Dragon's Teeth

by Sinclair, Upton;

  It soon became clear that neither Dimitroff nor the other defendants had ever known van der Lubbe or had anything to do with the Reichstag fire. The mistake had arisen because there was a parliamentary archivist in the Reichstag building who happened to resemble the half-witted Dutchman, and it was with him that the Communist Torgler had been seen in conversation. The proceedings gradually turned into a trial of the Brown Book, with the unseen British committee as prosecutors and the Nazis as defendants. Goebbels appeared and denounced the volume, and Dimitroff mocked him and made him into a spectacle. Then came the corpulent head of the Prussian state; it was a serious matter for him, because the incendiaries had operated from his residence and it was difficult indeed to imagine that he hadn’t known what was going on. Under the Bulgarian’s stinging accusations Göring lost his temper completely and had to be saved by the presiding judge, who ordered Dimitroff dragged out, while Göring screamed after him: “I am not afraid of you, you scoundrel. I am not here to be questioned by you … You crook, you belong to the gallows! You’ll be sorry yet, if I catch you when you come out of prison!” Not very dignified conduct for a Minister-Präsident of Prussia and Reichsminister of all Germany!

  X

  During these entertaining events two communications came to Lanny Budd at his hotel. The first was painful indeed; a cablegram from his father, saying that the newly elected directors of Budd Gunmakers had met, and that both Robbie and his brother had been cheated of their hopes. Seeing the younger on the verge of victory, Lawford had gone over to a Wall Street group which had unexpectedly appeared on the scene, backed by the insurance company which held the Budd bonds. The thing which Grandfather Samuel had dreaded and warned against all his life—Budd’s had been taken out of the hands of the family!

  “Oh, Lanny, how terrible!” exclaimed Irma. “We should have been there to attend to it.”

  “I doubt if we could have done anything,” he replied. “If Robbie had thought so, he would surely have cabled us.”

  “What Uncle Lawford did was an act of treason to the family!”

  “He is that kind of man; one of those dark souls who commit crimes. I have often had the thought that he might shoot Robbie rather than let him get the prize which both have been craving all their lives.”

  “What does he get out of the present arrangement?”

  “The satisfaction of keeping Robbie out; and, of course, the Wall Street crowd may have paid him. Anyhow, Robbie has his contract, so they can’t fire him.”

  “I bought all that stock for nothing!” exclaimed the young wife.

  “Not for nothing, but for a high price, I fear. You had best cable Uncle Joseph to look into the matter thoroughly and advise you whether to sell it or hold on. Robbie, no doubt, will be writing us the details.”

  The other communication was very different; a letter addressed to Lanny in his own handwriting, and his heart gave a thump when he saw it, for he had given that envelope to Hugo Behr. It was postmarked Munich and Lanny tore it open quickly, and saw that Hugo had cut six letters out of a newspaper and pasted them onto a sheet of paper—a method of avoiding identification well known to kidnapers and other conspirators. “Jawohl” can be one word or two. With space after the first two letters, as Hugo had pasted them, it told Lanny that Freddi Robin was in Dachau and that he was well.

  So the American playboy forgot about his father’s lost hopes and his own lost heritage. A heavy load was lifted from his mind, and he sent two cablegrams, one to Mrs. Dingle in Juan—the arrangement being that the Robins were to open such messages—and the other to Robbie in Newcastle: “Clarinet music excellent,” that being the code. To the latter message the dutiful son added: “Sincere sympathy don’t take it too hard we still love you.” Robbie would take this with a grin.

  Irma and Lanny tore Hugo’s message into small pieces and sent it on its way to the capacious sewers of Berlin. They still had hope of some favor to be gained from the head of the Prussian government. At any moment Leutnant Furtwaengler might show up and announce: “We have found your Yiddisher friend.” Until then, Lanny could only wait; for when you are cultivating acquaintances in die grosse Welt, you don’t say to these persons: “I have made certain that you are lying to me, and propose that we now proceed to negotiate upon that basis.” No, Lanny couldn’t even say: “I have doubts.” For right away the Oberleutnant would look surprised and ask: “What is the basis of them?” Lanny couldn’t even say: “I urge you to try harder”; for important persons must be assumed to have their hands full.

