“Two nice guys.”
“Yes. Aren’t they. But the best is yet to come. There is no hard evidence, but it is pretty certain that there is a central committee of escaped Nazis who handle large sums of money. The Germans are a very organized people. Even when they become mass murderers they maintain their love of routine. And remember, immense sums were looted from the occupied countries. Millions, perhaps billions of dollars. You don’t keep money like that buried in your back yard. Of course, a lot of them do, individuals who escaped with a bundle of their own. But we’re talking about the big money now. And these two, Hartig and Eitmann, are reported to be right at the top of the money circle. In fact it is rumored that they are next in the pecking order right under the infamous Dr. Joachim Wielgus himself.”
“Wielgus? I don’t think I know the name.”
“Very few people do. Wielgus was the right-hand man of Albrecht Spier, the so-called economic genius who arranged the financing of the Third Reich. In the beginning this was easy enough to do since the big corporations like Krupp were interested only in maximizing their profits. They had no trouble looking the other way when slave labor was needed to keep the factories operational. But as the war went on, more and more funds were needed as the bombing raids knocked out German production. That is where the good Herr Doktor Wielgus came into the picture. He was the one who took care of the nasty part of the financing. Arranging for the gold teeth to be knocked out of the corpses’ heads in the concentration camps, shaving these heads as well for the hair for mattress-stuffing, actually making soap from human fat — and all of this always for a good profit.”
“That’s… disgusting,” Diaz said. “I had no idea that people could sink that low. In my country torture and murder are commonplace but this… this is commercialization of evil.”
“People forget,” Hank said, the lines of his face set into a pattern of dark memory. “Or they are too young, born after the war. It is just part of history to them, like Ghenghis Khan and Napoleon. But it’s not that, not yet. People are still alive today with numbers on their arms and endless dreams of those concentration camps. And millions are dead who might be alive if the Germans had not been so determined to found their thousand-year Reich. Your South American dictators are very good at torture and execution but thank God they’ll never be able to match the scale of the Nazis.”
There was just silence between them for a moment before Diaz spoke.
“Tell me about the Nazis who still survive.”
“As I said, the Germans are a notoriously organized race,” Hank said, coldly and grimly, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. “But all of these things are a matter of public record. It all came out during the war trials. But, of course, by that time Wielgus had vanished. He was always a very invisible man. We have only one picture of him, and that is very old. Since he worked all over the map it has taken years to piece together his operation. It turns out to be the biggest financial one of all to take place during the decay of the Third Reich. When the handwriting was clear on the wall, some of the top people, like Goering, began to look for ways to get away with their loot. Wielgus was the man who arranged it for them. Swiss banks, sale of art treasures, transport of bullion, Wielgus did it all. Which is why there is still such a big interest in the man. The war is long over, many of the war criminals dead of old age and terminal syphilis. But the stolen money is still out there. The trail has been followed for a number of years, and all of the leads seem to come back to Wielgus sooner or later. Which explains the present interest in Hartig and Eitmann. They must be followed, watched…. “
“In the hopes that they lead you to the big fish?”
“Exactly so.”
“But in addition to maybe leading you to Wielgus, these men must be of interest in their own right. There is the possibility that they may be transferring funds?”
“It’s a good possibility. I know that certain people are very interested in these men. Do you know anything about Israeli intelligence?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, what I am going to tell you is no secret, but a matter of public record. The organization called Aman is basically a data-gathering group, they sort of coordinate all intelligence information no matter where it comes from. This is utilized by Shin Beth, primarily a counter-espionage organization, as well as the Mossad, the major and most important intelligence group of them all. The people from Aman were the ones who identified these two rotten apples — though they haven’t dug out anything about the three others yet. No sooner had this happened than the Mossad stepped in. They won’t say why they are interested, but we can make an educated guess. Something big is in the works. What and where I personally don’t know.”
Diaz smiled wryly. “You’ll pardon my saying so, Mr. Greenstein, but if you personally don’t know — then who does? You’re the one who called me in here in such a great hurry…. “
“On the insistence of others. I have just mentioned the names of a few organizations to you. Some of them are more than very interested in these Wazis. I have been pressured to obtain information from you.”
“Well, now you have it.”
Hank Greenstein rubbed his jaw and sighed. “I have it — but that doesn’t mean I can make any sense out of it. A South American dictator, a pair of aging Nazis who board a British ship in South Africa…. “
“And an American Jewish lawyer along with a refugee Paraguayan politician, that really makes sense of the whole thing.”
“What a mish-mash!” Hank Greenstein started to laugh. Leandro Diaz had to smile himself.
“I’m afraid I never learned that word in my English studies, Mr. Greenstein.”
“Hank, if you please. And you didn’t learn it because it’s not English but Yiddish. It means something like a big mix-up, a screwed up situation of some kind.”
“It certainly is all of that. We will just have to get more information, that is the long and short of it. I just wish we knew now where the infamous Major Jose de Laiglesia is. He was the one who booked the tickets on the QE2. He’s the one who would have some answers to these questions that are puzzling us so.”
“The word will be sent to my people to look out for him. We’ll let you know if we find him.”
“Please do that — and we’ll do the same in return. Call me at this time tomorrow and we’ll arrange another meeting, set up some sort of constant liaison.”
“That is very good, thank you. Until tomorrow then. I’ll let myself out.”
They shook hands and Diaz left. Hank waited a moment after he had gone, then went to the door and opened it a crack to look out. The hall was empty. He closed and locked the door then dropped back into his chair, resting comfortably again on the end of his spine.
“OK,” he said. “He’s gone.”
The connecting door to the next office opened and a thin, dark-skinned man with black hair and a hawk-like nose came in. He looked very much like an Arab, in fact he spoke such perfect Arabic that he had passed as an Arab many times. The name most people knew him by was Uzi Drezner. There was no reason to suppose that it was any more his real name than the many others he used. Even though he kept the lowest of profiles, made sure that the newspapers did not know of him or publish his photograph, his reputation was nevertheless known in certain circles. He worked very closely with Simon Wiesenthal in Vienna and was reputed to have masterminded the Eichmann kidnapping. His most recent success was in tracking Oberstsurmbannfuehrer Rauff to Punta Arenas in Chile. Rauff, who was responsible for the murder of 100,000 people had been a prime target for years. His presence here, in Hank’s office, was some measure of the importance attached to the photographs.