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.
