Last Man to Die (1991) by Michael Dobbs

Author:Michael Dobbs [Dobbs, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780007397853
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 1991-03-14T22:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

‘Not too hot for you, sir?’

The only reply was a grunt.

At least he’s not complaining, not yet, thought the barber. Doesn’t mind me scalding my fingers raw, but let him feel the slightest discomfort from the hot towels and he’d let the entire bloody street know. After which he’d moan about his shave not being close enough. And he never left a tip, not even at Christmas.

‘Did you see they got Hencke at last?’

‘What, you mean that bloody German? Thought they’d picked him up a long time ago.’

It was not an uncommon assumption. With so many stories queuing up to demand space in the news columns as the war drew to its climax, the coverage of Hencke’s escape had rapidly disappeared from the pages. Even today’s report had been restrained, wrapping up what editors decided was an old story.

‘No. They found the blighter in Cricklewood – or what was left of him. Seems he’d been leading the police a right merry chase, then a couple of nights ago he got caught underneath one of their V-2s. Poor sod. Seems unfair somehow.’

With victory within their grasp the British sense of fair play was beginning to flourish once more. And since Hencke had a name he was no longer simply another bloody Kraut but a real character, even an underdog, and the barber held a sporting regard for any underdog, particularly since he had done the decent thing and thrown himself under one of his own rockets.

‘Serves the miserable Hun right,’ the customer barked from underneath the towels. ‘Should have shot him if they’d caught him alive. Probably a damned war criminal anyway; most of them are.’

‘Well, I don’t suppose we shall be able to shoot them all.’

‘Damn it, but I’d like to try,’ the voice came back from within the fog of steam, as the barber tried to remember from behind which desk the customer had fought his war. ‘Particularly this one.’

‘Why him?’

‘Most dangerous type of Hun. Doesn’t know when he’s beaten. Too stupid and arrogant to know when he’s lost the bloody war.’ But it was more than that. It was his example, one lonely man – even a German – running around the country sticking his fingers in the face of Authority, an example which all too many seemed willing to follow. It couldn’t be tolerated. These were difficult and unsettled times, when people needed to be reminded about their proper place and duties. There was more than one way to lose an empire. ‘And be damned careful how you trim the moustache!’

The barber stropped the razor and examined the customer’s throat. One day, he promised himself. One day …

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