‘As little as possible,’ Canaris told him and added with some irony, ‘Remember he’s a great man and behave accordingly.’
The door opened and the aide appeared. ‘Gentlemen, our Fiihrer will see you now.’
The room was a place of shadows, and Hitler sat at the enormous desk with only the light of a single brass lamp. He was reading the file, closed it and looked up.
‘Still brilliant, Herr Admiral. An absolutely first-class job.’
‘Captain Ritter really deserves all the credit.’
‘No, Herr Admiral, I think after all this that Major Ritter would be more appropriate. In fact, I warn you that I could well steal him for my own staff.’
He stood up and Ritter said the obvious thing. ‘You do me too much honour, my Fiihrer.’
Hitler came round the corner of his desk and approached Muller. ‘Professor Muller, isn’t it? An amazing discovery and you sacrifice it for the sake of the Reich.’
And Muller, shaking almost uncontrollably, said exactly the right thing. ‘For you, my Fiihrer, for you.’
Hitler clapped him on the shoulders. ‘A great day is coming, gentlemen, the greatest in Germany’s history.’ He walked slowly away and the desk lamp threw his shadow across the huge map of the world. He stood there, arms folded. ‘You may go, gentlemen.’
Canaris nodded to the other two, jerked his head and led the way out.
Later, after dropping Muller off at the University, Canaris told the driver to take them back to Tirpitz Ufer. As they turned into a side street they came to a cafe on the corner, windows lighted. E
Canaris Cleaned forward. ‘Stop here.’ He turned to i
Ritter. ‘A nightcap, coffee and schnapps. We’ll toast your promotion, Major.’
‘My pleasure, Herr Admiral.’
The cafe was almost deserted and the proprietor was overwhelmed. He ushered them to a booth by the window and hurriedly took the order. Canaris pulled out his cigarette case and proffered it to Ritter, who took one and gave him a light.
‘He was pleased,’ the Admiral said and blew out smoke. ‘Muller was a mess though. He’s not strong enough.’
‘I agree,’ Ritter said. ‘We need a professional to back him up.’
The proprietor brought coffee and schnapps on a tray and Canaris waved him away. ‘You’ll have to find somebody, an old Abwehr hand. Somebody reliable.’
‘No problem, Herr Admiral.’
‘You know this thing is so simple it could work,’ Canaris said and poured schnapps from the bottle into two glasses.
‘I agree,’ Ritter said.
Canaris nodded. ‘There’s only one problem.’
‘And what’s that, Herr Admiral?’
‘It won’t win us this coming war, my friend, nothing can do that. You see, Hans, we’re all going straight to hell, but here’s to your promotion anyway.’
He raised the glass of schnapps and drained it at a single swallow.
DAHREIN
August 1939
THREE
THE WIND, BLOWING across the Gulf from Africa, still carried some of the warmth of the day to Kane as he stood on the deck of the launch, listening.
There was no moon and yet the sky seemed to be alive, to glow with the incandescence of millions of stars. He breathed deeply, inhaling the freshness, and followed a school of flying-fish with his eyes as they curved out of the sea in a shower of phosphorescent water.
A door opened and light from the saloon momentarily flooded out as Piroo, the Hindu deck-hand, came up the companionway with a mug of steaming coffee.
Kane sipped some of it gratefully. ‘That’s good.’
‘The Kantara is late tonight, Sahib,’ Piroo said.
Kane nodded and checked his watch. ‘Almost two a.m. I wonder what the old devil O’Hara is playing at?’
‘Perhaps it’s the whisky again.’
Kane grinned. ‘More than likely.’
As he finished his coffee, Piroo touched him on the arm. ‘I think she comes, Sahib.’
Kane listened intently. At first he was conscious only of the slap of the waves against the hull of the launch and the whisper of the wind, and then he became aware of a muffled, gentle throbbing across the water. In the distance, he saw the green pin-point of light that was the starboard navigation light of the Kantara.
‘Not before time,’ he said softly.