  XI

  The sum of more than four hundred thousand marks which had been paid for Detaze pictures had been deposited in Berlin banks. It would be up to Lanny and Zoltan to use those marks in purchasing art works for their American clients, who would make their payments in New York; thus the pair would have to ask no favors of the Nazis. Lanny had obtained information from a list of clients in America, and Zoltan had a list which he had been accumulating over a period of many years; so there would be no difficulty in doing a sufficient amount of business. They had agreed to go fifty-fifty on all transactions.

  Lanny had suggested taking the show to Munich for a week, and his friend had approved. Here was a great art-loving public, and sales were certain; moreover, Beauty got fun out of it, and Lanny knew of pictures which might be bought there. Jerry Pendleton, who had been waiting in Berlin to take the unsold Detazes back to France, would see to packing and transporting them to Munich. The Herr Privatdozent assured them that he enjoyed even more influence in the Bavarian city, the cradle of National Socialism. He would be paid another fifteen thousand marks for his services, plus his expenses for two weeks. He was planning to live high.

  Hugo Behr returned to Berlin, reporting that he had made contact with an old party acquaintance who was now one of the S.A. guards in the camp of Dachau. To this man Hugo had explained that he had a friend who was owed money by a young Jew, and wondered if the debtor was still alive and if there was any prospect of his coming out. The report had been that Freddi Robin had been in the camp for four or five months; had been pretty roughly treated before he came there, and now was kept by himself, for what reason the S.A. man didn’t know. What he had meant by reporting Freddi as “well” was that he was alive and not being abused, so far as the informant had heard. Nobody was happy in Dachau, and least of all any Jew.

  Hugo added: “We might be able to trust that fellow, because I had a long talk with him and he feels about events pretty much as I do. He’s sick of his job, which isn’t at all what he bargained for. He says there are plenty of others who feel the same, though they don’t always talk. You know, Lanny, the Germans aren’t naturally a cruel people, and they don’t like having the most brutal and rowdyish fellows among them picked out and put in charge.”

  “Did he say that?” inquired Lanny.

  “He said even more. He said he’d like to see every Jew put out of Germany, but he didn’t see any sense in locking them up and kicking them around, just for being what they were born. I told him my idea that the party is being led astray and that it’s up to the rank and file to set it straight. He was interested, and maybe we’ll have an organized group in Dachau.”

  “That’s fine,” commented the American; “and I’m ever so much obliged to you. I’m going to Munich pretty soon and perhaps you can come again, and I’ll have some other message for your friend.” At the same time he took a little roll of hundred-mark notes out of his pocket and slipped them into his friend’s—a matter of only a few inches as they sat side by side in the car.

  XII

  To his wife Lanny said: “There might be a possibility of getting Freddi out without waiting forever on the fat General.”

  “Oh, do be careful!” exclaimed Irma. “That would be a fearful risk to take!”

  “Only as a last resort. But I really think Göring has had time enough to peer into all the concentration camps in the Reich.”

  He made up his mind to call up Oberleutnant Furtwaen
gler and inquire concerning the promised investigation. But he put it off till the next morning, and before he got round to it the young staff officer was announced and ushered up to the suite. “Herr Budd,” he said, “are you free for the next two or three days?”

  “I could get free.”

  “Seine Exzellenz has earned a holiday after the strain of his court appearances.” The serious young officer said this without the least trace of a smile, and Lanny assented with the gravest of nods. “Seine Exzellenz is taking a shooting trip to the estate of Prinz von Schwarzerober in the Schorfheide, and would be pleased if you would accompany him.”

  “That is very kind indeed,” replied the American, with a carefully measured amount of cordiality. “I appreciate the honor and will enjoy the opportunity to know the General better.”

