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ssion, but when we were finished bringing the Kama Sutra to life, she confided in me a naughty story about Olga Reithoffer, Colonel Genetti, and Alois. Inge was Colonel Genetti’s devoted Schatzi as long as he was in town, but the minute he left, Alois moved into 71 Cobenzlgasse.”
“‘He’s her brother, what’s wrong with that?’ I challenged.
“Inge told me, ‘His name isn’t really Reithoffer. It’s von something. He’s a Nazi on the run.’ So naturally I asked her how she knows that—”
“Why is she telling you all this?” Winters asked.
“When I was in London, there were posters on just about every wall. Loose Lips Sink Ships. I took that to heart, slightly modified—And booze loosens lips. Inge likes champagne. French champagne. It’s fifty dollars a bottle. I took two bottles with us to our love nest.
“So Inge says she knows because she’s heard Willi call him Franz. So I ask, ‘Willi who?’ And she says she doesn’t know, just that Franz calls him ‘Herr General.’”
“Just maybe,” Cronley said thoughtfully, “General der Infanterie Wilhelm Burgdorf?”
“Inge says that sometimes Willi brings cars from the country to Vienna. Anyway, I thought I should bring this to your attention.”
“I would much rather have had a telephone call, saying that with the cooperation of the Austrian authorities, former SS-Brigadeführer Franz von Dietelburg has at long last been apprehended. Why the hell didn’t you go to Wangermann?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about face-to-face.”
“Start talking.”
“Did you know that fifty percent of the SS officer corps were Austrian?”
“I heard sixty, but so what?”
“You knew that Wangermann and Holzknecht almost got themselves hung by the SS?”
Cronley nodded. “There is a point, right?”
“Good Austrians—like Wangermann and Holzknecht—are embarrassed about Austria’s role with Nazism starting with the Anschluss. They would really like to put von Dietelburg on a Nuremberg-style trial to show the world that Austria—”
“I get the point. So what?”
“The Vienna prison is not the Tribunal prison. Von Dietelburg has answers to a lot of questions—about Odessa, Wewelsburg Castle, what happened to the contents of Himmler’s safe, und so weiter. Even if we grab von Dietelburg, there will still be faithful Odessa people out there. And if they could whack your cousin Luther in the Tribunal prison, they could damn sure whack von Dietelburg in Wangermann’s jail to close his mouth permanently.”
Cronley didn’t immediately reply.
“It’s your call, Jim. Do you want to have Wangermann put him on trial here? Or do you want to take the sonofabitch somewhere where we can get answers?”
“What are you proposing, Cezar?”
“That we snatch him as he arrives at the Viktoria Palast, take him to the airport, load him into a Storch, and fly him to the Compound. After Gehlen interrogates him, we announce his capture, lock him up in the Tribunal prison, and then try him.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, Cezar,” Tom Winters said, “but have you considered the collateral damage your kidnap scenario will probably cause?”
“Collateral damage to who?”
“To Jim, me, Charley, and you. If we got away with this, Wangermann would want our heads.”
“Your call, Jim,” Spurgeon said.
“There’s no time to get on the SIGABA and ask El Jefe what he thinks is there?” Cronley asked.
“‘General Greene, this is ASA Fulda. Captain Cronley just said something to Mr. Schultz that I thought I should bring to your attention immediately,’” Spurgeon said.
“Whereupon Greene would call Wasserman and tell him to sit on us to prevent an international incident,” Cronley said.
“Your call, Captain,” Zielinski said.
