vetoed this scheme of yours.'
Radl stared at him dumbly. His blood ran cold. Himmler said gently, 'It would not be in accordance with his general aim and that aim is not the victory of the German Reich in this war, I assure you.'
That the Head of the Abwehr was working against the State? The idea was monstrous. But then Radl remembered the Admiral's acid tongue. The derogatory remarks about high state officials, about the Fuhrer himself on occasions. His reaction earlier that evening. We have lost the war. And that from the Head of the Abwehr.
Himmler pressed the buzzer and Rossman came in. 'I have an important phone call to make. Show the Herr Oberst around for ten minutes then bring him back.' He turned to Radl, 'You haven't seen the cellars here, have you?'
'No, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'
He might have added that the Gestapo cellars at Prinz Albrechtstrasse were the last places on earth he wanted to see. But he knew that he was going to whether he liked it or not, knew from the slight smile on Rossman's mouth that it was all arranged.
.
On the ground floor they went along a corridor that led to the rear of the building. There was an iron door guarded by two Gestapo men wearing steel helmets and armed with machine pistols. 'Are you expecting a war or something?' Radl enquired.
Rossman grinned. 'Let's say it impresses the customers.'
The door was unlocked and he led the way down. The passage at the bottom was brilliantly lit, brickwork painted white, doors opening to right and left. It was extraordinarily quiet.
'Might as well start in here,' Rossman said and opened the nearest door and switched on the light.
It was a conventional enough looking cellar painted white except for the opposite wall which had been faced with concrete in a surprisingly crude way. for the surface was uneven and badly marked. There was a beam across the ceiling near that wall, chains hanging down and coil spring stirrups on the end.
'Something they're supposed to have a lot of success with lately,' Rossman took out a packet of cigarettes and offered Radl one. 'I think it's a dead loss myself. I can't see much point in driving a man insane when you want him to talk.'
'What happens?'
'The suspect is suspended in those stirrups, then they simply turn the electricity on. They throw buckets of water on that concrete wall to improve the electrical flow or something. Extraordinary what it does to people. If you look close you'll see what I mean.'
When Radl approached the wall he saw that what he had taken to be a crudely finished surface was in fact a patina of hand prints in raw concrete where victims had clawed in agony.
'The Inquisition would have been proud of you.'
'Don't be bitter, Herr Oberst, it doesn't pay, not down here. I've seen generals on their knees down here and begging.' Rossman smiled genially. 'Still, that's neither here nor there.' He walked to the door. 'Now what can I show you next?'
'Nothing, thank you,' Radl said. 'You've made your point, wasn't that the object of the exercise? You can take me back now.'
'As you say, Herr Oberst.' Rossman shrugged and turned out the light.
.
When Radl went back into the office, he found Himmler busily writing in a file. He looked up and said calmly, 'Terrible the things that have to be done. It personally sickens me to my stomach. I can't abide violence of any sort. It is the curse of greatness, Herr Oberst, that it must step over dead bodies to create new life.'
'Herr Reichsfuhrer,' Radl said. 'What do you want of me?'
Himmler actually smiled, however slightly, contriving to look even more sinister. 'Why, it's really very simple. This Churchill business. I want it seeing through.'
'But the Admiral doesn't.'
'You have considerable autonomy, is it not so? Run your own office? Travel extensively? Munich, Paris,
Radl stared at him dumbly. His blood ran cold. Himmler said gently, 'It would not be in accordance with his general aim and that aim is not the victory of the German Reich in this war, I assure you.'
That the Head of the Abwehr was working against the State? The idea was monstrous. But then Radl remembered the Admiral's acid tongue. The derogatory remarks about high state officials, about the Fuhrer himself on occasions. His reaction earlier that evening. We have lost the war. And that from the Head of the Abwehr.
Himmler pressed the buzzer and Rossman came in. 'I have an important phone call to make. Show the Herr Oberst around for ten minutes then bring him back.' He turned to Radl, 'You haven't seen the cellars here, have you?'
'No, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'
He might have added that the Gestapo cellars at Prinz Albrechtstrasse were the last places on earth he wanted to see. But he knew that he was going to whether he liked it or not, knew from the slight smile on Rossman's mouth that it was all arranged.
.
On the ground floor they went along a corridor that led to the rear of the building. There was an iron door guarded by two Gestapo men wearing steel helmets and armed with machine pistols. 'Are you expecting a war or something?' Radl enquired.
Rossman grinned. 'Let's say it impresses the customers.'
The door was unlocked and he led the way down. The passage at the bottom was brilliantly lit, brickwork painted white, doors opening to right and left. It was extraordinarily quiet.
'Might as well start in here,' Rossman said and opened the nearest door and switched on the light.
It was a conventional enough looking cellar painted white except for the opposite wall which had been faced with concrete in a surprisingly crude way. for the surface was uneven and badly marked. There was a beam across the ceiling near that wall, chains hanging down and coil spring stirrups on the end.
'Something they're supposed to have a lot of success with lately,' Rossman took out a packet of cigarettes and offered Radl one. 'I think it's a dead loss myself. I can't see much point in driving a man insane when you want him to talk.'
'What happens?'
'The suspect is suspended in those stirrups, then they simply turn the electricity on. They throw buckets of water on that concrete wall to improve the electrical flow or something. Extraordinary what it does to people. If you look close you'll see what I mean.'
When Radl approached the wall he saw that what he had taken to be a crudely finished surface was in fact a patina of hand prints in raw concrete where victims had clawed in agony.
'The Inquisition would have been proud of you.'
'Don't be bitter, Herr Oberst, it doesn't pay, not down here. I've seen generals on their knees down here and begging.' Rossman smiled genially. 'Still, that's neither here nor there.' He walked to the door. 'Now what can I show you next?'
'Nothing, thank you,' Radl said. 'You've made your point, wasn't that the object of the exercise? You can take me back now.'
'As you say, Herr Oberst.' Rossman shrugged and turned out the light.
.
When Radl went back into the office, he found Himmler busily writing in a file. He looked up and said calmly, 'Terrible the things that have to be done. It personally sickens me to my stomach. I can't abide violence of any sort. It is the curse of greatness, Herr Oberst, that it must step over dead bodies to create new life.'
'Herr Reichsfuhrer,' Radl said. 'What do you want of me?'
Himmler actually smiled, however slightly, contriving to look even more sinister. 'Why, it's really very simple. This Churchill business. I want it seeing through.'
'But the Admiral doesn't.'
'You have considerable autonomy, is it not so? Run your own office? Travel extensively? Munich, Paris,
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