He himself took the head of the table. Rommel and Canaris on his right, Himmler and Ritter on the left. ‘So,’ he said. ‘Let’s begin. Food before business.’
He picked up the small silver bell at his right hand and rang it.
It was no more than ten minutes later that the Kubelwagen arrived at the main gate. Schellenberg leaned out, the sergeant who came forward took in his uniform and saluted.
‘The Fuhrer is expecting us,’ Schellenberg told him.
The sergeant looked uncertain. ‘I’ve orders to admit no one, General.’
‘Don’t be stupid, man,’ Schellenberg said. ‘That hardly applies to me.’ He nodded to Asa. ‘Drive on, HauptsturmFuhrer.’
They drove into the inner courtyard and stopped. Devlin said, ‘You know what the Spaniards call the instant when the bullfighter goes in for the kill and doesn’t know whether he’ll live or die? The moment of truth.’
‘Not now, Mr Devlin,’ Schellenberg said. ‘Let’s just keep going,’ and he marched up the wide steps and reached for the handle of the front door.
Hitler was enjoying himself, working his way through a plate of toast and fruit. ‘One thing about the French, they really do make rather excellent bread,’ he said and reached for another slice.
The door opened and an SS sergeant-major entered. It was Himmler who spoke to him. ‘I thought I made it clear we were not to be disturbed for any reason.’
‘Yes, Reichsfuhrer, but General Schellenberg is here with a HauptsturmFuhrer and some civilian. Says it is imperative he sees the Fuhrer.’
Himmler said, ‘Nonsense, you have your orders!’
Hitler cut in at once. ‘Schellenberg? Now I wonder what that can be about? Bring them in, Sergeant-Major.’
Schellenberg, Devlin and Asa waited in the hall by the door. The sergeant-major returned. ‘The Fuhrer will see you, General, but all weapons must be left here. I have my orders. It applies to everyone.’
‘Of course.’ Schellenberg took his pistol from its holster, slapping it down on the table.
Asa did the same and Devlin took the Luger from his coat pocket. ‘All contributions graciously given.’
The sergeant-major said, ‘If you would follow me, gentlemen.’ He turned and led the way across the hall.
When they went in, Hitler was still eating. Rommel and Canaris looked up curiously. Himmler was deathly pale.
Hitler said, ‘Now then, Schellenberg, what brings you here?’
‘I regret the intrusion, my Fuhrer, but a matter of the gravest urgency has come to my attention.’
‘And how urgent would that be?’ Hitler demanded.
‘A question of your very life, my Fuhrer, or should I say an attempt on your life.’
‘Impossible,’ Himmler said.
Hitler waved him to silence and glanced at Devlin and Asa Vaughan. ‘And who have we here?’
‘If I may explain? The ReichsFuhrer recently gave me the task of planning the safe return to the Reich of a certain Colonel Kurt Steiner who was held prisoner in the Tower of London for a while. Herr Devlin here and HauptsturmFuhrer Vaughan succeeded triumphantly in this matter, delivered Steiner to me at a small Luftwaffe base near here a short time ago.’ Hitler said to Himmler, ‘I knew nothing of this.’ Himmler looked quite wretched. ‘It was to be a surprise, my Fuhrer.’
Hitler turned again to Schellenberg. ‘This Colonel Steiner, where is he?’
‘He’ll be here soon. The thing is, I received an anonymous telephone call only a couple of hours ago. I regret to have to say this in the presence of the ReichsFuhrer, but whoever it was spoke of treachery, even within the ranks of the SS.’
Himmler was almost choking, ‘Impossible.’ ‘An officer named Berger was referred to.’ Hitler said, ‘But SturmbannFuhrer Berger is in charge of my security here. I’ve just had him promoted.’
‘Nevertheless, my Fuhrer, that is what I was told.’
‘Which just goes to show you can’t trust anyone,’
Horst Berger called and he moved out of the shadows at the end of the dining hall, an SS man on either side of him holding a machine pistol.
Steiner and Captain Kramer led the way up the hill to the Chateau in a Kubelwagen, the top down in spite of the rain. The paratroopers followed packed into two troop carriers. Steiner had a stick grenade tucked into the top of one of his jump boots and a Schmeisser ready in his lap.