The Assassination Option Part 25

What the h.e.l.l are you up to?

Hessinger made the translation.

"Tell him I'm glad he made it through the war," Cronley said, and then asked, "How are we fixed for time, Sergeant?"

Hessinger looked at his watch.

"Sir, we're going to have to get on the road," Hessinger replied, and then told Luther the lieutenant was glad that he had made it through the war.

"Tell him we have to leave," Cronley ordered.

When Hessinger had done so, and Luther had replied, he made that unnecessary translation: "He said he's sorry to hear that, but understands. He says he's very happy with your mother's gifts, and that he hopes this will not be the last time you come to Strasbourg."

"Tell him that if my mother sends some more things, I'll see that he gets them," Cronley said, and put out his hand to Luther.

"And where will you go from Salzburg?" Luther asked.

Hessinger looked to Cronley for permission to answer. Cronley nodded, hoping Luther didn't see him.

"Vienna," Hessinger said, and then, "He wanted to know where we're going from Salzburg. I told him. I hope that's all right."

"Sure. Why not?"

Frau Stauffer said "Danke schn" when she shook Cronley's hand, and looked as if she wanted to kiss him.

He smiled at her and walked to and out the door.

The Stauffers waved as they drove off.

[THREE].

When Sergeant Finney pulled the Ford up behind the ambulance, another of Tiny's Troopers-this one a corporal-got out of it and walked to the car.

Finney rolled the window down.

"We're through here. Go get Sergeant Graham," he ordered. "He's somewhere behind the house."

"You got it, Sarge," the corporal said, and took off at a trot.

"Tell me, Sergeant Finney," Cronley said, "now that you are a member of DCI-Europe, what is your professional a.s.sessment of Herr Stauffer?"

Finney thought it over for a moment, and then said, "That Kraut is one lying motherf.u.c.ker."

Cronley didn't reply for a moment, then, coldly furious, said softly, "Sergeant, if you ever say that-or something like that-in my hearing again, you'll spend the rest of your time in Germany as a private walking around Kloster Grnau with a Garand on your shoulder."

"Yes, sir," Finney said, and then, "Captain, I'm sorry. I guess I just forgot he's your cousin."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Cronley said. "My lying Kraut kinsman doubtless has many faults, but I don't think we have any reason to suspect that he ever had incestuous relations with his mother."

"Sorry, Captain."

"You might want to pa.s.s the word around that that phrase is strengstens verboten. It turns my stomach."

"Jawohl, Herr Kapitn."

"And your take on Luther Stauffer, Mr. Hessinger?"

"The question is not whether he was lying to us, but why," Hessinger said. "I think we should find out why."

"How are we going to do that?"

"I think the first thing to do is see if we can find the Strasbourg office of the DST."

"The what?"

"The Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire," Hessinger said. "It's sort of the French CIC, except that it's run by the French National Police, not the army. They may have something on Cousin Luther."

"Okay."

"And before we do that, I suggest we change out of our Quartermaster Corps uniforms," Hessinger said. "I think we'll get more cooperation from our French Allies as CIC agents than we would as dishwasher machine repairmen."

"Why don't we go whole hog and dazzle them with our DCI credentials?"

"Because (a) I would be surprised if word of the DCI's establishment has worked its way through the French bureaucracy, and (b) even if it has, we want to make discreet inquiries."

[FOUR].

Office of the Chief Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire Departement Bas-Rhin Strasbourg, France 1335 10 January 1946 When his sergeant showed Cronley, Hessinger, and Finney into his office, Commandant Jean-Paul Fortin of the Strasbourg office of the DST rose behind his desk.

He was a natty man in his early thirties with a trim mustache. He was wearing U.S. Army ODs with French insignia. There were shoulder boards with four gold stripes attached to the epaulets, and a bra.s.s representation of a flaming bomb pinned to his left breast pocket. On his desk, in what Cronley thought of as an in-basket, was his uniform cap.

Cronley thought the hat was called a "kepi." It had a flat circular top and what looked like a patent leather visor. The top was red. There were four gold stripes on a dark blue crown, and in the center of the top was another flaming bomb.

Cronley remembered what Luther had said about his being conscripted into the German grenadiers. A flaming bomb was a grenade.

"Thank you for seeing us, Commandant," Cronley said.

He offered his CIC credentials. Commandant Fortin examined them and then looked questioningly at Hessinger and Finney. They produced their credentials and Fortin examined them carefully.

"Bon," he said. "I regret that I have not much the English."

Oh, s.h.i.+t!

"It is to be hoped that you have the French?"

"Unfortunately, no," Hessinger said.

"Is possible German?"

"We all speak German, Major," Cronley said.

