Stern digested this quickly.  'And his mission?'

'The double didn't know Hess's mission, only his own.

After Hess bailed out, the double was to fly on toward Dungavel Castle

and await some sort of radio signal from Hess.  If he received it, he

was to parachute down and impersonate Hess for as long as he could.'

Stern's eyes narrowed.  'And if he didn't receive the signal?'

Natterman smiled wryly.  'He was to fly out to sea, take cyanide, and

ditch the plane.  Standard SS procedure.'

Stern smiled cynically.  'Nazi melodrama.  Few Occidentals have the

nerve or the fanatical loyalty required to sacrifice themselves in cold

blood.'  The Israeli's eyes moved restlessly as he pieced the rest of

the story together.  'So when the double turned back and jumped, he was

disobeying orders.  He went ahead and impersonated Hess as if he had

received the signal ... and the British believed him.'

Natterman listened to these deductions in silence.  'Or perhaps they

didn't believe him,' Stern mused.  'It doesn't really matter.  What

matters is this: Who did the real Hess fly there to see?  And why in

God's name should anyone in South Africa give a damn about it?'

'Now that you know what the papers say,' said Natterman, 'what do you

intend to do?'

'I told you, Professor, my interest is not in the Hess case.'

Stern's hand slipped into his trouser pocket, fingered something there.

'Long before the death of Prisoner Number Seven, I had reason to

investigate Spandau.  My mmon had nothing to do with Hess@everything to

do with the safety of Israel.  But until Number Seven's death, gaining

access to Spandau was virtually impossible.'  Stern paused, apparently

conducting some debate with himself 'Tell me, Professor,' he said

suddenly, 'does the Spandau diary mention weapons or scientific

materials of any type?'

Natterman blinked in confusion.  'Weapons?  Herr Stern, the Spandau

diary has nothing whatsoever to do with any kind of weapons.'

'Are you positive?'

'Absolutely.  What is it, suddenly?  First Hauer badgers me about

reunification, now you ask me about weapon@' 'Reunification?'  Stern

asked sharply.

'Oh, it's nonsense,' Natterman said.  'These papers deal only with the

Hess case.  They are going to expose those who share responsibility for

the scars on Germany's national pride.Stern's suspicious face hardened.

'I'm afraid there's new infection festering beneath those old scars,' he

saidd coldly.

'What the devil do you mean?'

'Professor, I don't care if you're after academic fame, or if you want

to ease Germany's national guilt.'  The Israeli waved away Natterman's

protests.  'I care about the past only insofar as it impacts the present

NW the -future.  The people who are after these papers are worried about

a lot more than history books.  I tried to interrogate that Afrikaner.

protect som Professor.  He had the crazy eyes, did you notice? With only

one arm he fought like a tiger, and before he died he screamed something

very startling at me.  It was in Afrikaans-which I don't speak-but I

knew enough Dutch to translate it.  Roughly, it was 'Death to.  Israel!

Death to Zion!'' Stern paused.  'He didn't even know I was Jewish.'

Natterman looked thoughtful.  'He said something similar to me in the

cabin.  He called me a 'Jew maggot,' I believe.'

Stern raised an eyebrow.  'You don't find that curious?

Why should a South African have some fixation on Jews?

Or on Israel?'

'I never considered it until now.'

Stern glanced back toward the main road as the drone of a heavy truck

filled the woods.  'Tell me,' he said, 'are Hauer and Apfel flying

directly to South Africa?'

Natterman's eyes grew wide.  'You know their destination?'

'Answer me!'

Natterman held out but a moment more.  'Yes!'  he blurted.  'My

granddaughter is being held prisoner there.  The kidnappers instructed

Hans by phone to leave today from Frankfurt.'

'With the Spandau papers as ransom?'

'Yes, but Hauer has some kind of rescue plan up his sleeve.'

Stern looked off into the dark forest.  Frozen limbs cracked in the

slowly rising sun.  Icicles stretched earthward, reaching it one drop at

a time.  'The diary is incomplete now,' he murmured.  'Who is aware of

that' 'No one,' Nanerman confessed.  'Only you and I.'

Stern turned and eyed the professor appraisingly.  'That is good for us,

but very dangerous for your granddaughter.  Tell me, what kind of man is

this Captain Hauer?'

'Tough.  Very tough.'

'And the boy?'

'Angry ... frightened to death.  Untested.'

Stern nodded.  'One thing has puzzled me from the beginning, Professor.

Why has Captain Hauer-a man nearing retirement, a man whose own

personnel file shows him to be a member of a neofascist police

organization-sacrificed his pension and possibly his life to help this

apparently innocent young sergeant?'

Natterman smiled at the irony.  -Hauer is Hans's father.

It's a complicated family matter.  Very few people know about it.'

Stern took a deep, satisfying breath, as if this last bit of information

had completed some circle in his mind.

'You must tell me who you are,' Natterman demanded.

'Are you a spy?  Are you really an Israeli?'  To the professor's

amazement, Stern turned suddenly on his heel and without a word marched

down the lane toward the main road.

'Where are you going?'  Natterman cried.

'South Africa, Professor!  Get that log out of the road if you want to

come!'

Natterman's jaw dropped in astonishment.  'But I have no 'in an hour you

shall!'  Stern caUed, then he disappeared amnd the curve.

As the huffing professor wresded the rotted tree trunk over a snowdrift

at the lane's edge, he heard the sound of an approaching engine. Seconds

later, a big blue Mercedes rounded the curve from the direction of the

main road and stopped beside him.  At the wheel sat Jonas Stern.  In the

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