Hitler's Secret (17 page)

They had been walking for several hours and the three of them were exhausted. So exhausted that Leni and Angelika were lying flat out just inside the tree line, away from the road. Otto had gone ahead to reconnoiter a tiny hamlet to see if there was somewhere they could rest and hide till nightfall. Then they would strike out for the border and the lake and, God willing, safety.

They had decided to travel all night because it was not getting dark, really dark, until after ten o’clock. And then there were the roadblocks. They had nearly walked straight into the first one after their swim in the river. It was made up of the vehicles they had seen crossing the bridge. The truck had been parked across the center of the road and the Kübelwagens in line behind it. The troops were stopping and searching every vehicle extremely thoroughly. People were being turned
out of their cars, hoods and trunks inspected, identity cards perused. Children in particular were being carefully scrutinized. Fortunately Otto, Leni, and Angelika had managed to get off the road before they were seen. They gave the soldiers a very wide berth.

When they had met another roadblock just a few miles on, they had decided to leave the road entirely and instead follow alongside it in the nearby woods. It was the old mountain road, known as the Alpenstrasse, and it took them west towards the border, zigzagging through the foothills and valleys. But the going was tough. The rough paths trodden down by locals suddenly gave out and they had to climb over fallen trees and thick spreads of ferns. Every time they stopped for a rest, Leni and Otto would scan the road with their binoculars and, sure enough, there would be more roadblocks, or military vehicles filled with troops heading west for the border. They’d both exchanged anxious glances but said nothing, conscious of the need not to alarm Angelika. But it was clear that there was an organized search. And that someone knew where they were heading. The woman on the train had no doubt alerted the authorities, who had put two and two together.

Leni opened her eyes now and sat up, feeling better for the rest. Why wasn’t Otto back? It was funny: They barely knew each other, but she missed his presence keenly. The way he had held her at the river, the look in his eye, the hotness of his breath against her cheek, had made her feel as though
something incredibly exciting was about to happen. She put it out of her mind. She wished she’d been able to talk to him more about Angelika, but there hadn’t been the opportunity. Perhaps later. She knew one thing for sure: All these troops racing to find them meant Angelika was someone very important.

Leni leaned over and nudged the girl awake.

She opened her eyes, stretched, and yawned. “I’m hungry,” she said.

“Here, drink some water.” Leni handed her the water bottle. She wanted to keep what little food they had left till the evening.

“Isn’t Otto back?” Angelika asked.

Leni shook her head.

“He’s all right though, isn’t he?”

“He’s fine. He’ll be back soon.”

“If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You like him, don’t you?” said Leni softly.

“Yes,” she replied matter-of-factly. “And so do you.”

Leni felt herself blushing. “No, I don’t,” she protested.

“Well, he likes you,” she said. “Do you think he likes me?”

Leni nodded. “Of course he does.”

“Has he told you?” Angelika was looking at her hopefully.

“Well, not in words, but I can see he does. He’s very protective.”

Angelika smiled. “He is, isn’t he?” She glanced at Leni. “I mean, I know you are, too.”

But it’s not the same, is it?
thought Leni. She used to wish she had older brothers, but now she didn’t care. All she wished was that Jacob and Isaac were safe somewhere and that she’d see them again one day.

There was a sudden sound of footsteps and Leni pulled Angelika down. She reached into her backpack and put her hand on her pistol, putting her finger to her lips to indicate silence. The footsteps stopped. Then a single-note whistle rang out. Leni smiled with relief and whistled the three-note response. Moments later Otto was squatting down beside them.

“We have to be quick. There’s a cow barn about half a mile from the village. It’s empty. We can approach it from the woods without being seen. It’ll be a perfect place to hide out until it’s dark. Then we can carry on.”

Angelika sighed. She looked worn out. “I’m so tired. Can’t we just wait here?”

Otto looked at her. “How about if I give you a piggyback ride?”

“A piggyback ride?” Angelika was smiling now. “What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of a piggyback ride?” said Otto, and Angelika shook her head. “It’s simple, silly, you jump onto my back …” He kneeled down and took off his pack, handing it to Leni.

“Thanks a lot,” she said. She’d drawn the short straw.

Angelika jumped onto Otto’s back.

“You’re as light as a feather,” Otto said as they set off.

The barn did look ideal. It was set at the top of a field looking down on the small hamlet. The cows were up on the high pasture at this time of year, so it was empty. Best of all, it was only one hundred feet or so from the woods, with the doors at the back.

They crept in and wedged the doors firmly shut using a thick piece of timber.

“Let’s get up into the hayloft,” Otto said, pointing to a ladder.

They clambered up, Otto pulling the ladder up after them, then scrambled over mounds of straw to the front of the barn. From there, they could watch the hamlet through cracks in the shutters.

Angelika lay down in the hay and closed her eyes. She looked flushed.

“Go to sleep,” said Leni. “We have a long walk tonight.” She hoped the little girl would be asleep soon. She was desperate to talk to Otto about her. He was by the shutters, staring out. She crawled over and sat next to him.

“By my reckoning we’re only about fifteen miles from the Bodensee,” he said. “If we set off after dark we could probably make it in seven hours.”

Leni did the mental arithmetic. “And then what? Lie low for the whole of tomorrow?”

“Yes, once we’ve located the boat. It’s moored in an inlet
just south of Bregenz. We can approach it from the hills above. As soon as it’s dark we cross the lake to the rendezvous point. It’s our best bet. Admiral MacPherson said he would wait for as long as it takes.”

“All right.” Leni pulled her knees up to her chin. “They’re closing in on us, aren’t they?” Time, she felt, was running out.

“If we keep off the roads, we’ve got a good chance,” Otto replied, not answering the question.