  “Unfortunately,” added the other, “this is what you Americans, I believe, call a ‘stag’ affair.”

  “A stag affair in two senses of the word,” smiled Lanny, who knew about shooting in the German forests. “My wife won’t object to staying here, for she has friends who keep her entertained.”

  “Very well, then,” replied the Oberleutnant. “The car will call for you at fifteen o’clock tomorrow.”

  Later, the young couple went driving and talked over the situation. “He wants something,” declared the husband. “I suppose I’m going to find out about it now.”

  “Let him do the talking,” cautioned Irma. “You saw that he expects it.” She was nine years younger than her husband, and had met the General only once, but she knew all about his Prunksucht, his delight in self-display, both physical and mental. “He has to prove that he’s the greatest man in the company, the greatest in the government, perhaps the greatest in the world. He will do anything for you if you convince him you believe that.”

  Lanny’s mother had been supplying him with that sort of instruction all through his life. He wondered: had Irma got it from Beauty—or from the Great Mother of them all?

  23

  All the Kingdoms of the World

  I

  Lanny in his boyhood had observed the feudal system operating in Stubendorf, and had found it paternal and pleasant; so he could understand how the Nazis had made the same discovery. The party was bound for the hunting preserve of one of those great landlords who had been the friends of Hauptmann Göring in the days when he was an ace aviator, successor to von Richthofen in command of that famous squadron. These wealthy Junkers had allied themselves with the Hitler party upon Göring’s assurance that they would be properly cared for, and Göring now was seeing that the pledge was kept. There wasn’t going to be any “Second Revolution” in Prussia if the head of the government could prevent it, and he thought that he could.

  The party traveled in that six-wheeled Mercédès which Lanny had come to call “the tank.” The chauffeur and the guard who rode beside him were black-uniformed Schutzstaffel men, both well armed. The very large General lolled in the back seat, with Lanny in the place of honor beside him. In two retractable seats rode Oberst Siemans, a Reichswehr officer who was a World War buddy of the General’s, and Hauptmann Einstoss, an S.A. man who had accompanied Göring in his flight to Switzerland after the Beerhall Putsch. A second car followed with Furtwaengler and another staff officer, a secretary, a telephone operator, and a valet.

  The party in the “tank” talked about the trial. Lanny wished he might hear what they would have said if he hadn’t been along, but there was no way to arrange that. They talked on the assumption that the five prisoners were the spawn of Satan, and that the General had completely annihilated Dimitroff. When they asked Lanny what would be the opinion of the outside world, he replied that all people were inclined to believe what it was in their interest to believe, and the outside world was afraid of the Nazis because it suspected that they meant to rearm Germany. Thus, if one was cautious, it was possible to avoid lying and at the same time avoid giving offense.

  They drove at high speed, with a powerful horn giving notice to all the world to clear the way. Toward dusk they left the highway and entered a heavy forest; they drove many miles on a private road before coming to a hunting lodge, well lighted for their reception. A spacious hall, with bearskins on the floor and trophies on the walls; a glass-cased rack of guns at one end, a banquet-table at the other, and a great stone fireplace with logs blazing. There was no host—the place had been turned over to the General. Servants in green foresters’ uniforms brought drinks, and when Seine Exzellenz called for supper there came a procession of men, each bearing a silver platter: the first containing a huge roasted boar’s head, steaming hot, the second a haunch of venison, the third several capercailzie, a kind of grouse bigger than any chicken, and the fourth some fricasseed hares. Lanny, dining under the feudal system, could only laugh and beg for mercy. His host, proud of his prowess as a trencherman, was not displeased to have others take an attitude of inferiority.

