“You said purged—only from the church?”

“And from the Reich, if they continued to oppose us.”

“What kind of stronger measures, Herr Korsch?”

“A ban on their activities and teachings, oaths of allegiance. If they refused to comply, imprisonment.”

“We have imposed such restrictions already.”

“With but limited success, if you’ll forgive me, Herr Reichsführer.”

Himmler glanced up at the young man sharply. “And you think you could perhaps achieve better results?” he said with a hint of cool sarcasm in his voice.

“If you will forgive me again, sir, yes, I do believe so.”

“How?”

“I have files and contacts. With the might of the Gestapo and the SS behind me, it is my conviction this disloyalty could be stopped.”

A pause followed. Himmler shuffled through several of the papers in the file in front of him, took one, glanced up and down it briefly, then said, “I understand you speak fluent Russian, Herr Korsch.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you come by it?”

“I grew up in the east, mein Reichsführer, near Poland. Many Russian immigrants lived nearby.”

“And you merely… picked it up?” queried Himmler skeptically.

“I have a penchant for languages, sir.”

“And you are fond of Russia, are you, Korsch?”

“No, sir,” replied Korsch just a trifle too quickly, though the Gestapo chief did not seem to notice. “I hate Russia, mein Reichsführer.”

“So does our beloved Führer,” rejoined Himmler. “Then why have you kept up with the Russian tongue?”

“I thought it might prove useful for our cause one day, mein Reichsführer.”

“So it might, Korsch. Have you made use of it?”

“I have some contacts at the embassy that I employ from time to time.”

Himmler took in the information with more interest than he allowed to show. “I may have need of a Gestapo agent I can trust,” he said. “There continue to be, shall we say, negotiations with the Bolsheviks. It may be that I shall need a spy who could pass for one of them. Do you think you could pass for a Russian, Korsch?”

“I believe I could, sir.”

“And you would be willing?”

“My service to the Reich is yours to command, mein Reichsführer.”

“Have you worked with the Russians before?”

“I have a lackey planted in the embassy, sir.”

“You seem to be a resourceful young man, Korsch.”

“One does not advance in the SS without being able to prove oneself.”

“Is advancement your goal?”

“My goal is to serve the Reich.”

A long pause followed. Korsch stood motionless. Himmler continued to stare at his desk, thinking.

“Can you kill, Korsch?” he asked at length, unaware of Korsch’s role in the ’34 purge.

“I can, sir.”

“With your own hands?”

“If necessary, sir.”

“Have you?”

“I have.”

Again there was a brief silence. By now it was late. The city was quiet. There were no other sounds in the building.