He took out the binoculars and peered towards the hamlet. There were about six houses on one road, a tiny church at one end, and a small inn in the middle of the houses. A farm track led from the hamlet to the barn, across a meadow.

“I think she’s asleep, don’t you?” Leni said.

Otto glanced at Angelika and nodded. “Why? What is it?” he asked.

Leni realized her heart was beating faster. “I’ve been thinking about her, about who she could be. If Hess is her so-called uncle, who do you think is her father?”

They both looked at the sleeping Angelika. The late-afternoon sun had cut through a hole in the roof, bathing her in a mote-filled shaft of light. Although her cheeks were flushed from the heat, her face was relaxed and her expression calm. It made her look so peaceful, even ethereal.

“Oh, come on, you’re not saying …” Otto sounded incredulous.

“Yes, I am. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Hitler?” Otto said the word so softly.

“Yes. I think that’s why the Germans all want her so badly. That’s why the British want her, too.”

Otto looked at her, appalled. Then, very slowly, he nodded. For the first time, Leni could see he was afraid.

She went on. “Angelika has spent half her life living in a convent, cut off from the outside world. She has no parents. At least, no one she remembers. The mother superior tells her every week how special she is, how they must look after her. And Hitler’s deputy comes to visit her every year on her birthday.”

“And she remembered being at Hitler’s house in Munich. She must have been sent away to the convent before she could ask questions … or before questions could be asked about her.” He put his head in his hands. “Angelika was right — we’re really in a lot of trouble.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“They’re never going to let us get away.” Otto was struggling to control his panic.

“Stop it, Otto,” Leni said firmly.

“It’s Hitler’s child, Leni. His daughter. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know … I’m thinking.”

They sat there in the stifling heat. Silence.

“Seems to me we’ve got only two options,” Otto said after a while.

“Which are?”

“We leave her here with a note for her to walk to the hamlet. We take off now, make for the border. We can make up some story for MacPherson.”

Leni shook her head. It was the surest way for the two of them to survive, but she hated the idea — and she knew Otto did, too. “No. How do we know what the Nazis will do to her? They might lock her up forever, or worse.”

“That’s not our problem.”

“Isn’t it?” Leni looked at him, hard. “Do you really want to do that? Cut and run?”

Otto glanced over at Angelika, who stirred slightly in her sleep, a lock of blonde hair falling across her face. Leni could see him twisting inside, wrestling with it all. Finally he looked back at her. “Then we complete the mission, get her over the border tonight. Hand her over to MacPherson,” he said.

“And what’s
he
going to do with her?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Leni, those are our orders.” Otto tried to close off further discussion.

“And what about her? Do we tell her who she is?”

Leni and Otto looked at her again, then at each other. She was no longer just a girl to them. She was their little sister now. A reminder of the younger siblings they had both lost.

“She thinks she’s meeting her parents in Switzerland,” Leni said slowly, remembering the girl’s hope. “Let’s leave it like that.”

She could only imagine what a bombshell the truth might be to the girl. Angelika hadn’t chosen to be born, to be the child of that man.

They were in the helicopter heading west when Straniak began shouting and gesticulating wildly for the pilot to land. They descended rapidly and found a level spot in the middle of a valley where two rivers converged at roughly right angles.

Straniak hopped out and rushed towards the meeting point of the rivers. Sticking out of the ground was a series of boulders, no doubt washed down at some point from the mountains above. One in particular, a large slab of granite, had attracted his attention. He stood next to the stone for thirty minutes or so and then hurried to a nearby yew tree. Breaking off a low branch, he fashioned a Y-shaped dowsing twig and started to walk in tight circles around the slab, holding the twig with the tips of his fingers.

Heydrich watched with growing irritation.

“Herr Straniak, I don’t wish to hurry you but we are losing the light.”

“We have three more hours of light today,” Straniak replied, and he continued his circling.

“Not for safe flying.”

Straniak closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “I will be as quick as I can.”

“Can I assist you?” Heydrich asked.

“Silence would be helpful.”

Heydrich wanted to strike this silly man for his arrogance, but he held himself in check. There would be plenty of time to teach him respect once the girl had been found. He shifted his weight and felt the perspiration running down his back, soaking his shirt. Straniak had better prove his worth if he valued his neck.

“I think you will find my presence valuable in your search,” Straniak murmured.

Was he a mind reader, too?

Before Heydrich could say anything more, Straniak continued. “We are standing directly on a very strong ley line.”

“And that is good?” Heydrich had only a vague idea what a ley line was. Mystical pseudoscience, as far as he was concerned.

“Very good for tracing psychic energy.” Straniak leaned down and opened his brown attaché case, extracting a number of items. First he spread out a map of the area, and dropped
a gold coin over their current location. Then he placed the original photograph of the girl on the map. Finally he picked out a small brass pendulum attached to a fine black silk thread. This was his great expertise, the reason the German Navy had given him an entire department in Berlin: to seek out Allied battleships and cruisers on the naval charts of the world’s oceans.

Very delicately he held the pendulum over the photograph with his thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds, seemingly of its own volition, it began to turn, spinning slowly around, the revolutions gradually getting faster and faster. The pendulum became just a golden blur, the sunlight bouncing off it in tiny blinding flashes.

Now Straniak began to trace the pendulum over the map in a neat, mathematical grid. Heydrich watched, transfixed. If nothing else, the display was the most remarkable trick. The pendulum kept moving west across the map towards the Bodensee, crisscrossing north to south in a wide arc.

Quite suddenly, the pendulum stopped spinning, rooted over a particular spot, a slight vibration emanating from it.

“That is where the child is,” said Straniak quietly.

Heydrich scrambled forward, dropping to his knees to read the name of the place on the map. It was a tiny hamlet near the village of Weiler. If Straniak was right, he had truly found the needles in the haystack.