'Two things Radl didn't know. It wasn't Churchill that weekend. He was on his way to the Tehran conference. It was his double. Some music hall actor.*
'Jesus, Joseph and Mary!' Devlin stopped playing.
'And more importantly, Kurt Steiner didn't die. He's alive and well and at present in the Tower of London which is why I want you to go to England for me. You see I've been entrusted with the task of getting him safely back to the Reich and I've little more than three weeks to do it in.'
Frear had entered the cafe a couple of minutes earlier and had recognized Schellenberg instantly. He retreated to a side booth where he summoned a waiter, ordered a beer, and watched as the two men went out into the garden at the rear. They sat at a table and looked down at the lights of the shipping in the Tagus.
'General, you've lost the war,' Devlin said. 'Why do you keep trying?'
'Oh, we all have to do the best we can until the damn thing is over. As I keep saying, it's difficult to jump off the merry-go-round once it's in motion. A game we play.'
'Like the old sod with the white hair in the end booth watching us now,' Devlin observed.
Schellenberg looked round casually. 'And who might he be?'
'Pretends to be in the port business. Name of Frear. My friends tell me he's military attache at the Brit Embassy here.'
'Indeed.' Schellenberg carried on calmly. 'Are you interested?'
'Now why would I be?'
'Money. You received twenty thousand pounds for your work on Operation Eagle paid into a Geneva account.'
'And me stuck here without two pennies to scratch myself with.'
'Twenty-five thousand pounds, Mr Devlin. Paid anywhere you wish.'
Devlin lit another cigarette and leaned back. 'What do you want him for? Why go to all the trouble?'
'A matter of security is involved.'
Devlin laughed harshly. 'Come off it, General. You want me to go jumping out of Dorniers again at five thousand feet in the dark like last time over Ireland and you try to hand me that kind of bollocks.'
'All right.' Schellenberg put up a hand defensively. 'There's a meeting in France on the twenty-first of January. The Fuhrer, Rommel, Canaris and Himmler. The Fuhrer doesn't know about Operation Eagle. The ReichsFuhrer would like to produce Steiner at that meeting. Introduce him.'
'And why would he want to do that?'
'Steiner's mission ended in failure, but he led German soldiers in battle on English soil. A hero of the Reich.'
'And all that old balls?'
'Added to which the ReichsFuhrer and Admiral Canaris do not always see eye to eye. To produce Steiner.' He shrugged. 'The fact that his escape had been organized by the SS...'
'Would make Canaris look bad?' Devlin shook his head. 'What a crew. I don't much care for any of them or that old crow Himmler's motives, but Kurt Steiner's another thing. A great man, that one. But the bloody Tower of London...'
He shook his head and Schellenberg said, 'They won't keep him there. My guess is they'll move him to one of their London safe houses.'
'And how can you find that out?'
'We have an agent in London working out of the Spanish Embassy.'
'Can you be sure he's not a double?'
'Pretty sure in this case.' Devlin sat there frowning and Schellenberg said, Thirty thousand pounds.' He smiled. 'I'm good at my job, Mr Devlin. I'll prepare a plan for you that will work.'
Devlin nodded. 'I'll think about it.' He stood up.
'But time is of the essence. I need to get back to Berlin.'
'And I need time to think, and it's Christmas. I've promised to go up country to a bull ranch a friend of mine called Barbosa runs. Used to be a great torero in Spain where they like sharp horns. I'll be back in three days.'
'But Mr Devlin,' Schellenberg tried again.
'If you want me, you'll have to wait.' Devlin clapped him on
'Jesus, Joseph and Mary!' Devlin stopped playing.
'And more importantly, Kurt Steiner didn't die. He's alive and well and at present in the Tower of London which is why I want you to go to England for me. You see I've been entrusted with the task of getting him safely back to the Reich and I've little more than three weeks to do it in.'
Frear had entered the cafe a couple of minutes earlier and had recognized Schellenberg instantly. He retreated to a side booth where he summoned a waiter, ordered a beer, and watched as the two men went out into the garden at the rear. They sat at a table and looked down at the lights of the shipping in the Tagus.
'General, you've lost the war,' Devlin said. 'Why do you keep trying?'
'Oh, we all have to do the best we can until the damn thing is over. As I keep saying, it's difficult to jump off the merry-go-round once it's in motion. A game we play.'
'Like the old sod with the white hair in the end booth watching us now,' Devlin observed.
Schellenberg looked round casually. 'And who might he be?'
'Pretends to be in the port business. Name of Frear. My friends tell me he's military attache at the Brit Embassy here.'
'Indeed.' Schellenberg carried on calmly. 'Are you interested?'
'Now why would I be?'
'Money. You received twenty thousand pounds for your work on Operation Eagle paid into a Geneva account.'
'And me stuck here without two pennies to scratch myself with.'
'Twenty-five thousand pounds, Mr Devlin. Paid anywhere you wish.'
Devlin lit another cigarette and leaned back. 'What do you want him for? Why go to all the trouble?'
'A matter of security is involved.'
Devlin laughed harshly. 'Come off it, General. You want me to go jumping out of Dorniers again at five thousand feet in the dark like last time over Ireland and you try to hand me that kind of bollocks.'
'All right.' Schellenberg put up a hand defensively. 'There's a meeting in France on the twenty-first of January. The Fuhrer, Rommel, Canaris and Himmler. The Fuhrer doesn't know about Operation Eagle. The ReichsFuhrer would like to produce Steiner at that meeting. Introduce him.'
'And why would he want to do that?'
'Steiner's mission ended in failure, but he led German soldiers in battle on English soil. A hero of the Reich.'
'And all that old balls?'
'Added to which the ReichsFuhrer and Admiral Canaris do not always see eye to eye. To produce Steiner.' He shrugged. 'The fact that his escape had been organized by the SS...'
'Would make Canaris look bad?' Devlin shook his head. 'What a crew. I don't much care for any of them or that old crow Himmler's motives, but Kurt Steiner's another thing. A great man, that one. But the bloody Tower of London...'
He shook his head and Schellenberg said, 'They won't keep him there. My guess is they'll move him to one of their London safe houses.'
'And how can you find that out?'
'We have an agent in London working out of the Spanish Embassy.'
'Can you be sure he's not a double?'
'Pretty sure in this case.' Devlin sat there frowning and Schellenberg said, Thirty thousand pounds.' He smiled. 'I'm good at my job, Mr Devlin. I'll prepare a plan for you that will work.'
Devlin nodded. 'I'll think about it.' He stood up.
'But time is of the essence. I need to get back to Berlin.'
'And I need time to think, and it's Christmas. I've promised to go up country to a bull ranch a friend of mine called Barbosa runs. Used to be a great torero in Spain where they like sharp horns. I'll be back in three days.'
'But Mr Devlin,' Schellenberg tried again.
'If you want me, you'll have to wait.' Devlin clapped him on
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