Tell the Fuhrer that that is why I am here, said Heydrich, standing his ground. Because of what was discussed at the conference. I have something important to tell him. I need to see him urgently.
Something that cant wait. But something that couldnt be said before in front of your colleagues. You intrigue me, Reinhard. Hitler had appeared silently behind his valet in the doorway, standing with his hands behind his back, but Heydrich was reassured to see that the Fuhrer was smiling and appeared to have entirely shaken off his earlier irritation. Hed changed into a simple white military jacket, the same colour as Goerings but otherwise entirely unlike the Reichsmarschalls ridiculously flamboyant uniform.
Come, let us go out, he said. We can walk together and enjoy the view down over the valley, and you can tell me what it is that is so urgent.
They set off, walking side by side along the wooded path that led from the Berghof to Hitlers teahouse on the Mooslahnerkopf hill, with the Fuhrers Alsatian dog bounding along in front of them. Heydrich knew that this was one of Hitlers favourite walks he went to the teahouse almost every day when he was at the Berghof, and Heydrich had accompanied him there on several occasions, but never alone like now. It felt awkward to be walking casually with the supreme leader, and Heydrich watched his pace and walked with a slight stoop to ensure that Hitler wasnt aware of his height advantage.
There was a cold grip in the air, but no clouds in the pale blue sky. To their right, the trees were laden with golden leaves turning to red before they fell, and to their left the spires and roofs of the small resort town of Berchtesgaden were clearly visible spread out across the valley floor three thousand feet below. All around, the mountains of the Bavarian Alps towered above their heads. Heydrich instinctively understood why Hitler loved this place and had chosen to make it his home. They were in the very heart of the Reich. There was an elemental energy in the air, in the vista, that reminded Heydrich of Caspar Friedrichs painting, The Wanderer Above the Sea of Mists. Heydrich liked beauty he could create it himself at home in the evenings when he stood at the window of his study with his violin, playing the Haydn sonatas that hed learnt from his father when he was a boy. He understood it just as he understood the web of complex emotions that motivated the actions of his fellow human beings; but his understanding was clinical, an entirely cerebral analysis. Heydrich had no capacity for empathy whatsoever and, like his leader, he stood apart, utterly unmoved by the suffering of others. All that mattered to him was the use and pursuit of power.
They walked in silence, with Heydrich waiting for Hitler to open the conversation. The wind had died down and their footsteps on the hard ground were the only sound, apart from the tap of Hitlers walking stick. The dog had gone on ahead. Soon they reached the point where the path bent out from under the trees, providing a panoramic viewing point. Hitler sat on the wooden bench looking out over the railings, and Heydrich followed suit.
I never get tired of this place, Hitler said meditatively. I have tried to paint it several times from different angles, but it is too vast, too much a theatre in the round for me to capture on a canvas. Its essence escapes me.
They say that Charlemagne sleeps under that mountain, said Heydrich, pointing across the valley to the majestic Untersberg, which reared up to a distant snow-capped peak thousands of feet above them, barring the way into Austria.
And they say that Jesus is the son of God, said Hitler tartly. Why do you talk to me of Charlemagne? Hes been dead a thousand years.
The riposte was typical of the Fuhrer always challenging those he was with, refusing to relax. But Heydrich was ready with his answer.
Because he did what you did, he said. Charlemagne united the Volk; he made a Reich just like you have done. He had the will and the vision and the power to accomplish his mission. Men like you come rarely. They can change history, but there are always spoilers like Churchill who stand in their way, trying to destroy their work.
And without Churchill the British would make peace. Is that what you are trying to say?
Yes.
Well, you are probably right, said Hitler, nodding. This war makes no sense for them and none for us. Its like I have always said I am Englands friend. There is room for them in the world and room for us too. We are all Aryans. But Churchill will not listen. He is the Bolsheviks greatest ally. I am sure Stalin has a picture of fat Winston in his bedroom in Moscow and that he kisses it with his filthy icons at night. Hitlers sudden harsh laughter cut the air before he abruptly resumed the quiet, serious voice with which he had been speaking before. What is it you are trying to tell me, Reinhard? he asked. Dont talk in riddles.
