A Time for Vengeance Read online

  “Yes, I have a photograph from your department of two men with an identity check request.”

  “Ah, yes! I thought we’d sent it to SB.”

  “You did. They passed it to us.”

  “I see. And you can identify them?”

  “Possibly. I’d like to speak to the officer in charge.”

  “That’s Chief Superintendent Dyer, but he’s not here. It’s his rest day. If you’ll give me any information…”

  “Not on the phone. Get Dyer out of bed, or wherever he is, and ask him to see me urgently please. If you can’t raise him, send his deputy.”

  “Well, really, I’d like to know more about…”

  “There’s no time for that Commander. I’ll expect Dyer or his deputy within the hour.”

  The Director, who was not renowned at the Yard for his good maimers, slammed the phone down before the Commander could say any more.

  *

  Detective Chief Superintendent Reginald Dyer reached SS(0)S headquarters exactly forty minutes after the Director’s call.

  Tall, slender, with a slight stoop and thinning gray hair, he had mild blue eyes, which had fooled many criminals and which concealed a keen, analytical mind.

  He expected shortly to be promoted to Deputy Commander; and he had no doubt that he would end his career as Commander of the City and Metropolitan Police Company Fraud Department – better known as the Fraud Squad – at Scotland Yard.

  Dyer glanced at the photograph on the desk and then looked at the Director.

  “I gather that you can identify these men, sir?”

  “Possibly. But first tell me more about them. Where was this picture taken, and when?”

  “It was taken a week ago by an FBI agent on a beach in Ecuador.”

  The Director’s eyebrows arched in surprise.

  “Really! And where do you come into this?”

  “It’s possible that these men could be connected with a case we’re investigating at the moment in cooperation with the FBI. In fact the FBI informed me last night that they think one of the men might be called Mueller. Can you confirm that, sir, and possibly name the other?”

  The Director’s bushy eyebrows slid down to mask his eyes.

  “This case you’re working on, Mr. Dyer. Tell me about it.”

  The Chief Superintendent hesitated.

  “Well, sir, I hardly think…”

  The eyebrows shot up again, exposing the policeman to an icy glare.

  “Mr. Dyer! I imagine you know something about the work of my department. We are concerned with the security of our country. You seem to think it’s all right to co-operate with the FBI, so now you can damn well co-operate with me. I can tell you this, though. That man, the thin one, is Erich Mueller. The other is Gerhard Kohner. Both were SS officers during the war – and my department is interested in both of them. We have a file that thick on them…” the Director held up a forefinger and thumb. “…but before I decide whether to help you, tell me about the case.”

  The Fraud Squad officer sighed.

  “It’s a long story, sir.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s a bit complicated, and it’s difficult to know where to begin.”

  “Simplify it, and begin at the beginning,” the Director suggested helpfully.

  “Right, sir!” Dyer leaned forward, marshaling his thoughts.

  “I’ll have to go right back to the end of the war. When Berlin fell in 1945, a special Intelligence unit of the Red Army looted a large amount of German securities from the vaults of the Reichsbank.”

  The SS(0)S chief nodded.

  “Yes. I know about that. Go on.”

  “Well, some of these securities have just turned up. They’ve been offered for sale here in London, and in New York. We believe that the people trying to sell them are agents acting on behalf of the Russian Government.”

  “Then, surely, this automatically makes it a security matter,” said the Director.

  “The London bank which was asked to negotiate the sale of some of the bonds on behalf of a New York agent got in touch with Scotland Yard,” replied Dyer. “The FBI are looking into other securities offered for sale on the American market.”

  “I see. What exactly are these securities?”

  “German Government 5 1/2 per cent Gold Debt Bonds. There are also a number of mixed bearer bonds. The Americans believe that all these bonds, together with gold bullion and jewelery, were removed from the Reichsbank vaults on May 15, 1945, by Feodor Novikov, a Red Army Intelligence major.

