Do the Russians really ' care, that much about something that happened

fifty years ago?'

Harry looked thoughtful.  'I know what you mean.

Gorbachev has a hell of a lot bigger things on his plate than

fifty-year-old mysteries.  I wouldn't think the truth about Hess would

help glasnost any.'

'The Russian memory is long,' Schneider said gravely.

'And Gorbachev has limited influence over KGB.'

Harry glanced at the German.  'Maybe.  But we're missing the forest

here.  We're not talking ancient history.  The Berlin police wouldn't

give two shits about something like that.

We're talking about a tie between the past-Hess's past SPANDAU PHOENIX

and the present.  The here and now.  Maybe Zinoviev is connection.'

'Whatever the connection is,' said Rose, 'I've got a feeling it's pretty

goddamn dirty.  I don't have to tell you how many friggin' Nazis our own

government shielded from justice.'

Harry looked hard at both men for a few moments; then ..he reached into

his pocket, drew something out, and tossed it on Rose's'desk.  The

fragment of Goltz's scalp landed upside-down with a plop, like a wet

scab.  Black flecks of blood stained the file on Rose's desk.  The

colonel reached out to pick it up, then jerked back his hand in disgust.

'What the fuck is that?'

'Goltz,' Harry explained.  'That was a shaved spot a little above and

behind his right ear.  Turn it over, Colonel.'

Rose looked up at Harry with an expression that suggested he might be

wondering if Harry kept a VietCong ear necklace in his dresser at home.

'I didn't have a camera,' Harry muttered.

Rose took a ballpoint pen from a stand and flicked the shriveled swatch

of skin over, revealing the tattoo it bore.

He made no sound as he studied it, but Schneider sucked in his breath so

sharply that both men turned to him.

'You've seen this mark before?'  Rose asked.

The German nodded.  'Yes.  It's hard to detect.  Once the hair grows

back in, the mark is invisible.'

Harry looked curiously at the German.

'What the hell's it mean?'  Rose demanded.

Schneider shrugged.  'Certain members of a semisecret political group

wear that mark.  The group is called Der Bruderschaft-the Brotherhood.

Quite a few policemen belong to it.  I don't know what the tattoo means.

I always thought it was just a badge of membership.

Now and then you'll see a policeman with a bandage behind his ear.

They always make some excuse, but after a while you realize what it is.'

'Sounds like some kind of friggin' cult thing,' Rose declared.

'Is it like the Aryan Brotherhood in the States?'

Harry shook his head.  'The Aryan Brotherhood is made up of convicts,

not police.  They're cop killers.'

'How many Berlin cops have this mark?  A dozen?  A hundred?'

'More than a hundred,' Schneider said thoughtfully.  'But I never

realized that it extended into the DDR.  That's very disturbing.'

'You're goddamn right it is,' Rose agreed.

'Detective,' Harry said softly, 'do all members of Der Bniderschaft have

the tattoo?  Or just a select few?  A few who might belong to some truly

secret group, for instance.'

'Like Phoenix, you mean,' mused Schneider.  'No, I don't think all the

members have the tattoo.'

Rose was staring strangely at Schneider.  When Harry realized why, he

couldn't help staring himself.

The big German scowled back at them.  'No, I don't have a tattoo under

my hair,' he growled.  'And the first man who asks to look is going to

spend the night in the hospital.'

When Rose looked as if he might ask, Harry stood quickly.  'Thanks again

for saving my life, Detective.  If you fellows don't mind, I'm going to

crash until takeoff time tomorrow.'

Rose finally shifted his attention to Harry.  'Just remember,' he

warned, 'you'll be going in blind down there.  What I told you about the

British still holds: no contact at all, not even with your personal

connections.  No one's above being manipulated by his

government-especially ministers and lords.'

'Not even me,' said Harry, and smiled wryly.  'You worried about James

Bond catching up with me, ColoneIT' 'No.  I'm worried about some goddamn

George Smiley type.  A fat little guy with glasses who's five steps

ahead of us already.  Somebody who knows all about whatever happened

back in Germany in 1941.'

Harry ruminated on this for a moment.  'By the way, Colonel, Ivan Kosov

told me he'd like to collaborate on the Hess case.'

'When hell freezes over,' Rose muttered.  'We'll get to the bottom of

this well ourselves.'

Harry grinned.  'That's what I told him you'd say.'

Schneider stood and offered his prodigious hand.  'Gluck haben, Major.'

'Danke, ' Harry replied.

'Get the hell out of here,' Rose bellowed.  'I'll brief you before you

fly out.'

Harry sauntered out, returning Clary's sharp salute as he passed through

the outer office.

'What do you think?'  Rose asked, when Harry had gone.

'I think I should go with him,' Schneider said blun ,Well, you can't.  I

need you here.  You've got a lot do before you get any rest, mister.'

'Such as?'

'Such as helping me rout out the scum that's holed up in that police

station.'

Schneider smiled coldly.  'Gut.

'But first I want YOu to get over to that police sergeant's apartment.

kpfel, right?  Talk to the guy's wife.  We should've covered it hours

ago, but I couldn't spare you.'

Schneider stepped to the door and pulled on his heavy wool overcoat.

'And Schneider?'

'Yes, Colonel?'

'Sorry about that tattoo business.  I'm on edge.  If you stumble into

trouble, don't play hero, okay?  I know YOu don't like Americans messing

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