A Night of Long Knives (Hannah Vogel)
Page 29
“If you gave me something to write her about, I would be happy to mention your part. I am sure she would find it amusing.”
He shifted from foot to foot.
I smiled again, conspiratorial. “Or perhaps I could give you her address so you could tell Inez yourself.”
Dieter grinned. I tried not to picture the unrequited letters he would write.
“Inez is a poor correspondent,” I warned.
We stepped into my cabin. He undressed standing next to the folded-down bed. I tried not to imagine what Boris would think. Dieter handed me his stiff jacket, shirt, and pants, looking awkward in only his shorts and undershirt.
I changed in the bathroom, palms slick from nerves. I rolled the trouser cuffs up on the inside and pinned them in place. The jacket sleeves extended a centimeter over my hands. A close-enough fit. I slipped my Luger into the right pants pocket.
When I came out, I handed Dieter one of the zeppelin’s robes. “In case you get cold.”
He shrugged into the robe gratefully, more modest than chilled.
With trembling hands I pulled his cap on my head and walked out to the hall. I slipped sleeping powder into the coffee, sure that Anton would not drink it. I stirred thoroughly and rapped on the door.
“Steward here with your dinner.” I deepened my voice, hoping the door would muffle the sound further.
“Come in. It’s unlocked,” called Frau Röhm, as her son had done only days before. A chill chased down my spine.
I opened the door more gently than Hitler and bumped the laden cart over the threshhold. I kept my head down. Just as I had for her son, I poured Frau Röhm coffee. She too did not bother to look beyond my uniform. The rich scent of Bolivian coffee filled the room.
A slow smile spread across Anton’s face when he recognized me. I touched my left eyebrow, our secret farewell gesture, then turned to go before he gave us away.
“Wait,” she said, voice full of command. I steeled myself and turned, eyes still downcast. I could overpower her, but keeping her quiet would be another matter, especially with Dieter next door. “Your tip.”
I held out my hand, palm up. She dropped a coin in it. I bowed, already on my way out. I did not trust my voice to thank her.
I closed her door behind me, then took three giant steps to my own.
“And?” Dieter asked when I stepped inside. He held the robe tightly closed. “What did they say?”
“They did not even know it was me.” I struggled to control my breathing. It would not do to make him suspicious. “She even tipped me.” I gave him the coin she had handed me, plus a few of my own. I hoped that he would not get into too much trouble tomorrow.
“I will tell them in the morning. What a lovely surprise it will be!” I twirled his hat in my hands with forced energy. “I wish Inez were here to see it.”
I changed into my own clothes, transferred the Luger to my pocket, and relinquished the bathroom.
When he emerged, he held out a callused hand. I handed him a sheet of paper with a false address in Bolivia. I did not want to deceive him, but saw no other way.
He folded it carefully in half and stuck it in the inner pocket of his uniform jacket. “Thank you.”
I nodded without meeting his eyes and ushered him out of my room.
I sat on my canvas stool and waited. I had to give her time to drink the coffee and let the drug take effect. She must be tired already. It was growing late. Orange and red streaked across the sky, eventually fading to purple and indigo, the glorious sunset promised by the woman at the ticket counter. Was Frau Röhm watching it too?
The sky darkened. I could wait no longer, one way or the other. When the zeppelin docked in Switzerland, Anton and I must disembark. If we did not, we would be playing cat and mouse all the way to South America. It was only a matter of time before the staff from the previous voyage gave me away.
I put my hand in my pocket and touched the cold gun. Would a gunshot ignite the entire zeppelin? I pictured its silver surface turning into a fireball, the nose tipping toward the ground. Everyone on board would die. Nonsense, I told myself sternly. How much harm could a single gunshot really do?
I stepped into the empty hall and crept the three steps to her door. Slowly, I turned the silver knob. If she slept, I did not want to wake her. Gathering my courage, I opened the door and stepped inside.
Electric light illuminated a room like my own, stools pushed to the side, beds folded down, suitcases neatly closed. I stepped past the food cart and peered at the bunks.
Anton slept curled up on the upper bunk like a puppy. From the lower bunk Frau Röhm stared at me in astonishment. I looked back just as astonished. She probably expected our SS tail had picked me up and expected me to be in a Gestapo interrogation center. For my part, I had expected her to be asleep. As usual, we were both disappointed.
She opened her mouth to scream and I raised the Luger. She froze. Anton sat and rubbed his eyes sleepily.
“Stay quiet.” Her cold blue eyes took my measure, trying to decide if I would shoot her. I could not see the coffeepot from where I stood. Was it empty, or full?
“You will bring out the entire crew if you fire that.” She sat and straightened her nightcap. Her hand smoothed an old-fashioned cotton nightshirt edged in lace. She looked like the grandmother from Little Red Riding Hood. But she was the wolf.
“I do not need it.”
She cocked her head to the side, interested. The upper bunk creaked when Anton moved forward.
“Stay back, Anton,” I said, louder than I had intended. I did not want her to take him hostage. He yelped and crawled to the back corner of his bunk.
“You are indeed resourceful,” she said. “You and Ernst would have made a good match.”
I almost laughed. “The time for that is long since past.”
“That is your fault. If you had only married him, he would be alive and we would all be safe in Munich.” She shifted in her bunk. I knew she measured the space between us, trying to find an advantage. I kept my distance.
“Did you like your coffee?” She looked puzzled.
Her eyes widened and her veined left hand fluttered to her throat. Then she smiled. “I never drink coffee in the evening.”
Truth or lie? I kept up my bluff.