  “The gold and jewelery have never been seen since. At various times, small amounts of the bonds have turned up in Holland, Switzerland, Israel, Tangiers and West Germany – but never in the quantities that are being offered now in London and New York. These have a face value of £27 million.”

  The Director whistled silently.

  “And what has Scotland Yard done about it so far?”

  “We’ve been in touch with the German Federal Bank in Frankfurt. They’ve decided not to honor the bonds unless a proper title to ownership is clearly established. They think the bonds were probably smuggled out of East Germany to the West to finance Russian Intelligence work.”

  “Very likely,” said the Director heavily. “But the bonds won’t be honored anyway?”

  “No. Under the London Debts Agreement of 1953, because many bonds seemed to have fallen into Russian hands, all pre-war Reich Government liabilities were withdrawn and new bonds issued to replace them. In any case, the view was taken that, because the original owner was a German Government bank, the bonds legally belong to the present West German Government.”

  “So it would be very difficult for anyone to sell the looted bonds?”

  “Yes, indeed. And all banks have been warned about them. So it’s no great problem.”

  Dyer paused, and then said slowly: “Unfortunately, in addition to the £27 million Gold Debt Bonds, about £15 million worth of looted German industrial bearer bonds are also being offered for sale.”

  The Director looked puzzled.

  “And?”

  “And that’s a very different kettle of fish. The Federal Bank say they have to be very careful in rejecting claims for payment on these bonds. They could have been owned originally by Jews who disappeared in the concentration camps.”

  “Ah!” exclaimed the Director. “And that’s where our friends Mueller and Kohner come in.”

  “I don’t understand, sir.”

  “It was a racket they ran on behalf of the SS and Gestapo to swell their funds: ‘Give us all your valuables, and we’ll see that you escape from Germany.’ Of course, it never made any difference. The poor devils still ended up in the concentration camps. But go on with your story. I’m interested to know how your FBI friends traced Mueller and Kohner to Ecuador.”

  “Luck really, sir. You see, the last time any German Government Gold Bonds turned up in any quantity was in 1961, when a bank in Tangiers began dealing in them.

  “When inquiries were started, the bank suddenly announced that it was moving to Panama. Somehow the bank, the bonds and about £2 million of depositors’ money got lost en route, and nothing has been heard of them since. Just over a week ago, when more Gold Bonds appeared on the American market, the FBI sent an agent down to Panama to do a double check.”

  “In case the bank had finally arrived there from Tangiers after eleven years?” asked the Director.

  Dyer smiled. “That’s right, sir. The FBI man found no trace of the bank; but he did see two men he knew to be Israeli Secret Service agents, and he sent back a routine report about them.

  “His superiors in Washington put two and two together: Israeli agents in that part of the world are usually after German war criminals, so they played a a hunch and ordered their man to follow the Israelis to find out what they were after.”

  “Just in case there was a link with the looted Gold Bonds, eh?” />
  “Exactly, Director.”

  “Hmm. And they led him to Mueller and Kohner in Ecuador.”

  “That’s right, sir. The FBI chap had no orders to interfere and he didn’t know who the Germans were. So he stayed under cover, kept watch, and took photographs.”

  “These,” said the Director picking up the pictures on the desk and studying them once more.

  “Yes, those.”

  “So where are Mueller and Kohner now?” the SS(0)S chief asked quietly.

  “We don’t know, sir.”

  “What?” The Director’s voice was sharp. “Didn’t the FBI agent follow them?”

  “He couldn’t, sir. According to his report, the Israelis were taken off guard. The thin man, Mueller, was in the habit of going fishing every afternoon in a small boat. But on the third afternoon, he didn’t come back. He just carried on straight out to sea. Then the fat man, who you’ve identified as Kohner, made a break for it, heading for a nearby town… I forget the name of it… with the two Israelis after him.

  “The FBI agent followed, of course, and heard the sound of shots. Then he found the Israelis. They’d been shot in the back.”

  “That was Kohner all right,” said the Director grimly. “Just his style. Go on.”

