“What’s at the top of the North Tower?” Purdue asked.
“I know the SS planned to construct another hall, like the SS Generals Hall above it, but apparently it was never built,” Nina recalled from a dissertation she once wrote about mysticism practiced by the SS and unconfirmed plans to use the tower for rituals.
Purdue mulled it around in his head for a minute. As Sam emerged from the doctor’s office Purdue nodded. “Okay, I’ll bite. It’s the closest thing we have to a clue. The North Tower is definitely the place.”
Sam looked like a wounded soldier fresh out of Beirut. His head was bandaged to keep the antiseptic ointment on his face for the next hour. For the damage to his eyes the doctor gave him drops, but he would not be able to see properly for the next day or so.
“So, there goes my turn to drive,” he jested. “Vielen dank, herr doctor,” he said wearily in the worst German accent ever visited on a native of Germany. Nina giggled to herself, finding Sam utterly cute; so pathetic and displaced in his bandages. She wished she could kiss him, but not while he was obsessed with Trish, she promised herself. She left the smitten general practitioner with a kind farewell and a handshake and the three made their way to the car. Awaiting them in the near distance stood the ancient building, well-preserved and brimming with atrocious secrets.
Chapter 27
Purdue arranged hotel rooms for each of them.
It was odd that he did not share a room with Sam, as he usually did, since Nina had locked him out of all privileges with her. Sam figured he wanted to be alone, but the question was why. Since they left the house in Cologne, Purdue had been acting more seriously and Sam did not think Agatha’s sudden departure had anything to do with it. Now he could not readily discuss this with Nina, because he did not want her to fret over something that could be nothing.
Just after their late lunch, Sam removed his bandages. He refused to walk around in the castle wrapped like a mummy and be the global laughingstock of all foreigners who passed through the museum and surrounding buildings. Grateful that he had his sunglasses with him, he could at least hide the hideous state of his eyes. The whites around his irises were a dark pink and the inflammation had turned his eyelids maroon. All over his face the tiny cuts stood out in bright red, but Nina convinced him to let her apply some of her makeup over the scratches to make them less noticeable.
There was just enough time to visit the castle and see if they could locate what Werner was referring to. Purdue did not like guessing, but this time he had no choice. They were going to the SS Generals Hall and from there they would determine what stood out, if anything peculiar struck them at all. It was the least they could do before their pursuers caught up with them, which was hopefully narrowed down to only the two Rammstein clones they had gotten rid of. Still, they were sent by someone and that someone would send more lackeys to take their place.
When they entered the beautiful fortress with its triangular shape, Nina remembered the stone masonry that had been integrated so many times as the buildings were demolished, rebuilt, added on, and adorned with tower heads throughout the past since the ninth century onward. It remained one of the most prominent castles in Germany and she especially favored its history. The three of them went straight for the North Tower, hoping to find that Nina’s theory held credence.
Sam could hardly see properly. His sight was altered so that he could see mostly the outlines of things, but other than that everything was still hazy. Nina hooked her arm into his and led him, making sure he did not take a tumble on the myriad steps in the structure.
“Shall I take your camera, Sam?” Purdue asked. He was amused that the journalist with hardly any sight preferred to pretend that he could still take pictures of the interior.
“If you wish. I can’t see a bloody thing. It’s pointless to even try,” Sam lamented.
As they entered the Obergruppenführersaal, the SS Generals Hall, Nina cringed at the sight of the motif that was laid into the gray marble floor.
“Wish I could spit on it without drawing attention,” Nina sneered.
“On what?” Sam asked.
“That fucking sigil I hate so much,” she replied as they crossed over the dark green sun wheel that depicted the symbol of the Order of the Black Sun.
“Don’t spit, Nina,” Sam advised dryly. Purdue walked ahead, once again in a type of daydream state. He lifted Sam’s camera, concealing his spyglass between his hand and the photographic apparatus. With the spyglass set to IR function he scanned the walls for any objects hidden within. On thermal imaging mode he found nothing but temperature fluctuations in the continuity of the masonry when he checked heat signatures.
While most of the visitors showed interest in the memorial to Wewelsburg of 1933–1945, situated in the former SS guardhouse at the castle forecourt, the three colleagues looked hard for something distinctive. What it was they did not know, but with Nina’s knowledge of especially the Nazi era of German history, she would be able to tell when something was out of place in what was to become the spiritual center of the SS.
Beneath was the infamous vault, or gruft, a tomb-like structure sunken in the foundations of the tower to resemble Mycenaean-domed sepulchers. At first Nina thought that the curious drainage holes in the sunken circle below the dome’s swastika zenith could factor into the mystery, but she needed to go upward according to Werner’s writings.
“I can’t help but think there is something in the dark down there,” she told Sam.
“Look, let’s just go up to the highest elevation of the North Tower and look out from there. Whatever we are looking for is not inside the castle, but outside,” Sam speculated.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Like Purdue said… semantics…” he shrugged.
Purdue looked intrigued, “Do tell, my good man.”
Sam’s eyes burned like hellfire between his lids, but he could not look at Purdue when he addressed him. With his chin dropped on his chest, sucking up the pain, he continued, “Everything in the last part refers to external things, like lightning and the rising prayers. In most theological depictions or old etchings, prayers are shown as smoke that rises up beyond walls. I really think we are looking for an outbuilding or an agricultural section, something outside the place where the gods threw the fire,” he elucidated.
“Well, my devices could not distinguish any alien objects or anomalies inside the tower. I say we go with Sam’s theory. And we had better do it quickly, because the dark is nigh,” Purdue affirmed, giving Nina the camera.
“Right, let’s go,” Nina agreed, slowly pulling at Sam’s arm so that he could move with her.
“I’m not blind, you know?” he teased.
“I know, but it’s a good excuse to hold you against me,” Nina smiled.
There it is again! Sam thought. The smiles, the flirting, the affectionate help. What is her agenda? He began to wonder why she told him to let go, then, and why she told him that there was no future. But now was hardly the time for an interview concerning matters of no consequence in a life where every second could be his last.
From the platform atop the North Tower, Nina set her gaze over the stretch of pristine beauty that surrounded Wewelsburg. Apart from the quaint and neat rows of residences along the streets and the different hues of green that surrounded the village, there was not much else that could bear any significance. Sam sat with his back against the top part of the exterior wall, so that his eyes would be spared the cold wind that haunted the crown of the bastion.