End of Spies by Alex Gerlis (popular ebook readers .txt) 📕

‘Same reason as you, I imagine.’

‘Please – can you help me?’ Wagner was holding Steiner’s arm with both hands. He looked as if he was on the verge of tears, his face lined and unshaven, his eyes hooded and bloodshot. ‘If I had money, I could buy papers to get me to Spain. I’ve heard there are people there who can help us; I even have an address in Bilbao.’

Steiner began to pull away from him, but stopped as a thought occurred to him. ‘I can help you, Gustav, of course I can… a loyal comrade, a good National Socialist. You see that bar there?’ He was pointing across the road at Bar 1860, the ‘6’ hanging at an odd angle. Most of its windows were boarded up, but the lights were on inside. ‘Meet me in there at four tomorrow afternoon and I’ll have money for you – enough to get you to Spain, and I think I may have the name of someone who can help get you there. I may even join you!’

‘That would be wonderful, Wolfgang. Imagine, just like old times!’

Steiner waited until eight o’clock before arriving on Neuhauser Strasse, where one of the few buildings in the street unscathed from Allied bombing had become the Red Cross Club for US Army officers.

He joined a couple of dozen other Germans strung out along the street either side of the entrance to the club. Some were begging for money, others selling cigarettes or themselves. Steiner felt his heart pounding as he watched the officers entering. Most arrived in groups, busy talking to each other and ignoring the Germans.

He moved away from the others, and after half an hour an officer approached on his own, pausing close by to light a cigarette. Steiner moved fast.

‘Excuse me, sir, but I have valuable intelligence here for the United States Army!’

The officer looked startled and stepped back, but not before Steiner had handed him an envelope.

‘What the hell is this?’

‘Films, sir, photographs of important documents that will be of interest to the United States. Please hand it to a senior officer.’

‘Hang on, pal, how the hell do I—’

‘Your intelligence people will want to evaluate the films first. I will come to your headquarters tomorrow morning.’

‘Wait, who are you?’ The American looked at him as if he was mad.

Steiner was already moving away. ‘I will be there tomorrow morning. The name I will give is on the envelope.’

Wolfgang Steiner had thought long and hard about the best way to approach the Americans. His original plan had been to turn up unannounced at their headquarters, but he’d worried they’d ignore what he had to say and would either send him away or arrest him. He decided the best way to be taken seriously was for them to somehow be aware of who he was and what he had to tell them before he arrived.

The American headquarters in Munich was in the south of the city, in the old Reichszeugmeisterei building on Tegernseer Landstrasse. Within moments of arriving there the following morning, Steiner knew his gamble had paid off. No sooner had he given his name at the guard post than he was taken aside and asked to wait as an officer made a telephone call. Within five minutes he was sitting in a carpeted office on an upper floor facing a smiling American officer who introduced himself as Major Tom Barrow. He’d even been asked if he’d like coffee.

The major’s desk was covered in photographs, Barrow tapping them as he spoke. ‘Where did you get these from?’

Steiner showed him his identity papers and his Parteikanzlei pass. He explained that he was a senior Nazi Party official who had had access to thousands of documents. ‘I realised early in the war that should matters not turn out in our favour, I would need something to protect myself, so I began to photograph documents that I believed might turn out to be of interest to the Allies in the event of their winning the war. I saw them as my insurance policy. The four films I handed over last night, which I’m pleased to see you’ve had developed, are just samples. I have more.’ He took out the other four rolls of films from his pocket and passed them to the officer.

‘Is that all you have?’

Steiner laughed and leaned back in his chair. ‘No! I have another two hundred and ten rolls. Each one has thirty-six exposures and each film covers at least three documents, so you can work out how much material I have. And I promise you it’s all valuable intelligence: look at what you already have – a list of scientists at Peenemünde, Nazi Party members with accounts at a Swiss bank… there’s much more just like that and even better. There are notebooks too, filled with information. I think it’s what you call a treasure trove, isn’t it?’

‘And where is this treasure trove, as you put it, Steiner?’

‘If you’re interested in it, then we can come to an arrangement.’

Major Barrow watched him carefully, clearly trying to work out whether to believe him. ‘You’re taking a hell of a risk, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am, but it’s a calculated risk – I’m confident you’ll be interested enough in what I have to give you.’

‘From what you tell me, you were a very senior Nazi official.’

‘I was, and I don’t deny I was a member of the Nazi Party, but I can assure you I’m certainly not one of those war criminals you seem to be so interested in. I was a bureaucrat – a senior one certainly, but no more than that.’

‘And I’m to believe that you’re now prepared to turn against the people you worked for and were clearly so loyal to?’

‘The war’s over, Major: I think the saying is “every man for himself”, is it not?’

‘And what’s in it for you, Steiner?’

‘I want money, obviously, and I also want a guarantee of immunity from prosecution for anything