Germany wants - indeed needs, Herr Reichskommissar. But so long as King Hakon remains at large, his colours tied to the British mast, there will always be Norwegian resistance to Germany. You must - must- find him. Not only that, Herr Reichskommissar, it is imperative you also find the nation's bullion and the Crown Jewels. The King and the former government took them when they fled the capital. So long as the King has money and funds, he will be able to feed resistance. Without them, his task will be that much more difficult.' He took a gulp of whisky, then leant forward and said, 'My dear Terboven, I really cannot stress enough the importance of capturing the King - before it is too late.'
'He and Prince Olaf are reported to be on the coast now,' said Scheidt. 'At Molde.'
'Thank you, I have read the reports,' said Terboven. He turned back to Quisling. 'Yes, well, thank you, Herr Quisling. We will speak again, but now, if you don't mind, I will bid you good night. As you can imagine, there is much to be done, not least a battle to be won.'
He stood up, signalled Scheidt to remain, and led Quisling to the door. Scheidt watched him shake the Norwegian's hand. It had been a masterly performance: Terboven had shown himself to be well informed yet had listened to the Norwegian; he had been cool and authoritative, but gracious too. He was, Scheidt realized, a formidable opponent.
And right now he was an opponent. It was how it worked in the Party as Scheidt had learnt early in his career. Climbing the ladder was about jockeying for position, backing the right horse, and outmanoeuvring potential rivals. So far it had worked: he had patrons high up in Berlin and had been given the backing to groom Quisling - backing that had come with the Fuhrer's personal support for the Norwegian. Two weeks before, on the eve of the German invasion, Scheidt had believed everything was in place, and that nothing could go wrong. Quisling would be the new prime minister in name, but as Scheidt had known all along, the Norwegian was far too indecisive and lacked the charisma to be anything more than a German puppet. Scheidt would pull his strings.
But Ambassador Brauer had lost his nerve and messed everything up. How that fool could have expected the King to roll over, Scheidt still struggled to understand. The days that had followed the invasion had required resolve and cool nerve, but Brauer had panicked, sacking Quisling as prime minister and bringing in the ludicrously ineffective Administrative Council in the false hope that this would satisfy the King. It had achieved no such thing. And in doing so, he had committed the biggest mistake of all: he had angered the Fiihrer and been recalled to Berlin, his political career finished.
Scheidt knew that he himself was hanging by a thread, but he had not crawled up the Party hierarchy without learning two other golden rules: to trust no one, and always to keep something up one's sleeve. Terboven was in Norway with far-ranging powers - powers that Scheidt could not hope to undermine. However, in this new regime there was still a part for him to perform - an important one, if he played his hand correctly.
With Quisling gone, the new Reichskommissar wandered over to the window and looked out over the city. 'Not an impressive man,' said Terboven, 'and yet, as his political adviser, you pushed for him to remain as prime minister.'
Scheidt remained seated. 'I never viewed him as anything more than a malleable stooge,' he said, after a moment's pause. 'What one has to remember is that Quisling, for all his obvious failings, has unwavering loyalty to Germany, as the Fiihrer clearly recognizes. He is, you know, a devout Christian and a highly regarded academic. He passionately believes, Herr Reichskommissar. This is what Brauer failed to appreciate. Quisling lacks resolve and charisma, but his assessment was right. The Administrative Council is a disaster. Devious and not to be trusted.'
'They sound like perfect Party members.' A thin smile. Terboven came back to his chair opposite Scheidt. 'And what about the King? Is he right about him? Should we worry, or should we simply announce the abolition of the monarchy?'
'In my opinion,' said Scheidt, carefully, 'he is right.'
'And about the bullion and jewels?'
'Resistance needs funding. So yes.' Scheidt shifted in his seat. Was this the time to reveal his hand? Timing was everything, yet Terboven's implacable face was so hard to judge.
'There's something more, isn't there, Herr Scheidt?'
He smiled again. 'It's all right. Feel free to speak frankly.'
By God he's good, thought Scheidt. 'The bullion and Crown Jewels are not with the King,' he said at length.
'Go on.'
'There are more than fifty tons of gold. I'm afraid we've lost track of it - we were not quick enough off the mark when the Norwegian government fled Oslo. It's been hidden, I'm certain, but they have to move it in bulk because if they try to split it up it will never be brought back together. Too many people will have to become involved and they cannot risk that.' He shrugged. 'People will steal it - that's human nature. I have no doubt that at some point an attempt will be made to smuggle it out of the country - but we will catch them. We have complete mastery of the skies and the Norwegians cannot hope to move fifty tons of gold without being spotted.'
'You sound very confident.'
'Fifty tons would require a special train or a convoy of trucks to move it. Of course we will find it. It's just a matter of time. And patience.' Terboven had not taken his eyes from his. 'Some of the important Crown Jewels, however, are with a small group of the King's Royal Guard led by a certain Colonel Peder Gulbrand, and we have been tracking them more closely. We lost them a few days ago, but have now located them again.'
'And why are these men not accompanying the King?'
'They were. I saw them with Brauer on the tenth of April at Elverum. But they came back to Oslo.'
'Surely not to get the jewels?'
'No. To collect a man.'
'Who?'
'Someone more valuable than gold,' said Scheidt. He saw Terboven blink then watched as the Reichskommissar removed his spectacles and carefully cleaned them with a silk handkerchief. A chink at last, he thought.
'Are you going to tell me who this man is?' said Terboven, slowly. It was couched as a question, but it might as well have been a direct order.
'We're not yet certain of his name,' Scheidt lied, 'but what he knows is literally worth liquid gold.'
Terboven offered Scheidt a cigarette from a silver case, then took one himself. The aide hurried over with a lighter and for a moment the Reichskommissar's face was partly hidden in pirouetting smoke. 'Leave us a moment, please,' he told the aide. When the two men were alone, Terboven said, 'Don't try to play games with me, Herr Scheidt.'
Scheidt took a deep breath. He could feel a line of sweat running down his back. His heart thumped.
Terboven drew on his cigarette, then tipped back his head and exhaled. 'And what measures are you taking to capture him?'
'It is in hand, Herr Reichskommissar.'
'I could have you arrested and tortured, you know.'
