‘Of course, Reichsfiihrer.’
‘Operation Eagle, however brilliantly conceived, ended in failure, and who would wish to take failure into the Fiihrer’s office and place it on his desk?’ Before Schellenberg could reply, he carried on. ‘Which brings me to this report which has reached me from Vargas in London via his cousin here in Berlin, the man Rivera.’
He handed across a signal flimsy and Schellenberg glanced at it. ‘Incredible!’ he said. ‘Kurt Steiner alive.’
‘And in the Tower of London.’ Himmler took the signal back.
They won’t keep him there for very long,’ Schellenberg said, ‘It may sound dramatic, but the Tower isn’t really suitable to house high-security prisoners long term. They’ll move him to some safe house just as they did with Hess.’
‘Have you any other opinion in the matter?’
‘Only that the British will keep quiet about the fact that he’s in their hands.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Operation Eagle almost succeeded.’
‘But Churchill wasn’t Churchill,’ Himmler reminded him. ‘Our Intelligence people discovered that.’
‘Of course, Reichsfiihrer, but German paratroopers did land on English soil and fought a bloody battle. If the story was publicized, the effect on the British people at this stage of the war would be appalling. The very fact that it’s SOE and their Brigadier Munro who are handling the matter, is further proof.’
‘You know the man?’
‘Know of him only, Reichsfiihrer. A highly capable intelligence officer.’
Himmler said, ‘My sources indicate that Rivera has also passed this news on to Canaris. How do you think he will react?’
‘I’ve no idea, Reichsfiihrer.’
‘You can see him when you get back to Berlin. Find out. My opinion is that he will do nothing. He certainly won’t go running to the Fiihrer.’ Himmler examined another sheet in front of him. Til never understand men like Steiner. A war hero. Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaves, a brilliant soldier, and yet he ruined his career, risked failure, everything, for the sake of some little Jewish bitch he tried to help in Warsaw. It was only Operation Eagle that saved him and his men from the penal unit they were serving in.’ He put the sheet down. ‘The Irishman, of course, is a different matter.’
‘Devlin, Reichsfiihrer?’
‘Yes, a thoroughly obnoxious man. You know what the Irish are like, Schellenberg? Everything a joke.’
‘I must say that from all reports he seems to know his business.’
‘I agree, but then he was only in it for the money. Someone was singularly careless to allow him to walk out of that hospital in Holland.’
‘I agree, Reichsfiihrer.’
‘My reports indicate that he’s in Lisbon now,’ Himmler said. He pushed another sheet across. ‘You’ll find the details there. He’s trying to get to America, but no money. According to that, he’s been working as a barman.’
Schellenberg examined the signal quickly then said,
‘What would you like me to do on this matter, Reichsfuhrer?’
‘You’ll return to Berlin tonight, fly to Lisbon tomorrow. Persuade this rogue Devlin to return with you. I shouldn’t think that would prove too difficult. Radl gave him twenty thousand pounds for taking part in Operation Eagle. It was paid into a numbered account in Geneva.’ Himmler smiled thinly. ‘He’ll do anything for money. He’s that sort. Offer him the same _ more if you have to. I’ll authorize payments up to thirty thousand pounds.’
‘But for what, Reichsfuhrer ?’
‘Why, to arrange Steiner’s escape, of course. I should have thought that’s obvious. The man is a hero of the Reich, a true hero. We can’t leave him in British hands.’
Remembering how General Steiner had met his end in the Gestapo cellars at Prinz Albrechtstrasse, it seemed likely to Schellenberg that Himmler might have other reasons. He said calmly, ‘I take your point, Reichsfuhrer.’
‘You know the confidence I repose in you, General,’ Himmler said. ‘And you’ve never let me down. I leave the whole matter in your capable hands.’ He passed an envelope across. ‘You’ll find a letter of authorization in there that should take care of all contingencies.’
Schellenberg didn’t open it. Instead he said, ‘You said you wanted me to go to Lisbon tomorrow, Reichsfuhrer. May I remind you it’s Christmas Eve?’