The Julian secret

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Berlin (Wilhelmstrasse)

The Reich Chancellery

March 1944

Adolph Hitler usually worked standing up behind the massive marble desk. Today he was not only on his feet but pacing, waiting for the news that would arrive any moment. Plans for the defense of the French coast, crucial orders for the movement of troops, could wait just as he, the most powerful man in Europe, possibly the world, had waited.

Although he was expecting it, the knock at the door of his office made him jump.

An immaculately clad SS Feldwerbel, sergeant, stood in the doorway, arm outstretched in salute. Well over six feet, his blond hair and blue eyes could have been taken from a recruitment poster had the SS needed to seek members. "Mein Fuhrer!" he almost shouted, eyes locked onto a spot several feet above Hitler's head, "Reichsfuhrer Himmler!"

Small by comparison, Heinrich Himmler entered, giving the same salute as the sergeant withdrew, quietly shutting the door. The light from the windows reflected from Himmler's glasses, making it impossible for Hitler to see the man's eyes. He was dressed in the black dress uniform of the SS: pressed jodhpurs stuffed into jackboots that gleamed with polish, a blouse resplendent with party, rather than military, decorations. The most feared man in Germany, Himmler commanded both Gestapo and SS as well as the latter's own intelligence agency, the Sicherheitsdienst, or SD. It was in connection with this latter function that Himmler had come today.

"Well?" Hitler asked, too eager to observe the pleasantries with which he normally greeted old comrades from the early Nazi party. "What have you found?"

Unfazed by the unusual brusqueness, Himmler smiled. "Good news, Mein Fuhrer! The priest Kaas has confirmed the rumors."

Hitler looked puzzled. "Kaas?"

"The Vatican priest, the one whose family lives in Munich. He has confirmed the discovery made while excavating for the last Pope's tomb."

Hitler's eyes took on that faraway look Himmler knew so well. "Excellent! All we have to do is verify it for ourselves. That whining Pope in the Vatican will be silenced!"

Himmler was unsure exactly what difference papal pronouncements could possibly make. After all, the total army at the Vatican's command, Swiss Guards, numbered only a hundred or so, but he knew better than to question Germany's leader. Hitler was, after all, following the advice of his astrologer, the infallible prophet who had advised action in the Rheinland, Austria, and Czechoslovakia when the generals had wavered.

Hitler had a fascination for religion and the occult. Himmler winced when he thought how much had been spent to obtain the spear of Longinus, supposedly the spear that had pierced Christ's side but actually a very ordinary piece of ancient military hardware that looked suspiciously contemporary. Hitler had thought nothing of the expense and risk of sending a team to British controlled Palestine in a fruitless search for the Ark of the Covenant. He had had four truckloads of what looked like pure junk removed from a cave in southwestern France, a cave Himmler understood had served as the last refuge of some medieval group of heretics. Only the threat of a cross-Channel invasion had delayed a further expedition to southwestern France, where Hitler was convinced the Holy Grail was hidden.

But then, who was Himmler to question the mind that had defied first the political geniuses of Germany by becoming Chancellor perfectly legally, and then the best military minds by the bloodless annexation of what was rightfully Germany's? If Der Fuhrer said the Pope needed to be cowed into silence, so be it.

"Imagine, Himmler," Hitler continued, "no longer having to be concerned about that damned Dago meddling with world opinion." He glanced around the room as though he anticipated seeing someone or something not there before. "In fact, Himmler, I have additional plans for the Pope." Himmler recognized the onslaught of one of Hitler's famous monologues that frequently went on for hours. Feeling only slightly disloyal, Himmler tuned him out and began to make mental plans to accomplish his Fuhrer's wishes. "… And you have just such a man," Hitler finished. Uncertain if he had been standing there an hour or only a few minutes, Himmler came back to the real world. "Who would that be, Mein Fuhrer?"

He was not surprised at the answer.

It was then Himmler had one of his few original ideas, an inspiration so brilliant he could not keep it to himself. "Mein Fuhrer, why bother? Would it not make more sense to simply take this potentially bothersome Pope prisoner, do so secretly? That would shut him up. We could also ransom him off for the considerable treasure of the Catholic Church."

Himmler could see from the flare in Hitler's blue eyes that his plan was recognized as potentially brilliant.

"Say nothing of this," Hitler said slowly. "Let us keep it to ourselves while I consider it. First, though, let us see about obtaining this new discovery from under the Vatican."

The door had hardly closed behind Himmler when Hitler picked up the phone on his desk. "Get me General Wolff, SS commander in Rome."