“You were telling me about Argentina,” von Stauffenberg said.
Somewhat uncomfortably (imagining a listener hoping to hear disloyal or defeatist remarks), Peter delivered what was becoming a stock speech about the good food in Argentina, the incredible size of the farms, and the beauty of the women.
The door opened, and the Graf appeared.
“Heil Hitler!” von Stauffenberg said. “How good to see you again, Herr Generalleutnant.”
“Heil Hitler,” the Graf said. “It’s good to see you looking so well, Claus.”
Neither saluted. An eavesdropping microphone was possible, but it was unlikely that anyone was watching them.
“I’ve spoken both to the Munich Area Medical Commandant and to Generaloberst Jodl,” the Graf announced. “The bad news is that our leave is over. My presence is required at Wolfsschanze immediately.”
Peter looked at his father curiously, but said nothing.
“I will fly to Berlin at 1530,” the Graf went on. “And you, Peter, have been designated to represent the OKW at the interment of Oberst Grüner. Korvettenkapitän Boltitz is on his way to Augsburg to arrange things with Hauptmann Grüner. You are to meet him there today.”
“And the good news?” Peter asked.
“The medical commandant has given us his permission to take Claus to luncheon.”
Curiosity got the best of von Stauffenberg. “Oberst Grüner?” he asked. “Who’s he?”
“A very fine officer who made the supreme sacrifice for the Fatherland, Claus,” Peter said. “In circumstances I’m not at liberty to divulge.”
“The prospect of a good lunch is pleasing,” von Stauffenberg said. “I have always loved the venison sauerbraten at the Vier Jahreseitzen.”
In the car on the way back into Munich, Peter turned to von Stauffenberg in the backseat and asked: “Is there really a microphone in your room, Claus?”
“I don’t know. I do know I have to be careful. And so should you, Peter.”
“I have been trying to impress that on him, Claus,” the Graf said, and then asked: “Claus, have you ever heard of Operation Phoenix?”
“No,” von Stauffenberg said simply. “Should I have?”
“It’s apparently a closely guarded state secret,” the Graf said. “One I think you should know about.”
“With all possible respect, Uncle Friedrich, should Peter hear this?”
“I heard it from Hansel, Claus. It is a state secret to which I have not been made privy. Tell him about it, Hansel, while we show our Claus the tourist sights of Munich.”
As they made a sedate motor tour of Munich, Peter related all he knew about Operation Phoenix, including the deaths of Oberst Grüner and Standartenführer Goltz while they were attempting to smuggle the Operation Phoenix funds ashore, but he did not discuss his role in informing Cletus Frade of the landing.
“And that’s not all, that’s not even the worst, Claus,” the Graf said. “Tell Claus about the ransoming operation, Hansel.”
“I’m surprised, but not really surprised,” von Stauffenberg said when Peter had finished. “There are some really criminal types around our Führer, especially in the SS. Their uniforms have not changed their basic character.” Then he had another thought. “Do the Allies know about the ransoming operation?”
Peter looked at his father for permission to answer. After a moment, the Graf nodded. “The Americans do,” Peter said. “I told them.”
“Was that wise, Peter?” von St
auffenberg asked.
“They were about to find out themselves.”
“So you decided to tell them? Why?”
“Peter has…an arrangement…with an agent of the American OSS,” the Graf said. “It has proven useful. It may prove even more useful in the future.”