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Freeman said Burgdorf and von Dietelburg, after admitting that they were the Tribunal Prison escapees, appeared resigned.

“‘It is time we put this all in the past,’” Freeman quoted Burgdorf as saying before transporting them back to Nuremburg.

“I expect no less of a Norwich man,” General White joked, quickly adding that he was recommending Freeman for the Army Commendation Medal. “The lieutenant performed an invaluable service for the International Military Tribunal and its mission to provide those accused of heinous crimes against humanity with a fair trial to clear their names, if so able.”

“Nice work of fiction,” Cronley said, handing the paper back to McKenna. “Lord knows Janice is going to want something in return. But let’s hope this helps.”

“Prayer always helps,” McKenna said, then gestured toward the opening in the kitchen floor. “Finding anything?”

“Only that I’m taking this more and more personally, Father,” Serov said. “Forgive me for not wishing you a good morning.”

“Under the circumstances, Ivan, understood. But why personal?”

“As I’ve said, I devoutly believe it’s God’s mission for me to do everything in my power to stop this heretical religion. It is a main reason that I am now back in my beloved infantry—specifically, serving as adviser to Lieutenant General Roman Andreyevich Rudenko, the Soviet chief prosecutor to the Tribunal.”

“Yes. But personal?”

“Over there,” Serov said, gesturing in the direction of the castle, “about five kilometers distant, was the labor camp that Himmler named Niederhagen Konzentrationslager. The smallest of all the concentration camps, it held at its height four years ago some twelve hundred prisoners, mostly Soviet prisoners of war. Also imprisoned there were a great many Jehovah’s Witness members.

“They shut down Niederhagen KZ in 1943 after more than a thousand died of typhus. We learned through sources that most survivors were transferred to Buchenwald, though an unknown number were imprisoned at Wewelsburg . . .”

“The slave laborers whose bodies we found,” Cronley said, making it a question.

“Absolutely, James. Has to be. The state of decomposition is proof their deaths were too recent to be part of the slaves lost to typhus. It is entirely possible, of course, that they could be counted among those summarily executed.”

“T

he monthly Korherr Reports of the SS would show that,” Cronley said.

“Perhaps. One would think so, considering the detailed recordkeeping of the SS, although Heinrich Himmler and his SS were unafraid of falsifying anything if necessary to cover their tracks.”

Serov looked from Cronley to McKenna.

“Father, if I’m repeating myself, please stop me. Reichsführer-SS Himmler was absolutely ruthless. He feared only one man, Burgdorf, mostly because Burgdorf was unequivocally devoted first to Hitler and, second, to National Socialism. After Claus von Stauffenberg and his conspirators tried, and failed, to assassinate Hitler with the bomb planted at Wolf’s Lair, Der Führer became even more paranoid about those around him. Especially Rommel and Canaris, but also other Wehrmacht and Navy officers, as well as Himmler, Göring, and others in the Nazi hierarchy.

“The exception was one General der Infanterie Wilhelm Burgdorf. Hitler trusted his personal adjutant mostly because Burgdorf faithfully eliminated threats to Der Führer. Ones real or perceived. He had, for example, at Hitler’s orders, gone to Irwin Rommel in Stuttgart and seen that the Generalfeldmarschall understood that Der Führer felt he should take a quiet death—a cyanide capsule—for his role in the Wolf’s Lair debacle.

“This all was not lost on Himmler, and certainly not on his adjutant, von Dietelburg. It’s believed that when Hitler sent Burgdorf to sniff around Wewelsburg Castle, von Dietelburg made it known to him that he, too, professed loyalty to Hitler first. Not to Himmler, who von Dietelburg told Burgdorf was planning on escaping Germany through Odessa if it became necessary.”

“And he wasn’t leaving penniless,” Cronley said. “They had more than four million dollars in those two briefcases yesterday, likely part of what Himmler held in his safe. And Lord knows how much else.”

There came noises from the hole at their feet—and then Lomax’s grunting.

A black canvas duffel devoid of any markings came up through the hole and hit the kitchen floor with a muffled thud.

Lomax said, “This is the first of four we found in the part that served as the command post or map room. They were positioned near its entry, stacked as if staged to be transported somewhere else. The other eight rooms all contained single beds and cots, along with washbasins and toilets.”

“That’s it?” Cronley said.

“For now, this—I mean, the four duffels—is it. We’ve been through everything, best I can tell. We’re still looking, using hammers to hunt for hidden passages. But, so far, no tunnels. This place appears to have been a safe house of sorts, a bunker separate from the main complex nearby where that warrant officer had those Nazi farmworkers.”

“Wynne,” Cronley furnished. “Who devoutly believed he’d cleared the bastards. So far we’ve identified eleven of them as Nazis. It would surprise me not one bit that they knew about this damn bunker.”

“Take a peek in the bag,” Lomax said. “It’s impressive.”

Cronley squatted next to the duffel. He pulled on its heavy brass zipper, and the bag’s big mouth slowly spread open wide. Inside was a huge tumble of neat, thick stacks of currency, what appeared to be mostly Swiss francs.

“My God,” Serov said. “That easily could be fourfold what the briefcases held yesterday.”