To Catch a King. Jack Higgins

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      3

      On Thursday morning just before noon, Schellenberg was working at his desk in his Prinz Albrechtstrasse office when the phone rang. He recognized the voice at once – von Ribbentrop.

      ‘Schellenberg, are you free? I’d like you to come over to see me at once.’

      ‘Anything special?’ Schellenberg asked the foreign minister.

      ‘A matter of the utmost importance to the Reich. I can’t discuss it on the phone.’

      Schellenberg called Heydrich at once and reported the situation, always aware of his rage at even the slightest suggestion of his personal authority being usurped. For once, Heydrich was more intrigued than anything else and told him to get on with it – with the promise of a detailed report later.

      Von Ribbentrop received Schellenberg in his private office at the Reich Chancellery.

      ‘Good of you to come, my dear fellow. Sit down and I’ll get straight to the point. I am speaking to you on behalf of the Führer himself on this matter, by the way, so we are talking of something with the highest security rating.’

      Schellenberg was immediately intrigued. ‘I see. Please continue.’

      ‘Did you by any chance meet the Duke of Windsor during his German tour in nineteen thirty-seven?’

      ‘No, I didn’t have that pleasure.’

      ‘What is your personal opinion about the way in which the English dealt with the crisis surrounding his abdication?’

      ‘It seems to me they handled the whole problem very sensibly. Tradition and responsibility had to take precedence over personal emotions.’ Schellenberg shrugged. ‘I don’t really see how the British government could have acted any differently.’

      Von Ribbentrop looked extremely put out. ‘I can see this is one matter about which you have been completely misinformed. The real reasons behind the pressure for the Duke to abdicate were political. He was too socially aware; too determined to change the decadent English society into something forceful and forward-looking. Something more suited to modern needs.’

      ‘I see,’ Schellenberg said dryly. ‘He told you this?’

      Von Ribbentrop didn’t seem to hear him. ‘He was much impressed with everything he saw in Germany. The Führer received him at Berchtesgaden. They talked together for an hour.’

      He paused at the window. ‘At the moment the Führer is totally immersed in the planning of Operation Sea Lion – the invasion of England – which is why he asked me to handle this most important matter for him.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘The Duke, as you know, was serving as a major-general with Allied forces in France. During the débâcle that followed our magnificent victory, he and the Duchess, with a few friends, managed to cross into Spain. They were in Madrid until recently. In fact the attitude of the Spaniards in the matter may be best summed up by this telegram I received from our Madrid ambassador, von Stohrer. I have a copy here.’

      He passed it across and Schellenberg scanned it quickly.

      The Spanish foreign minister requests advice with regard to the treatment of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor who were to arrive in Madrid today, apparently in order to return to England by way of Lisbon. They assume we may be interested in detaining the Duke here and possibly in establishing contact with him.

      Schellenberg handed the paper back. ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘It’s really very simple. The English are racially a part of our Germanic brotherhood. The Führer has no wish to destroy them. They could have an important part to play in the greater European ideal. He is convinced that, any day now, the British government will see this and will sue for peace. After all, they don’t have much choice. They’re finished.’

      ‘There’s still the Channel to cross,’ Schellenberg pointed out.

      ‘But there won’t be any need, don’t you see? And once a peace treaty has been concluded, there would be the question of the throne to consider. Much better for all concerned to see it occupied by a man loved by his people, who was also a good friend to Germany.’

      It was with difficulty that Schellenberg stopped himself from laughing out loud. ‘Are you really serious, Minister?’

      Von Ribbentrop seemed mildly surprised. ‘But of course. I have here a copy of a report sent to the American secretary of state on the second of July by their ambassador in Madrid in which he states that in a conversation with a member of the embassy staff, the Duke declared that the most important thing now was to end the war before thousands more were killed or maimed to save the faces of a few politicians.’

      ‘Which hardly makes him a National Socialist,’ Schellenberg said.

      Von Ribbentrop rolled on relentlessly. ‘The Duke and Duchess arrived in Lisbon recently and are staying at Estoril in the villa of a Portuguese banker, Dr Ricardo de Espirito Santo é Silva. On their arrival they found two British flying boats waiting to take them to England. The Duke sent them back. Refused to go. Don’t you find that interesting?’

      ‘Did he give a reason?’

      ‘According to our information, he insisted on the offer of a worthwhile post and assurances that the Duchess would be treated in future in full accord with her status as his wife.’

      ‘That seems reasonable,’ Schellenberg said. ‘They’ve hardly made the best use of his talents so far in this war. Has he had a reply?’

      ‘Apparently Churchill is offering him the governorship of the Bahamas.’

      ‘Clever,’ Schellenberg said. ‘And practical. Three thousand miles from the war. Has he accepted?’

      ‘Not СКАЧАТЬ