Heydrich took a deep breath of the cold mountain air. He felt his heart beating hard under his uniform and a sense of vertigo rising through his body that didnt come from their elevated position. He knew instinctively that this was his opportunity. With the credit for Churchills assassination, he could be Hitlers deputy. With England out of the war, he would have succeeded where Goering and the generals and admirals had failed.
I think I can solve the problem, he said quietly. I think I can remove Churchill from the equation.
Kill him, you mean? How are you going to do that?
As you know, I received a radio message from our agent yesterday. What I didnt mention in my report is that he saw Churchill in person, and he seems to think that if hes summoned to see Churchill again, then there might be an opportunity. I dont know the details, obviously it was a very short message.
Well, get the details. Hitler snapped out the order. He got up from the bench, smoothing the crease of his black trousers into place, and walked over to the railings, standing with his back to Heydrich and looking out towards the mountains, drumming his fingers on the wood.
After a moment, he turned around. We must not get ahead of ourselves, he said slowly. I need to know whether this is a harebrained scheme or a real chance to eliminate Churchill once and for all. We dont want to throw away our best intelligence asset on a thousand-to-one bet. But if it can be done, then let it be done. Hitler rubbed his hands together, a characteristic gesture when he was excited. He smiled, exposing his teeth, and his blue eyes glowed. This is the best idea I have heard in a long time. The worms will have a feast when Churchills fat body goes underground. But you must be quick in finding out what is possible, you understand? East is where we must go. And before next year is too far advanced; before Stalin is ready for us. We must give our troops enough time I have no intention to be another Napoleon, freezing to death in the Moscow cold.
You can count on me, said Heydrich, getting up from his seat and standing to attention opposite Hitler, the image of a loyal soldier.
I hope so, said Hitler, looking searchingly at his subordinate. We are playing for high stakes. Do not let me down, Reinhard.
Hitler whistled and the dog came running up through the trees. We will go back now, he said, turning towards the Berghof. You have work to do. But next time you come, we will walk all the way to my teahouse. The view from the Mooslahnerkopf is excellent, even better than from here. And you can tell me more about this opportunity. Hitler smiled as he repeated Heydrichs word. I shall look forward to it.
There was a spring in Hitlers step now as he walked, and he hummed a tune under his breath. They rounded a corner and, looking up, Heydrich caught sight of the Eagles Nest, the retreat built for the Fuhrer by the party faithful on a ridge at the top of the Kehlstein Mountain, three thousand feet above the Berghof. Thirty million Reichsmarks, five tunnels, and an elevator an engineering miracle yet Hitler hardly ever went there, preferring his small teahouse on the Mooslahnerkopf Hill. Heydrich smiled, thinking of the wasted effort. Results were what mattered; they were what led to advancement up the ladder of power. And now finally he believed he held the keys to the citadel dangling in his hand.
They parted in the hall. The map had been cleared away and the oak table moved back against the wall. It was as if the conference had never happened. Heydrich raised his arm in salute and felt Hitlers pale blue eyes fixed upon him again, boring into his soul, before the Fuhrer turned and walked away, releasing him back into the world.
IV
They sat restlessly around the long table arranged in a kind of hierarchical order, with the least powerful among them exposed to the wintry draught by the door and the most important positioned closest to Cs empty chair and the fire behind it, which had died down to a black, smoky residue of itself in the last half-hour. There was no coal left in the scuttle, and nobody had volunteered to descend the seven flights of stairs to fetch more from the store in the basement.
It was ten in the morning outside, but inside it might as well have been the dead of night. The thick blackout curtains were kept permanently in place in Con 1, as this room was known God knows why, as there were no other conference rooms in the building and the only illumination came from two milky-white electric globes hanging by rusty metal chains from the ceiling overhead. Up until yesterday there had been three of these lights, but the one nearest the door had given up the ghost during the previous nights air raid and Jarvis, the caretaker, had not yet got round to replacing it.
Far too busy ministering to Cs ceaseless stream of demands, thought Seaforth with wry amusement. By long-hallowed custom, the head of MI6 was always known by the single letter C short for chief, Seaforth supposed. And even though he hadnt been in the job that long, this C was already notorious for his enjoyment of lifes luxuries: the best Havana cigars; malt whisky brewed in freezing conditions on faraway Hebridean atolls; pretty girls in the bar at the Savoy. Not that Jarvis was likely to be providing them, thought Seaforth, glancing across at the bent, skeletal figure of the caretaker standing over by the half-open door.