As he walked away, Greiser joined Muller. “What happened?”
“Nothing very much. He says he was on a tour of inspection. Says that in two hours of touring the west of the island, he was only stopped once-on Route du Sud.”
“Do you believe him, Herr Captain?”
“Oh, it fits well enough,” Muller said. “Unfortunately we’re back with that policeman’s nose of mine. He was in the area, that’s a fact, and I hate coincidences.”
“So what shall I do?”
“When they get poor old Willi’s body up, get it straight in for a postmortem. If he was awash with schnapps when he died, at least it will show and we’ll know where we are.”
“All right, Herr Captain, I’ll see to it.” Greiser went back to his motorcycle, mounted and rode away quickly.
Baum, talking to Helen and a couple of officers, turned as Martineau approached. “Ah, there you are, Vogel. I’m in your debt for suggesting my visit to such a delightful spot.”
“A pleasure, Heir Reid Marshal.”
“Come, we’ll walk awhile and you can tell me how things are in Berlin these days.” He took Helen’s hand and kissed it. “You’ll excuse us, Frau de Ville?”
“Of course, Herr Field Marshal.”
Martineau and Baum turned away and strolled across the grass toward the trees, taking the path that led to the rampart walk with its view of the bay. “This whole thing becomes more like a bad play by the minute,” Baum said.
“Yes, well we don’t have time right now to discuss what Brecht might have made of it. This is what happens. The mail plane leaves at eight. They expect you to fly out in the Storch at about the same time.”
“So?”
“I’ll turn up at Septembertide at seven. I’ll have Sarah with me, also Kelso in Kriegsmarine uniform and heavily bandaged.”
“And how does Hofer react?”
“He does exactly as he’s told. IVe got a syringe and a strong sedative, courtesy of the doctor who’s been treating Kelso. An armful of that and hell be out for hours. We’ll lock him in his bedroom.”
“When does this happen?”
“I’d say the best time would be at the end of your tour when you return to Septembertide. Probably around five o’clock. Get rid of Necker and the others, but ask me to stay for a drink.”
“But how do I explain his absence at the airport?”
“Simple. Necker will be there with his staff to bid you a fond farewell. It’s at that point you announce you intend to fly out in the mail plane. You can’t arrange it earlier because Hofer would want to know what you were up to. You tell Necker that the chief medical officer at the hospital has made representations on behalf of this sailor, badly wounded in the convoy attack the other night and in urgent need of specialist treatment on the mainland. As you’re using the bigger plane, you’re giving me and Sarah a lift.”
“And Hofer?”
“Tell Necker that Hofer is following behind. That he’s going to fly out in the Storch on his own.”
“And you think all this will work?”
“Yes,” Martineau said, “because it’s actually rather simple. I could have tried something like it without you, using my letter from the Reichsfuhrer, but perhaps the Luftwaffe commanding officer here would have insisted on getting permission from Luftwaffe HQ in Normandy.” He smiled. “But to Erwin Rommel, nobody says no.”
Baum sighed, took the cigarette Martineau offered and fitted it into the holder. “I’ll never get a role as good as this again. Never.”
0, n the slab in the postmortem room at the general hospital, Willi Kleist’s corpse looked even more appalling. Major Speer stood waiting while the two medical corporals who were assisting him carefully cut away the burned clothing. Greiser, standing by the door, watched in fascinated horror.
Speer turned to look at him. “If you feel like being sick, the bucket is over there. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Thank you, Herr Major. Captain Muller asked me to tell you how much he appreciates your attending to him personally.”
“I understand, Sergeant. Discretion, in a case like this, is of the utmost importance. So, we are ready?”