Secrets of the Last Nazi by Iain King Page B

uncomfortable.
    Heike-Ann didn’t allow the lawyer’s silence to stop her. ‘Sir, I believe that this commission of investigation, which I have been mandated to facilitate, has a legal basis which overrules provisions of the German Basic Law.’
    The lawyer looked nervous, as though he’d been humbled by an amateur but was trying to hide it.
    Heike-Ann rammed her point home. ‘You see, this team does not just have diplomatic immunity. It has a mandate which originates in the Treaty of Yalta. That means it comes from international law, which overrides Germany’s Grundgesetz . So if this team make a request, you have a legal obligation to comply.’
    Jean-François rallied behind her. ‘… And we request all your papers on Werner Stolz, including information about whom you should give them to.’
    It was almost half a minute before the lawyer offered an answer. ‘You must put your case in writing,’ he said, dryly.
    Glenn slammed his fist on the table. ‘Damn that! We’ve already got it in writing.’ He pulled out his printed emails and thrust them in the lawyer’s face.
    The lawyer peered down his nose at the American. ‘So you have a copy of the Treaty of Yalta. Good for you. You must still make your case in writing.’
    Zenyalena squared her eyes to the lawyer’s. ‘No. Under the authority granted to our governments in 1945, you must submit your papers to us immediately. If you do not then you are obstructing international law, which underpins the German constitution.’
    Zenyalena, Glenn, Heike-Ann and Jean-François all focussed on the lawyer, watching him weigh his options.
    The old German lawyer could tell Zenyalena and the motley foreigners in his office were partly bluffing. None of them were legal experts. If he tried, he could delay them in the courts. Perhaps humiliate them, as they were humiliating him now. But he knew that was unlikely. The Great Powers would never allow it. Instead, they’d crush him. The foreigners only needed to hire a semi-competent lawyer and they’d easily get what they wanted. The legal point was clear: certain aspects of international law did trump the German constitution, even after all these years.
    It was just a question of time: surrender Werner Stolz’s papers now, or be forced to later, by the courts.
    The lawyer looked again at the four people in front of him. ‘Without confirming I accept your legal position, I am willing to comply with your request,’ he acknowledged.
    Jean-François looked at Zenyalena and Glenn, not sure whether to believe their luck, while Heike-Ann smiled shyly.
    The lawyer said something in German to his secretary, who nodded discreetly, scurried into a side office, and returned a few seconds later with a single box file.
    Zenyalena looked disappointed. ‘Is that all?’
    The lawyer smirked, slightly surprised that he was having the last laugh. ‘Yes, that’s all.’
    Glenn, Zenyalena and Heike-Ann also rose to their feet, all keen to leave the lawyer as fast as they could. Heike-Ann and Jean-François shook hands with the man as they left; Zenyalena refused.
    Last to leave was Glenn. ‘One question.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Who was the person Stolz authorised you to give these papers to?’
    The lawyer paused before he answered, wondering again whether to hold back the secret. But he knew the same logic applied: tell now or be forced to tell later. He looked through his thick glasses at the American. He would at least gain pleasure from answering the foreigner correctly, without satisfying him at all. ‘The papers say “These are for a foreign man about to die, at the start of a trial by air, fire, earth and water”.’
    Glenn frowned. ‘And who’s that?’
    The lawyer shrugged, ‘I do not know,’ he said. Then his face contorted into an artificial smile, gloating openly. ‘Goodbye.’

Twenty
    Berlin
    12.20 p.m. CET (11.20 a.m. GMT)
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    D riving back to Stolz’s old apartment in Am Krusenick Street, the team