against the Nazis. Surely it is that which counts above all else.’
Gregory stared down into Malacou’s big dark hook-nosed face with its sensual mouth and clever, slightly slanting eyes. Apart from Stefan Kuporovitch, whom he trusted completely, he had never worked with anyone, greatly preferring to play the lone wolf; and he resented it intensely that in this last phase of the war fate should have thrust such a partner as Malacou on him. The man was unprincipled, evil, and to save his own skin would undoubtedly prove treacherous. Yet there was much in what he said. They were allies against the Nazis and in this thing together. Giving a shrug, Gregory said in a calmer tone:
‘You are right. Abusing you won’t get me anywhere and there’s no sense in our quarrelling. As far as I can see our only hope of saving our skins—or mine, if you prefer it—is to impress Goering with our ability to predict coming events to the same degree as we did Loehritz and Kaindl. If we can be useful to him in that way, even if he does recognise me he may anyhow keep me on ice for the time being.’
With obvious relief, Malacou sat up and said, ‘That’s better. Now tell me everything you know about him, to help me get a sense of his personality.’
Thrusting his head forward Gregory began to pace up and down the room with panther-like strides, while speaking in crisp sentences. ‘To look at he is a big, fat, jovial brute whom one would think to be interested only in wine, women and song. He has earned himself the reputation of being greedy for wealth, is ambitious, vain and utterly ruthless towards his enemies. He is, of course; there can be no doubt about that. But appearances are deceptive. In that great head of his he has a first-class brain or, anyhow, he had, although it’s said that in recent years he has ruined it with drink and drugs. Whether or not he has we shall find out when we meet him.
‘One thing is certain. He has bags of courage. In the First World War he was a fighter pilot. His exploits were second only to those of von Richthofen. He commanded what was known as a “circus” and with it shot down scores of Allied aircraft. When the war ended he refused to surrender its aircraft to the Allies. Instead he and his officers burnt them and swore to stand together when the time came for Germany to revenge her defeat.
‘I think that by then he had married. The girl was rich and beautiful and, if I remember, a Swede. Anyhow, her name was Karin. She was the love of his life. That’s why, although he married again after her death, he called this place Karinhall. For a while they lived in Sweden. It was then that he first took to drugs, and for a time he had to go into a home on that account. But it did not impair his brain.
‘In due course they returned to Germany. Hitler was then no more than a soap-box orator. The two biggest planks in his platform were the danger from Communism and the injustice of the Versailles Treaty. Both of them appealed strongly to Goering. He was one of the very few well-born Germans who gave his allegiance to Hitler in those early days. And Hitler owes an immense amount to him. He was in a position to persuade many wealthy industrialists to support with funds Hitler’s anti-Communist movement. He became the first chief of the Nazi strong-arm squads that formed Hitler’s bodyguard. Goering is no wishy-washy idealist who just did not like the idea of the Communists getting control of Germany—as they might well have done in those days. He went out with a gun in his hand to break up the Communist Party.
‘While Hitler did the talking Goering used every ruthless means in the book to destroy Communism in Germany, including kidnapping the leaders and having them shot. It was that which enabled Hitler to be elected legally as Chancellor of Germany in 1933. Hitler acknowledged the fact by promoting him from an ex-Captain to Field Marshal overnight. But Goering’s usefulness did not end there. As I have told you, he has brains as well as guts. Hitler put him in charge of re-creating the German Air Force and for years he worked like a demon at the job.
‘He became the head of a vast industrial concern, the Hermann Goering Werk, of which you must have heard. By it he not only built the Luftwaffe but became the king-pin in rearming Germany. He is the sort of man who, even if he had been born a poor boy in the Balkans, would have made his millions. He had an extraordinary grasp of essentials and was a glutton for work.