  It was the same with the drinking. Hot punch and cold Moselle, burning brandy sauces, cocktails, beer—there was apparently no ordained sequence; the valiant air commander took everything that he saw and called for more. The way Lanny saved himself was by music; when they started singing he took his glass of punch to the piano and played and sang: “Show me the way to go home, boys,” and other “college songs” which he had learned as a boy from his father. The General was amused, and Lanny kept him entertained with various kinds of American humor: “Yankee Doodle” and “Down Went McGinty” and “There’ll be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.” Whether they all knew the language didn’t matter, for pretty soon they didn’t know what they knew. He played “My Old Kentucky Home” and they wept; he played “The Arkansas Traveler” and “Turkey in the Straw” and they tried to dance. Lanny cut his capers on the keyboard, and the head of the Prussian state approved of him so ardently that he wouldn’t let his own valet help him upstairs, but insisted upon having the young American on one side and a blue-eyed Wendish damsel on the other.

  This was another aspect of the feudal system about which Lanny had heard talk and which he now saw in action. The men servants who had brought in the heavy dishes had disappeared, and desserts and coffee and various drinks were served by young women in peasant costumes with flaxen hair in heavy braids down their backs. They were not prostitutes, but daughters of the servants and retainers; they curtsied to these high-born great gentlemen in uniforms, danced with them when invited, and were prepared to be honored by their further attentions. Not much flirtation or cajoling was called for; they obeyed commands. Fortunately for Lanny there were not enough to go around, and his renunciation was appreciated.

  The party arose late next day. There was no hurry, for this kind of shooting proceeds according to the convenience of the shooters and not of the game. After a “fork breakfast” they set out to stands in the forests, and beaters drove stags and buffalo and boar out of the thickets into the open ranges. Lanny had the honor of being posted with the General, and he waited respectfully while the great man shot, and when he was told that it was his turn he upheld the reputation of Budd Gunmakers. It was worth while for him to do so, for he guessed it wouldn’t be long before Robbie would be making use of these valuable connections.

  II

  Having obtained recreation and exercise by pulling the trigger of a rifle, Seine Exzellenz returned to the hunting lodge and took up the reins of government. Apparently he had had a private wire run into the estate, and for a couple of hours he listened to reports and gave orders. He sounded angry most of the time—or was that just his way of governing? It was almost as if he were trying to communicate with Berlin by the medium of the air instead of by a copper wire. His bellowing echoed through the house, and Lanny, anxious not to overhear, went into the billiard room and watched the two junior officers winning small sums from each other. Now and then, when the tones rose especially loud, they would grin at Lanny and he would grin back—this being a privilege of subordinates.

  The guest would have liked
to walk in that lovely deep forest, but had the idea that he should hold himself at the disposal of his host; and sure enough, after the State of Prussia had received its marching orders for the morrow, Lanny was summoned to the Presence, and found out why he had been taken on a shooting trip. Reclining at ease in a sky-blue silk dressing gown with ermine trimmings, the portly Kommandant of the German Air Force led the conversation into international channels, and began explaining the difficulties of getting real information as to the attitude of ruling circles in other European capitals. He had agents aplenty, paid them generous salaries, and allowed them to pad their expense accounts; but those who were the most loyal had the fewest connections, while those who really had the connections were just as apt to be working for the other side.

  “Understand me, Budd”—he had got to that stage of intimacy—“I am not so foolish as to imagine that I could employ you. I know you have a well-paying profession, not to mention a rich wife. I also had one, and discovered that such a spouse expects attentions and does not leave one altogether free. But it happens that you go about and gather facts; and no doubt you realize when they are important.”

  “I suppose that has happened now and then,” said Lanny, showing a coming-on disposition, but not too much.

  “What I should like to have is, not an agent, but a friend; a gentleman, whose sense of honor I could trust, and who would not be indifferent to the importance of our task in putting down the Red menace in Germany, and perhaps later wiping out the nest where those vipers are being incubated. Surely one does not have to be a German in order to approve such an aim.”

  “I agree with you, Exzellenz.”

  “Call me Göring,” commanded the great one. “Perhaps you can understand how tired one gets of dealing with lackeys and flatterers. You are a man who says what he thinks, and when I box with you I get some competition.”