On the other hand, if he could procure an assignment in Budapest, as now seemed likely-When there had been hints in Berlin that such an assignment might be available, he had made it as clear as he could that he was prepared to make whatever sacrifice asked of him.
“I was rather afraid, my dear Countess, that if I suggested in any way how pleased I would be to return to Budapest, they would send me to Helsinki.
Or Tokyo.” She’d laughed, not because she was expected to, but because she liked his humor. She hoped he would be assigned to Budapest.
“If the Gods smile on me,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, “might I call?”
“I would be pleased to receive you,” she said.
She had a strange feeling, Did his desire to call upon her have anything to do with her? Or was there something official in his interest?
When she returned to the Schloss–tired, sweaty, and in desperate need of a drink and a bath–she saw von Heurten-Mitnitz having a conversation in the formal drawing room with Baron von Fulmar. The Baron was visibly uncomfortable, which made the Countess wonder again if there was more to Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz’s friendship with Standartenfuhrer Muller than their escape from North Africa.
Two days before, Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz had telephoned Baron Karl von Fulmar in his offices at Hoescht am Main, an industrial suburb of Frankfurt am Main.
Von Heurten-Mitnitz expressed his condolences then over the death of Oberstleutnant Baron von Steighofen and announced that the press of other duties made it impossible for the Foreign Minister to personally attend the Baron’s memorial service. Thus he had been delegated as the Foreign Minister’s personal representative.
“The family will be honored, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz,” Baron Fulmar had replied.
“I deeply regret intruding on your grief, Herr Baron,” von Heurtenmitnitz went on, “but do you think that while I am in Hesse, you might spare me, say, an hour of your time?” The Baron von Fulmar hesitated.
“Either at your office, Herr Baron,” von Heurten-Mitnitz went on, “or at the Schloss. Whichever would be most convenient.”
“I gather this is of an official nature?” the Baron asked.
“Let us say I would like to discuss something with you personally,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.4, Certainly not over the telephone.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz,” the Baron said.
“And I think it would be most convenient to do so at Schloss Steighofen.”
“Then I look forward to meeting you, Herr Baron, at the Schloss,” von Heurten-Mjtnjtz said, and once again, my most sincere condolences.” The Baron von Fulmar was apprehensive that a highly placed official of the Foreign Ministry wanted to talk to him privately. His concern took a quantum jump when von Heurten-Mitnitz arrived at Schloss Steighofen accompanied by a Standartenfuhrer
SS-SD.
And the next morning he actually broke into a sweat when a servant delivered von Heurten-Mitnitz’s card, HELM UT VON HEURTEN-MITNITZ BRIGADE FUHRER SS-SD The Foreign Ministry Berlin On the back of the card was written, “May I suggest the drawing room at 9, 30? von Heurten-Mitnitz.” The Baron, a large-boned, florid-faced man, whose thinning hair was cut so short that the veins in the skin over his skull were visible, was kept waiting until 9, 40 before von Heurten-Mitnitz showed up.
The formal drawing room was not a pleasant place. The furniture was old (but not good), heavy, and comfortless. There was one well-worn and colorless Persian carpet. And dark portraits of barons past adorned the walls. The Baron elected to stand rather than torture himself on any of the chairs or couches.
“How good of you to find the time for me, Herr Baron,” von Heurtenmitnitz said, offe ring his hand.
“How may I be of service, Herr Brigadefuhrer?” the Baron asked, laying the card von Heurten-Mitnitz had sent him on a table. The act was meant to look casual.
“Oh, God, did I send you one of those?” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, chagrined. “I didn’t mean to. I usually send them to people who are impressed with that sort of thing. I would much prefer, if you don’t mind, that you forget that Brigadefuhrer title. My association with the SS-SD is hardly more than an official fiction.”