waved Bormann's document under his nose.
At that moment Gruber was preoccupied in his office trying to get through to the Berghof.
'I am Major Hartmann,' the Abwehr officer informed the deserter who was lying on a bed in a cell with his leg bandaged. 'You realize your position? You will be tried and sentenced on the evidence of the soldier who survived your brutal assault…'
'It was Gerd who killed him…' the youth protested.
'If I am to help you,' Hartmann interrupted, 'you must tell me what happened at the Sudbahnhof. I cannot understand why you panicked. No one had seen you…'
'The man and the girl had spotted us…'
The youth stopped as though he had said too much. Hartmann leaned forward as he raised a warning finger.
'I am short of time. I am the Abwehr. Once I leave here you are alone – with the Gestapo. What man, what girl?'
'The previous night we stopped them near the Sudbahnhof. The funny thing is they were dressed so differently I might never have recognized them at the station – but the man kept staring at me…'
Hartmann had the whole story out of him in ten minutes. The youth had seen the man and the girl boarding the Graz train. Hartmann stood up, called the guard, left the cell and left Gestapo headquarters.
Reluctantly he decided he had better report his findings to Bormann before he headed for Graz.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Bureau Ha, the section of Swiss Intelligence which dealt with Lucy, was based in the Villa Stutz, eight and a half kilometres from the suburb where the Roesslers had their apartment.
This three-storey, stucco-faced building was tucked well out of the way in a discreet location on a lonely cape projecting into Lake Lucerne. From the outside it had the appearance of being the residence of a wealthy Swiss. No uniformed soldiers were ever seen in the vicinity; its wrought-iron double gates were guarded by men in civilian clothes.
It was to the Villa Stutz that Roger Masson summoned Roessler to an interview in his office at midnight. The late hour was chosen deliberately. It enabled Roessler to make the trip to the Bureau's headquarters without being seen. At that time – as Masson knew – Switzerland was swarming with German agents who had slipped across the frontiers.
Masson sat stiffly behind his desk as the stooped figure of Roessler was shown into the room. This alone made Roessler nervous – it was unlike Masson who normally greeted him in the most friendly manner. The Swiss launched his verbal onslaught as soon as Roessler was seated opposite him.
'You are a German. Our arrangement was that you would operate your transmitter on the clear understanding that copies of every signal from Woodpecker would be sent to me…'
'There have been no signals to send…'
'You expect me to believe that for several weeks Woodpecker has been off the air every night? Has the system broken down then? Do you think Woodpecker has been caught by the Gestapo? All this is highly unsatisfactory. Has a man called Allen Dulles, an American, been near you?'
'I have never heard of such a person,' Roessler protested.
Masson leaned back in his chair. Roessler's statement carried conviction. But the American agent who had slipped into Switzerland via Vichy France earlier was proving a bloody nuisance. He travelled about openly, making no attempt to conceal himself. He practically advertised his existence. Already the Germans knew he was in Switzerland. As these thoughts drifted through his mind, Masson watched his visitor who stirred restlessly as he glanced round the room. Floor-length curtains shrouded the windows and the silence was increased by the mist rolling in from the lake.
'It really puzzles me – this sudden gap in Woodpecker's flow of information,' Masson said suddenly.
'You think it doesn't puzzle me? And the season for the summer campaign on the Russian front is approaching – so Moscow should be avid for details of the Wehrmacht's order of battle. Hitler could destroy them with the huge forces under his control…'
'I know. Well, we'll have to see. You may go now…'
Masson sat alone at his desk for a whole hour after Roessler had left. If Hitler won on the Eastern front his next objective might be the invasion of Switzerland. There had been that unnerving reference to Switzerland his code-breakers had still not managed to unravel. Lucy's activities – if ever discovered – were a tremendous provocation to the Nazis. Masson simply couldn't make up his mind whether to let Roessler go on.
At the end of April 1943 Woodpecker's transmissions were resumed. Masson had no way of knowing that this event coincided with the movement of the Fuhrer and his entourage back to the Wolf's Lair aboard the Amerika. Among the people who travelled back with him on the train were Reichsleiter; Martin Bormann; the stiff-necked Field Marshal Wilhelm Keitel; and the amiable but wily General Jodl.
The Amerika was steaming steadily closer to the Wolf's Lair when Bormann entered the dining-car. Hitler sat at a table with Keitel and Jodl and had commenced his meagre lunch consisting of a bowl of celery soup.
' Mein Fuhrer, Bormann announced as he sat in the empty chair, 'there is news of the English fugitive, Lindsay…'
'They have captured him? Alive, I hope…'
'Well, no – not yet. But Hartmann has reported they are making for Yugoslavia. He is following them..
'Ah, Hartmann!' Hitler was amused at Bormann's expense. 'I recall at the Berghof you wished to entrust this mission solely to the Gestapo and the SS. Was it not I who insisted Hartmann should join the search?'
'It was your decision alone, mein Fuhrer, once again confirming your infallible judgement,' Bormann agreed obsequiously.
Jodl nearly choked on the particularly succulent morsel of pork he was enjoying. The Reichsleiter's self- abasement almost made him throw up. Jodl was one of the few men capable of standing up to Hitler. There had been a famous pre-war incident when he had engaged in a shouting match with the Fuhrer, contradicting him to his face.
'I don't know how you can stomach that meat,' Hitler remarked. 'A vegetarian diet…' He stopped himself launching into a long lecture and continued questioning Bormann. 'So, Lindsay and his associates did not head for Switzerland – as you were certain they would. The expensive luggage abandoned at the Westbahnhof should have warned you, Bormann. They were adopting a different role. Where does Hartmann think they are heading for now?'
'One of the British agents parachuted in to liaise with the Yugoslav guerrilla forces…'
'Which one specifically?' Jodl enquired.
'He gave no further information except that he was continuing on their trail,' Bormann replied.
Keitel remained silent, apparently absorbed in his meal and the view out of the window. It was going to be one of the first warm spring days.
'Yugoslavia?' Hitler repeated thoughtfully. 'I wonder if they all realize what awaits them down there? They are entering the gates of hell…'
By 2.30 on the following morning, the Amerika had long ago pulled up in the small railway siding at the Wolf's Lair. Hitler and his entourage were settled in at their familiar quarters inside Security Ring A. There was one exception.
A shadowy figure made its way alone through the darkness of the engulfing pine forest until it reached the log pile. Agile hands removed the few logs concealing the transceiver. The coded signal the hands tapped out was in two parts. The first gave the new German order of battle decided on by the Fuhrer at his midnight conference.
The second part, in special code, reported Hartmann's news as to the present whereabouts of Wing Commander Lindsay and his likely destination. The transmission completed, the hands replaced the concealing logs and switched off the small, masked torch. Woodpecker had resumed communication with Lucy.
As you drive into the Kremlin you enter a city within a city – like one of those Russian, hand-painted wooden
