Herr Major. Is it something in connection with the ablutions?’
‘No,’ said Redenbacher. ‘The man you have in the past known as Feldwebel Blessing, overseer of the local foreign labour, is an officer of the Sicherheitspolizei.’
‘Ach so!’ said the satanic Kokke with a smile. ‘Congratulations, Blessing.’ He said it as though Blessing too should be surprised at his new status.
Blessing clicked his heels.
‘Unteroffizier Himmel has stolen some documents,’ said Major Redenbacher. ‘At least it is alleged so. He spoke with the Herr Oberleutnant here shortly before breakfast. You were seated by the window, Kokke. Perhaps you saw Himmel this morning.’
‘He spoke with Herr Oberleutnant Löwenherz.’
‘I have just said so, but did he meet anyone else?’
‘Didn’t he meet Blessing?’
‘No. I was waiting to arrest him at his barracks,’ said Blessing.
‘But didn’t I see you tiptoeing through the woods, Blessing? I would have sworn it was you. Your ears, if you don’t mind my saying so, and a huge fat arse very reminiscent of yours came past the Mess window just about ten o’clock. I turned to my friend Beer and said, “Tell me if my eyes deceive me, Beer, but doesn’t that look very like the big protruding ears and great arse of our friend Feldwebel Blessing who cleans the ablutions?” At the time of course I had no way of knowing that Blessing was an officer.’
When Kokke stopped speaking Major Redenbacher said nothing; he flicked open the training schedules that Kokke had drawn neatly in coloured inks. This inquiry was distasteful to him. They all waited for him to comment. The gossip on the Staffel said that Redenbacher had not been truly well since his ditching last May. Some said that he would soon be posted to a less active unit. In which case, thought Kokke, that humourless stuffed-shirt Löwenherz would probably take over the Gruppe. Ah well, he was a fine pilot, bloody efficient and fair-minded, so it could be worse. He’d never replace Redenbacher in Kokke’s eyes though. The Major was a tough, barnstorming veteran who would break every rule in the book for his men. What was more, unlike Löwenherz, Redenbacher had a sense of humour. Redenbacher still said nothing.
The old Abwehr man said, ‘If you did speak to Himmel, you may as well tell me, Blessing.’
Blessing was indignant. ‘You are not taking this clown’s words seriously?’
Kokke said, ‘Don’t you remember, Blessing, the dog tried to bite you?’
‘If you saw Himmel with the dog, say so,’ said the old man severely to Blessing.
‘Of course he saw them,’ said Kokke. ‘Look at his boots, look for yourself.’ Even Major Redenbacher looked away from the schedules and stared down at Blessing’s grass-wet boots.
‘That’s where the Oberleutnant’s dog peed on his boots. You know how that dog pees everywhere, and Blessing was mistaken for a tree by the careless beast.’
Blessing knew that he was being provoked by Kokke but he kept his temper and even managed a ghost of a smile. It was important that Redenbacher should not think him vindictive or precipitate.
Starkhof took off his spectacles in a gesture which had once been a part of his courtroom technique. ‘Did Himmel have a parcel? It was foolscap size with a brown cover.’
‘It’s difficult to remember,’ admitted Kokke. ‘As I said, there was so much activity.’
‘Thank you, Leutnant Kokke,’ said Starkhof.
‘Blessing,’ said Redenbacher, ‘what evidence do you have against Unteroffizier Himmel?’
Blessing was still holding Himmel’s letter. He said, ‘This is a letter from Himmel to his father dated May 27th, 1943.’ He skimmed through it mumbling, ‘“Weekend … well and happy … thanks for the home-made bread …” Ah, here we are!’ Having found the place, Blessing’s voice changed to one of stern officialdom. ‘“Do not be alarmed when the English terror bombers get through because that too is part of the Führer’s plan. Grandmama and Cousin Paul had to die and our cities must be laid waste as part of a great strategic scheme that my poor brain cannot guess at. It’s the very measure of the genius of our highest commanders that they can allow the Amis and Tommis to drop bombs on us while they lose the war. What fools the Russians must be to think that they are winning the war merely because they are advancing on all fronts. What simpletons the British were to fall into the trap of destroying the Afrika Korps and capturing the whole of North Africa when all the time our beloved Führer had planned it thus. Trust the Führer, he is full of surprises.”’
Blessing looked up triumphantly.
‘Well?’ he said. The words had brought a terrible silence upon the group.
‘Well what, Blessing?’ said Kokke. ‘Wasn’t it a noble letter?’
‘The traitorous swine,’ said Blessing. ‘The sarcasm stands out a mile.’
‘What sarcasm?’ said Kokke. ‘Did you detect sarcasm?’ he asked Starkhof.
‘Styles of writing can be deceptive,’ fielded the old man.
‘Perhaps you’d better point out which passages seem preposterous and quite beyond your belief, Blessing,’ said Kokke.
Blessing looked again at the letter. No one spoke. Aircraft were doing circuits and bumps. One approached down the funnel, slid on to Runway 25 and, at the very moment of landing, gunned the throttle and climbed away into the circuit again. The sudden noise of the motors being opened up to full power shook the windowpanes. Three more did it before Major Redenbacher said, ‘I think you’d better tell me what other evidence you have against Himmel.’
Blessing came to attention again. ‘The stolen document was in his bedside locker last night and the previous night.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘My staff reported it.’
‘I see,’ said Redenbacher. ‘How many of your civilian staff work for the Sicherheitspolizei?’
‘Respectfully, Herr Major, I could not say.’
‘But they have keys to bedside lockers?’
‘Yes, Herr Major.’
‘My quarters are cleaned by your local civilians, Blessing. Do they have a key for my bedside table?’ Blessing did not answer. Redenbacher said, ‘What about this Operational HQ. Do your staff examine my files and desk here in this office?’
‘Not regularly, Herr Major.’
‘Only when you instruct them to do so, eh, Blessing?’
‘With respect, Herr Major, we must confine the conversation to the arrest of the spy Himmel. I request permission to take him to the Wehrmacht Prison in The Hague where a case against him will be prepared.’
‘“Be prepared”?’ echoed Redenbacher indignantly. ‘This is Nazi Germany 1943,
