Shadows of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

good.’
    Schellenberg, the head of the counter-intelligence section of the Gestapo, knew his chief. Heydrich’s tone suggested that something was not in fact good. Schellenberg waited.
    ‘I was speaking to the Führer about this,’ Heydrich went on.
    Here we go, thought Schellenberg.
    ‘He is concerned about you flying to London.’
    ‘But if we are to get the British to tell us what they know about a plot to overthrow him, then we have to get them to believe we are real! They have insisted that the general comes to London, and if he goes, I have to go with him.’
    ‘I know that, Walter. But the Führer doesn’t like talking about plots to overthrow him, even fictional ones. He is going to Munich tomorrow, and he is back on the ninth. He will confirm you can go ahead then.’
    ‘Yes, Herr Gruppenführer!’ said Schellenberg and hung up.
    The whole plan had been Heydrich’s idea, and now he was talking about pulling the plug on it at the very last minute, just as Schellenberg was getting somewhere.
    But Schellenberg couldn’t worry about that; he had to assume that the rendezvous was going ahead. He needed to brief his ‘general’ and work on his strategy to negotiate with the British.
    And in a couple of days, with any luck, he would discover who among the German generals really were plotting to overthrow the Führer.
    The Hague
    Conrad waited in his pokey room for ten minutes and then headed back outside. The Hollands Spoor station was just around the corner and there were frequent trains to Leiden. It only took twenty minutes.
    Conrad had picked Leiden because of its proximity to The Hague and the famous university there. It was the sort of place where a doctoral student might meet an academic. Even when the doctoral student was actually a serving officer in the British Army? An intelligent German censor with time to check up on Conrad’s bona fides would never believe it. Conrad just had to hope that his telegram had been passed directly to the Abwehr and Theo.
    It was a reasonable assumption.
    Leiden reminded Conrad a little of Oxford. Lots of students acting as if they owned the place, lots of bicycles, lots of ancient buildings. But it was quieter, and prettier, and a network of canals threaded through the town. There was no war anywhere to be seen.
    Despite the November breeze, it was a pleasant walk from the station to the city centre. The Hotel Levedag was on the Breestraat just past the town hall. Conrad decided to be himself as he approached the man behind the desk, whom he guessed was the hotel manager.
    ‘Good afternoon,’ he said in English. ‘Are there any messages for me? My name is Conrad de Lancey, and I was intending to stay at this hotel tonight, but I had to change my plans and stay in The Hague.’
    ‘Certainly, sir. Let me check,’ the manager replied in good English. He studied a bank of pigeonholes and then rummaged around in a drawer beneath his desk. He pouted and grimaced. ‘Nothing, sir, I am sorry.’
    ‘Ah.’ Conrad was disappointed, but he wasn’t giving up. ‘What about for Professor Madvig?’
    ‘Is he a guest at the hotel?’
    ‘I’m not sure,’ said Conrad. ‘I was supposed to meet him here.’
    ‘Are you expecting a message from the professor?’
    ‘Either from or to,’ said Conrad.
    The manager looked at Conrad doubtfully, but then turned to have another look at the pigeonholes and a large ledger. ‘We have no record of Professor Madvig staying here or making a booking. Nor a message for him.’
    Conrad smiled. ‘I understand. I’m afraid there has been a frightful mix-up. I’ll come back tomorrow. And if someone does leave a message, can you keep it for me?’
    The hotel manager’s doubts were rising. Conrad had a feeling he wasn’t doing the secret-agent thing very well. Theo was the professional. It was too much for Conrad to expect his friend to get the message via Copenhagen to Berlin, and get to Leiden in a day.
    ‘Thank you,’ said Conrad