Thomas shrugged.
'How innocent the young are' commented Whiteside sardonically.
'What about Helmut Andorpher? Or Heinrich Kinder?' ill 'Nothing,' said Thomas.
'It's time we added to your education'' said Whiteside.
'Allow me to graphically transport you back to 1943. As you may have learned from the history books, there was a bit of a conflict going on in Europe.'
Thomas was silent, watching and listening as Whiteside folded his long narrow fingers into a steeple on the desk before him.
'Germany had several different phases of its war against Britain'
Whiteside continued.
'Not all were military. There is more than one way to destroy a nation. Militarily is one way. Economically is another. Operation Bernhard was of the latter.'
'A plan of economic destruction?' asked Thomas, his eyebrows lowered into a frown.
'Operation Bernhard was a highly secret German project,' explained Whiteside, leaning forward and speaking with more intensity now.
'The operation was to counterfeit British currency, specifically the five-pound note but also tens and twenties. This was the brainchild, as it were, of an SS colonel named Helmut Andorpher who conceptualized the project in 1940 and received approval directly from Hitler in 1941.
The intention was quite simple.
Inflate the pound sterling so catastrophically that its value on the world market would be destroyed.'
'Brilliant idea;' conceded Thomas.
'Not at all original,' sneered Whiteside dourly.
'Andorpher was a student of history.' Whiteside cleared his throat and allowed himself a thin smile.
'During your War of Independence our General Howe counterfeited Continental dollars to undercut their worth. With considerable success, I might add. The only distinguishing quality separating the original from the facsimile was that the counterfeit was a better product.'
'But we won;'said Thomas.
There was a silence.
'Yes. I'm told you did. In any event, Andorpher headed Operation Bernhard. He was a formidable strategist and an 'cellent soldier. What he was not was an engraver.'
Thomas nodded.
'What he needed to make his operation work was the homme indispensable, the indispensable man who could engrave the plates and who could duplicate the paper. The man who could turn out the unquestionably perfect counterfeit product.'
'And he found him. Within German intelligence, I'll bet 'Very good, Daniels,' nodded Whiteside.
'Of course he found him. A man very intimate with international finance and currency.
A German intelligence officer named Heinrich Kinder.' Whiteside allowed himself another meager smile.
'A nom de guerre, of course.'
'Of course ' 'Arthur Sandler,' sighed Whiteside.
'Our dear, dear American double agent Pensively, he continued,
'Well, our friend Herr Sandler straightened out the Huns with their printing presses. It makes sense. He was a chemist, remember? He concocted a bleach that positively lifted the ink off old one-pound notes. Then he reduced the paper to pulp, reprocessed it to accommodate five pound notes, meticulously reengraved the plates and began running off five-pound notes as fast as the presses could roll.
Damned nice of our American cousins to supply the enefny with the essential man for their Operation Bernhard. Don't you think so?' he concluded with bitterness.
'How much damage did they do?'
Whiteside broke his hands apart and rubbed the palms together.
'During the war, surprisingly little. The saving factor was that an operation such as this took enormous time to get underway.
Kinder-or Sandler-was given his workshop in Sachsenhausen concentration camp. He had labor there to run the presses, but there were logistical problems getting all his material and engraving tools to him. By the time everything was fully underway and by the time the presses were rolling at full speed, it was late 1944.'
'And the war was almost over.'
Whiteside nodded.
'The German armies were in retreat everywhere. And the channels in Switzerland, North Africa, and South America which could pass the money were limited or impaired. It was somewhat like the V-2 rockets, Daniels, or the atomic bomb.
Time ran out on the Huns before they could shove it down our throats.'
Whiteside spent a moment in quiet reflection.
'Bloody jerries,' he muttered.
Thomas sensed that Whiteside might be given to more candor than he'd intended. He pressed the questioning.
'You haven't even told me the real problem,' said Thomas.
'Sorry?'
'You said Operation Bernhard did surprisingly little damage.
Your own words. Yet it was important.'
'Yes, it was.'
'Why? I said it did little damage during the war. What we're leading up to is 1945. Early on in the year.'
Thomas thought quickly. It was just before this period that Arthur Sandler had stepped out of the life of Elizabeth Chatsworth.
'The fate of the Third Reich had been decided by the beginning of 1945' said Whiteside.
'No question about that. Again, it was a matter of time, closing the noose, choking off the armies, and reaching Berlin' Thomas listened intently. His eyes drifted to the coat of arms on the wall behind Whiteside. The Lion and the Unicom, Dieu et Mon Droit. .
'The Reich was drawing in upon itself,' said Whiteside.
'Hitler had retreated to his Alpenfestung. He was on the dark side of insanity by now, of course. He was ordering children into combat, sending out commands for battalions which had long since been decimated.
And he ordered his counterfeiters to keep working. Right up till the end ' Did they?'
'Yes' he said with a pained smile.
'And beyond. When the Bolsheviks got to Berlin, the counterfeiters packed it in. TheySandler, Andorpher, and whatever help they had-tried to escape with all the equipment, heading south toward Austria. They travelled by truck. That essentially is how we know what they were up to. The main truck, bearing most of the equipment plus crates and crates of freshly printed pound notes, broke down on the escape route. They couldn't bury it, it was too big. And they couldn't abandon it, it was too valuable. So they tried to hide it. Sandler released the brake on the top of a hill. They let it roll down until it splashed into a lake. And there it sank.'
'Forgotten?' asked Thomas with obvious sarcasm.
'For a few weeks. Then the crates broke open. Millions of pounds worth of notes came floating to the surface. Fives, tens, twenties, and fifties. Need I say, the locals had a fine time. Wringing out the money and hanging it in trees to dry. It was the first time Allied intelligence heard of it. Wasn't exactly the type of thing that could be kept quiet. It was the first time any outsider had any inkling about Bernhard.' Whiteside's brow was furrowed.
'There'd been suspicion for a long time, mind you. There were simply too' many pounds circulating. But now we knew. Our sacred pound sterling, and our friends the Sausage Makers had been printing it 'And Sandler?' asked Thomas, sensing the next chapter.
'And Andorpher?'
Whiteside made a gesture with his mouth. It was half wince, half pained smile.
'This is where it gets sketchy,' he said.
'But some basics are known. Andorpher, for example.'
