The car pulled up to a hotel entrance, the six-story gleaming white building topped by a dome at one corner, the name Excelsior wrapped around it in big green letters, in case you didn’t get the point that it was a really fancy joint.
“Welcome to the German military headquarters in Rome,” Remke said. “Do not speak, and follow me.”
He opened the door for us and I offered Diana my hand, but she had the sense to remember I was dressed as a priest and walked up the steps liked she owned the place. Remke led me by the arm, maybe thinking I was going to sprint off, holding up my cassock the whole way. Inside, the palatial lobby was lit by chandeliers, the black-and-white marble floor dazzling. Shiny black boots clicked up a wide staircase as officers with red-striped trousers-signifying generals-went about their duties. A younger German officer, also wearing the Brandenburg cuff, rose from the couch and gave Remke a discreet nod. He opened a waiting elevator and accompanied us to the third floor. Without speaking, he opened the door to a suite and checked the rooms as we waited.
“Forgive the cloak-and-dagger dramatics,” Remke said, leading us into a spacious room where a table was set for three. Heavy gold curtains were draped over ceiling-level windows, and tapestries hung between ornate Roman columns. This place was gaudier than the finest suite at the Copley Square Hotel. “Banda Koch has raided convents and monasteries in Rome and found hidden Jews and Italian antifascists. Someone undoubtedly talked and identified Sister Justina as part of the O’Flaherty organization. It didn’t take long for the Gestapo to realize she was in custody for black-market violations.”
“Those buildings all have extraterritorial status as part of the Holy See,” Diana said. “How can that be allowed?”
“Pietro Koch is a monster, in a world of monsters,” Remke said. “I have heard even Mussolini fears him. The Gestapo lets him operate because he is effective, and his status as a Fascist police commander allows them to disavow his actions when he goes too far. There has already been a diplomatic complaint lodged by the Vatican, and apologies are being made by the German ambassador.”
“But Koch was able to torture enough refugees to get the information he wanted,” Diana said.
“Yes. But now, we shall sit and eat. We must not let Koch ruin your appetite, Miss Seaton,” Remke said, pulling out the chair for her.
“After the food at the Regina Coeli, it will take more than one psychotic Italian to do that,” she said, and Remke looked almost embarrassed. I studied Diana as she sat, pulling her light-brown hair back, adjusting the starched white napkin on her lap. Strange, how normal even the most absurd moments can seem. That morning I hadn’t known if I’d find her half dead or if I’d be put against a wall and shot. Now here we were, with bone china and cut crystal set out before us. A table prepared in the presence of mine enemy.
“What is this document you want me to take to the Vatican?” I asked, trying to shake the confusion and cobwebs loose. “Something other than the Auschwitz Protocol, if I understand you.”
“First, we will eat. I must leave Rome soon, and the way the war is going, I may not have another chance to enjoy the delights of the Excelsior’s kitchens.”
So we ate. I was actually hungry, despite dining under the noses of the German high command, with an Abwehr agent who’d probably saved Diana from torture and death at the hands of the Gestapo, and who wanted me to be his personal messenger boy to the Pope. We started with artichokes, along with plates of olives and mozzarella, then salmon and asparagus with pasta. Washed down with a couple of bottles of wine. I needed to be taken prisoner more often.
Remke inquired after Colonel Harding, and I told him he was fine. I asked about his aide, whom I’d last seen in Algiers. Dead, Remke said. On leave to visit his family in Hamburg, he was killed in a nighttime bombing raid. Except he called it terror bombing. I didn’t debate the point and we moved on to more pleasant conversation. He and Diana chatted about Bernini and Caravaggio and other artists I’d never heard of. Finally, when the dishes were cleared away and coffee was brought in, we got down to business.
“First, the conditions,” Remke said. “I will give you a document. You must deliver it to Monsignor Giovanni Montini, in the Vatican State Department. We understand he is involved in smuggling funds to refugee organizations in the north. He is most likely to be sympathetic and pass this on to Pope Pius.”
“Monsignor O’Flaherty mentioned the refugee work,” I said. “He should be able to get me to see Montini.”
“I do not care how you do it. But when you speak to O’Flaherty, warn him to keep within the Vatican walls. The Gestapo wants him dead. There was even talk of a sniper picking him off from outside, but fortunately that operation was canceled.”
“I doubt he’d ever give up his post on the steps of the basilica, sniper or not. But I’ll give him your message. Now, what’s so important about this document?”
Remke leaned in, his voice almost a whisper, even with no one else in the room. “There will be another assassination attempt in the near future. We almost succeeded last month, when one of our men was selected to demonstrate new winter uniforms for Hitler. He had dynamite in a briefcase, which he was ready to set off as the Fuhrer approached.”
“What happened?” Diana asked.
“Herr Hitler canceled at the last minute. That man has the devil’s own luck. Now another officer, who is often called upon to brief Hitler on the Russia front, has volunteered to shoot him at the next opportunity. He is scheduled to go to the Berghof, Hitler’s mountain retreat, next week.”
“The document lays this all out?” I asked.
“Yes. This time, there is more information about the conspirators. My name, among others. I am handing you a noose with which you could hang us all,” Remke said. “Give it to Montini, and ask him to forward it to the English. There are two copies. I will count on you to send one to General Eisenhower, likely through your Colonel Harding.”
“You know Churchill and Roosevelt agreed to nothing less than the unconditional surrender of Germany,” I said.
“I have to believe that is nothing but propaganda, to mollify the Soviets. It is the greatest gift they could possibly have given the Nazis. Now they can state that no mercy will be given, that Germany will be lost unless the war goes on. It is ridiculous,” he said. “Once the coup has succeeded, we will disarm the SS, arrest the surviving leadership, and retreat from Italy up to the Alps. We will request a cease-fire with the Soviets, and pull back to our borders as they were at the start of the war. All this will take time, and we need to know the Western Allies will not act against us as we do so.”
“Just like 1940,” I said.
“Yes, but in 1940 the Soviets were our allies. Now the Russians march west, and will not stop until they have swallowed all of Europe.”
“And in 1940 the world didn’t know about the extermination camps,” Diana said. “If there’s a chance to stop the war and save tens of thousands of lives, it’s worth taking, Billy.”
“What happens to Diana?” I asked, not quite as eager as she was.
“She will remain here, as my guest. In somewhat better accommodations than the Regina Coeli. But under lock and key, guarded by a female agent. Until you complete your mission.”
“I guess it is worth a try,” I said, meaning that it was worth keeping Diana out of jail. I doubted Remke’s plan would work, even if they did manage to knock off Hitler. I wasn’t as sure as Remke that the unconditional surrender demand was window dressing, and I knew the Russians, after losing millions of lives, would not let the German Army slip away intact. From what I knew of them, it wasn’t their way of doing business. “How will you know if I’ve done my part?”
“I will require an acknowledgment. From Monsignor Montini. A receipt, if you will. Written confirmation that he has the documents in hand.”
“And then Diana is free? My two friends also?”
“Yes. You have my word.”
Remke seemed like the sort who’d take offense if I questioned his word, so I let that slide. “You don’t want an acknowledgment that I passed it onto Colonel Harding?”
“How could you not?” Remke said. “That document and the Auschwitz Protocol are probably two of the most valuable intelligence finds of the war. Your colonel would be quite displeased if you did not deliver them immediately.”
“Okay,” I said, knowing he was right. Harding would kill for this stuff, and Diana had made it her mission to