  “The American caught up with Kohner at the railway station in this town… damn! I can’t remember… ah, yes, Esmeraldas. They traveled in the same train from Esmeraldas to a place called Quito, which has an international airport.

  “Kohner was booked on a flight to Panama, but there were no seats left, and the FBI agent had to wait until the next day. He discovered that Kohner was traveling under the name of Gerhard Hartmann, and put a call through to his headquarters to warn them. But by the time the FBI were able to get a man to the airport at Panama, the plane had landed – and Kohner had vanished.”

  The Director nodded slowly, and was silent for a few moments. Then he said: “I’ve been wondering how Kohner came into this. The last we heard of him he was in East Germany, working for the SSD.”

  “SSD, sir? Who are they?”

  “Staatssicherheitdienst – the equivalent of Russia’s KGB,” replied the Director, frowning at the interruption.

  “It seems to me that the SSD must have known the Israelis had found Mueller,” he continued, “and they sent Kohner to do a rescue act. It must have been prearranged, because Kohner was working to a timetable. He spirited his friend away under the noses of the Israelis – I expect Mueller was picked up at sea – and then he just had time to get to the airport at Quito where, don’t forget, his plane seat was already booked.”

  Dyer nodded. “Yes, sir, that seems logical.”

  “The question is,” the Director went on quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself, “why should the SSD go to all that trouble for a hasbeen like Mueller? Hmm?”

  Dyer looked blank.

  “I can’t imagine, sir.”

  “Well I can. Or I can make a jolly good guess, Mr. Dyer. And now I’m going to tell you something which is for your ears alone. You must not repeat it.”

  “Sir?”

  “Those Gold Bonds were looted from the Reichsbank by the Russian, Novikov, all right.

  “But some time before that, a vast amount of gold bullion and jewelery, probably worth about £200 million, was removed from the vaults by Mueller and his men. It was Mueller’s job to… er… dispose of it.

  “He did the job with his usual efficiency – and I can assure you that, contrary to popular stories and rumors, that bullion is not lying at the bottom of some lake. It has been converted long ago into hard cash. You would never be able to trace it, Mr. Dyer, and it doesn’t concern you. It has nothing to do with the Gold Bonds you are investigating – nor do Mueller and Kohner have anything to do with your case.”

  “But…”

  “And so I’m ordering you now to drop all inquiries about Mueller and Kohner. They are a matter for my department.”

  “I can’t do that,” protested Dyer.

  “You can and you will.”

  Dyer’s face reddened angrily.

  “I don’t take orders from your department, Director, and I shall…”

  “I’ve no doubt that your Commander will be giving you fresh orders soon, Chief Superintendent,” the SS(0)S chief interrupted. “By all means continue your inquiries into the bonds. But forget about Mueller and Kohner – and all I’ve just told you.”

  “Sir, I object most strenuously to…”

  “Thank you for calling, Mr. Dyer. Good morning.” The Director pressed the intercom switch to terminate the interview.

  “Miss Peach, will you show the Chief Superintendent out.”

  Chapter Two

  When the door closed behind the Scotland Yard officer, the Director picked up the green telephone, which linked him to his control room.

  “Duty officer.”

  “This is Williams speaking, sir.”

  “Good. Is Dingle still on leave?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Have him recalled immediately. And where is Jones?”

  “In America on liaison duty. Doing a getting-to-know-you act.”

  “I know that dammit!” The Director’s voice was tetchy. “Where in America?”

  “With the FBI at the moment, sir.”

  “Well alert him to stand by to return at a moment’s notice.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  “Wait a minute. I haven’t finished yet. I want a general call put out to all our agents in Germany – particularly East Germany – for any information on two former SS officers: Erich Mueller and Gerhard Koh-ner. There’s a general description of them in the file, and I have photographs here. You can have copies made.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  “And I also want our contacts to be approached at the Jewish Documentation Centers in Vienna and Haifa.”

  “Right, sir. Is that all?”

