End of Spies by Alex Gerlis (best free ereader txt) 📗

up and down the corridor before closing it again. Then he pulled up a chair and leaned forward.

‘There are escape lines for Nazi war criminals operating across Europe, and from what we gather, they’re far more prevalent in the American, British and French zones than in ours. We want to know more about these escape lines: we want to know who’s on them and where they end up. We think Italy is the main destination, because there are plenty of people there who’ll help them, and they can also then escape through the Italian ports. Friedrich Steiner may well be on one of those escape routes – if you can find out anything about them, it could help us track him down.’

‘You mean you want us to supply you with intelligence?’ Hanne had raised her voice slightly, and Gurevich indicated that she should lower it.

‘I’m suggesting we share information. To show you evidence of my goodwill, there is something about Wolfgang Steiner I didn’t mention. Please be careful about how you use this intelligence, though. Come closer.’

They shifted their chairs so their knees were almost touching.

‘This is in Wolfgang Steiner’s file. You won’t be able to read it, as it’s in Cyrillic script, but it says “possible link with RLB and der Fluchtweg Falke”, followed by the letters FFM, V and T.’

‘Fluchtweg would mean escape route, I think,’ said Hanne, ‘but I’m not sure what Falke means – is it a kind of bird?’

‘It’s a shortened form of the word Turmfalke – a kestrel. I’m not sure who added that note to the file; officers pick up scraps of intelligence and just include them, when really they should be putting in more detail, like where they got it from, and then identifying themselves… but this goes on all the time. People are so busy. My guess is that whoever put that in got it from an interrogation and was in a hurry. I’m trying to track down the officer. My supposition is that this is a reference to an escape line – that’s what der Fluchtweg would mean. Kestrel is probably its code name.’

‘And the initials?’

‘FFM almost certainly stands for Frankfurt am Main: those initials are often used to differentiate it from the smaller Frankfurt, which is on the River Oder and is usually abbreviated to FFO. My guess is that the Kestrel escape line starts in Frankfurt, and the V and the T are the initials of places it goes to, but where those are is anyone’s guess. I have no idea what RLB stands for.’

‘If you say these escape lines end up in Italy, then the V could be Venice,’ suggested Prince.

‘And the T – Turin, possibly?’

‘I think Turin is more than possible. True, it isn’t a port, but it’s near Genoa, which is the main port the Nazis are using. Look, I think we’re guessing, Hanne, but let’s hope this helps you find him. All I ask is that you share with me what you discover about the escape line. In the meantime, I’ll try and find the officer who made that note on the file.’

Tom Gilbey had reluctantly remained in the safe house in Wilmersdorf. He’d thought about coming to the east of the city to meet Gurevich but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of exposing himself. He was as upset as Prince and Hanne were at the news of Franz Rauter’s death, but soon turned his attention to Friedrich Steiner.

‘At least we now know who the Ferret is, so we should be able to pick him up soon enough. Now that his name’s on our watch lists, it should only be a matter of time before we find him.’

Both Hanne and Prince looked surprised at his optimism.

‘What do you make of the note on the file about the Kestrel escape line?’ Prince asked.

‘May be something in it – but then where on earth do you start?’

‘Frankfurt? That seems to be the first place mentioned. Perhaps we should…’ Prince stopped himself.

‘Perhaps you should what?’

‘Nothing, sir, just a thought.’

‘Which was?’

‘I was going to suggest that maybe Hanne and I ought to go to Frankfurt; there might be some kind of clue there about Steiner and the Kestrel escape line.’

‘I think that’s a good idea.’ Hanne looked interested. ‘We came over here to find the Ferret: I never like leaving a case only half investigated for someone else to solve.’

‘Very well then: you can go to Frankfurt – but only for a few days, and then that’s it. I’d imagine you’d want to be getting home anyway, eh?’

Chapter 12

Frankfurt, Germany, October 1945

‘How much longer am I expected to remain in this prison?’

‘It’s hardly a prison, Friedrich – how many prisons have carpets, and pictures on the wall? Before the war this was a smart guest house.’

‘So you keep telling me, Ulrich – and one frequented by Jews: I imagine you chose it as some kind of joke?’

‘I know we had to get you out of Munich in a hurry, and Frankfurt didn’t feel much safer, to be honest, but this place does. And it’s ideal: it’s set apart from the neighbouring houses, so no one can see what’s going on, and because of the damage to the roof, the Americans won’t requisition it. Can you please take your feet off that table? People eat from it.’

The younger man gave the older one a dirty look, clearly resentful at being told what to do. ‘People! What, you’re planning to hold a dinner party, eh? At least I’d then have someone else to talk to. Maybe you could even invite a woman. Apart from you, I’ve not seen a soul for weeks.’

Ulrich asked Friedrich to light him a cigarette: it was an action he still struggled over with one arm. Friedrich lit one for himself first and took a few drags from Ulrich’s before passing it to him.

‘I keep telling you, Friedrich, you don’t appreciate how ideal this place is. Even though we’re just, what, ten, twelve