The Odessa File

‘I want to try and find out where he is now,’ he said at length.

‘He’s not in Hamburg now,’ said Memmers hastily. ‘He left on Friday about lunchtime, just as I was arriving. He spent Christmas there. Before that he was away somewhere else.’

‘I know,’ said the Werwolf.

‘I could find out what story he is inquiring about,’ said Memmers helpfully. ‘I did not inquire too closely, because you said you did not want him to discover he was being asked about.’

‘I know what story he is working on. Exposing one of our comrades.’

The Werwolf thought for a minute.

‘Could you find out where he is now?’ he asked.

‘I think so,’ said Memmers. ‘I could ring the girl back this afternoon, pretend I was from a big magazine and needed to contact Miller urgently. She sounded a simple girl on the phone.’

‘Yes, do that,’ said the Werwolf. ‘I’ll ring you at four this afternoon.’

Cadbury was down in Bonn that Monday morning where a ministerial press conference was scheduled. He rang Miller at the Dreesen Hotel at ten-thirty.

‘Glad to get you before you left,’ he told the German. ‘I’ve got an idea. It might help you. Meet me at

the Cercle Français this afternoon around four.’

Just before lunch Miller rang Sigi and told her he was at the Dreesen.

When they met Cadbury ordered tea.

‘I had an idea while not listening to that wretched conference this morning,’ he told Miller. ‘If Roschmann was captured and identified as a wanted criminal, his case would have come under the eyes of the British authorities in our zone of Germany at the time. All files were copied and passed between the British, French and Americans both in Germany and Austria at that time. Have you ever heard of a man called Lord Russell of Liverpool?’

‘No, never,’ said Miller.

‘He was the legal adviser to the British Military Governor in all our war-crimes trials during the occupation. Later he wrote a book called The Scourge of the Swastika. You can imagine what it was about. Didn’t make him terribly popular in Germany, but it was quite accurate. About atrocities.’

‘He’s a lawyer?’ asked Miller.

‘He was,’ said Cadbury. ‘A very brilliant one. That was why he was chosen. He’s retired now, lives in Wimbledon. I don’t know if he’d remember me, but I could give you a letter of introduction.’

‘Would he remember so far back?’

‘He might. He’s not a young man any more, but he was reputed to have a memory like a filing cabinet. If the case of Roschmann was ever referred to him to prepare a prosecution, he’d remember every detail of it. I’m sure of that.’

Miller nodded and sipped his tea.

‘Yes, I could fly to London to talk to him.’

Cadbury reached into his pocket and produced an envelope.

‘I wrote the letter already.’ He handed Miller the letter of introduction and stood up.

‘Good luck.’

*

Memmers had the information for the Werwolf when the latter rang just after four.

‘His girl-friend got a call from him,’ said Memmers. ‘He’s in Bad Godesberg, staying at the Dreesen Hotel.’

The Werwolf put the phone down and thumbed through an address book. Eventually he fixed on a name, picked up the phone again and rang a number in the Bonn/Bad Godesberg area.