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“Yes, sir.”
“Not even to Cronley.”
“Yes, sir. And to change the subject, what happens next?”
“We give Stauffer and the Kuhns a couple of days to think things over. Then we offer them a deal, give us von Dietelburg or spend the rest of your life in jail. If that doesn’t work, we’ll just have to keep trying.”
Casey nodded his understanding.
“You better go in there and watch the doctor stick his finger up Cousin Luther’s anal orifice.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dunwiddie punched Casey affectionately on the arm.
—
Twenty minutes later, Sturmführer Stauffer was led, naked and shackled, into a cell in the upper tier of the prison.
The shackles were removed, and the guards handed him prison-issue shirt and trousers and a small carton containing soap, a toothbrush, Colgate toothpaste, two towe
ls, and a roll of toilet paper.
He asked for a razor and Casey Wagner told him, in German, that he would be permitted, under supervision, the use of a safety razor every other day.
Then Wagner and the guards left him alone in the cell.
XII
[ONE]
The Dining Room
Farber Palast
Stein, near Nuremberg
American Zone of Occupation, Germany
0815 26 February 1946
Lieutenant Tom Winters and his wife and their baby walked into the dining room, followed by a bodyguard holding a Thompson submachine gun at his side.
Winters looked around until he found what he was looking for, then nudged his wife, indicating the table at which Cronley, Ostrowski, and Dunwiddie were sitting with Janice Johansen. They walked to it.
The men at the table rose.
“Mrs. Winters,” Cronley said. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Tom drove us down yesterday,” Barbara Winters said.
“If Captain Dunwiddie knew about that, he apparently didn’t think I would be interested.”
“May we join you?” Barbara asked.
“Certainly. Have you had breakfast?”
“I want to thank you for saving Tom’s life, Jim.”
