‘You know who I am?’ Schellenberg asked him.
‘Of course, General. An honour to meet you.’
Schellenberg held up a piece of paper which was actually some stationery from the hotel he’d stayed at in Vienna the previous week. ‘This message you received from your cousin, Vargas, at the London Embassy concerning the whereabouts of a certain Colonel Steiner. Have you discussed it with anyone?’
Rivera seemed genuinely shocked. ‘Not a living soul, General. Before God I swear this.’ He spread his hands dramatically. ‘On my mother’s life.’
‘Oh, I don’t think we need to bring her into it. She’s quite comfortable in that little villa you bought her in San Carlos.’ Rivera looked startled and Schellenberg said, ‘You see, there is nothing about you I don’t know. There is no place you could go where I couldn’t reach you. Do you understand me?’
‘Perfectly, General.’ Rivera was sweating.
‘You belong to the SD now and ReichsFuhrer Himmler, but it is me you answer to and no one else, so to start with: this message from your cousin in London. Why did you also send it to Admiral Can-aris?’
‘My cousin’s orders, General. In these matters there is always the question of payment and in this case…’ He shrugged.
‘He thought you might get paid twice?’ Schellenberg nodded. It made sense and yet he had learned never to take anything for granted in this game. ‘Tell me about your cousin.’
‘What can I say that the General doesn’t know? Jose’s parents died in the influenza epidemic just after the First World War. My parents raised him. We were like brothers. Went to the University of Madrid together. Fought in the same regiment in the Civil War. He’s one year older than me, thirty-three.’
‘He isn’t married, you are,’ Schellenberg said. ‘Does he have a girlfriend in London?’
Rivera spread his hands. ‘As it happens, Jose’s tastes do not run to women, General.’
‘I see.’ Schellenberg brooded about it for a moment. He had nothing against homosexuals, but such people were susceptible to blackmail and that was a weakness for anyone engaged in intelligence work. A point against Vargas, then.
‘You know London?’
Rivera nodded. ‘I served at the Embassy there with Jose in thirty-nine for one year. I left my wife in Madrid.’
‘I know London also,’ Schellenberg said. ‘Tell me about his life. Does he live at the Embassy?’
‘Officially he does, General, but for the purposes of his private life he has a small apartment, a flat as the English call it. He took a seven-year lease on the place while I was there so he must still have it.’
‘Where would that be?’
‘Stanley Mews, quite close to Westminster Abbey.’
‘And convenient for the Houses of Parliament. A good address. I’m impressed.’
‘Jose always did like the best.’
‘Which must be paid for.’ Schellenberg got up and went to the window. It was snowing lightly. He said, ‘Is he reliable, this cousin of yours? Any question of him ever having had any dealings with our British friends?’
Rivera looked shocked again. ‘General Schellenberg, I assure you, Jose, like me, is a good Fascist. We fought together with General Franco in the Civil War. We…’
‘All right, I was just making the point. Now listen to me carefully. We may well decide to attempt to rescue Colonel Steiner.’
‘From the Tower of London, senor?’ Rivera’s eyes bulged.
‘In my opinion, they’ll move him to some sort of safe house. May well have done so already. You will send a message to your cousin today asking for all possible information.’
‘Of course, General.’
‘Get on with it then.’ As Rivera reached the door Schellenberg added, ‘I need hardly say that if one word of this leaks out you will end up in the River Spree, my friend, and your cousin in the Thames. I have an extraordinarily long arm.’
‘General, I beg of you.’ Rivera started to protest again.
‘Spare me all that stuff about what a good Fascist you are. Just think about how generous I’m going to be. A much sounder basis for our relationship.’
Rivera departed and Schellenberg phoned down for his car, pulled on his overcoat and went out.