It was clear that it was me who’d been betrayed by her; and yet, as I started speaking, it somehow felt as if it was Arianne who was being betrayed by me.
I guess it made it easier that I despised myself so much, not for what was said now but for what hadn’t been said before – in the Ukraine, and immediately afterward. I hardly counted the short lecture I had given Heydrich on my first day at the Lower Castle. I had tried to believe that in spite of all that I had seen and done in the East I was a person like her, with a sense of moral purpose and values. As a matter of fact I had no such qualities; and I didn’t blame her in the least for wanting to kill me. In Arianne’s eyes, I deserved to be shot, like everyone wearing an SS or SD uniform, and I couldn’t argue with that. Whatever happened now or in the future, I had it coming to me. We all did. But if my plan was going to work – if I was to prevent her from further suffering – I had to make certain Heydrich understood what I said in the only way he could understand it: not out of pity for Arianne but out of loathing and contempt for her, and a desire for revenge. A sense of my true feelings for Arianne would only have caused her more harm. And for her sake I had to kill any love I had for her, and kill it quickly, too. I had to harden my heart until it was made of iron. Like a true Nazi.
I fished out my cigarettes and lit one to give myself some puff for what I was about to do. It wasn’t easy with my hands manacled to a chain. Nothing about what I was doing was easy. I blew some smoke at the ceiling for nonchalant effect and leaned back against the wall. How much Arianne heard of what I said next, I don’t know. None of it, I hope.
‘It looks like I’ve been had all right.’ I sighed. ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time a fellow like me got given the slow trot around the Tiergarten by a pretty girl. Only it’s been a while since I was dummied as well as she managed it. Christ, at my age I should know better, of course, but since I stopped believing in Santa Claus I don’t get many presents that are as nicely wrapped as this little half-silk.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m not making excuses, General. That’s just how it is for a man who likes to think he’s still in the game. And I don’t sleep so well on my own any more. The same as Captain Kuttner. She was my version of Veronal. A lot easier to swallow. But probably just as lethal.’
I allowed myself a wry smile.
‘So, she tried to send me upstairs, did she? Bitch. And after all I tried to do for her. That really sticks a hole in my sock. Go ahead and wash her hair again, Sergeant, why don’t you? I’m all through pulling my chain about it. Hell, now I can see why she was jumpy when she got out of bed this morning. I thought she was sad because she had to go back to Berlin. Because we were to be parted. What a chump I’ve been. She’s quite a liar, I’ll say that for her. It strikes me that you fellows have got your work cut out there, with or without the water board. You could send her to the guillotine and the head on that little cunt would still talk its way out of the basket. And, by the way, make sure you send me a ticket. That’s one party I wouldn’t want to miss. Who knows? Maybe I can help to put her there myself. Because you know, it strikes me that the ration is short on that story of hers, and that maybe I can make up the weight. In fact, it would be my pleasure.’
Heydrich gave me a narrow-eyed look as if he was trying to estimate the distance between what I was saying and what he believed. It was like facing a suspicious parent and, moreover, one who was such a practised liar himself that he knew precisely what to look for in establishing what was true and what was not. An art expert with a picture of uncertain provenance could not have been more thorough in the way he studied the brushwork and checked the signature on the contrary picture I had painted for him.
‘Such as?’ he said, coldly.
‘Such as Victor Keil’s real name was Franz Koci.’ I flicked my cigarette into the bathwater as if I hardly cared that Arianne’s head might yet be ducked in it. ‘I know that because I was the cop who investigated his death; and at the special invitation of your friend Colonel Schellenberg. He was found dead in Berlin’s Kleist Park. After the collision she mentioned, with the taxi on Nollendorfplatz, he must have staggered down Massen Strasse. We found him under a big red rhododendron bush with the knife he’d used on the Dutchman, Geert Vranken, still in his possession.
‘I’ve been thinking about the letter I received from Vranken’s father, in the Netherlands. And how Paul Thummel was the character reference Geert gave the police when he was a potential suspect in the S-Bahn murders. Well, because Thummel had had some sort of relationship with Vranken’s sister, he must have found out from her, I suppose, that Vranken was working on Berlin’s railways. That must have been the reason the Abwehr asked to see the files on the S-Bahn murders; which they did; and in particular the interviews with all the foreign workers. The official excuse was that they were on the lookout for spies; but in reality, Thummel must have been on the lookout for Geert Vranken. He was the only person in Germany who could connect him with his Czech controller in The Hague. And when he saw Vranken’s statement, which mentions knowing a German officer who might vouch for him, Thummel must have panicked. Most likely Vranken was killed by Franz Koci at Paul Thummel’s specific request.’
Heydrich was nodding now. ‘Yes, that makes sense, I suppose.’
‘Either he radioed the request to UVOD here in Prague or, as seems more likely, he told Arianne. Probably she was the cut-out between Thummel and Franz Koci, who she knew better as Victor Keil.’
Heydrich continued nodding. This was a good sign. But an even better one was to come.
‘Horst.’ Heydrich waved at Colonel Bohme. ‘Release him.’
A little reluctantly – he still hadn’t forgiven me for being a better detective than he was – Bohme produced a key from the pocket of his riding breeches and unlocked my manacles.
I rubbed my wrists and muttered a thank you. I didn’t say anything about Arianne, who remained strapped to the bascule balanced over the bath of water. It was crucial that Heydrich believe that his revelation about her part in the plot to kill me meant I was now indifferent to her immediate fate; and it was equally crucial that my story was both plausible and authoritative, even though a lot of it was based on sheer guesswork, so that it would seem there was little real point in torturing Arianne any more; at least for the present.
To my enormous relief he now came to this conclusion.
‘Take the woman back to her cell,’ he told Sergeant Soppa.
‘Yes sir.’
Soppa and the other man laid the bascule down on the wet floor and started to unstrap Arianne. She groaned slightly as the buckles were released, but it was hard to tell if her heavily bruised eyes were open, so I had no way of knowing if she saw me.
Either way, it was certainly the last time I ever saw her.
‘Let’s continue this conversation in your office upstairs, Horst,’ said Heydrich. ‘Gunther?’ Now he was ushering me out of the interrogation cell, ahead of him.
I walked toward the door. My heart was on the floor alongside Arianne’s bedraggled, half-drowned body, twisting over and over like a dying trout.