an hour ahead of London, sir," offered Latham, sitting down.
"It's a common mistake, although you're right, it was sloppy."
"Perhaps it wasn't," said De Vries, and all eyes turned to her.
"Is- it possible we have a friend in the English neo ranks? What better way to draw attention to such a killer than by withholding clearance when it's necessary and sending it suspiciously, late
"That's over complicated Karin," the colonel disagreed, "and leaves too much room for error. The link in the chain's too weak;
a mole would be traced immediately."
"Complications are our business, Stosh, and errors are what we look for."
"Is that a lesson from on high?"
"Come on," persisted Drew, "she could be right."
"Indeed, she could be; unfortunately we can't know at this juncture."
"Why not? We can put out a trace too. Who at the Quai d'Orsay gave Woodward clearance at the hospital even if it was late?"
"That's why we can't know. It came from the office of an Anatole Blanchot, a member of the Chamber of Deputies. Moreau followed it up."
"And?"
"There's nothing. This Blanchot never heard of a Dr. Woodward and there's no record of a telephone call made from his office to the Hertford Hospital. As a matter of fact, the only time Blanchot ever called London was over a year ago on his home phone to place a bet at Ladbrokes for the Irish Sweepstakes."
"The ncos just picked a name, then."
"That's what it looks like."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Amen, cblopak."
Chapter Thirty-Five
"I thought you said some progress was made."
"It was, but not with Woodward."
"Then where?" Courtland broke in.
"I'm referring to Officer Latham's package delivered to the Deuxieme in the early hours of the morning, sir."
"The Lutheran minister?" asked Karin.
"Without knowing it, Koenig's a songbird," said Witkowski. "What's the time?" Drew leaned forward in his chair.
"It's an aria called "Der Meistersinger Traupman." We've heard it before."
"The surgeon from Nuremberg?" pressed Latham.
"The big wheel Nazi that Sorenson unearthed from-" He stopped, looking helplessly at the ambassador.
"Yes, Drew,". said Courtland quietly, "from my wife's legal guardian in Centralia, Illinois.. .. I spoke with Mr. Schneider myself.
He's an old man now with many painful memories and regrets, and whatever he says, I believe he speaks the truth."
"He's certainly telling the truth about Traupman," said the colonel.
"Moreau met with Traupman's former wife in Munich only a few days ago. She confirmed it in double swastikas."
"I'm aware of that also." The ambassador spoke again softly, nodding his head.
"Traupman was instrumental in implementing Operation Sonnenkinder all over the free world."
"What did Claude learn about Tratipman from the Lutheran priest?" asked Karin.
"Basically that Koenig and others like him in the upper levels are frightened of him, and curry favors whenever and wherever they can. Moreau understood that Traupman was a major player, but now he thinks he's something else. He thinks Tratipman has some kind of hold over the neo movement, a grip that keeps everyone where he wants them."
"The Nazi Rasputin?" continued De Vries.
"The untouchable figure behind the imperial throne, controlling that throne) "
"We know there's a new bibrer," said Witkowski, "we just have no idea who he is."
"But if this new Hitler is the throne-"
"that is where I must stop you, Karin," Daniel Courtland interrupted, suddenly rising, slowly, painfully, from his chair behind the antique table.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ambassador-"
"No, no, my dear, the apologies are mine, so ordered by my government."
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Cool it, Drew, just cool it," ordered Courtland.
"It may interest you to know that I've been on the phone with Wesley Sorenson, who has temporarily assumed the authority of certain covert activities. I'm to neither hear nor be a party to any further conversation on this subject. However, when I have left the room, you, Officer Latham, are to call him on this scrambled telephone and hear what he has to say.. .. Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall retire to the library, where there is a well-stocked bar. Later, if you care to indulge in some innocuous chitchat, please join me." The ambassador limped across the room and out an inner door, closing it firmly behind him.
Drew leapt out of the chair and raced to the phone. Barely sitting down, he began pressing the numbered buttons.
"Wcs, it's me. Why the voodoo?"
"Has Ambassador Daniel Rutherford Courtland in Paris left the room?"
"Yeah, sure, what is it?"
"In the event this conversation is compromised, I, Wesley Theodore Sorenson, director of Consular Operations, take full responsibility for this action under Article Seventy-three of the Clandestine Activities Statutes as they apply to unilateral, individual decisions