"Wunderbar!" Fortin said. "But of course, being in the CIC, you would. Now, how may the DST be of service to the CIC?"

"We're interested in a man named Luther Stauffer," Cronley said. "We've heard he was originally from Strasbourg, and we're wondering if the DST has anything on him."

"Herr Cronley, if you don't mind me saying so, you sound like a Strasbourger yourself."

"My mother, Commandant Fortin, was a Strasbourgerin. I learned my German from her."

"So was mine, a Strasbourgerin, I mean."

"Mine married an American right after the First World War," Cronley said. "And if you don't mind my asking, I've always been led to believe the DST was a police organization."

"It is. I've been seconded to it," Fortin said, and then bellowed, "Sergeant!"

When the sergeant appeared, Fortin said, "Check in the files for a man named . . ." He looked at Cronley.

"Stauffer," Hessinger furnished. "Luther Stauffer."

"Oui, mon Commandant."

"What is this Stauffer fellow wanted for?" Fortin asked.

"We didn't mean to give that impression," Hessinger said. "His name came up in an investigation of black market activities, that's all. We'd just like to know who he is."

"I thought your Criminal Investigation, DCI, did those sort of investigations."

"Most of the time, they do," Hessinger said.

Commandant Fortin is good. Is this going to blow up in our faces?

"To return to your earlier question," Fortin said, "there were . . . how do I say this delicately? . . . certain awkward problems here in Strasbourg. When the Germans came in 1940, there were some policemen, including senior officers, who were not too terribly unhappy."

"'Better Hitler than Blum'?" Hessinger said.

"Exactly," Fortin said. "I'm glad you understand."

"I don't," Cronley blurted, and immediately regretted it.

Fortin looked at Hessinger and signaled that Hessinger should make the explanation.

"He was premier of France for a while," Hessinger began. "A Jew, an anti-fascist, and a socialist, who thought the state should control the banks and industry. This enraged the bankers and businessmen in general, and they began to say, 'Better Hitler than Blum.' He was forced out of office before the war. After 1940, he was imprisoned by the Vichy government, and then by the Germans. We liberated him from a concentration camp, and he returned to France."

"I'm glad you understand," Fortin said. "The only thing I would add to that is that when he returned to France, Blum immediately re-divided the Fourth Republic into those who love him, and those who think he should have been shot in 1939."

"May I ask where you stand on Monsieur Blum?" Hessinger asked.

"A career officer such as myself would never dream of saying that a senior French official should be shot. Or fed to the savage beasts."

"I appreciate your candor, Commandant," Cronley said. "And I apologize for my ignorance."

Fortin waved his hand, to signal No apology was necessary.

"As I was saying, when the Germans came, many senior police officers were willing to collaborate with them. Many, perhaps most, of the junior policemen were not. The Germans hauled them off to Germany as slave laborers. Many of them died in Germany.

"When we-I had the honor of serving with General Philippe Leclerc's Free French Second Armored Division-tore down the swastika and raised the Tricolor over the Strasbourg Cathedral again, some of the senior police officers who had collaborated with the Boche were shot trying to escape, and the rest were imprisoned for later trial.

"That left Strasbourg without a police force worthy of the name. General Leclerc established an ad hoc force from the Second Armored and named me as its chief. He knew I was a Strasbourger. I have been here since, trying to establish a police force. That has proved difficult, as there are very few men in Strasbourg from whom to recruit. And policemen from elsewhere in France are reluctant to transfer here-"

He was interrupted when his sergeant came back into the office.

"I found two in the files, mon Commandant," he announced. "A Stauffer, Karl, and a Stauffer, Luther."

He laid the files on Fortin's desk, as Cronley wondered, Do I have another cousin?

Fortin examined the folders.

"I believe you said 'Stauffer, Luther'?"

"That's the name we have, Commandant," Hessinger said.

"I thought it rang a bell," Fortin said. "Very interesting man. You're not the only one, Herr Cronley, who'd like to talk to him."

"You want him?" Cronley asked.

"That's why he's interesting," Fortin said. "We've been looking for him, but so, I've come to believe, was the Schutzstaffel."

He offered the file to Cronley, who overcame his curiosity and handed it to Hessinger with the explanation, "Mr. Hessinger is my expert in reading dossiers."

"I mentioned before," Fortin went on, "that when the Germans came in 1940, some of our fellow Strasbourgers, Herr Cronley, were not unhappy to see them. Some of them, in fact, were so convinced that Hitler was the savior of Europe, and National Socialism the wave of the future, that they joined the Legion des Volontaires Franais.

"Luther Stauffer was one of them. He joined the LVF as a feldwebel-sergeant-and went off to Germany for training."