The driver clutched nervously at the scarf around his throat. He felt like it was choking him. He looked up at the building, the rain falling straight down. He imagined Himmler up there somewhere on the top floor. He looked up above the roof and half expected to see huge black vultures circling. But there was just the clouds and the rain.
“If you don’t mind,” the driver said “I’m going to sit in the car out of the rain. Can I leave it here?”
“No,” the SS man said opening the door and getting into the front passenger seat “I’ll show you where you can park.”
A door was opened and von Brockhorst was shown in to a reception room on the seventh floor.
“Someone will attend to you in a moment sir,” the usher spoke.
Von Brockhorst thanked him and taking off his gloves looked around the room. The carpet was deep pile and he realised he was dripping water on to it. He began to unbutton his coat. A side door opened and a steward entered.
“Good morning general. My name is Max, I am one of Herr Himmler’s personal assistants. May I take your coat for you?”
Von Brockhorst thanked the man and removed his hat also. The steward took the hat and gloves with the coat and returned almost instantly.
“May I get you tea or coffee?”
“Tea would be nice.”
“Of course sir. Please make yourself comfortable. The Herr Reichsfuhrer won’t keep you waiting any longer than necessary.”
Von Brockhorst was about to sit when he caught sight of himself in a large mirror. He moved over to it and examined his reflection. He smoothed down his short dark hair and brushed down an already immaculate uniform removing one hair from his sleeve and letting it fall to the floor. He checked that his iron cross 1st class was straight around his throat and made sure that his red shoulder tabs with the oak leaves and swords were even. He looked down at his feet and taking out a handkerchief he reached down and wiped some small splashes of dirt from his boots. He looked at his rows of medal ribbons on his left breast. He was one of the most decorated soldiers in German history.
There was a click as the door opened and Max returned carrying a tray containing a teapot, cup, sugar, milk, cream, spoon, saucer and a selection of biscuits and fairy cakes.
Von Brockhorst took a seat, admiring the quality of the leather armchair he had chosen. All of the sofas were of the same furnishing.
Max poured a cup of tea and Von Brockhorst rose once again, selected a biscuit and taking the teacup on its saucer he strode over to a window and looked out over the Spree river. The rain was hitting the panes hard and snaking down the glass. A row of barges moved lazily down the brown murky river.
Max left the room again. Von Brockhorst continued watching out of the window for another ten minutes when the door clicked open once more. Von Brockhorst slowly turned from the window, it was a different steward.
“Herr general?” the man enquired.
“Yes.”
“The Herr Reichsfuhrer will see you now.”
Von Brockhorst placed his cup and saucer on the table and the new steward opened the double wooden doors, ushered the General in, and closed them behind him. In this new room Von Brockhorst could hear a distant rat-tat-tat.
“Typists in the next room,” the steward said helpfully.
They crossed to another door. This one leather padded and the steward knocked against it.
“Come,” a voice called from beyond.
The steward opened the door and stepped inside the room and immediately to one side. Von Brockhorst stepped in smartly. The steward clicked his heels together, kept his head low and left closing the door quietly behind him.
Von Brockhorst looked around this room. Expensive furniture, carpeting, marble busts, expensive paintings, a large desk behind which sat a bald headed man writing. Von Brockhorst focused on him.
The man signed the paper he was writing on with a flourish, put his pen down, pushed his chair back, put both his palms flat on the desk and pushed himself upright. He suddenly sprang around the desk and approached Von Brockhorst with his right hand extended. Though he didn’t smile there was friendliness in his voice.
“It’s good to see you again General Von Brockhorst.”
“Herr Reichsfuhrer.”
“Please take a seat. How are you enjoying Berlin?”
Von Brockhorst sat down opposite Himmler.
“I must admit Herr Reichsfuhrer I’m looking forward to returning to action. I’m sure Berlin is very