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were discussions between you and Oster,” Stawitzky insisted. “Ongoing discussions, if my memory of the notes serves me well.”

“There were many discussions between us. Oster was head of my Abteilung Z—Central Section—after all.”

“I understand that, my dear Canaris. The discussions I refer to specifically are ones concerning the outcome of the war. You both held dismal outlooks.”

Canaris stopped and looked directly into Stawitzky’s eyes. He knew damned well what the little bastard was trying to do this time. If the man could find the tiniest of cracks in the wall of self-defense Canaris had built around himself, he would work on it until the tiny fracture became a gaping fissure through which the hearse could be driven.

“We definitely had talks along that line,” Canaris said.

Stawitzky’s piggish eyes lit up.

“We gave consideration to the difficulties in conducting the war. We tried to seek remedies.”

“By plotting against the Fiihrer?”

“Don’t be a fool! Oster was a dreamer, but what he had in mind, and I concurred, was changing the entire face of our efforts in the field. We felt that a Commander-in-Chief East should immediately be appointed. That is where our potential problems lay. His staff would be augmented, and any proposals for the conduct of the war on the eastern front could be immediately decided by the Cic-East. There would be no delays.”

Stawitzky just shook his head. It wasn’t quite what he had expected. Inwardly, Canaris was laughing.

“What about Osier’s desire to speak with our enemies … both to the east and to the west? To try to work something out?”

Canaris smiled. “Yes, Oster spoke to me about such matters, but I attached absolutely no importance to those remarks. I never thought them to be a product of any serious deliberation. From my own point of view, Osier’s dreams were nothing more than lhal—impractical, and certainly unworthy of discussion.”

“I see,” Slawilzky said. They conlinued down The corridor and entered The interrogation room at the far end. The place was furnished wilh a slurdy steel chair in The middle of a bare concrete floor that sloped slightly toward a drain at one side.

There was a water tap and a hose in the corner. A worktable faced the chair. This morning there were only a few file folders on the table. Sometimes, much to Canaris’ horror, there were various kinds of apparatuses on the table. Although the equipment had never been used on him, he had heard the screams coming from this room and he could imagine what went on down here.

Canaris sat down, eyes forward, without being told. This was becoming routine.

Stawitzky went to the table and thumbed through the file folders.

Canaris had warmed to his subject and did not want to let it go. Oster was one of the very strongest links between him and the conspiracy. By admitting a little of the truth, Canaris hoped to head off the stronger connection.

“Oster had a lot of wild schemes.”

“Oh? Plots, do you mean?” Stawitzky asked without turning around.

“No, just dreams. I was never in any doubt that any change of government during the war would not only be construed as a stab in the back but would also disrupt the home front.”

“I see.”

“I was also convinced that neither our western enemies nor the Russians would accept an offer of peace. They would automatically regard any such gesture as a sign of weakness.”

“You told this to Oster?”

“Yes. And were they actually to accept one in the first instance, they would do so only for show, in order to submit a ruthless demand for unconditional surrender thereafter.”

Stawitzky turned around, a pinched look on his face.

“Don’t you see, it would be 1918 all over again, but in a far worse form.”

“How about General Pfuhlstein’s allegations …”

Canaris sat forward. “Pfuhlstein was commander of the Brandenburg Division, so naturally he took certain dim views. He was trying to protect his own territory.”

“What are you talking about?”

A warning bell began ringing at the back of Canaris’ head.

Had Stawitzky actually come up with something new? “The rumor went around that I would not place the Division on the front line. That I was keeping it as my own personal bodyguard.

Sheer nonsense.”

“I understand that, Herr Admiral,” Stawitzky said. He referred to a document in one of the files. “There is a statement by Major General Alexander von Pfuhlstein that:’… Admiral Canaris predicted Germany’s certain collapse no later than Christmas.

This was in 1943.’ “

“That is a lie,” Canaris said.

“The general calls you a disseminator of pessimism.”

” Pfuhlstein misunderstood me. It can be the only explanation.”

“You did speak with him about the war?”

“Of course. Often, as a matter of fact. And my comments to him were colored by the grave responsibilities we all carried on our shoulders. But there certainly was nothing defeatist in my comments.”

“And the Brandenburg Division? Let’s return to that. You did not want them sent to the front lines?”

“Of course not.”

“When we needed the Division the most?”

Canaris dismissed the objection. “The Brandenburg Division’s real task was operations behind enemy lines, not at them.”

Stawitzky looked at Canaris for a very long time. Slowly he put the file back on the , worktable. He made a motion to someone behind Canaris, and suddenly the rat-faced corporal was there.

Canaris was startled. He had thought he was alone in the room with the interrogator. The corporal was grinning.

“Oster and Pfuhlstein … two totally unreliable witnesses,” Stawitzky said.

The corporal bent down and tied Canaris’ legs to the chair legs and then handcuffed his wrists to the chair back.

“Thank you,” the Krimiaairat said. “If you will just stand by here.” He motioned to his side.

Canaris’ heart was pounding. This was different than the other times. He did not like this. It worried him.

“They misunderstood me, that is all,” he said.

“You have never been involved in any sort of a plot against National Socialism?”

“Of course not!”

“Pfuhlstein and Oster—both men your friends—tell us that you are lying.”

“I have stated to both of those men that we would eventually emerge successfully from the war, despite our steadily mounting