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“To be truthful,” Fortin said, “I do not think that Super Spook does either, so I’ll walk you through it. This scenario is based on the premise that Odessa staged the prison break. But we don’t know that. As I said, I think it’s entirely possible that the NKGB—specifically, James, your pal Serov—was involved. The breakout was a little too classy for Odessa.

“But for sake of discussion, let us say Odessa was behind it. They wanted to get Brigadeführer Heimstadter and Standartenführer Oskar Müller out of the Tribunal Prison because they’re important to Odessa. And then they learned that you bagged von Dietelburg and Burgdorf in Vienna. Those two are more important to Odessa—you will recall that von Dietelburg was Himmler’s adjutant—so they decided to let Heimstadter and Müller stay locked up for the time being.”

Cronley said, “You think we’re wasting time looking for them here, or, for that matter, in Germany?”

“Never underestimate your enemy, James. I’m surprised you don’t know that. And now we come to the part where I tell you what you can do for me.”

“I’m going to check on Bruce,” Ginger said, getting to her feet, “and then get some sleep.”

Everyone got to their feet, too.

She nodded at the men, said good night, and walked out of the bar.

“What’s on your greedy mind, Jean-Paul?” Cronley said.

“I’d like to see this castle you’re always talking about.”

“As would I,” Father McGrath said.

“You have access to a light airplane?” Cronley said to Fortin.

“I have a Fieseler Storch.”

“That figures,” Cronley said. “I’ll talk to Cohen. But if I call, you’ll have to come right then.”

“Fair enough,” Fortin said, who then offered his hand to Father McGrath. “Pleasure meeting you.”

IV

[ONE]

The Mansion

Offenbach Platz 101

Nuremberg, American Zone of Occupation, Germany

1205 16 April 1946

“Where are we going?” Father McGrath asked as the lead car pulled off Offenbach and stopped before the twelve-foot-tall, sheet-metal-covered gate in the Compound’s fifteen-foot-high wall.

“This place used to belong to the local Gauleiter,” Cronley replied.

“The governor?” Ginger said.

“Yeah, the Nazi asshole in charge,” Cronley said. “Now that he’s in the Tribunal Prison, he doesn’t need this place anymore, so I took it over.”

The gate slid open and the convoy drove inside.

“Very nice,” Ginger said as the Mansion came into view.

“The Gauleiter lived well. Twenty-eight rooms, a swimming pool, and a sauna.”

“What are we going to do here?” Ginger asked.

“After we pick up fresh bodyguards, and Casey Wagner, we’re going to the Tribunal, where I will introduce Father McGrath to Colonel Cohen. He will arrange a tour of the Tribunal for you while he’s talking to Father McGrath about Saint Heinrich the Divine and his new religion.”

* * *