And when he was speaking to me about something very serious, he always called me “Karlchen” in a calm, commanding voice to get my full attention.
Well, he sure as hell has it now.
I do not think that there is any significance to be found in his sending the love of my mother and sister, other than that simply being a method not to draw attention to the “Karlchen” code so that it can be used again. Especially because he did state that Mother and Anna were unharmed and in Berlin.
I had wondered what, if anything, had happened to the family businesses in the Ruhr dam bombings. There have been no details of that in any news reports, suggesting that something big did happen and that Berlin is keeping that quiet.
What has been surprising to me is that the messages I sent Felix asking what he knew about the bombings have gone unanswered. That could mean that he did not get them—which is very doubtful, as he’s never not gotten my messages and not answered them—or that he does not know—doubtful again, considering his position in the SD—or that he has been ordered not to tell me.
This last one I have come to believe, though if it is correct I do wonder why Felix then didn’t reply that he did not know and was looking into it.
His not answering any of the messages . . . does that mean something?
Perhaps not.
Regardless, what happened to the Ruhr operations would appear to be a trivial point now. Even if all seven were lost to the bombings, it does not matter—not if Hitler has stolen them from us.
Just as he stole Fritz Thyssen’s.
And why is the bastard throwing the Thyssens in a concentration camp?
Is Hitler that paranoid? That revengeful?
Or is the war, contrary to Otto’s happy talk, that lost?
Or all the above?
My father and mother did not do as the Thyssens—give Hitler and his Thousand-Year Reich the finger in front of all their fellow Germans and then leave the country. As far as I know, my father has done all that’s been required of him.
Yet it is absolutely crystal clear that Father fears that our entire family is in danger.
He said to take “extraordinary actions to save yourself from a possible similar fate but also ones to save your mother and sister.”
Then he suddenly thought: Jesus Christ!
He turned and looked out the side window so that the scharführer would not see his expression.
Am I being watched?
Is that why the hell Juli ordered me to take this kid on the trip?
The bastard’s keeping an eye on me!
He looked to the floorboard, to where he had put his black leather briefcase. Inside the case, among his official papers, was his Luger and four extra magazines of 9mm. He then glanced at Lieber. The peach-faced Otto stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to anything except the dotted lines on the macadam.
Using a clu
eless kid would be a clever way for me not to suspect he’s actually watching me and reporting on what I’m doing.
And did anyone pay any attention that after I called and left a message for Müller to expect my arrival, I called Beck and told him that I would be out of town overnight in Palermo?
Oh, hell . . . now I am becoming paranoid!
“Calm down, Karlchen,” as Father used to tell me. “You must always think thoroughly before acting.”
This kid’s not capable of babysitting an infant, let alone keeping up with me.
Still, as Felix said when we were in intelligence school: “Even the paranoid have enemies.”