The Berkut (19 page)

"I don't know," Petrov said. "Not yet. But the corpse that is not Hitler's tells us there had to be a way."

Gnedin interrupted. "I still have doubts."

"Explain," Petrov commanded.

"The teeth. Maybe the woman lied to Ezdovo, and even to the commission, but the pathologists still were the ones who actually matched the teeth to the records. I accept the lettuce as a powerful area of doubt-something to be further investigated and considered
but I have to think about this some more. Perhaps we don't want to believe the obvious."

"Let's suppose, for the sake of argument," Petrov countered, "that the double's teeth had been prepared and altered. Not such a difficult matter, and it would not be necessary for the fillings to be identical if you planned to fire a bullet into the teeth. You have to consider the dynamics. Our doctors
want
to identify Hitler-if not alive, then dead. The evidence will be colored by their legitimate desire to be rid of the monster. What we are talking about is making a few small modifications that will enable the investigators to suspend their disbelief."

"What about the missing testicle?"

"Ah," Petrov said. "A simple matter. First, it has been rumored that Hitler had only a single testicle. It may
or may not be true; there's no evidence in the medical records to support it. But consider: if you were Hitler and had an enemy who believed this, what better proof of your death could you provide than a corpse with a single gonad? Surgically removed from the double. I doubt that Hitler lacks one, but he has seen to it that the world has found what it expected, no?"

Gnedin shook his head. "It follows, but this is conjecture, not science."

"In an investigation one always goes from science to conjecture. Science is but a formal way of thinking and classifying what we see, a method of relating what we do know to what we want to know. But this time I feel in my bones and in my mind that the weight of evidence points to our view. The commission is wrong: Adolf Hitler is alive. The question is, where has he gone?"

23 – May 14, 1945, 10:00 A.M.

Petrov, Bailov and Gnedin returned the next day to the bunker below the Reich Chancellery. Bailov located the diesel engine that served as the power generator for the facility, started it and turned on the lighting before the group assembled in Hitler's suite.

"The whole thing is so simple that it's easy to not see the obvious," Petrov said. "Artists spend their entire lives learning how to see. Policemen do the same. Most people go through life looking at the world around them, but never actually seeing what is there. That's our problem. It's all been here right in front of us, so obvious that we simply couldn't accept it. The switch had to have been made at the very last moment,
after
all the witnesses had seen them shut themselves into this area. The clear but invisible fact is that there must be another way out."

"Could he have hidden and waited, then slipped out through the stairs to the unfinished tower?" Bailov wondered.

"No. First, this would mean that the double would have had to be hiding in here for some time before the switch. Secondly, it would be too difficult to hide him from Braun. The double would have to enter through the escape route."

"Unless she knew what he was planning," Gnedin said.

"Yes, that's possible," Petrov allowed. "She was a simple-minded thing, dedicated to her master. But while it's possible that she would agree to a sacrificial suicide to cover his escape, I doubt it. From what we know of her, she was selfish and self-centered. Furs, silk dresses, French underwear, expensive perfumes, jewels-what do these say about Braun? Here they were with the world collapsing above them and she has arranged to keep all of her bourgeois finery with her. It's not likely she would agree to kill herself unless she thought that Hitler would die too. Without him, she was nothing. This has all the signs of a carefully organized operation, planned long before its time. Hitler had plenty of opportunity to flee to his
alpenfestung
as part of Operation Seraglio, but he chose to remain
in Berlin. This in itself is a curious choice that demands further examination. His armies, such as they were, were still fighting in central Austria and in the Munich area. He had some reserves in Italy near the Austro-Swiss border. At the end, despite its losses, the Wehrmacht still managed to control a narrow strip of Germany stretching from the Baltic to Austria. The war was not ove
r, not for an extremist like Hitl
er. From a military perspective, he retained ample room to maneuver-tactically if not strategically-and enough firepower to continue, if he was careful in selecting where and when his armies fought. His history has always been to flee confrontation in order to scheme again. This is an important biographical fact," Petrov said firmly. "The trend is clear; a man does not change such deep habits. Those who run early run late. It's the nature of the man we're seeking."

The others listened intentl
y.

"It's my opinion that Braun knew nothing of the conspiracy. She killed herself believing they would die together. After she eliminated herself, the switch was made. Weighing all the evidence, this is the only deduction that can be made. It follows that there must be a way in and out of this place that neither the woman nor any of the other Nazis knew of."

"A false wall," Gnedin suggested.

"Or floor," Petrov added quickly. "It's curious that this bunker, w
hich was constructed only recentl
y and built all at once, has two levels. There is no architectural rationale for this level being deeper than the other. If the other level is above, then there may be a route underneath it."

"Wall, floor, ceiling: there are no other choices," Bailov said.

"Whichever it is, it has to be in this area, because there is only one obvious way in: through the door to the corridor. If it were I, I'd want direct access to this area to minimize discovery of the double and the plan."

"Precisely," Petrov said. "It's here, near us."

During the ensuing discussion, it was Bailov who suggested that they investigate the light fixtures. Beginning first in Eva Braun's bedroom, they examined the lights mounted in the ceilings. In each, they found only a shallow well that housed the fixture. The wire disappeared from the fixture into a metal conduit, which in turn was embedded in the surrounding concrete itself. The next to the last light they tried was in the comer of Hitler's bedroom. Bailov opened it, but found that he could not extract it from the mounting as he had the others. "This one's different," Bailov reported. "It won't come loose."

Petrov squinted at the ceiling. "Probe it," he directed.

