ging like canaries about what they did to the workers at Peenemünde.”
“But if I had,” Cronley said, “then Thomas would have had movies of two guys with broken noses, black eyes, and lots of bruises. That would have been counterproductive to our purpose of the film. And besides, don’t take offense, Konrad, but I think Captain DuPres is a better interrogator than you are.”
Bischoff didn’t say anything, but he looked at Gehlen, obviously hoping Gehlen would defend him.
“I have to admit, Captain DuPres,” Gehlen said, smiling, “that your handling of those two Peenemünde Krauts was beyond reproach.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Please give my regards to Commandant Fortin when you see him,” Gehlen said, as he got to his feet.
“Mon General, I will be honored to do so.”
“How did you do, ladies?” Cronley asked Claudette Colbert and Florence Miller, who had both recorded the filmed interview in shorthand.
“A couple of corrections,” Colbert replied. “We can have it all fixed in an hour.”
“Great!”
Gehlen said: “Before I go back to the Compound, Jim, if it would be all right with you, I’d like to have a look at Lazarus.”
“And so would I,” Mannberg said.
“I’ll walk you over to the chapel, sir,” Cronley said. “Can I ask . . .”
“Why? I don’t know why. Simple curiosity, perhaps. Or one of those . . . what do you call them? ‘Feelings in the gut.’”
—
One of Tiny’s Troopers pulled the door to Lazarus’s cell open and motioned Gehlen to go in.
Cronley saw Lazarus sitting on a wooden chair as Mannberg followed Gehlen into the cell. He was examining what was obviously a just-changed bandage on his shoulder.
“Ach, du lieber Gott!” Mannberg exclaimed softly.
Lazarus rose from the chair, came to attention, and snapped a bow.
“The Herr General will understand that I am not at all happy to see him,” Lazarus said.
“Franz,” Gehlen said, “isn’t the attempted kidnapping of two American enlisted women a bit beneath the dignity of an SS-brigadeführer?”
“One does, Herr General, what one must to survive. May I suggest the Herr General knows that?”
“Forgive my bad manners, Jim,” Gehlen said. “May I introduce former SS-Brigadeführer Baron Franz von Dietelburg?”
“I’ll be a sonofabitch!” Cronley said.
“I have the privilege of Captain Cronley’s acquaintance,” von Dietelburg said.
“The last we heard of SS-Brigadeführer von Dietelburg, Jim,” Mannberg said, “he had been marched off to Siberia with General von Paulus after the debacle at Stalingrad.”
“To judge by that suit of clothing, Ludwig,” von Dietelburg said, “you have not only survived the collapse of the Thousand-Year Reich, but seem to have prospered. You’re now Number Two in the Gehlen Organization. Very impressive!”
“Actually, I’m Number Three,” Mannberg replied. “Then as now, Oberst Otto Niedermeyer is the general’s deputy. He’s now in Argentina.”
“Have you forgotten, Ludwig, that at one time I had the privilege of serving as the Herr General’s deputy?”
“I stand corrected, Herr Baron. I do recall that,” Mannberg said. “That was before the Herr General decided your primary loyalty was to Himmler and had Admiral Canaris have you transferred to the Sixth Army.”