‘Today we know the Luftwaffe’s initial successes have tailed off into failure. Fat Hermann, as the Germans used affectionately to call him, has lost a great part of his popularity. But he is still too mighty a prop to Hitler’s throne for Hitler to dispense with. The other Nazi leaders hate him, because he has never subscribed to the socialist side of National Socialism and he was much too much of a realist to approve the elimination of the Jews, who were so valuable to German industry. He did his utmost to protect Selma’s friend, Hugo Falkenstein, the Jewish millionaire, and he is still the leader of the right-wing Nazis who loathe Goebbels because they know that, given half a chance, he’d turn Germany into a ‘Workers’ State’.
‘He is at daggers drawn with Ribbentrop, too, because he never believed that the British people were effete, and he saw the danger of Germany entering on another world war against the British Empire. He did his utmost to stop Hitler going to war; but as he failed in that, being the complete cynic that he is, he’s made the best of things and turned this place into a vast Aladdin’s cave of looted treasure for his own enjoyment.
‘Well, there is Hermann Goering for you. I’m told that at private parties he often appears in fancy dress and that his favourite costume is that of a Roman Emperor. Anyhow, he is the nearest thing to Nero in our age and it’s my guess that now the Nazi Empire is cracking right, left and centre he is cheerfully fiddling. But that, and in his ostentation and debauchery, is where the resemblance ends. Because he has what Nero never had: brains and guts.’
‘Can you give me his birth date?’ Malacou asked.
‘No, I’m afraid I can’t. But we could get it from some book of reference that is bound to be in the house.’
‘We must, so that I can draw his horoscope.’
There, for the time being, they left matters. By luck, Malacou found an old Wer ist’s? among the books in the room that gave him the date he required, and he set to work on it with the sidereal tables he had brought with him from Sachsenhausen. Having spent twelve hours on Goering’s horoscope, Malacou took from the Wer ist’s? the birth dates of several other leading Nazis and for the following days, with Gregory’s help, worked on them.
His previous endeavours to forecast the end of the war had got him little further than any fairly well-informed person could judge from the continued advance of the Allied Armies. This was because although nations, like persons, have associations with the heavenly bodies, the former are much more nebulous as no birth date can be affixed to them. But his calculations concerning the fates of the Nazi leaders enabled him to form a much clearer picture.
It emerged that a great gap would be torn in their ranks early in the coming May. Both Himmler and Goebbels would take their own lives and a number of others would die in one way or another. There followed a hiatus of seventeen months until October ’46. Ribbentrop, Keitel, Jodl, Rosenberg, Frank and Kaltenbrunner would then all be hanged and Goering commit suicide. But Borgmann, Doenitz and Speer appeared to have a good chance of escaping similar fates.
That of Hitler remained uncertain. He would be in extreme danger of death during the first crisis, but it might be only that one of the doubles he was believed to use was reported dead; so that it would be thought he had committed suicide, while he went into hiding and continued in secret to direct the war.
Further to this, from the more nebulous data it looked as if by April the Russians would be in Berlin, the Americans on the Elbe and the British in possession of the greater part of Western Germany. It also appeared that at that time General Alexander would inflict a final defeat on the German armies in Italy, that both Himmler and Ribbentrop would try to negotiate a peace and that Goering, as Hitler’s already appointed successor, would, temporarily at all events, assume the leadership.
In spite of what looked like the collapse of Germany in May, Malacou was convinced that fighting would continue on a large scale at least until August; but this might be in the Far East and he predicted that, in that month, something like an earthquake would occur in Japan, and that this would have serious repercussions throughout the whole world.
From these predictions they deduced that the arrival of the Russians in Berlin would precipitate a major crisis; perhaps a revolution in the Party, in which Himmler and Goebbels would get the worst of it. But that this would bring about an end to the war did not follow. Goering and the other leaders living on until October ’46 appeared to indicate that under them the many S.S. Divisions and hard core of the Nazis, possibly still controlled by Hitler, would continue to resist long after Berlin had fallen. Considering the enormous superiority of the Allied forces this seemed improbable, yet that possibility could not be ruled out in view of Malacou’s opinion that the great hanging would take place somewhere in South Germany, and it was obvious that if a last stand were to be made it would be in the natural redoubt formed by the Bavarian Alps.
