“Adolf Hitler!” they chorused.
Baum tossed his glass into the fire, and with a stirrring of excitement, they all followed him. Then they applauded again, forming two lines as he walked out, followed by Hofer.
“Rather heavy on the glasses, I should have thought,” Hofer said as they drove bark to Cressy where Rommel had established temporary headquarters at the old castle there.
“You didn’t approve?” Baum said.
“I didn’t say that. Actually, the speech was rather good.”
“If the Herr Major will excuse my saying so, it was heavily over the top, to use theatrical vernacular,” Baum told him.
“I take your point,” Hofer said. “On the other hand, it’s exactly what they wanted to hear.”
Crazy, Baum thought. Aw I the only ntnu- tnnn left alive? But by then, they were drawing into the courtyard of the castle. He went up the steps fast, acknowledging the salutes, Hofer trailing him, all the way up to the suite on the second floor.
Rommel had locked himself in the study and only came out on Hofer’s knock. “How did it go?”
“Perfect,” Hofer said. “Passed with flying colors. You should have heard the speech you made.”
“Excellent.” Rommel nodded. “Everything progresses in the Channel Islands? You spoke to von Schmettow in Guernsey?”
“Personally. Herr Field Marshal. He’s also had his orders in writing. As you were told by Naval HQ at Cherbourg, they do most of their traveling between the islands by night these days because of the enemy air superiority in the area. So they will travel from Jersey to Guernsey on Thursday night for the conference, returning on Sunday night.”
“Good,” Rommel said. “Which still leaves you and Berger flying in out of the dawn in a Fiesler Storch with all thai RAF superiority in the area that you speak of ” He turned to Baum. “What do you think about that. Berger?”
“I think it could be interesting if the Herr Major and 1 went down in flames into the sea. The Desert Fox is dead ” He shrugged. “That could lead to some strange possibilities, you must admit, Herr Field Marshal.”
Gerard Cresson sat in his wheelchair at the table in (he sitting room and refilled the glasses with red wine “No. I hate to dispel your illusions,” he said to Sarah. “But out in Jersey, just as in France and every other occupied country in Europe, the real enemy is the informer. Without them the Gestapo couldn’t operate.”
“But I was told there weren’t any Gestapo in Jersey,” Sarah said.
“Officially they have a Geheime Feldpolizei setup there. That’s Secret Field Police, and they’re supposed to be controlled by the Abwehr. Military Intelligence. The whole thing is part of the ruling-by-kindness policy, a cosmetic exercise aimed at fooling the people. The implication is that because you’re British we won’t sick the Gestapo onto you.”
“Which is shit,” Sophie said as she came in from the kitchen with fresh coffee, “because several of the men working for the GFP in Jersey are Gestapo operatives on loan.”
“Do you know where they are?” Sarah asked.
“A hotel at Havre des Pas called Silvertide. You know it?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. I used to go swimming at Havre des Pas when I was a child.”
“Gestapo, Secret Field Police, SD, Abwehr. Wherever you go, whoever the man is who knocks on the door, it’s the Gestapo to the poor devil being arrested.”
“Exactly the same in Jersey,” Gerard told him. “To the locals, they’re Gestapo and that’s it. Mind you, it’s a Mickey Mouse operation compared to what goes on in Lyons or Paris, but watch out for a Captain Muller. He’s temporarily in command, and his chief aide, an inspector called Kleist.”
“Are they SS?”
“1 don’t know. Probably not. They’ve never been seen in uniform. Probably seconded from the police in some big city. Full of themselves, like all flics. Out to prove something.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to be in the SS to be in the Gestapo. You don’t even have to be a member of the Nazi Party.”
“True.” Martineau said. “Anyway, how do you rate our chances of bringing Kelso over from Jersey?”