some kind of fuel consumption calculation for a new projectile, called a rocket.’
Dönitz spoke urgently. ‘Keep your voice down! It is not safe to speak of such things over the telephone, who else knows about this?’
‘Only my orderly has heard the Professor speak. There is also the squad who searched the Professor’s office.’
‘Move them all to Berlin. In any event, the squad will be useful for providing armed protection on your journey. I will send you fresh replacements. Bring the pages of the document with you. There are other physicists here who could interpret this information.’
‘Very good Admiral, it will be done.’
‘Keep the papers safe… and the Professor.’
‘Yes, Admiral, I will attend to this immediately, Heil Hitler!’ Kessler snapped to attention as the phone went dead.
So, a change of duties: from interrogator to protector. The Professor would arrive safely in Berlin. He would make sure of it. Besides, there would be plenty of opportunities to quiz the Professor later. Nonetheless, it was odd; the theft from Mayer’s office on the
same
day as the telegram arriving from Berlin. Had there been a security breach? Suspicious, Kessler headed for the telegraph.
Kessler scanned the layout of the radio room. It was a small box room with no external windows, crammed into the corner of the office. Everything seemed in order: a desk, chair, some notepaper, the usual communications log book, and the telegraph itself.
‘Pass me the log.’
‘Yes, my Commandant.’ The fresh-faced radio operator extended a shaking hand with the log book.
Kessler flicked through the pages. Everything seemed neatly recorded.
‘Has anyone else been in the radio room?’
‘No, sir. Only me and I always lock the door when I leave, sir.’ The radio operator swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.
‘Move aside!’
The young radio operator vacated the box room. Kessler took his place over the desk. He ran his hand around the edge of the desk, then checked down the back of the telegraph. Nothing – a telltale layer of dust suggested no sign of tampering. Kessler rubbed the dust on his fingertips. ‘Are you sure no one else has been in the room?’
‘Yes Commandant, I am certain, only me.’
‘And you have the only key?’
‘Yes sir.’ The radio operator stiffened.
Clandestine use of telegraph didn’t seem plausible. There was only room for one person at a time in the radio room, and there was no hiding place for a private conversation.
‘Tell me, how long have you been with us?’
‘Three years, sir. Directly from the Signals Corps, sir.’ The radio operator stood firmly to attention.
Kessler nodded, he remembered hand-picking the young signals officer direct from the academy. The teenager was keen, and fresh from the tree; not yet corrupted by the spoils of the Wehrmacht. No, there
had
to be another explanation.
‘Where does the telegraph cable go from here? How is it connected to Berlin?’
‘Well, sir. The cable runs in the wall cavity to the ground floor, and joins the main bundle of cables under the building, and then into the street.’
‘Could anyone tamper with the cable from outside?’
‘Not likely, sir. The telegraph wire is bundled with a mixture of anonymous cables in the basement, and on leaving the building is further convoluted with more cables from all the other offices in the main street. Only a trained engineer could find the right wire, and even then, it would take some considerable time.’
Kessler nodded his appreciation. Nonetheless, he
would
have the entire length of the cables checked as a precaution. There was only one logical conclusion: the security leak must be in Berlin. If there
was
a leak? It could still be a coincidence. Was there some other chain of events that had brought the intruder to the Professor’s office on the same day as the telegram from Berlin? He would find out, and hang the culprit for treason.
CHAPTER 11
Leipzig Railway
Dönitz spoke urgently. ‘Keep your voice down! It is not safe to speak of such things over the telephone, who else knows about this?’
‘Only my orderly has heard the Professor speak. There is also the squad who searched the Professor’s office.’
‘Move them all to Berlin. In any event, the squad will be useful for providing armed protection on your journey. I will send you fresh replacements. Bring the pages of the document with you. There are other physicists here who could interpret this information.’
‘Very good Admiral, it will be done.’
‘Keep the papers safe… and the Professor.’
‘Yes, Admiral, I will attend to this immediately, Heil Hitler!’ Kessler snapped to attention as the phone went dead.
So, a change of duties: from interrogator to protector. The Professor would arrive safely in Berlin. He would make sure of it. Besides, there would be plenty of opportunities to quiz the Professor later. Nonetheless, it was odd; the theft from Mayer’s office on the
same
day as the telegram arriving from Berlin. Had there been a security breach? Suspicious, Kessler headed for the telegraph.
Kessler scanned the layout of the radio room. It was a small box room with no external windows, crammed into the corner of the office. Everything seemed in order: a desk, chair, some notepaper, the usual communications log book, and the telegraph itself.
‘Pass me the log.’
‘Yes, my Commandant.’ The fresh-faced radio operator extended a shaking hand with the log book.
Kessler flicked through the pages. Everything seemed neatly recorded.
‘Has anyone else been in the radio room?’
‘No, sir. Only me and I always lock the door when I leave, sir.’ The radio operator swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.
‘Move aside!’
The young radio operator vacated the box room. Kessler took his place over the desk. He ran his hand around the edge of the desk, then checked down the back of the telegraph. Nothing – a telltale layer of dust suggested no sign of tampering. Kessler rubbed the dust on his fingertips. ‘Are you sure no one else has been in the room?’
‘Yes Commandant, I am certain, only me.’
‘And you have the only key?’
‘Yes sir.’ The radio operator stiffened.
Clandestine use of telegraph didn’t seem plausible. There was only room for one person at a time in the radio room, and there was no hiding place for a private conversation.
‘Tell me, how long have you been with us?’
‘Three years, sir. Directly from the Signals Corps, sir.’ The radio operator stood firmly to attention.
Kessler nodded, he remembered hand-picking the young signals officer direct from the academy. The teenager was keen, and fresh from the tree; not yet corrupted by the spoils of the Wehrmacht. No, there
had
to be another explanation.
‘Where does the telegraph cable go from here? How is it connected to Berlin?’
‘Well, sir. The cable runs in the wall cavity to the ground floor, and joins the main bundle of cables under the building, and then into the street.’
‘Could anyone tamper with the cable from outside?’
‘Not likely, sir. The telegraph wire is bundled with a mixture of anonymous cables in the basement, and on leaving the building is further convoluted with more cables from all the other offices in the main street. Only a trained engineer could find the right wire, and even then, it would take some considerable time.’
Kessler nodded his appreciation. Nonetheless, he
would
have the entire length of the cables checked as a precaution. There was only one logical conclusion: the security leak must be in Berlin. If there
was
a leak? It could still be a coincidence. Was there some other chain of events that had brought the intruder to the Professor’s office on the same day as the telegram from Berlin? He would find out, and hang the culprit for treason.
CHAPTER 11
Leipzig Railway
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