Uncle Hans is quite the handyman, in more ways than two! in addition to being an inveterate paedophile, yet nonetheless one who does not dismiss the object of his lecherous intentions on her reaching adulthood, but rather retains her affections even beyond her teenage years, displaying a constancy which many would admire, he is also - in addition to being a Security Guard at the Gestapo Headquarters in Berlin, where he managed to achieve the employment of his darling niece as a washer/dryer in the kitchen where she can do little wrong - she has not even broken a plate containing a likeness of Der Führer - yet her Herr und Meister is also a practising Radio Ham, or in German Funkamateur (which allows the hobby to be enjoyed by Jews or Muslims for whom the English title would be anathema) and has, for some time, been following her movements by use of a tracking device of his own invention and which he secreted in her handbag; and so it was that, as it happens, he was following her Surrey - well, his, which he had loaned her in order to be able to make her own way home to the bijou apartment in which they reside - in a nondescript workman's van, oft-times used by the Gestapo for discreet surveillance, equipped with all the materiel necessary for him to not only know where she went, but by use of it's transmitter, enable him to listen to any sounds which it might pick up and so, while she and SS-Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler were ensconced in the rather seedy room to which he had taken her, on the pretext of explaining Der Fuhrer's plans for Universal Nationalsozialismus and the German Conquest of, first the Solar System, and then, Die Sterne, and to present to her a copy of Alter Adolfs Almanach für 1940, now, Uncle Hans was himself in the back of his van listening to every sound coming from the room: he heard the bed springs when Himmler threw himself onto it and the second, gentler squeal, when Elisabeth joined him; he heard the ripping of clothes being torn off, buttons popping, bodice being sundered, lips squelching together. limbs interdigiting, sighs and moans and grunts and springs a-boinging and all the time, in his mind, "well, well, who'da thunk? there's life in the old SS-Reichsführer yet! what a turn-up for the books!" and now that he knew the location of the SS Chief's tete-a-tete he would pop in on the morrow and install some wireless cameras in the bedrooms under cover of some spurious tale about Reich Security and see what other tid-bits he might obtain; once the only sounds coming to him through the ether were the regular snores of a shagged-out, middle-aged and unfit German male, he climbed back in the cab and drove through empty streets to the apartment where he would have a serious think about whom he shoukld give first rights to this new information: the Englisch still acted as if a gentleman's honour precluded the use of, never mind the admission of it's actually existing, recordings and information acquired in such an underhand way; the Amerikaner though, might appreciate his use of new technology which he had invented himself and be willing to cover his costs, maybe even give him a little lagniappe as a token of their appreciation; and he could look forward to Elisabeth returning, quite ignorant of his knowledge, and he would rather enjoy the vicarious thrill of going where the great Himmler had just been himself - now that would be something to brag about in certain quarters! he had just gone into the back, to retrieve his tapes when, of a sudden the rear door of the van opened - you could have knocked Hans over with a feather as a pair of zetetics bundled in and began to question him: no-one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition and yet, to the fevered mind of poor Uncle Hans, that was exectly who had discovered him: "name? rank? serial number? when did you join the Party? where are you based? who are you spying on? and for whom? this is a Gestapo vehicle. by what authority are you using it? show us your orders! show us your permits! show us your papers! show us your Party Card . . . . !" the demands and questions came thick and fast, the two voices alternating yet running into one long stream, which overwhelmed poor old Uncle Hans until he sich angepisst! oh! the shame! the embarrassment! but the two quiz inquisitors seemed to find it amusing, hilarious even as they continued to barrage him with questions - it was as though they were compiling a compendium about him: his origins in Silesia, his activities, his proclivities - oh! mein Gotte! they suspected him of being a Peeping Tom! a Spanner! but worse, one of them mentioned "Peter Kürten!" the Vampyre of Düsseldorf! and he threw himself to the floor, begging and pleading for mercy, protesting his innocence of everything except caring for his beloved adopted niece - and that piqued their interest and changed the tone of their questions: "where is she? who is she with?" and he played back the tape he had just recorded and the van was willed with the unmistakable voice of SS- Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler seducing a young, innocent and vulnerable girl!