Heydrich avoided conversation with me until well after we had risen from the table and were out on the terrace again with brandies and cigars – or in my case, coffee and cigarettes. It was there that he caught my eye and, having walked me down the Upper Castle’s back garden, finally explained the point of my being there.
‘You remember our conversation at my office in Berlin, the day we defeated the French. In June 1940.’
‘I remember it very well. How could I forget the day when Germany defeated France? So that’s what this is all about.’
‘Yes. Again, someone is trying to kill me.’
I shrugged. ‘Any number of Czechos must want you dead, sir. I assume that we’re not discussing one of them.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Has there been a recent attempt on your life?’
‘You mean, am I imagining this?’
‘All right then. Are you?’
‘No. There was an attempt made to kill me just days ago. A serious attempt.’
‘When, where and how?’
‘At the Wolf’s Lair. Hitler’s own field headquarters, in East Prussia. Yes, I thought that would surprise you. As a matter of fact I was surprised myself. It was September 24th. I had been summoned to Rastenburg to be told by Hitler that he was appointing me as von Neurath’s successor, here in Bohemia. Well that’s the when and where. The how is that someone tried to poison me. Toxicologists in the SD’s laboratories are still trying to isolate the particular substance that was used. However, they’re inclined to believe that it may have been a protein-based toxin called botulinum. From Latin
‘That sounds especially lethal, for a German.’
‘It’s a bacterium that often causes poisoning by growing in improperly handled meat. I might have assumed it was just a simple case of food poisoning were it not for the fact that some of our SS doctors have been trying to synthesize it and other antibiotic compounds such as sulphanilamide. As a means of treating wound infection. But also as a compound neurotoxin. Or to put it another way, as a poison.’
‘Perhaps it was a simple case of food poisoning,’ I said. ‘Have you considered that possibility?’
‘I’ve considered it. And I’ve rejected it. You see mine was the only food that was contaminated. Fortunately I wasn’t hungry and didn’t eat. Instead I fed the food off my plate to Major Ploetz’s dog, which subsequently died. Obviously the Leader could not have been the target because he is vegetarian. Naturally, all inquiries that could be made without alarming the Leader were made; and all of the foreign workers at the Wolf’s Lair were replaced, as a precaution. But so far, nothing has been discovered that sheds any light on who was responsible for the incident. And there I feel we have to leave the matter. At least as far as Rastenburg is concerned. As I say, I have no wish to alarm or embarrass the Leader. But here in Prague I am able to take other precautions. You, Gunther, are to be one of these precautions, if you agree.’
‘So you want me to do what? Be your food taster?’ I shrugged. ‘You should have mentioned this before lunch. I’d have sat beside you.’
Heydrich shook his head.
‘Keep a lookout for someone who might be trying to kill you? Is that it?’
‘Yes. In effect I want you to be my personal bodyguard,’ said Heydrich.
‘You mean you have four adjutants and no bodyguard?’
‘Klein, my driver, is quite capable of pulling out a gun and shooting at some witless Czecho. As am I. But I want someone around me who understands murder and murderers, and who can handle himself, to boot. A proper detective who is trained to be suspicious.’
‘The Gestapo isn’t known to be naïve in my experience.’
‘I want someone who is usefully suspicious as opposed to officious.’
‘Yes, I see the difference.’
‘And since I can’t offer the position to Hercule Poirot naturally I thought of you.’
‘Hercule Poirot?’
Heydrich shook his head. ‘A fictional detective created by an English lady novelist. It doesn’t matter. You’re obviously not a reader. He’s very popular. And so is she.’
I shook my head. ‘You know that most bodyguards are supposed to care about what happens to their employers, don’t you?’
Heydrich grinned. This didn’t happen very often, and when it did his youngish, beaky face looked more like a nasty schoolboy’s.
‘Meaning you’re not qualified, is that it?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I can get any number of “yes” men from the SD,’ said Heydrich. ‘The trouble is, will they be honest with me? Will they tell me unpalatable truths? What I need to know? And can I trust them?’
‘It’s true, sir. Without a gun in my hand you’re not an easy man to contradict.’
‘You, I’ve known for five years. I know you’re not Himmler’s man. I know you’re not even a Nazi. I know you probably hate my guts. But while you almost certainly dislike me I don’t believe you would actually murder me. In other words, I can trust you, Gunther; trust you not to kill me; and trust you to tell me those unpleasant truths that others would shrink from. That seems to me to be essential for what I need from a bodyguard.
