A Game of Spies Read Free

Who could have blamed them for trying to regain what rightfully had always been theirs?
    Beneath this line of reasoning had run an unspoken current. If a larger war was to come, then it would come with the Russians, the Untermenschen, and not with the civilized people to the West. Expansion to the East was where Germany’s true destiny lay. Hitler had always made this clear, even when he had been nothing but a failed street artist and a proselytizing convict. He had laid out his plans in plain black and white in the pages of Mein Kampf.
    But then those in the West had made it clear that they would stand up to German aggression in Poland, after having not stood up so spectacularly at Munich, and as a result they had drawn Hitler’s attention in their own direction. The Führer had conducted some hasty diplomacy, and suddenly everything had changed. The Nazi-Soviet pact had been signed, effectively closing off the East as an option, at least for the time being. Poland had been divided as spoils of war between the new, uneasy allies. And now Hitler’s Wehrmacht was focused toward Belgium, Holland, and France—and beyond that, England. The Low Countries would fall easily. Once France had gone, the British would have no choice but to make peace. So now it was only a matter of time.
    â€œKlinger,” the balding man went on after a few moments, “is not the most ambitious of men. He likes his vices too much. Until now he’s been a loyal, if uninspired, soldier of the Reich. But our benefactors have discovered an interesting fact about Herr Klinger—one that makes them look at him in a slightly different light.” The man paused. “It concerns his father.”
    Two riders on horseback, wearing military regalia, were approaching the bench. The man fell silent until they had passed. Eva’s eyes followed the horses longingly. Once she had ridden a great deal herself—long ago, when she had been very young, when the world had seemed filled with simple pleasures.
    â€œThe elder Klinger was a professor at the University of Berlin,” the man said quietly. “A teacher of the natural sciences. When the Reich Minister of Education began to force the curriculum of Rassenkunde on the faculty, however, Herr Klinger resisted.”
    His eyes were unfocused, staring into the middle distance. He took the cigar from his lips and exhaled a stream of blue-tinged smoke into the wind.
    â€œHe was outspoken with his criticism. One night in 1934, he vanished. He has not been heard from since.”
    My people, Eva thought darkly.
    â€œNow. Our benefactors have no particular reason to believe that Herr Klinger is anything but faithful to the Reich. The fate of his father, however, leads them to speculate that perhaps he harbors certain … feelings … which he has kept to himself.”
    Eva murmured assent.
    â€œIf the man did have such feelings—and if he was acquainted with certain higher-ranking men at Zossen, who would be capable of gleaning hints about Hitler’s plans …”
    â€œI understand,” she said.
    â€œGood. But you must tread softly. We do not know just where his loyalties lie.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAs I said: Klinger likes his vices. He can often be found at the bar of the Hotel Adlon after working hours, drinking and looking for women. He also likes his wife. But she exacts a high price for his infidelities. Jewels and furs. Herr Klinger is in rather serious debt. There are, you can see, several possible avenues of approach here.”
    Eva nodded once more, and began to twist a lock of hair around her index finger.
    â€œYou must present him with an opportunity—a chance to remove himself from his financial straits, and at the same time to seek justice for the fate of his father.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut softly—softly.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTime is of the essence,” the man said. “Our benefactors are