The Shadowboxer (35 page)

“So there you have it: the solution to our mutual predicament,” Klempf said.

He turned to Spangler. “They sent you into Birkenau to bring out Tolan for this government in exile of theirs—and I have made sure that you will succeed. Had you come to the gas chamber as instructed, you'd have been taken aside like Tolan and brought right to this car. Since you insisted on running your own course tonight and disappearing, you gave me some trouble. But I did the logical thing: I set the clues—and let you find
me
. You came very close to destroying our chances of survival with your little game.

“Nonetheless, you
are
here. We are all here. I will provide the transportation out of the Reich. For this favor you will guarantee me asylum, as well as immunity from all postwar indictments for war crimes. You see how simple it is?”

“Simple, except for one minor fact,” Spangler replied. “I'm not the man you think I am. I didn't come to Birkenau to free anyone. I was arrested and sent there.”

“Be whoever you want to be,” Klempf countered calmly, “I will get us out of Europe. If luck is with me, you will take it from there. What other choice do I have? Now will you please unlock my handcuffs?”

The train skirted Budapest as Klempf began destroying the phonograph records. Half an hour later it pulled to a stop at a deserted rural depot.

Klempf led Spangler and the handcuffed Tolan to a parked car as the train pulled out. They drove southwest until dusk. Hot meals were waiting at a farmhouse. A second automobile was ready in the barn. In the luggage compartment were business suits and credentials.

60

Spangler felt the gout beginning to throb in his right foot; the headache was becoming unbearable. He clenched his teeth and watched the road through the darkness. They had started the ascent into the Alps. Klempf was driving. Tolan sat manacled in the rear seat.

Another farm provided prearranged food and lodging. All three men slept in the same room. They were up before dawn.

Klempf moved in behind the steering wheel. Tolan was about to duck into the rear door. Suddenly he froze.

“Look!” he shouted to Spangler, gesturing with his bound wrists, “Look on the roof!”

Spangler moved forward and inspected the top of the car. A thick cross of grease was evident.

“They've been following us by airplane,” Tolan shouted. “It's been a trap all along!”

Klempf hurried out and stared numbly at the roof. “I don't know where it came from,” he stammered.

“It wasn't there when we got out last night,” Tolan insisted. “I looked. It wasn't there.”

“Maybe someone in the house marked it,” Klempf said nervously.

“Who brought us here?” Tolan demanded. “And who was the only man alone at the car last night? We were inside. You came out for cigarettes, remember? You came out alone.”

“I didn't put it there.”

“He lies!” Tolan said, spinning toward Spangler. “He almost had me convinced on the train, but now I see what it is.”

“Don't listen to him,” Klempf implored.

“How stupid I was!” Tolan laughed. “Von Schleiben could never kill Klempf—he'd be lost without him. Klempf has always done the thinking. Klempf's ideas have made von Schleiben successful. Kill him!” he told Spangler.

“You must listen to me,” Klempf said, coming around to Spangler. “I know nothing of this. You must take my word.”

“Your word?” Tolan scoffed. “The word of a lying butcher?”

“Is it any worse than that of the court pornographer?” Klempf shot back. “The practiced degenerate who trains young girls with animals? Who sent his own daughter into a whorehouse and then shared her with Heydrich and von Schleiben? And when that wasn't enough he used her as a star in his famous movies!”

“It wasn't I who thought of sending Jean-Claude to the Bubel,” Tolan replied calmly.

Klempf blanched. “You cannot listen to him,” he said, grabbing Spangler's arm. “Do you know who this man is? He's worse than we are. He's worse than any camp guard. He volunteered to spy on his fellow prisoners. He
enjoys
it! He has killed and tortured more inmates than the worst of the green-triangles. He volunteered to make the movies and train the girls. Von Schleiben wanted to put him in a prison where he'd be safer from his old political enemies—but Tolan refused. He loves the brutality of the camps.”

