The Bormann Testament Read Free Page B

him you must see the manuscript, or at least part of it. If necessary, call Sir George in to meet him. Tell him that Sir George has a big interest in the firm, that the publishers have asked him to accompany you as an evidence of their good faith.”
    Sir George got to his feet. “Yes, indeed, Mr. Chavasse. You can rely on me to do anything I can to help.” He smiled. “It’s like old times, being on the inside of a thing like this, but now if you’ll excuse me, I really must go. The train leaves Liverpool Street at ten and I’d like an hour or two in bed before then.” He held out his hand with a smile. “If you’ll take my advice, young man, you’ll do the same thing. You look as though you could do with it. I’ll see you on the train, I hope.”
    The Chief ushered him out of the door and then came back. He sat down behind his desk. “Well, what do you think?”
    Chavasse shrugged. “It all depends on Muller. Have we got anything on him?”
    “I’ve had the files checked,” the Chief said, “but this seems to be the first time we’ve come into contact with him. Of course, we have no description and he may have used another name previously.”
    “Did he say what his connection was with Bormann?”
    The Chief shook his head. “That also is a complete mystery, I’m afraid.”
    Chavasse picked up the envelope that contained his passport and tickets and slipped it into his pocket. “What about German intelligence? Will they be in on this?”
    The Chief shook his head. “I thought about that, but decided against it for the moment. I don’t want things to get confused. If the affair gets out of hand and you decide you need some local help, telephone me here. Ask for Mr. Taylor and use the name Cunningham. Just say that business is booming and you could use some help. I’ll bring German intelligence into it at that point.”
    Chavasse nodded slowly and got to his feet. “That seems to be everything. I think I’ll take Sir George’s advice and go back to bed.” He started to move to the door and then paused. “By the way, how much can I count on him?”
    “On Sir George Harvey?” The Chief shrugged. “Well, he’s an important man and we don’t want any international scandals. I think you’ll find he’ll do anything within reason to help. He was a great success at the Ministry during the war, you know.”
    Chavasse nodded. “I’ll try not to use him if I can help it, but he might be just the extra thing needed to make Muller believe I’m on the level.”
    “That’s what I thought,” the Chief said. He came round the desk and held out his hand. “Anyway, good luck, Paul. I think you’ll find this is a pretty straightforward job. Whatever happens, I’ll see you get that holiday after it’s all over.”
    Chavasse opened the door and half-turned, a curious smile on his lips. “I’m sure you will,” he said dryly, and closed the door before the Chief could reply.
    Jean Frazer had gone, and judging by the neat and orderly condition of her desktop and the cover on the typewriter, she was not coming back. He went slowly downstairs, his mind going back over the interview, recalling each remark made by the Chief and Sir George, shaping them into a coherent whole.
    The car was waiting for him outside and he climbed in beside the driver and sat hunched in his seat, wrapped in thought, all the way back to the flat. One thing puzzled him. Assuming the whole thing was genuine and not a hoax, then why had Bormann decided on this time rather than on any other to offer his memoirs for publication?
    The war had been over for fifteen years—years during which Bormann had successfully evaded discovery by the intelligence agents of all the Great Powers. Why then should he now set off on an undertaking that, by its very nature, would start the most colossal manhunt in history—with himself as the quarry?
    Chavasse was still thinking about it as he undressed at the flat, but it was a problem that could have