‘Easily taken care of,’ Koenig said.
‘Excellent,’ Schellenberg told him. ‘Hauptsturm-Fuhrer Vaughan will remain and test-fly the plane now and as much as he wants for the rest of the day.
After that you will do whatever work is needed and have the aircraft delivered at the weekend, to the destination in France that my secretary will notify you of.’
‘Certainly, General,’ Koenig said.
Schellenberg turned to Asa. ‘Enjoy yourself while you can. I’ve arranged to borrow a Fieseler Stork from the Luftwaffe. We’ll fly down to Chernay and inspect the airstrip tomorrow. I’d also like to have a look at this Chateau de Belle Ile while we’re there.’
‘And you want me to do the flying?’ Asa said.
‘Don’t worry, son, we have every confidence in you,’ Devlin told him as he and Schellenberg went out.
In London, Dougal Munro was working at his desk when Jack Carter came in.
‘What is it, Jack?’
‘I’ve had a medical report from Sister Maria Palmer, sir, on Steiner.’
‘What’s her opinion?’
‘He’s still not a hundred per cent. Some residual infection. She asked me to help her get hold of some of this new wonder drug, penicillin. Apparently it cures just about everything, but it’s in short supply.’
‘Then get it for her, Jack, get it.’
‘Very well, sir. I’m sure I can.’
He hesitated at the door and Munro said impatiently, ‘For God’s sake, what is it, Jack? I’m up to my ears in work here, not least amongst my worries being a meeting at three of Headquarters staff at SHAEF presided over by General Eisenhower himself.’
‘Well, it’s the Steiner thing, sir. I mean, here he is, installed at the Priory. What happens now?’
‘Liam Devlin, if it is Devlin they choose, is hardly going to parachute into the courtyard at St Mary’s Priory tomorrow night, Jack, and if he did, so what? The only way we could guard Steiner any closer is by having an MP share his bed and that would never do.’
‘So we just wait, sir?’
‘Of course we do. If they intend to have a go, it’ll take weeks to organize, but that doesn’t matter. After all, we have Vargas in our pocket. Anything happens and we’ll be the first to know.’
‘Very well, sir.’
As Carter opened the door Munro added, ‘We’ve got all the time in the world, Jack. So has Steiner.’
When Steiner went into the chapel that evening he was escorted by Lieutenant Benson and a police corporal. The chapel was cold and damp, slightly eerie with the candles down at the altar and the ruby light of the sanctuary lamp. Instinctively he dipped his fingers in the holy water, a kind of regression to childhood, and went and sat on the end of a bench beside two nuns and waited his turn. The Mother Superior emerged from the confessional box, smiled at him and passed on. One of the nuns went in. After a while she came out and was replaced by the other.
When it came to Steiner’s turn, he went in and sat down, finding the darkness surprisingly comforting. He hesitated and then that ghost from childhood rose again and he said, almost automatically, ‘Bless me, Father.’
Father Martin knew it was him of course, had to. He said, ‘May the Lord Jesus bless you and help you tell your sins.’
‘Dammit, Father,’ Steiner exploded, ‘I don’t even know why I’m here. Maybe I just wanted to get out of that room.’
‘Oh, I’m sure God will forgive you that, my son.’ Steiner had an insane desire to laugh. The old man said, ‘Is there anything you want to say to me? Anything?’
And suddenly Steiner found himself saying, ‘My father. They butchered my father. Hung him up on a hook like a piece of meat.’
‘Who did this thing, my son?’
The Gestapo – the bloody Gestapo.’ Steiner could hardly breathe, his throat dry, eyes hot. ‘Hate, that’s all I feel, and revenge. I want revenge. Now what good is that to a man like you, Father? Am I not guilty of a very great sin?’
Father Martin said quietly, ‘May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you, and I, by his authority, absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit.’