“Who put the cross on the car?” Spangler asked, staring at Klempf.

“I didn't, I swear I didn't!”

“Then how did it get there?”

“I—I—”

Spangler motioned with his Luger. “Get going.”

“No,” Klempf cried, “you must believe me—”

“Start walking.”

Tolan watched Spangler prod Klempf out into the orchard. The pair vanished below a rise. Several minutes later Spangler returned alone, holding a key. He unlocked Tolan's handcuffs, turned and slipped into the car and started the engine.

“You're not going to leave me here?” Tolan shouted into the window.

“You'll find your way out all right.”

“You can't leave me!”

“Why not?”

“Because you need me.”

“You're mistaken.”

“But you came into the camp to get me.”

“No I didn't.”

Tolan paled.

Spangler shifted gears and started forward.

“Wait!” Tolan shouted, running after the slowly moving car.

Spangler stepped on the brake and waited.

“All right, I'll tell you,” Tolan called, catching up. “It was a trap.”

“What was a trap?”

“The escape. The entire escape. I didn't have to be bound or gagged. Klempf and I planned it that way.”

“Why?”

“To find out who you were. We thought you'd gain confidence in one or the other of us—that you'd say who you were or where you wanted to go. That was what von Schleiben wanted. He wanted positive identification.”

“Then why did you betray Klempf?”

“That was also planned. If you hadn't revealed who you were by the time we arrived here, one of the farmers was to mark the car without Klempf's knowledge, then I was to accuse him of lying to us.”

“So I would break his neck?”

“Yes. This place is partially surrounded. They'll wait until we leave, then one of the farmers will check the body. He'll notify the SS up ahead. Then they'll take you. But we can get out of here, avoid them. Turn around and go back the way we came. No one's back there. I'll show you how to get out.”

“What makes you change your mind now? Why have you decided to go against von Schleiben?”

“I didn't know what was involved. I hadn't heard those records—no one ever told me about them. I didn't know about the German Provisional Government.”

“What difference does that make?”

“I must be part of it.”

“Why?”

“Look, my friend, everything Klempf accused me of is true. There is even more that makes less pleasant listening. I admit everything. I deny nothing. I apologize to no one. I am who I am. Von Schleiben kept me alive for his own reasons. For that I am thankful—but there my obligation ends.

“We—the storm troopers—
created
the Reich! Without us it never would have been. And what was our reward? We were murdered, tortured and humiliated, dispersed.

“Himmler and Goering robbed me of my rightful position in Germany. Hitler allowed it to happen. Now I can reclaim that which was mine. I can take that place that was denied me.”

“It sounds as if you want to take over the exile government rather than be part of it.”

“Who is better qualified? I heard those names: Vetter, Nebel, Zahn. Do you know what they are? Runts. They are nothing to Germany and they mean nothing to Germany. It is I who have a following, the only following that exists in Germany today. There are two and a half million former storm troopers who have not forgotten what was done to them. They will rally to me when the time is right. Yes, that is why I will head the government in exile. That is why they need me so desperately. That is why they sent you for me.”

Spangler began to laugh. “Get in,” he finally said.

“Then you will take me to them?”

“Why the hell not? You suit one another.”

61

Von Schleiben and his provost moved as quietly as they could down the slope of the mist-choked woods. Tolan was waiting with an armload of logs.

“Where in the name of God have you been?” he whispered to the general.

“Trying to locate you. You didn't follow the agreed route.”

“I couldn't. He insisted on driving. We've been riding around in circles. Go down there and take him.”

“Has he said who he is?”

“Of course. He's told me everything. Go take him.”

“Everything?” von Schleiben questioned. “Why would he tell you everything?”

“Because he trusts me. Because he wants to get it off his chest. He wanted someone to know all the details. Why talk about it now? Don't waste time.”

“What do you mean by everything?”

