agreed to stay in the safehouse with us. Together we passed the days
playing cards and listening to the radio. At night around ten-thirty
'Big Bill' would show up to make sure the plan had not changed.
Twice during this period Sherwood found an excuse to break orders and
come to the safehouse. I should have found some way to kill the
Bolshevik rat, but since 'Liule Bill' was with us all the time, I
couldn't risk doing it in the house.
I thought of ordering Helmut to slip out and kill Sherwood, but I must
confess I had some doubt as to whether he would do it. Helmut had lived
with-andfought b@these Englishmen for years, and I could see that the
inevitability of their deaths was beginning to weigh upon him.
Helmut wasn't disloyal, but the strain of living a perpetual lie had
started to build up in him to a significant degree. Because of this, I
let the Sherwood matter go unresolved.
On May 10th-the final night before the strike-the atmosphere in the
house was electric. We had a car parked behind the house, filled with
black-market petrel. Every minute it sat unattended was another minute
of increased risk.
Around ten p.m. we heard the first Luftwaffe bombs falling outside. They
were far away from us-Heydrich had seen to that-but the noise was still
frightening. I began to worry.
By eleven p.m. 'Big Bill' had still not arrived. I began to wonder if
he had lost his nerve, or even-God forbid-if he might have been killed
in the air raid. His lateness did not help Fox's resolve, either The
little man paced the room like a prisoner in solitary confinement.
At eleven-fifteen, disaster struck. The door burst open and 'Big Bill'
stormed into the room, his eyes blazing. 'They're dead! ' he shouted
like a madman. 'Dead dead dead! ' I will neverforget his huge redface,
shaking in anguish. I couldn't imagine what he was screaming about, but
he soon told us.
Both his parents had been killed in the air-raid, he wailed, burnt
blacker than coat He wanted revenge: revenge on Goring, on the
Luftwaffe, and most of all on Hitler I tried to turn this catastrophe to
our advantage. Banks would have his revenge, I said. Tomorrow Hitler
would be killed@just as Churchill would-by a communist martyr just like
Banks.
What better revenge could his parents have?
When I mentioned Churthill, however, a strange look crossed Banks's
face. Then an odd calm settled on him. 'I won't do it, ' he said
simply. I almost collapsed 'What?' I cried Speaking in a voice almost
too low to hear, Banks said that all along Churchill had been the man
who had stood up to Hitler That no mauer what extremes of capitalist
greed Churchill stood for, Churchill wanted Hitler dead It seemed that
this alone was now enough for 'Big Bill' Banks. The 's f man anatical
communist zeal had disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I wanted to shoot him on the spot. I could see that his uncertainty was
having a similar effect on Fox. Immediately I redoubled my efforts to
convince Banks to push on. Helmut did his best to help me, and after
several minutes of emotional appeals Banks started to come around.
Somehow Helmut had redirected Banks's anger onto ChurrhilL It was
Churchill who'd brought the air raids down on England he said, Churchill
who'd actually killed Banks's parents. 'Big Bill' took hold of his Sten
and began marching around the room, a snarl on his lips and tears in his
eyes. His rededication steeled Fox for his task, and I believed that
our mission might yet succeed But disaster struck again, this time in
the form of Sherwood. We heard the group's secret knock at the door
Helmut answered it, ready to brain whatever fool had broken his order
not to come around. The moment he unlatched the door, Sherwood burst in
with a revolver and ordered me against the wall. Jabbing the gun at me,
he told the others that I really was El Muerte, the Russian torturer
from Spain.
I calmly called the man a lunatic and told him he was about to wreck the
greatest strike for world communism since 1917. Sherwood laughed
wildly. Both Helmut and 'Linle Bill' Fox urged him to put the pistol
down, but the fanatic showed no reluctance to point the gun at his own
countrymen if they interfered.
Sherwood Stepped up to me and laid the barrel of the pistol between my
eyes. 'Tell them, ' he said. 'Tell them who you really are. ' I could
almost see Helmut's brain spinning.
No one suspected him yet, but he had to be careful. 'Comrade Zinoviev
comes from Moscow!' he told them. 'From Stalin himself!
Don't bring Stalin's wrath down upon us. ' But Helmut@ words had no
effect on Sherwood. 'He thinks we're fools, Bill!' Sherwood shouted to
Banks. 'Wants us to kill our own King, he does! Wants us to kill
Churchill and help Hitler! ' Banks looked confused 'Why would a Russian
want that?' he asked Sherwood Sherwood scowled 'Aye, he@ a Russian,
Bill, but he's no Communist. He's a Tsarist killer and a bloody
Nazi-lover too! Aren't you?' he said, jabbing me with the revolver I
told Sherwood he was mad, all the while praying that Helmut had a pistol
on him. This couldn't go on much longer, I knew, and it didn't.
Sherwood suddenly called out a name, and a ragged old man shambled
through the door My blood ran cold Before me stood the interrogator's
nightmare@ne of my former victims, a man whose arm I had ordered broken
in several places. I could not conceal my shock.
The man had only one arm now, but I remembered his face from Spain.
While Sherwood pointed his pistol at me, the old man raised his one arm
and slapped me in the face. 'Bastard, ' he said. Then he turned to the
others and said, 'This is El Muerte. ' Sherwood's eyes sparkled with
glee. 'Little Bill' Fox stood shaking his head in disbelief. Sherwood
took two steps back and steadied his aim; he meant to kill me on the
spot.
In that moment Helmut saved my life. He jerked a knife from his pocket
and buried it in Sherwood's heart. The stunned Englishman staggered
back, gurgled once, fired the pistol and fell dead.
Everyone in the room stood still, not quite sure what had happened. I
had the insane notion that we might yet salvage the mission. Then-in
a.flash of insight-'Big Bill' Banks understood it all. 'You're a Nazi,'
he said to Helmut, his face slack with astonishment. 'You-you always
have been. ' He looked like a shell-shocked recruit. 'But you fought