Meanwhile although Gregory tried hard to keep his mind on these deliberations, he lived in constant fear of the summons that might end his life. He ate the good food that was brought up to them scarcely noticing what it was, and for four nights hardly slept from apprehension of the fate that the near future might hold for him. The long hours of waiting frayed even his strong nerves and he reached a point when he began to pray that Goering would send for them; so that he might know the best or worst.
The summons came on their fifth night at Karinhall, January 25th. At seven o’clock that evening Kaindl came in and said, ‘I returned only this afternoon with the Reichsmarschall from one of his tours of inspection. Tonight he is giving a small dinner party and he has ordered me to produce you to entertain his guests afterwards. As he always dines late it will probably be about ten o’clock before I come for you; but you had better be ready well before that. If you do well he will probably keep you here. If not you will be sent back to Sachsenhausen and I shall be on the mat for having misled him. So for both our sakes do your utmost to make yourselves entertaining.’
Malacou assured him that he need have no fears and humbly thanked him for the chance he was giving them. When he had gone they did their best to smarten themselves up, then settled final details about such of Malacou’s forecasts as they would give out and those it would be politic to withhold. At eight o’clock their dinner was brought in, but after a few mouthfuls Gregory found it next to impossible to swallow the food and pushed his plate aside. Throwing himself on his bed he lay there and, by thinking of his beloved Erika, somehow got through the final period of waiting.
Soon after ten Kaindl came for them. They accompanied him down to the ground floor and into a spacious dining room. It was so large that a horseshoe table occupied less than half of it, and Gregory saw that Goering’s idea of a small dinner party consisted of at least twenty people. Most of the men were in uniforms bedecked with Knight Stars, Iron Crosses and other decorations, but three of them were in dinner jackets and the women were all in décolleté evening dresses.
The Reichsmarschall sat enthroned at the outer centre of the horseshoe. As Gregory had thought might prove the case, he was clad in a white and gold toga and had a laurel wreath on his head. He had become enormously fat, his eyes were pouched, his cheeks loose and puffy and on his sausage-like fingers there gleamed rings worth several thousand pounds. No actor in a play would have given a better representation of one of the most dissolute Roman Emperors.
Kaindl led his two charges into the centre of the horseshoe and presented them as Herr Protze and Herr Malacou. Goering ran his eyes over them and spoke:
‘Colonel Kaindl tells me that you predicted our victory in the Ardennes and other matters correctly. Let us hear now what else you can tell us of the course the war will take.’
Gregory drew a deep breath. He was standing within ten feet of Goering and had escaped immediate recognition, but at any moment some expression on his features or in his voice might give him away. With a bow, he replied:
‘Excellency, it is necessary that my colleague be seated. He will then fall into a trance and I shall interpret the communications that he receives from the entities of the outer sphere.’
A chair was brought, Malacou sat down, closed his eyes and, after taking several long breaths, began to mutter. As Gregory felt sure that everyone there must realise that Germany could not now possibly win the war, and that if he held out false hopes no-one would believe him, he said:
‘Alas, through my colleague, the entities speak of no further German victories; but the soldiers of our great Führer will fight desperately in defence of the Reich. May will be the month of decision. Overtures for peace will be made. At that time there will be dissension in the Partei. Many prominent members of it will then die, but Your Excellency will not be among them. By March the Anglo-American armies will be across the Rhine and the Russians across the Oder. In May Berlin will become a doomed city; but it seems that resistance will continue in the south with the object of obtaining better terms from the Allies than they will be willing to give in May.’
Goering shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘You tell us little that from the way things are going we might not guess for ourselves.’
