Chapter 10
Meeting Reinhart Heydrich
As Eicke had instructed, Hilda had dressed more formally than usual, in a navy blue suit and white blouse. She wore the necklace that Willy had given her on the night of their engagement. She had no idea why Eicke had asked her to dress like this. Perhaps she would be meeting officials, grateful for her efforts to locate Scottish airfields on their behalf.
Alternatively, perhaps they had found her out.
Outside the Gestapo headquarters in Hamburg two armed guards stood at ease. Their outsized riding trousers were immaculately creased at the front. They stared straight ahead. Their metal helmets almost covered their eyes. Guard duty when the nation was not at war struck Hilda as a rather menial role, but they performed their duties with exemplary efficiency, coming to attention smartly, as she approached.
She was about ten steps away from them when they unsheathed their ceremonial swords and presented arms as she turned to walk between them. She did not look back, but judging by the boot stamping which followed, they were once again at ease. She, on the other hand, was not.
She reported to the reception desk where a young woman looked up at her.
‘I have an appointment with Herr Eicke this morning at ten a.m. I appreciate I am a few minutes early.’
‘Your name please.’
‘Frau Hilda Richter,’ she said, keeping her voice firm.
Without saying another word, the receptionist lifted her telephone and held it to her ear. There was no one else around, but Hilda heard the sound of boots, stiletto heels and metal studs drumming with importance on the marble floors above. She had visited this building frequently in the past; it used to be the city’s main post office. The state police had commandeered it, but the marble floor and most of the many paintings remained. On each floor, however, space for a portrait of Adolf Hitler was essential. His posture would face her on every landing when she climbed the stairs.
‘Frau Richter, SS-Gruppenfűhrer Eicke is ready for you now. Proceed to the third floor and you will be met by someone to take you to him.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. SS-Gruppenführer! Either he had promoted himself, or he had earned his spurs to be a valued cog in the frenzied state machine. His new title gave Major Eicke increased authority. Would it be beyond his capabilities, she wondered? She had her doubts. She made her way up the carpeted steps, counting the floors. Not everyone was in uniform. Men dressed in double-breasted suits and brown leather shoes walked purposefully with files under their arms. Everyone seemed to have files. Was she the subject of one?
As she cleared the last step, a man in military uniform stepped smartly in front of her and clicked his heels.
‘Frau Richter?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Follow me, please.’
He took her to the end of the corridor, and then they turned left, stopping at the third door on the right. The nameplate caught her eye: SS-Gruppenführer Gerhardt Eicke, District Commander.
Her escort knocked on the door and entered, still holding the doorknob in his left hand. Hilda remained outside.
‘Frau Richter, mein Gruppenfhrer.’
‘Bring her in please.’ He rose from his chair and moved forward to greet her with a formal handshake, and they exchanged wide smiles.
‘I am very pleased to see you again, Frau Richter, especially this morning. But first tell me, are you well?’
‘I had a tiring voyage. It was not a smooth sail but I have recovered now. Good German air to breathe and fresh vegetables and meat, how could I not be healthy?’
Eicke laughed. He seemed much friendlier, a less intimidating man than when he suddenly appeared at her house with his ultimatum.
‘Today, I am glad to be back home in Germany,’ she said.
‘I’m pleased to hear that. There was not even the slightest doubt in my mind that you would return.’
‘Of course,’ she said to placate him.
‘Can you tell me more about how things are in the north of Scotland?’
‘Certainly, I can. I have met the Browns a few times now. They are very well suited to be in Britain. Their accents are very good, excellent in fact. Some people even think they are South African, and I can see why.’
‘Excellent. The Browns are coming up to their third year in Britain.’
Eicke opened his silver cigarette case. He extracted one and tapped it against the case.
‘You don’t smoke, do you?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘That’s right, I had forgotten.’
He lit his cigarette, drew in the smoke and exhaled as he turned towards her.
‘I could not help but notice your name on your door. Promotion, I see.’
He smiled proudly. ‘I began my professional life in the police, as you know. Then I transferred from the police to the state police, the Gestapo. Now I am in charge of the Hamburg question. The SS is driving it, and I’m at the helm in this city.’
‘The Hamburg question: you mean the Jews?’
‘It’s no secret. Hamburg is home to the largest Jewish population in the country. I shall address it. It is going to take time, as you can imagine. But they will be removed.’ He took another draw on his cigarette and tapped it into a gleaming ashtray.
‘Does this mean I won’t be communicating with you again? Will I report to someone new?’ she asked. She wondered if she should bring out her notebook and pencil to record this encounter.
‘No, I need to know what information you will provide in the future. It will come in useful, I assure you. My superiors are in agreement.’
‘Then you have plans for me to return to Scotland to spy soon?’ she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
‘Plans for you to return, yes. But not yet.’
‘Then what am I to do in the meantime?’ she asked with concern.
‘Your call last night explained every detail. You did well when you were in Scotland. I, and my seniors, are pleased with your work. Locating these farmers’ fields for small aircraft runways and the lack of troop movements, other than coastal defences, was much appreciated. You have indeed done well. Now we have a greater need for you. We would first like to improve your communication skills. You will learn to use new and better technology. We will give you a special state pass while you are in Germany and, in time, a cover British identity card for when you return. You will need photographs taken, and that is one reason I asked you to dress smartly.’
‘I see. Why did you not mention this when you telephoned? You could have told me.’
There was a pause, and Hilda wondered if she had gone too far. Her question was on the cusp of impertinence and that was not her intention. However, Eicke was not in a mood to throw his weight around.
‘Yes, I know. That’s true but I am meeting a senior officer at noon, here in my office. I could not tell you before. It is secret. You will meet him too. More than that, he wishes to meet you.’
‘Meet me? And who is he?’
‘As I said, that remains a secret for the time being.’
She walked along to the photographic studio in the back of the building. A light shone on a plain white wall with an umbrella directing the beam. A woman attended to her hair for the first picture, then placed a brooch to hide the top button of her dress. Hilda looked in the mirror and saw it was a gemstone swastika. A flash made her blink, then a second. Two photos, so far.