The Suicide Exhibition: The Never War (Never War 1) by Justin Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

fingers together. He seemed not at all nervous or disconcerted.
    ‘Your plane crashed. Were you lost?’
    ‘No. The bad weather was to blame.’
    ‘You don’t seem to have had an escort. And you couldn’t have had enough fuel to get back home.’
    ‘What makes you think I planned to return to Germany?’
    Guy wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he tried a different tack. ‘You think the Duke can help you in some way? Maybe put in a good word?’
    The man laughed. Standing in front of the closed door, Corporal Matthews frowned. He evidently didn’t understand a word of the exchange.
    The prisoner leaned forward across the desk. ‘I do not need a good word, as you put it. I have information that I shall share only with the Duke of Hamilton. He will know who to pass it on to.’
    ‘What is the nature of this information, Hauptmann Horn?’
    ‘It is classified. And “Hauptmann Horn” is merely the name I gave my captors. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when they didn’t recognise me.’
    There
was
something familiar about the man, Guy realised.They had not met before, he was sure of that. But he’d seen a picture of the man, perhaps. Or newsreel footage… It came to him in a dizzying flash just as the man spelled it out:
    ‘If I tell you who I really am, perhaps that will smooth the wheels and you will summon the Duke. My name is Rudolf Hess, and I am the Deputy Fuhrer of the Third Reich.’
    It was like he was in a different room, watching the scene unfold. Guy was aware how startled he must look. Corporal Matthews was looking on in bewilderment. Hess seemed amused at Guy’s surprise.
    ‘But – why?’ was all Guy could eventually stammer.
    ‘Why come here? Oh there will be a story, I am sure. Bormann will already be working with Goebbels to denounce me. He’s been after my job for years, you know. No doubt they’ll say my nerves deserted me and I came to sue for peace or some such rubbish.’
    ‘Whereas…?’ Guy prompted. He still could not believe that he was sitting opposite the Deputy Fuhrer in an ill-furnished office in a Glasgow barracks.
    ‘Whereas, as I told you, I have vital information for the Duke of Hamilton.’
    ‘Why the Duke of Hamilton?’
    ‘As I say, we have met. Once. Briefly. He is well-read. We share certain… interests. I think, from what I know of him, that he will understand the importance of my information.’
    ‘But you won’t tell me.’
    Hess leaned back and folded his arms. His small eyes narrowed to slits as he stared back at Guy. ‘Are you familiar with the work of Lord Lytton?’
    ‘Is he a colleague of the Duke of Hamilton?’
    Hess sighed. ‘Hardly. Perhaps you know him better as Edward Bulwer-Lytton?’
    Guy shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. Perhaps I don’t move in the right circles.’
    ‘Or read the right books.’ Hess nodded, as if coming to a decision. ‘Lord Hamilton – it must be him. His Grace will know who in your government should be informed.’
    Guy was obviously getting nowhere. Maybe the man was mad, driven over the edge by the war and the weight of responsibility. Did he have a guilty conscience? Yet he seemed very much in control.
    ‘You think Hamilton will talk to you?’ Guy asked.
    Hess nodded. ‘But tell him this. Tell him I wish to speak of the Vril. Tell him it concerns the Coming Race.’ He stood up, putting his weight on his good leg. ‘Now I am tired. I will rest until His Grace arrives.’
    Lord Hamilton, it transpired, had already been contacted. But he had no idea of the real identity of the captured German. Having spent an intense half hour with the barracks commander, Guy had just ended an urgent phone call to Chivers in London when there was a knock on the door of the room he was now using as an office.
    ‘Hamilton,’ the newcomer announced, shaking hands with Guy. He looked as if he was on his way to a funeral, dressed in a black suit and carrying a dark hat. ‘I’d only just got home and