Now that Gregory was, as it were, right up in the firing line, he had got back his nerve and was on the top of his form. With a smile, he replied, ‘That the views of the Herr Reichsmarschall should coincide with fore-knowledge obtained from beyond confirms the soundness of his judgement. But to obtain more than an outline of general events is not possible. I can only add that war will continue to inflict the world at least until next August, and that in that month a disaster will occur in Japan that will affect the whole world.’
‘What kind of disaster?’
‘It will be in the nature of an earthquake or a violent eruption, but there are indications that it will be brought about by man.’
Suddenly Goering’s eyes lit up. ‘Lieber Gott! Could it be that the Allies are really so far advanced in developing an atom bomb?’
Gregory shrugged. ‘That is more than I can say; but many thousands of Japanese will die in the disaster. And now, if it please Your Excellency, my colleague can be the vehicle for much more precise predictions about individuals than about generalities. Would you like to be the first to have your future told?’
Goering shook his head. ‘No. I am content to wait and see what fate sends me.’ Then he gestured to a woman on his right and added, ‘Make a start with this lady here.’ Turning to the woman, Gregory bowed and asked her for the loan of something she always carried. She gave him her gold cigarette case and he handed it to Malacou. He then fetched a chair, sat down opposite the woman and asked her to lay her hands on the table, palms up. Smilingly she did so. For a few moments he studied her hands in silence, meanwhile he conveyed to Malacou what he read in them. Malacou, who was seated behind him, was at the same time psychometrising the cigarette case and communicating his thoughts. By working simultaneously on the same subject in this way they checked their findings, and when Malacou began to mutter Gregory pretended to interpret.
He told the woman that as a child she had had a serious accident that had affected her spine, that she had married twice and that her present husband was an airman, that she had two children, a boy and a girl, both of whom had been sent out of Germany, he thought to Sweden. Then he predicted that she would survive the war, have two more children and go to live in some southern country, he thought Spain.
With astonishment, she declared him to be perfectly right about her past and Goering clapped his mighty beringed hands.
The second subject was a younger woman. Having told her accurately about her past, Gregory said, ‘You, too, will survive the war, gnädige Frau. But not without injury. I regret to say that in an air-raid you will lose your right arm. You will also become a widow, but you will marry again, an elderly man who will provide you with every comfort.’
The third was a good-looking but rather sullen-faced woman. About her, spontaneously, Malacou sent Gregory a thought. As all that mattered was to impress Goering he decided to use it. When he had told her past, he said, ‘Within six months you will become the mistress of a Russian officer.’
Her eyes blazing with anger the woman sprang to her feet and slapped his face. But Goering roared with laughter and the rest of the guests followed his lead.
When the clamour had subsided Gregory started on his next subject. She was what the French term a ‘belle laide’. Her hair was a true gold and Gregory thought that he had rarely looked into a pair of more magnificent eyes; but her mouth was a thick gash across her face, and enormous. As he looked at her he suddenly wondered if she could be Sabine’s friend, Paula von Proffin of the letter-box mouth. When his reading of her hand and the thoughts Malacou sent him tallied with what Sabine had told him of Paula he felt certain of it. Malacou also conveyed to him that she would be raped to death by Russian soldiers. Looking at her with pity he decided to give her no idea of that. Instead, after telling her that she had had a hard early life as a model, then married a banker who had left her penniless, he added, ‘Your life will not be a long one, so make the most of it. At all events you are now married to an immensely rich man who can afford to indulge you in every luxury.’
Again Goering roared with laughter. Then, leaning forward towards a middle-aged man in a dinner jacket who was seated near him, he bellowed, ‘Listen to that, Hans. And you pleading poverty before dinner. You’ll not be able to deny little Paula anything after this.’
From that Gregory surmised that her new husband must be one of the chiefs of the Hermann Goering Werk, and that was why they were among Goering’s guests.
Paula gave Gregory a ravishing smile and he turned to the next woman along the table. Among other thoughts, Malacou informed him that she had a venereal disease. So in her case he ended by saying, ‘For the present I would advise you to lead the life of a nun; otherwise you will give anyone you go to bed with a present that he will not thank you for.’
