“And worse to come, Hans,” Gallagher told him. “They’ll be on the beaches soon, all those Tommies and Yanks, and heading for the Fatherland and the Russians coming the other way. You’ll be lucky to have a business at all. Those Reichsmarks you keep hoarding won’t be worth the paper they’re printed on.”
Klinger wiped a hand across his mouth. “Don’t, you’ll give me indigestion with talk like that so early in the morning.”
“Of course, this kind of money never loses its value.” Gallagher took a coin from his pocket, flicked it in the air, caught it and put it down on the table.
Klinger picked it up and there was awe on his face. “An English sovereign.”
“Exactly,” Gallagher said. “A gold sovereign.”
Klinger tried it with his teeth. “The real thing.”
“Would I offer you anything less?” Gallagher took a small linen bag from his pocket and held it up tantalizingly. “Another forty-nine in there.”
He placed the bag on the table and Klinger spilled the coins out and touched them with his fingers. “All right, what do you want?”
“A sailor’s uniform. Kriegsmarine,” Gallagher told him. “No big deal, as our American friends say. YouVe got stacks of them in store here.”
“Impossible,” Klinger said. “Absolutely.”
“I’d also expect boots, reefer coat and cap. We’re doing a play at the Parish Hall at St. Brelade. Very good part for a German sailor in it. He falls in love with this Jersey girl and her parents…..
“Stop this nonsense,” Klinger said. “Play? What play is this?”
“All right.” Gallagher shrugged. “If you’re not interested.”
He started to pick up the coins and Klinger put a hand on his arm. “You know the GFP at Silvertide would be very interested to know what you wanted with a German uniform, Herr General.”
“Of course they would, only we’re not going to tell them, are we? I mean, you don’t want them nosing around in here, Hans. All that booze and cigarettes in the cellar and the canned goods. And then there’s the coffee and the champagne.”
“Stop it!”
“I know it’s spring now,” Gallagher carried on relentlessly. “But it still can’t be too healthy on the Russian Front serving with a penal battalion.”
The threat was plain in his voice and the prospect too horrible to contemplate. Klinger was trapped, angry that he’d ever got involved with the Irishman. Too late to cry about that now. Better to give him what he wanted and hope for the best.
“All right, I hear you.” Klinger scooped up the sovereigns, put them in one of his tunic pockets. “IVe always loved the theater. It would be a privilege to assist.”
“I knew I could rely on you,” Gallagher told him. “Here are the sizes,” and he pushed a piece of paper across the desk.
At ten o’clock the cavalcade left September-tide and drove to Beaumont and Bel Royal and then along Victoria Avenue to St. Helier. The first stop was Elizabeth Castle. The tide was out and they parked the cars opposite the Grand Hotel and clambered on board an armored personnel carrier which followed the line of the causeway across the beach, its h. If-tracks churning sand.
“When the tide is in, the causeway is under water, Herr Field Marshal,” Necker told him.
Baum was in his element, filled with excitement at the turn events had taken. He could see Martineau seated at the other end of the truck talking to a couple of young officers and Muller and for a wild moment wondered whether he might have dreamed the events of the previous night. Martineau certainly played a most convincing Nazi. On the other hand, he didn’t do too bad a job on field marshals himself.
The carrier drove up from the causeway through the old castle gate and stopped. They all got out and Necker said, “The English fortified this place to keep out the French in Napoleon’s time. Some of the original guns are still here.”
“Now we fortify it further to keep out the English,” Baum said. “There’s irony for you.”
As he led the way along the road to the moat and the entrance to the inner court, Martineau moved to his shoulder. “As a matter of interest, Herr Field Marshal, Sir Walter Raleigh was governor here in the time of Queen Elizabeth Tudor.”