‘Neither can I,’ Romero told him and got up. ‘You can take us back now.’
As they scrambled into the motor boat da Gama tried the usual tack. ‘Of course, a number of people are interested.’
The motor boat pulled away and Romero said, ‘Drop the sales pitch, my friend, just draw up the contract. I’ll give you my lawyer’s name, we sign tomorrow and you’ll receive a cheque for your asking price. Satisfied?’
Da Gama looked astonished. ‘But of course, Señor.’
Romero took out a cigarette and accepted a light from Noval. He looked back at the Catalina and blew out a long plume of smoke.
‘Looks like we’re in business, boys,’ he said.
Baron Oswald von Hoyningen-Heune was Minister to the German Legation in Lisbon. An aristocrat and career diplomat of the old school, he was no Nazi and, like most of his staff, was thankful to be as far away from Berlin as possible. Initially wary of the strange Spaniard who was a Hauptsturmführer in the SS, and resigned to following orders from Berlin, he had been pleasantly surprised, had taken to Romero.
He rose to greet him now as the Spaniard entered his office. ‘My dear Romero, it went well?’
‘Couldn’t have been better. Da Gama will be in touch with the lawyer you gave me. You provide the funding and we conclude tomorrow. I’ll need to speak to Captain Ritter at Abwehr Headquarters at once, by the way.’
‘Of course.’ The Baron reached for the red secure phone on his desk and placed the call. ‘It shouldn’t take long.’ He stood up. ‘Cognac?’
‘Why not?’
Romero lit a cigarette and sat on one of the sofas. The baron handed him a glass and sat opposite. ‘All very intriguing, this business.’
‘And also highly secret.’
‘But of course. I’m not prying. In fact, I’d rather not know.’ He raised his glass. ‘But I’ll drink to your success anyway.’
At that moment the red phone rang. Romero said, ‘With your permission?’
‘But of course. I’ll leave you to it.’
The Baron went out and Romero picked up the phone. ‘Hans, is that you?’
‘Who else?’ Ritter said. ‘How did it go?’
‘Perfect,’ Romero told him. ‘A superb aircraft. I couldn’t be more pleased. Tell the Admiral we’re on our way.’
Ritter knocked on the door and went in. Canaris was drinking tea, one of the dachshunds on his lap. He looked up.
‘What is it, Hans?’
‘Romero has just spoken to me from Lisbon, Herr Admiral. The Catalina is perfect and the sale will be concluded tomorrow.’
‘Excellent.’ Canaris nodded. ‘Do an additional report bringing everything up to date and I’ll make an appointment for us to see the Führer.’
‘At once, Herr Admiral.’
As Ritter limped to the door, Canaris called, ‘Oh, and Hans.’
‘Yes, Herr Admiral?’
‘We’ll take Muller with us.’
The summons came sooner than they had expected and took them to the Chancellery for an appointment at ten o’clock that night. They picked up Muller at the University on the way and the news that he was to meet the Führer shocked him completely.
When they reached the reception area of Hitler’s suite the aide on duty rose to greet them. ‘I understand you have a report for the Führer, Herr Admiral.’
‘That’s right,’ Canaris said.
The aide held out his hand. ‘He would like to read it before seeing you.’
‘Of course.’
Canaris gave him the file; the aide opened the door and went in. Canaris nodded to the other two and they sat down.
Muller was trembling slightly and Canaris said, ‘Are you all right?’
‘For God’s sake, how do you expect me to feel, Admiral. This is the Führer we’re talking about. What do I say?’
‘As little as possible,’ Canaris told him and added with some irony, ‘Remember he’s a great man and behave accordingly.’
The door opened and the aide appeared. ‘Gentlemen, our Führer will see you now.’
The room was a place of shadows, and Hitler sat at the enormous desk with only the light of a single brass lamp. He was reading the file, closed it and looked up.
‘Still brilliant, Herr Admiral. An absolutely first-class job.’
‘Captain Ritter really deserves all the credit.’
‘No, Herr Admiral, I think after all this that Major Ritter would be more appropriate. In fact, I warn you that I could well steal him for my own staff.’
He stood up and Ritter said the obvious thing. ‘You do me too much honour, my Führer.’
Hitler came round the corner of his desk and approached Muller. ‘Professor Muller, isn’t it? An amazing discovery and you sacrifice it for the sake of the Reich.’
And Muller, shaking almost uncontrollably, said exactly the right thing. ‘For you, my Führer, for you.’
Hitler clapped him on the shoulders. ‘A great day is coming, gentlemen, the greatest in Germany’s history.’ He walked slowly away and the desk lamp threw his shadow across the huge map of the world. He stood there, arms folded. ‘You may go, gentlemen.’
Canaris nodded to the other two, jerked his head and led the way out.
Later, after dropping Muller off at the University, Canaris told the driver to take them back to Tirpitz Ufer. As they turned into a side street they came to a café on the corner, windows lighted.
Canaris leaned forward. ‘Stop here.’ He turned to Ritter. ‘A nightcap, coffee and schnapps. We’ll toast your promotion, Major.’
‘My pleasure, Herr Admiral.’
The café was almost deserted and the proprietor was overwhelmed. He ushered them to a booth by the window and hurriedly took the order. Canaris pulled out his cigarette case and proffered it to Ritter, who took one and gave him a light.
‘He was pleased,’ the Admiral said and blew out smoke. ‘Muller was a mess though. He’s not strong enough.’
‘I agree,’ Ritter said. ‘We need a professional to back him up.’
The proprietor brought coffee and schnapps on a tray and Canaris waved him away. ‘You’ll have to find somebody, an old Abwehr hand. Somebody reliable.’
‘No problem, Herr Admiral.’
‘You know this thing is so simple it could work,’ Canaris said and poured schnapps from the bottle into two glasses.
‘I agree,’ Ritter said.
Canaris nodded. ‘There’s only one problem.’
‘And what’s that, Herr Admiral?’
‘It won’t win us this coming war, my friend, nothing can do that. You see, Hans, we’re all going straight to hell, but here’s to your promotion anyway.’
He raised the glass of schnapps and drained it at a single swallow.
3
The wind, blowing across the Gulf from Africa, still carried some of the warmth of the day to Kane as he stood on the deck of the launch, listening.