End of Spies, Alex Gerlis [important of reading books txt] 📗

‘Yes, Comrade: he was sentenced to death on… here we are… Tuesday the fourteenth of August and the sentence was confirmed by Comrade Orlov on the third of September.’

‘Why the delay, Comrade?’

‘The governor said he was sorry but there was a backlog and he’d been in Moscow for a meeting and—’

‘Don’t worry, my friends here will be pleased you didn’t execute the prisoner straight away. But that was over three weeks ago, and he’s still alive?’

It was Orlov who replied. ‘There is always a two-week period between my confirming the sentence and it being carried out. During this time the prisoner has the right to make an appeal, though an appeal will only be considered if it is based on a factual error in the conviction. In the case of Prisoner Schweitzer, he claimed it was a case of mistaken identity, and it took us some time to get further evidence from Paris. His execution has now been scheduled for Monday the first of October.’

‘And the prisoner knows this?’

‘Of course, Comrade.’

Gurevich had been translating what the two officers said into German. Prince said they’d need to question Schweitzer urgently. ‘He’s the only person we are aware of who knows the true identity of the Nazi we are looking for.’

Orlov had an owl-like demeanour: his head remained quite still but his eyes darted around, taking everything in, and he came across as wise and unhurried. He said nothing for a while as he removed a cigarette from a packet on his desk and lit it, all the while without taking his eyes off his visitors.

‘I would say no.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I would strongly suggest you don’t question the prisoner on this topic.’

‘But Comrade,’ said Gurevich, ‘I have the authority to order it and I—’

‘Yes, Comrade, of course I know that. What I mean is I would not recommend it. Prisoner Schweitzer is typical of the non-German Nazis we see here – they tend to be more fanatical and stubborn than the Germans. If you go in now and question him about the man you’re after, it will be counter-productive. He won’t say anything. What do you think, Kiselyov?’

Kiselyov looked nervous again but sounded confident in his reply. ‘I would agree: I would say Prisoner Schweitzer is no fool. He knows he’s about to be executed so why should he tell us anything?’

‘Because he has nothing to lose?’ Hanne sounded as if she was negotiating.

‘But he hates us – he hates communists and is still a committed Nazi. If you ask him about the man you’re hunting, he’ll just clam up.’

The room fell silent. The governor lit another cigarette and Gurevich drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Through the open window came the sound of orders being shouted and large numbers of people moving. In the distance a fighter plane flew low over the northern suburbs.

‘There is another possibility,’ said Gurevich, leaning back with his eyes half shut as he spoke, ‘but we need to buy some time. Remind me when you said Schweitzer is due to be executed?’

‘Monday morning, Comrade sir. The executions always take place at dawn. We use a firing range at the barracks to the north of this complex.’

‘We must delay that.’

‘He’ll suspect something.’

Gurevich said nothing for a minute or so and then nodded his head. ‘Who is the most senior Soviet official in Moscow, Comrade Orlov?’

‘Marshal Zhukov, of course, sir.’

‘That’s right: so how about you wait until Sunday and then offer Prisoner Schweitzer the option of applying for a… what shall we call it… a petition to the Soviet commander? How does that sound?’

‘I’m afraid I’ve never heard of it, Comrade sir.’

‘Of course you haven’t, Comrade Orlov! I’ve just made it up, but it will buy us time and will enable us to find a way of getting the information out of the prisoner. Don’t look so worried, I’ll square it with Marshal Zhukov’s office.’

‘This way of getting the information we need.’ Prince was looking worried. ‘Did you have something in mind?’

‘I have an idea actually.’ Hanne stood up and walked over to the window, where she gazed at the parade ground below. When she turned round, she was silhouetted against the late-afternoon sun. ‘I was thinking about it because we were asked the other day about Irène – about whether we trusted her. I said I did, that my time in Ravensbrück had taught me how to spot a stooge.’

‘I’m not sure I understand.’ Gurevich had leaned forward, curious.

Hanne returned to her seat. ‘We find someone we can trust but who will also be someone Schweitzer instinctively trusts.’ She paused while Gurevich translated into Russian for the governor. ‘And that person tricks Schweitzer into revealing the name.’

‘Ah – I understand you. In Russian we have a word for this type of person; we call it a provokator! Well done, Hanne, that is a very clever idea!’ Gurevich clapped his hands, and for the first time the governor looked animated and allowed himself a smile. ‘Of course, we need to find this provokator; we don’t have long.’

‘Actually,’ said Prince, ‘I think I know the ideal person.’

Chapter 11

Berlin, September 1945

In the minutes approaching midnight on Sunday 30 September, the block containing the condemned cells at the Hohenschönhausen prison complex in Berlin was as silent as anywhere in a prison housing thousands of inmates could ever be.

It took a while for the sound of the footsteps of two men as they marched across a courtyard and into Block D to become apparent. The silence was disturbed by a series of doors being unlocked and then secured again, and the same footsteps moving along the stone floor until they reached an office on the second floor.

Kiselyov, the officer in charge of that section, was waiting nervously when the two men walked in. He stubbed out his cigarette and stood to attention, but the governor told him to sit. Kiselyov recognised the other man, the commissar from the NKGB headquarters in Mitte, no less, the