She, too, jumped up in a fury, but Gregory sprang back in time to evade the slap she aimed at him. Again the cruel laughter rang out and, bursting into tears, the woman ran from the room.
‘Well done,’ wheezed Goering. ‘Well done. I shall find you invaluable.’
So it went on through the women, then the men took their turn. Most of them were to survive, but three were to die, and Gregory told them frankly that they would give their lives for the Führer; but he refused to give them particulars or dates. One among them was a Naval Captain and Malacou told Gregory, both by telepathy and by confirming it in the muttered Turkish that at times he used to ensure that Gregory got his thoughts exactly, that the Captain was a traitor in the camp and using his position to spy on Goering.
Gregory made no mention of that, but when he had told all their fortunes he addressed the Reichsmarschall. ‘Excellency, these psychic investigations into your guests have revealed one piece of information that I have not disclosed. It is for your ear alone and important to your safety. If you would give me a few minutes in private …’
Goering’s eyes held his for a moment, then the elephantine Chief of the Luftwaffe nodded, heaved himself up from his great ivory and gold throne and said, ‘Come with me.’
Picking up the skirts of his toga, he led the way out to an ante-room. On the walls there was a fabulous collection of paintings by the Dutch Masters. A great curved table desk occupied the centre of the room. With a grunt Goering lowered himself into a chair behind it, signed to Gregory to take another, and said:
‘Well, go ahead.’
‘That Naval Captain,’ Gregory replied. ‘I don’t know his name. But my colleague is certain that he has been planted here to spy on you.’
A broad grin spread over the Reichsmarschall’s fat face. ‘I know it. He is my Naval Attaché, but in the pay of Himmler. I keep him on a string. Better the Devil you know than the Devil you don’t. As long as he is here Himmler won’t send anyone else to spy on me. I feed him with what I want that crazy fool to know.’
Gregory smiled. ‘Then my warning is redundant, Herr Reichsmarschall. But Herr Malacou and I are deeply grateful for the way in which you have rescued us from prison and are anxious to be of service to you in any way we can.’
For a moment Goering studied Gregory’s face intently, then he said, ‘Tell me, Herr Protze, how much of this clever act of yours is trickery? There are no means by which your predictions about the future can be checked, but all my guests are well-known people; so you and this Oriental fellow for whom you appear to act as manager might have obtained particulars about their pasts from ordinary sources.’
‘No,’ Gregory replied firmly. ‘I assure Your Excellency that Herr Malacou is a genuine mystic. After all, both of us have been confined at Sachsenhausen for the past four months; so what possible opportunity could we have had to ferret out facts about the lives of your guests?’
Goering nodded. ‘Yes. You certainly seem to have a point there. The Führer and Himmler swear by this sort of thing; but I never have. I’m still convinced that the occult has nothing to do with it. My belief is that you have only the ability to read people’s thoughts about themselves, and make up the rest. Still, that’s neither here nor there. The two of you provided us with an excellent entertainment, and in these days we haven’t much to laugh about. You may go now. Tell Colonel Kaindl to give you a glass of wine and to protect you from those angry women, and that I’ll rejoin my guests presently. I’ve a few notes I wish to make.’
As he spoke, Goering took a sheet of paper from a drawer and picked up a pen.
Having thanked him, Gregory came to his feet, gave the Nazi salute, turned about and walked towards the door. He was breathing freely now and his heart was high. He had come through the ordeal undiscovered and the party had been a huge success. The cold, the hunger, the lice, the stink and the nightly fatigue from which he had suffered for so many weeks at Sachsenhausen were finished with. He was safe now and he bad only occasionally to amuse the Reichsmarschall at the expense of his guests to continue enjoying the good food and comfort of Karinhall.
He had just reached the door when Goering’s voice came clearly from behind him. ‘By the by. When you last saw her, how was my old friend Erika?’