“We were surprised that you chose to fly in during daylight hours, Herr Field Marshal,” Necker said.
“And with no fighter escort,” Muller added.
“IVe always believed in doing the unexpected thing,”
Baum told them. “And you must remember we had Ober-leutnant Sorsa as pilot, one of our gallant Finnish comrades. He normally flies a JU88S night fighter and has thirty-eight Lancasters to his credit, which explains his Knight’s Cross.” Sorsa, a small, vital man of twenty-five with very fair hair, looked suitably modest, and Baum carried on, “I must also tell you that we flew across the sea so low that we were in more danger from the waves than anything the RAF might have come up with.”
There was a general laugh and he excused himself and went off to the toilet followed by Hofer.
Martineau had been standing against the wall, observing everything and drinking very little. Muller approached. “A remarkable man.”
“Oh, yes.” Martineau nodded. “One of the few real heroes of the war. And how is your Inspector Kleist?”
“A stupid man,” Martineau observed. “But then, I think you know that. More champagne?”
In the toilet, Baum checked himself in the mirror and said to Hofer, “How am I doing?”
“Superbly.” Hofer was exhilarated. “There are times when I really think it’s the old man himself talking.”
“Good.” Baum combed his hair and adjusted the cheek pads. “What about the SS colonel. I didn’t expect that.”
“Vogel?” Hofer was serious for a moment. “I was talking to Necker about him. He just turned up in the island yesterday, backed by a special pass signed by Himmler and the Ftihrer himself. So far he’s given no information as to why he’s here.”
“I don’t know,” Baum said. “Those bastards always make me feel funny. You’re certain his presence here has nothing to do with us?”
“How could it be? Army Group B Headquarters only released the news that you were in Jersey an hour ago. So, no need to panic, and back to the fray.”
Necker said, “If you wouldn’t mind coming into the CO’s office, Field Marshal. General von Schmettow is on the line from Guernsey.” Baum sat carelessly on the edge of the desk and took the receiver offered to him. “My dear von Schmettow, it’s been a long time.” General von Schmettow said, “An unexpected honor for my entire command. Heine is quite shocked and wishes to return at once.” “Tell him if he does, it’s the firing squad for him,” Baum said good-humoredly. “Young Necker can show me around just as well. A fine officer. No, this suits me perfectly.” “Do you intend to visit Guernsey?” “Not this time. I return to France tomorrow.” “May we expect you at some future date?” The line was crackling now.
“Of course, and before long, I promise you. Best wishes.” Baum put down the receiver and turned to Necker. “To work. Coastal defenses, that’s what I wish to see, so let’s get started.”
In the garden at de Ville Place Sarah sat on the wall looking out over the bay and Guido leaned beside her, smoking a cigarette. “Sarah,” he said in English. “It’s as if I have to get to know you all over again.” He shook his head. “Whoever told you that you could pass yourself off as a French tart was gravely mistaken. I knew there was something wrong with you from the start.”
“And Harry? Did you think there was something wrong about him?”
“No. He worries me, that one. He plays Vogel too well.” “1 know.” She shivered. “I wonder how he’s getting on?” “He’ll be fine. The last person I’d ever worry about. You like him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said. “You could put it that way.” Before they could take the conversation an¯ further, Helen and Gallagher crossed the grass to join Jiem. “What are you two up to?” Helen demanded. “Nothing much.” Sarah told her. “We were wondering how Harry was getting on.”
“The devil looks after his own,” Gallagher said. “He can take care of himself, that one. More important at the moment is a decision on what to do with Kelso. I think we should move him from the chamber to my cottage.”