Using a small hammer from an impressive tool bin in the power room, Bailov bashed in one side of the fixture. Bending the metal, he could see concrete. "It's the same. It must be stuck."

"Chip at the concrete," Petrov advised. He was standing directly underneath, watching intently.

"It's several feet thick," Bailov complained.

"Perhaps," Petrov said. Bailov pounded for some time before small flakes began to break loose. After a while he tired and Gnedin took over. It took more than an hour, and Petrov refused to allow them to rest. It was Bailov who finally made the breakthrough. "I'll be damned," he said. "There's a metal plate inside the concrete."

"Leave it," Petrov said. "Let's test some of the other fittings."

Working on the others was easier because the lighting units could be removed and more room was available for leverage with the hammer and a sharp chisel. They drove holes in the others to the same depth as the one that contained the metal backing, but they seemed to be all concrete; there were no more plates. After the third one had been tested, Petrov directed them back to the original discovery. Bailov struck the metal several times. "Heavy gauge, but I think we can get through it with a sledge and a chisel."

Gnedin got the tools they needed from a work detail on the grounds of the Chancellery. Using brute force, it took them two hours to pierce the metal backing. With a flashlight, they could see that there was a dark, hollow space above. Satisfied that they were on to something, they used the crowbar to bend the fixture from its mounting and boosted Petrov into the opening. It was large enough to accommodate a man somewhat larger than their diminutive leader.

Shining his light ahead of him, Petrov could see immediately that there was plenty of room up here. This was no secret escape tunnel just a long, straight duct, probably for maintenance access. Marks in the dust of the shaft's floor told him that someone had been here, though how recently he couldn't tell. Before attempting to explore, he studied the metal support that had held the light fixture. Heavy screws held it in place in the duct. Removal of the fixture, he realized, could be accomplished
only from above.
From below it looked like all of the others, but from above, a confederate could remove the screws, lift out the light, accomplish the transfer, then replace the fixture and screws when the task was accomplished. Given its ap pearance from below, there would be no reason to suspect that it could be removed and no way to determine the fact without deliberately tearing it apart. This was what they had been looking for. The escape hatch was ingenious, further evidence of how well the flight from the bunker had been planned.

Petrov poked his head down through the opening. He wanted to be sure that this was the only fixture that permitted egress; he had to be certain. "Remove the other fixtures. I want to be sure that this is the only one like this."

"What's up there?" Gnedin asked while Bailov swore at the work ahead of them.

"A large metal duct of some kind. It doesn't seem to serve any purpose. The shaft is large enough to move through. The light was fastened with screws from up here. Whoever designed it had this in mind." Petrov sat back to wait for the work to be done.

"The other lights are all the same," Bailov shouted up after a long interval. "They're all recessed in the concrete."

Petrov grunted acknowledgment. "I'm going to have a look around up here." Crawling forward, he soon reached the first wide area. He studied the metal surface, which looked as if it had been wiped clean. But when he lay flat on his stomach, lowering his face to a centimeter or two above the surface and scanning with his light, he found several small black stains, no wider than pencil points. Moving his face even closer, he guessed what they were and used a small knife to break them loose from the metal. Using a white cloth, he blotted at the dried spots until they stuck to the fabric, then carefully folded the cloth and stored it in an inner pocket of his coat. Continuing the inspection, he located several hairs of different lengths and, as meticulously as before, collected the specimens, wrapped them in another cloth and tucked the evidence away for safekeeping. Satisfied that nothing else remained, he moved on, eventually reaching the point where the shaft turned straight up. He rolled onto his back and slid himself into the vertical shaft, pushing himself up with his legs. Using his flashlight for extra height, he could just tap the top-almost three meters, he guessed. He tried briefly to work up the shaft by bracing his back against one wall and his feet against the other, but it was no use. The metal was too slippery to gain a purchase. He needed help.

Bailov and Gnedin were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up in anticipation, when Petrov suddenly reappeared.

"What did you find?" Bailov asked eagerly.

"Get rope and bring another light," Petrov said.

Bailov fetched the required items immediately. He wasn't going to miss this opportunity. "Me?" he pleaded.

"No. Send Gnedin; he's thinner. Space is tight up here."

With the help of the disappointed Bailov, Gnedin was boosted into the hole in the ceiling and the two men disappeared. Because of Petrov's size and Gnedin's bony frame, they were able to get into the vertical shaft together. Petrov used the doctor's body as a ladder and climbed to the next level. For the moment, he left Gnedin behind and moved along the chute, his anxiety growing.

Within a few meters there was another wide spot. As he had at the other site, Petrov explored this one methodically, ignoring Gnedin's occasional shouted requests for a report. This time he was disappointed: there was nothing. He sat back to think, and used the light to examine the walls and ceiling. A glint, a different color-he never knew exactly what-at the seam of a wall caught his attention. The metal at the seam was overlapped and near it, high up near the ceiling, was a series of scratch marks. By changing his body position, he could see that the metal had been slightly crimped. After more examination, he decided that something had been wedged under the seam. Why? No answer suggested itself, so he moved on, eventually reaching a dead end. Now the mystery increased; there seemed to be no means of exit and the walls and seams all appeared to be tight. Testing them, he found that the walls resisted pressure; they were quite solid, or seemed so. Yet the tunnelled directly to this dead end. Two views would be helpful. He returned to the vertical shaft to assist Gnedin up to his level.

Gnedin offered up the rope, but Petrov shook his head. "There's nothing to fasten it to up here." The words were out before their meaning hit him. Suddenly he understood the reason for the marks on the wall above: something had been wedged under the overlap, something intended to anchor a rope. "Wait," he told Gnedin, who was reaching up for help.