The Odessa File - Page 99

‘Oh dear God,’ he whispered, ‘you didn’t come about the Jews at all.’

‘No. I’m sorry for them, but not that sorry.’

‘But how could you know, how could you possibly know from that diary that the man was your father? I never knew his name, this Jew who wrote the diary never knew, how did you know?’

‘My father was killed on October 11th, 1944, in Ostland,’ said Miller. ‘For twenty years that was all I knew. Then I read the diary. It was the same day, the same area, the two men had the same rank. Above all, both men wore the Knight’s Cross with Oak Leaf cluster, the highest award for bravery in the field. There weren’t all that many of those awarded, and very few to mere army captains. It would have been millions to one against two identical officers dying in the same area on the same day.’

Roschmann knew he was up against a man whom no argument could influence. He stared as if mesmerised at the gun.

‘You’re going to kill me. You mustn’t do that, not in cold blood. You wouldn’t do that. Please, Miller, I don’t want to die.’

Miller leaned forward and began to talk.

‘Listen to me, you repulsive piece of dog-shit. I’ve listened to you and your twisted mouthings till I’m sick to my guts. Now you’re going to listen to me while I make up my mind whether you die here or rot in some jail for the rest of your days.

‘You had the nerve, the crass bloody nerve, to tell me that you, you of all people, were a patriotic German. I’ll tell you what you are. You and all your kind were and are the filthiest crap that was ever elevated from the gutters of this country to positions of power. And in twelve years you smeared my country with your dirt in a way that has never happened throughout our history.

‘What you did sickened and revolted the whole of civilised mankind and left my generation a heritage of shame to live down that’s going to take us all the rest of our lives. You spat on Germany throughout your lives. You bastards used Germany and the German people until they could not be used any more and then you quit while the going was good. You brought us so low it would have been inconceivable before your crew came along, and I don’t mean in terms of bomb damage.

&nbs

p; ‘You weren’t even brave. You were the most sickening cowards ever produced in Germany or Austria. You murdered millions for your own profit and in the name of your maniac power-lust, and then you got out and left the rest of us in the shit. You ran away from the Russians, hanged and shot army men to keep them fighting and then disappeared and left my generation to carry the can.

‘Even if there could be any oblivion of what you did to the Jews and the others, there can never be any forgetting that your lot ran and hid like the dogs you are. You talk of patriotism, you don’t even know the meaning of the word. And as for daring to call army soldiers and others who fought, really fought, for Germany Kamerad, it’s a bloody obscenity.

‘I’ll tell you one other thing, as a young German of the generation you so plainly despise. This prosperity we have today, it’s got nothing to do with you. It’s got a lot to do with millions who work a hard day and never murdered anyone in their lives. And as for murderers like you who may still be among us, as far as I and my generation are concerned we would put up with a little less prosperity if we could be sure scum like you were not still around. Which, incidentally, you are not going to be for very long.’

‘You’re going to kill me,’ mumbled Roschmann.

‘As a matter of fact I’m not.’

Miller reached behind him and pulled the telephone over towards where he sat on the desk. He kept his eyes on Roschmann and the gun pointed. He took the receiver off the cradle, slid it on the desk and dialled. When he had finished he picked up the receiver.

‘There’s a man in Ludwigsburg wants to have a chat with you,’ he said, and put the telephone to his ear. It was dead.

He laid it back in the cradle, took it off again and listened for the dialling tone. There was none.

‘Have you cut this off?’ he asked.

Roschmann shook his head.

‘Listen, if you’ve pulled the connection out I’ll drill you here and now.’

‘I haven’t. I haven’t touched the phone this morning. Honestly.’

Miller remembered the fallen branch of the oak tree and the telegraph pole lying across the track to the house. He swore softly. Roschmann gave a small smile.

‘The lines must be down,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to go into the village. What are you going to do now?’

‘I’m going to put a bullet through you unless you do as you’re told,’ Miller snapped back. He dragged the handcuffs he had thought to use on a bodyguard out of his pocket.

He tossed the bracelets over to Roschmann.

‘Walk over to the fireplace,’ he ordered, and followed the man across the room.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to lock you to the fireplace, then go and phone from the village,’ said Miller.

Tags: Frederick Forsyth Thriller
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