The Doomsday Testament(24)

‘Thanks for agreeing to see me at such short notice,’ Jamie greeted him. ‘What can I get you?’

They settled for two Stellas and wandered back to the table, where David took the seat with the same view of the door he’d had earlier. As they sipped their beers the younger man studiously avoided mentioning Jamie’s battered face and chatted in accent-free English and with a diplomat’s ease about the weather and London and the world in general. It became clear he was Jewish, but that came as no surprise given his friendship with Simon.

Jamie was perfectly happy to allow David to make the running and it was a few minutes before he quietly steered the conversation to business.

‘Simon said you were interested in Nazis. May I ask why?’

Jamie surprised himself with his reply. ‘I specialize in hunting down artwork stolen during the war. Perhaps Simon mentioned the Mandelbaum Rembrandt?’ David nodded. ‘This is in connection with another missing painting, but I’m afraid my agreement with the client means I can’t say for whom.’

David smiled, a man who could appreciate confidentiality. ‘Nazis in general, or a particular Nazi?’

‘Not Nazis in general, no, I could get that information from a book. A particular Nazi, but not one of the better known names.’

‘And the name is?’

‘Walter Brohm.’

The two words hung in the air between them like a dangling noose.

‘Walter Brohm?’

Jamie nodded. ‘The name is familiar?’

The other man studied him before making up his mind to continue. ‘Not one of the better known Nazi personalities, but an interesting character, nonetheless. Yes, I am familiar with Brigadeführer Walter Brohm.’

‘Brigadeführer?’

‘The SS equivalent of a brigadier in your British army. Son of a pastor, born in Dresden, nineteen thirteen. University educated. Joined the Nazi party in nineteen thirty-one at the age of eighteen and was accepted into the SS in September nineteen thirty-four; his SS number, by the way, is 39520. You are impressed so far?’

‘Very.’ It struck Jamie that whatever other talents he possessed, David was one of those extraordinary people blessed with a photographic memory.

‘Such information is available if you know where to look,’ he said modestly. ‘It is a little hobby of mine.’

Jamie accepted the unlikely statement without comment. ‘Please carry on.’

‘Brohm studied applied physics under Erich Schumann at the University of Berlin – Schumann was one of the top Nazi physicists – graduated in nineteen thirty-four, and was awarded his doctorate two years later. In nineteen thirty-nine, along with other Nazi scientists, he began work on the Uranverein project at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute. Simon said you speak German, you understand Uranverein?’

‘Uranium Club?’

‘Correct, and you make the proper connections from this, yes?’

‘The Nazi nuclear project.’

David took a sip of his beer. ‘Ten out of ten, Mr Saintclair. Brohm continued to work on the project until nineteen forty-one, at which point it was downgraded when it became clear the Uranverein would not bear fruit in time to help the Nazis win the war.’ He noticed Jamie frowning. ‘You are surprised?’

‘Yes, I thought the nuclear race continued right up to the last days of the war.’

‘A popular notion, but not correct. The Nazis critically damaged their nuclear effort in nineteen forty-one. That was the year they sent many of their best scientists to Auschwitz.’ His smile lost its warmth. ‘You see, their fondness for killing Jews may actually have lost them the war.’

‘Do you know what happened to Brohm after nineteen forty-one?’

David hesitated and his dark eyes narrowed. ‘I still don’t quite understand your great interest in this man. There is no record of him being involved in any of the art theft or looting that so many high-ranking German officers carried out. No link to any particular painting.’

Jamie smiled disarmingly. ‘Come on, David, we both know that just because there aren’t any records doesn’t mean it couldn’t have happened. There are still thousands of pieces of art that haven’t been traced. Probably nothing will come of it, but if my clients say it’s possible, it’s my job to follow it up.’

He could see David was unconvinced, but after a moment’s hesitation the younger man nodded. ‘Very well. We have very little information about his work. There are fragmentary records, including a suggestion he may have been in Poland in nineteen forty-four, but they are too limited for our purposes.’

‘Then why do you know so much about him?’