information which I have no wish to see fall into Himmler's hands.'
'What kind of confidential information, Herr Prime Minister?'
'I'm afraid I can't tell you that.'
'Look, sir,' I said. 'If I'm going to row the boat I like to know if there are any leaks in it. That's the difference between me and a regular bull. He doesn't get to ask why. It's the privilege of independence.'
Goering nodded. 'I admire directness,' he said. 'I don't just say that I'm going to do something, I do it and I do it properly. I don't suppose there's any point in hiring you unless I take you fully into my confidence. But you must understand, that imposes certain obligations on you, Herr Gunther. The price of betraying my trust is a high one.'
I didn't doubt it for a minute. I got so little sleep these days, I didn't think that losing some more on account of what I knew about Goering was going to make any difference. I couldn't back off. Besides, there was likely to be some good money in it, and I try not to walk away from money unless I can possibly help it. He took another two of the little pink pills. He seemed to take them as often as I might have smoked a cigarette.
'Sir, Rienacker will tell you that when he and I met in your apartment this afternoon, he asked me to tell him the name of the man I was working for, the man who owns the Rubens nude. I wouldn't tell him. He threatened to beat it out of me. I still wouldn't tell him.'
Rienacker leaned forwards. 'That's correct, Herr Prime Minister,' he offered.
I continued with my pitch. 'Every one of my clients gets the same deal.
Discretion and confidentiality. I wouldn't stay in business for very long if it was any other way.'
Goering nodded. 'That's frank enough,' he said. 'Then let me be equally frank.
Many positions in the bureaucracy of the Reich fall to my patronage.
Consequently, I'm often approached by a former colleague, a business contact, to grant a small favour. Well, I don't blame people for trying to get on. If I can, I help them. But of course I will ask a favour in return. That is the way the world works. At the same time, I have built up a large store of intelligence. It is a reservoir of knowledge that I draw on to get things done. Knowing what I know, it is easier to persuade people to share my point of view. I have to take the larger view, for the good of the Fatherland. Even now there are many men of influence and power who do not agree with what the Fuhrer and myself have identified as the priorities for the proper growth of Germany, so that this wonderful country of ours may assume its rightful place in the world.' He paused. Perhaps he was expecting me to jump up and give the Hitler Salute and burst into a couple of verses of Horst Wessel; but I stayed put, nodding patiently, waiting for him to come to the point.
'Von Greis was the instrument of my will,' he said silkily, 'as well as of my foible. He was both my purchasing agent, and my fund raiser.'
'You mean he was an up-market squeeze-artist.'
Goering winced and smiled at the same time. 'Herr Gunther, it does you much credit to be so honest, and so objective, but please try not to make it compulsive. I am a blunt man myself, but I don't make a virtue out of it.
Understand this: everything is justified in the service of the State. Sometimes one must be hard. It was, I think, Goethe who said that one must either conquer and rule, or serve and lose, suffer or triumph, be the anvil or the hammer. Do you understand?'
'Yes, sir. Look, it might help if I knew who Von Greis had dealings with.'
Goering shook his head. 'I really can't tell you that. It's my turn to get on the soapbox and talk about Discretion and Confidentiality. To that extent, you'll have to work in the dark.'
'Very well, sir, I'll do my best. Do you have a photograph of the gentleman?'
He reached into a drawer and produced a small snapshot which he handed to me.
'This was taken five years ago,' he said. 'He hasn't changed a great deal.'
I looked at the man in the picture. Like many German men, he wore his fair hair cropped relentlessly close to the skull, except for an absurd kiss-curl decorating his broad forehead. The face, crumpled in many places like an old cigarette-packet, wore a waxed moustache, and the general effect was of the clichT German Junker to be found in the pages of a back number of Jugend.
'Also, he has a tattoo,' added Goering. 'On his right arm. An imperial eagle.'
'Very patriotic,' I said. I put the photograph in my pocket, and asked for a cigarette. One of Goering's aides offered me one from the great silver box, and lit it with his own lighter. 'I believe that the police are working on the idea that his disappearance might have something to do with his being a homosexual.'
I said nothing about the information that Neumann had given me concerning the German Strength ring having murdered a nameless aristocrat. Until I could check his story, there was no point in throwing away what might turn out to be a good card.
'That is indeed a possibility.' Goering's admission sounded uncomfortable. 'It's true, his homosexuality led him to some dangerous places and, on one occasion, it even brought him to the attention of the police. However, I was able to see that the charge was dropped. Gerhard was not deterred by what should have been a salutary experience. There was even a relationship with a prominent bureaucrat to contend with. Foolishly, I allowed it to continue in the hope that it would force Gerhard to become more discreet.'
I took this information with several pinches of salt. I thought it much more likely that Goering had allowed the relationship to continue in order that he might compromise Funk a lesser political rival with the aim of putting him into his back pocket. That is, if he wasn't there already.
'Did Von Greis have any other boyfriends?'
Goering shrugged and looked at Rienacker, who stirred, and said: 'There was nobody in particular, as far as we know. But it's difficult to say for sure.
Most of the warm boys have been driven underground by the Emergency Powers. And most of the old queer clubs like the Eldorado have been closed. All the same, Herr Von Greis still managed to pursue a number of casual liaisons.'
'There is one possibility,' I said. 'That on a nocturnal visit to some out of the way corner of the city for sex, the gentleman was picked up by the local Kripo, beaten up and tossed into a K Z. You might not hear about it for several weeks.' The irony of the situation was not lost on me: that I should be discussing the disappearance of the servant of the man who was himself the architect of so many other disappearances. I wondered if he could see it too.
'Frankly, sir, one to two weeks is not a long time to be missing in Berlin these days.'
'Inquiries in that direction are already being made,' said Goering. 'But you are right to mention it. Apart from that,it's up to you now. From what inquiries Rienacker has made about you, missing persons would seem to be your speciality.
My aide here will provide you with money, and anything else you may require. Is there anything else?'
I thought for a moment. 'I'd like to put a tap on a telephone.'
I knew that the Forschungsamt, the Directorate of Scientific Research, which took care of wire-taps, was subordinate to Goering. Housed in the old Air Ministry building, it was said that even Himmler had to obtain Goering's permission to put a wire-tap on someone, and I strongly suspected that it was through this particular facility that Goering continued to add to the 'reservoir of intelligence' that Diels had left to his erstwhile master.
Goering smiled. 'You are well-informed. As you wish.' He turned and spoke to his aide. 'See to it. It is to be given priority. And make sure that Herr Gunther is given a daily transcript.'
'Yes, sir,' said the man. I wrote out a couple of numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to him. Then Goering stood up.
'This is your most important case,' he said, putting his hand lightly on my shoulder. He walked me to the door. Rienacker followed at a short distance. 'And if you are successful, you will not find me wanting in generosity.'
And if I wasn't successful? For the moment, I preferred to forget that possibility.
Chapter 12
It was nearly light by the time I got back to my apartment. The 'painting-out' squad was hard at work on the streets, obliterating the nocturnal daubings of the K P D 'Red Front will Win' and 'Long Live Thaelman and Torgler' before the city awoke to the new day.
