D-Notice by Bill Walker (big ebook reader txt) 📗

vellum matching that of the envelope. The first sheet had a list of six names:

1) Friedrich Rainer

2) Werner Reinholt

3) Wilhelm-Franz von Schliefen

4) Baldar von Arnwolf

5) Ludwig Jarmann

6) Manfred Valdemarr

The rest of the sheets held a lengthy typed message:

“My Dear Comrade: Now that you have seen the Russo-Finnish tragedy for yourself, I now entrust you with our lives.... The list you hold in your hands contains the names of those of us who have, for years, opposed Der Führer’s expansionist policies, knowing as you do, that they could only result in catastrophe.

“We have met secretly for these many years in order to establish ties with the West, and work within this tyrannical system in order to bring about its demise. Alas, the Gestapo is far too vigilant. It is wholly ironic that because of this madness our Führer calls “The Great Struggle,” the opportunity for us to act has arisen.

“The attack on Russia in these past weeks has produced massive victories that have lulled the populace into a temporary state of euphoria that we know cannot last. For Herr Hitler has forgotten the hard lessons Napoleon learned over one hundred years ago, lessons that are even now being learned at a terrible price in human currency. I pray that your government will listen, and realize that with Hitler out of the way, Stalin is our real enemy. For if we fail, the world will suffer under the yoke of Communism as it has never suffered before.

“I pray that fate will be kind to both our countries and that after this conflict has ended that you and I can reunite in friendship. If anything should happen, tell the world. They must know that we tried to save it from two madmen. With the evidence I have given you, I trust action will be taken. Godspeed, my friend. Hauptmann Friedrich Rainer, OKH.”

Stunned, Michael handed Rainer’s letter to Erika. He watched her face while she read it, registering every nuance of her reaction. He waited until she’d finished, then reached for the larger envelope, untying the ties with hands that trembled with suppressed fear and excitement.

He then upended the envelope and watched as a sheaf of photographs spilled out onto the table. Under the glare of the fluorescent lighting, the stark black and white images seemed to pulse with a sort of hyper-reality. There were only a dozen prints, each carefully mounted on a board and captioned in German on the piece of paper glued to the back. There were shots of the overall scene: bodies piled on top of each other—the cliché of cordwood came to his mind, closeups of eyeless faces and arms and legs twisted in horrific postures impossible during life. One picture brought him up short, a photo of his father wearing a German Army uniform standing next to another German officer, their faces grim and haunted. It had to be Rainer, Michael thought. Aside from the oddity of seeing his father in a German uniform, it was doubly strange to see him in any other context than the one picture he’d known his entire life. The smile was missing, and that changed the whole complexion of the man, made him seem vulnerable, less godlike.

Suddenly weary of it all, Michael picked up the envelope to replace the photos. It was then the last item fell out, sliding onto the table with a metallic clatter. It was a cap badge, its silver luster now tarnished nearly black. He brought it up for a closer look and felt the world drop out from under him. The letters fairly screamed at him: Royal South Wessex Inf. Reg.

“Oh, my God,” he said in a strangled whisper.

“What is it, Michael?”

He handed her the badge and began scooping up the photos.

“I don’t understand. What does it mean?”

“It means this is bigger than we thought. Come on, we’ve got to get out of here.”

Michael rose and opened the door to the cubicle. Erika grabbed his arm. “Wait. Let’s see if there’s a back way.”

They returned to the front of the vault and caught the eye of the teller.

“Is there another way out of here,” Michael asked him.

The teller barely registered any surprise. “I’ll take you through the lunchroom. Follow me.”

After walking through a minor labyrinth of corridors and storerooms, they found themselves back out on the street around the corner from their Toyota. Moments later, they were safely away. For the next few minutes, Michael drove around in circles, taking left and right turns at the last possible moment, all in an effort to ascertain whether they were being followed. He saw at least two silver-gray Jaguars, but neither one was the same model as the one that had tailed them from East Grinstead.

Erika, who had remained silent since they left the bank, finally spoke, her voice tight with fear.

“Tell me what we have, Michael. What was that badge?”

“It’s from a regiment my government says never existed. Except it did...once. Those photos were all that was left of them. Your father and the people he worked for, invited my father to come and see for himself, and to report back to his government.”

Erika shook her head in confusion. “But it doesn’t make sense. You’re telling me that my countrymen invited their enemy into captured territory during wartime in order to view this massacre? Why?”

“Because they wanted the world to know they didn’t kill those men.”

“Then who did?”

Michael ignored the question, his eyes scanning the rearview for any suspicious vehicles. Everything looked normal.

“You ever hear of Der Weisse Adler?” he asked.

Erika shrugged. “The White Eagle? No.”

“I remember reading about them in school. They were a cabal of Wehrmacht officers dedicated to Hitler’s overthrow; officers determined to have a democratic Germany join