As they climbed into the car, Kelly started it and switched the heater to maximum. He drove away from the prison down Beusselstrasse and made his way across the city, eventually passing in front of Schloss Charlottenburg. As Kelly turned left into Königin-Elizabeth-Strasse, Manteufel glanced over to him.
“Where are we going, Colonel?”
“To Heer Strasse,” Kelly responded.
Manteufel studied him with a half-smile on his lips, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise, and his tone containing just a hint of sarcasm. “Colonel, I live in Berlin, I know we’re going to Heer Strasse, but where then?”
Kelly chuckled. Manteufel was a changed man. He imagined he could be good company after a few beers.
“I’m taking you to a safe house near the Olympic Stadium. There are a number of apartment blocks there, most of which are used as married quarters for British soldiers, but two blocks have been reserved for the families of German civilians in key military positions. You have been allocated one of the apartments temporarily, until you can get back on your feet. You’ll be safe there, surrounded by Senior Non-Commissioned Officers and their families.”
Manteufel shook his head. He was clearly shocked by what Kelly had told him. “But why are you doing this for me?”
“Well in the first place, I owe you, but don’t be deceived, my motives are not entirely altruistic. I need information—a lot of information—and I need your help to interpret that information.”
They both sat in silence as Kelly turned north off Heer Strasse before turning into a residential street and pulling up alongside one of the apartment blocks. Kelly was about to climb out of the car when a glance at Manteufel, who had made no effort to open the car door on his side, told him that something was wrong. He settled back into his seat.
“What’s the problem, Horst?”
“There are a number of things, Colonel. Please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but I’m worried about paying for this apartment,” Manteufel confessed. “What if I can’t get a job?”
“The rent will be taken out of your wages,” said Kelly matter-of-factly.
Manteufel stared at him, looking distinctly bemused. “What wages?” he asked, frowning.
“Ah! Sorry, Horst, I forgot to mention it. I have received a job offer for you from the CO of the RASC Squadron in Alexander Barracks. He’s desperate for good, well-qualified civilian drivers, and I noticed from your record that you qualified to drive heavy vehicles when you were serving in the Fallschirmjäger. Of course, you don’t have to take the job, if you can find something else which doesn’t involve the black market or moving people around Germany illegally.”
Again, Manteufel looked stunned.
“Anything else?” asked Kelly.
Manteufel hesitated. “The young soldiers I worked with in the bunker—privates and corporals—a few of them are still around in Berlin. We pretend not to recognise each other when we meet by chance. I couldn’t give then up, Colonel.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to, Horst. I’m after much bigger fish.”
“You mean Müller?”
“That’s precisely who I mean,” confirmed Kelly.
“I wouldn’t have a problem giving him up if I could,” said Manteufel. “Pure evil.”
“There is still something on your mind, I think.”
Manteufel sighed. “All that you have done for me is wonderful, but it means nothing without Gudrun and the children. I’m at my wits end wondering how I can get them out of the East. You know well that I can get in and out without too much trouble, but getting a woman and two children out past the Russians? That’s easier said than done.”
“You’ll think of a way, Horst, I’m sure of that. Come on, let’s look at this apartment.”
The apartment blocks were small, containing only four apartments, two on the ground floor and two on the first. Kelly led the way through the large central door and up the stairs, turning right at the top then fumbling in his pocket until he produced a key. Swinging the door open, he gestured to Manteufel to enter.
“In you go, soldier,” he said as he followed the German. A long hallway led to the living room with a bedroom and bathroom on one side, and another bedroom and kitchen on the other. Manteufel opened the door of the living room and stepped through, then stopped dead as if rooted to the spot. There in front of him stood Gudrun and the two children.
“How … why …” he began as he tried to talk, but gave up as his eyes filled with tears and he rushed into the arms of his wife, trying to embrace her and the two children at the same time.
Kelly started back down the corridor. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon, Horst,” he called over his shoulder, but he doubted if anyone heard.
The Wolf at the Door
Rahn and Sybilla drove away from the pottery in silence, travelling back around the riverside road. Glancing across at her, Rahn said, “You look pensive. Problem?”
“Fournier is suspicious. I don’t think he believes our account of events.”
Rahn chuckled. “Paul is a good man. He is also an excellent detective. I have no doubt that he knows exactly what went down at the pottery.”
“Doesn’t that bother you? Why did you not just tell the truth, that I fired the shot?”
Rahn shook his head. “Think about it. You are an alien in an extremely sensitive French protectorate. You have used a firearm to kill a man. Faced with that admission, Paul would have had no alternative but to initiate a full enquiry. This would have involved numerous telephone calls and letters to your security chiefs in London, plus formal written exchanges at embassy level, and all that time you would have been held in custody. At the end of it, you