  “That’s all. Put a Priority Red on it… oh, and send someone along with the daily situation reports. He can take the photographs to you on the way back.”

  The Director replaced the receiver and sat back, deep in thought. The Jewish Documentation Centers might prove to be a good source of information. It was probably they who had traced Mueller to Ecuador in the first place – and the information had been leaked to Kohner’s new masters… the Communists.

  The JD Centers spearheaded Israeli organizations for action against Nazi war crimes and had played a large part in bringing Eichmann to trial.

  The SS(0)S chief remembered the head of the Vienna center saying that he knew the exact address of Dr. Joseph Mengele, the notorious doctor of Auschwitz concentration camp.

  He had said that Mengele – the most wanted Nazi war criminal after Hitler’s deputy Martin Bormann – was at Tuerto San Vincente in Paraguay, where he owned two factories. Mengele had taken on Paraguayan citizenship and, despite repeated requests, the Paraguayan authorities had refused to extradite him.

  So if they knew about Mengele, why shouldn’t they know about Mueller?

  The puzzle was, what did the East Germans want with Mueller, a dedicated Nazi and a bitter opponent to the Communists during the war? Unless…

  The Director’s thoughts were interrupted as Miss Peach brought in the daily situation reports.

  “The messenger from the control room says he has to collect some photographs,” she said.

  *

  The Director was half way through the thick wad of reports from his agents in the field when a telephone buzzed insistently. He looked up and frowned at the light winking on the white phone, the “safe” line to Washington. All the phones on his desk had scrambler attachments.

  He picked up the handset and spoke slowly and clearly.

  “Double Ess-Oh-Ess. Director speaking.”

  “Good evening Director… or is it morning? I’m always getting it mixed up. This is Ed Fowler, FBI. I’m handling the Mueller cas
e from this end, so I figured it was time we had a chat.”

  “The what case?” asked the SS(0)S chief, sounding vague.

  Fowler laughed. “Come off it Director, you know what I’m talking about. I had a call earlier today from Mr. Dyer of the Yard.”

  “Did you indeed,” said the Director heavily.

  Damn and blast Dyer. He’d already been warned off the case once. Must remember to get the Home Secretary to tell Dyer’s commander to issue a direct order.

  “Yes.” The American was speaking again. “And it sure was good of you to put the finger on Kohner for us. I’ve been in touch with our G2 boys in Berlin, and they’ve come up with a lot of stuff about him.”

  “Really?” The Director sounded disinterested.

  “Look, sir,” there was exasperation in Fowler’s voice, “are we co-operating on this or not? Dyer told me you were moving in on the case. Now we know where Mueller is…”

  The Director stiffened.

  “You know where he is?” he interrupted. “Where?”

  “Are we co-operating?”

  “Yes, dammit!”

  “Well, Kohner’s in East Berlin: G2 told me he was seen there two days ago at SSD headquarters.”

  “Never mind Kohner, what about Mueller?”

  “I guess he’ll be joining Kohner in East Berlin in a few days’ time. It’s the logical place for them to take him as it seems to be strictly an East German operation. There’s no apparent Russian involvement so far.”

  “So you’re only guessing, Mr. Fowler. You don’t really know where Mueller is at this moment?”

  The American chuckled.

  “At this moment I’d say he was somewhere in your English Channel.”

  “How do you work that out?”

  “Well, the last time Mueller was seen, he was heading out to sea in an open boat off the coast of Ecuador. Twenty-four hours later the East German ship Meissen entered the Panama Canal. She’s the only East German ship that’s been in the area recently, and she cleared the canal twelve days ago, bound for Rostock. That puts her somewhere in the English Channel now – and I’m willing to bet you that Mueller’s aboard her.”

  “I’m not a betting man, Mr. Fowler, but I’d say you’re right. So assuming she goes through the Kiel Canal, she should reach Rostock in three or four days – we can check when she’s due – and Mueller should arrive in East Berlin a day later; or even the same day if they fly him there.”