“He admits to being Spangler,” Tolan said impatiently. “He told me how it all began—when he and someone named Tramont went to free three priests Gestapo had arrested in France. He claims the reason for all the aliases was because they had originally expected more people to join them—no one did—”

“And the murders?” von Schleiben asked quietly. “What did he have to say about the murders?”

“He won't mention them, but what difference does it make? He killed Klempf, so you have what you need.”

“He didn't kill Klempf. He only knocked him unconscious.”

“Look, I am telling you that we have Erik Spangler down in that cabin.”

“And I am telling you we can't be certain until he confesses to the murders—until he describes each one.”

“He can do his describing after he's captured. Take him now.”

“We can't. The troops aren't here yet.”

“How long will they be?”

“Another two to three hours.”

“We'll be gone by then. He drives like a madman. If he gets away now and heads further into the mountains you may lose him for good.”

Von Schleiben's cheeks puffed out as he thought. “I suppose it is all up to you,” he said, pulling his pistol from the holster and handing it to Tolan.

“I'm not going back down there. He's insane. He trembles and shakes. He laughs and cries for no reason at all. I've done what I've said I will do and that's it.”

“But what other choice do we have under the circumstances? I can't walk through the snow without his hearing me. If you can delay him until the troops arrive we have no worries. If you can somehow capture him, fire twice. If you find you must kill him, fire three times after the first shot.”

“That wasn't our agreement.”

“Here,” von Schleiben said, holding out a packet of cigarettes, “these will calm your nerves.”

Tolan stooped down and gathered up his logs.

“By the way,” asked von Schleiben, “did he mention me?”

“Several times.”

“And what did he have to say?”

“It was always the same. He thinks you're stupid and predictable,” Tolan said descending down the misty path.

Von Schleiben flushed and started back through the hillside woods with his provost.

“Are the troops deployed?” he barked at the SS major hurrying to meet them.

“We're having difficulties, Obergruppenfuehrer. This is very difficult terrain. And with the fog and ice it's almost impossible to—”

“Nothing is impossible, Standartenfuehrer.”

“But, Obergruppenfuehrer, there's sheer rock face around us and to—”

“Deploy your men and have them move on the cabin now.”

The major saluted and hurried off through the woods.

“But aren't we going to see if Tolan can capture him first?” the provost asked as they continued climbing.

“Tolan will be dead in a matter of minutes.”

The provost stared at him.

“The trouble with you and the others, my dear Kurt,” said von Schleiben, “is that you have never comprehended men like Spangler. These people expect a never-ending game to be played. They anticipate a series of final gambits. When you have finally convinced them that no more maneuvers can be made, they relax. That time has now come.”

“I don't understand.”

“Spangler has known from the beginning that we were trying to take him. He watched and waited to see how we would go about it. He expected Klempf to lead him into a trap, and now he expects the same of Tolan. That is why he has been circling about. He knew we were out here somewhere, and he wanted to lead us a chase. He also wanted to give Tolan time to betray himself—and now Tolan will do so.”

“How?”

“The gun and the cigarettes I gave him. Don't you think Spangler will notice one or the other? He probably already has. Tolan is most likely dead—with a broken neck. So move the troops in on the cabin and then we'll—”

A gunshot was heard. Three others followed.

Von Schleiben stopped in disbelief. “The idiot!” he shouted. Then he spun around and ran down the hillside into the bank of slowly drifting fog.

The provost moved down the hill after him and stopped at the edge of the clearing. He waited several minutes before shouting to von Schleiben. Only the echo replied. He shouted again. Still von Schleiben did not answer. He started to go forward, then thought better of it. He glanced around. Alpine troops were moving gingerly through the mist. He called for them to hurry.

The cabin was finally surrounded. The provost gathered courage, dashed to the door and burst through.

Spangler and Tolan were gone. Von Schleiben's body lay spread on the table, his arms folded on his chest. His decapitated head rested on the mantelpiece.