“Thank you for the excellent tip.” I held the barrel steady, though the gun grew heavier with each passing second. I could not hold it forever. “Most unexpected.”
“I believe you thrive on the unexpected.” She blinked. Her eyelids fought to open again. The drug? Or did she try to fool me?
Her right hand emerged from under her pillow holding a pistol. The barrel pointed right at my chest. “Checkmate.”
“Not quite.” I struggled to keep my voice as level as her barrel. “I slipped something into your food.”
She raised an eyebrow skeptically, but her eyes looked glassy. Or did I imagine it?
“I think you can feel it.” At least I hoped so.
She shook her head, but fear crept into her eyes. Good.
“You have to wonder,” I continued, as the gun wavered in her hand. “If you will ever wake up from it.”
Anton gasped from the top bunk. “Mother?” His voice sounded shocked and hurt. Even after all she had put him through, she was still his grandmother. If there is a later, I will explain it to you, I promised silently.
“Then I had best shoot you now.”
“Unless the poison requires an antidote,” I lied grimly. “Then you will need me.”
She stared at me. She raised the pistol shakily.
I stepped forward and snatched the gun from her grip. Her hands clawed for my throat. I dropped both weapons and grabbed her thin wrists. I pinned her tiny form on the bunk with my weight.
“When you wake.” I leaned harder on her struggling form. “Thank your lucky stars that I am a better woman than you.”
“Lucky,” she slurred. She gave a small laugh and fought until her eyes rolled back.<
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I did not move for several long minutes. Then I slid to one side and checked her pulse. Steady, but slow. She slept.
“Come, Anton.”
I stood and he leaped into my arms, knocking us backward against the wall. “I knew you’d come. I knew it.”
My eyes were wet when I tousled his smooth blond hair. “Always.”
While he dressed, I pushed the cart outside for Dieter to collect. We gathered our belongings. I insisted that he bring the suitcase of clothing she had purchased him. Leaving it might arouse suspicion.
I arranged her ivory wedding dress next to the bed so it would be the first thing she saw when she awoke. She would know instantly what she had lost. And what I had won.
On top of the bodice I placed the receipt for the forms I filed with Frau Doppelgänger. She would need it to claim her son’s body. I had Anton, and I had given her everything I had promised. Unlike her, I kept my word. We would step off the zeppelin in Switzerland, a little over a week late. By the time she woke, she would be far over the Atlantic Ocean, and alone.
The zeppelin’s motors changed pitch and we raced down the corridor, hopefully for the last time.
We positioned ourselves at the end of the small line of passengers leaving in Switzerland. We were free again. Soon we would be reunited with Boris. I hoped. I tousled his hair, and he did not move my hand. Instead he tapped my arm and I ducked my head down to his.
“Will she be all right?” he whispered.
“In a few hours she will wake up, as well as ever,” I whispered back.
“But as angry as a wolverine stung by a bee.” His eyes smiled up at mine, and my stomach relaxed. I pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.
He hugged me back. “We are in Switzerland?”
I knew what he wanted. I opened my satchel and pulled out a sheet of paper and my jade-green fountain pen. He carefully printed his first name, then drew a feather. He folded an airplane, straight on the creases.
We stepped onto the well-lit Swiss airfield hand in hand.
Halfway between the zeppelin and the terminal, he dropped my hand and launched his white airplane into the night. His wrist snapped forward. The ring of bruises from the handcuffs had already begun to fade.
Glossary
Abitur. German equivalent of a high school diploma.
Alexanderplatz. Central police station for Berlin through World War II. Also called “The Alex.”
Bahnhof. Train station or subway station.
El Dorado. Gay bar in Berlin that was popular during the 1920s and early 1930s, closed by the Nazis, and reopened in the 1990s.
Ernst Röhm. Early member of the National Socialist Party and close friend to Adolf Hitler, often credited with being the man most responsible for bringing Hitler to power in the early days. Openly gay.
Der Führer. The leader. Term used to refer to Adolf Hitler, leader of the National Socialist Party.
Hall of the Unnamed Dead. Hall in the Alexanderplatz police station that showed framed photographs of unidentified bodies found by the police.
Heinrich Himmler. Head of the Schutzstaffel. He eventually oversaw all police and security forces, including the Gestapo, concentration camps, and extermination camps. He was named the greatest mass murderer of all time by Der Spiegel magazine.
Hotel Adlon. Expensive hotel in Berlin, built in 1907. It quickly became known for its vast wine cellars and well-heeled clientele. On May 2, 1945, the main building was burned to the ground, either accidentally or on purpose, by Russian soldiers. The East German government opened a surviving wing as a hotel, but it was demolished in 1961 to create the no-man’s-land around the Berlin Wall. A new Hotel Adlon was rebuilt on the original location and opened on August 23, 1997.
Il Duce. The leader. Term used to refer to Benito Mussolini, leader of the Italian fascist party and later prime minister of fascist Italy.
Kaiser. Leader of Germany before the founding of the Weimar Republic. After World War I, the last kaiser, Wilhelm II, abdicated his throne and fled to the Netherlands.
Kinder, Küche, Kirche (children, kitchen, church). Policy of the Nazi party on where women belonged.
Kommissar. Rank in the police department similar to a lieutenant.
Munich Post (Münchener Post). Newspaper in Bavaria that was very critical of the National Socialist Party until it was taken over in 1933.
National Political Institute for Education (Potsdam). Boarding schools set up by the Nazis. Many students were used as child soldiers and died during the last months of the war.
National Socialist German Workers Party (Nazi party). Party led by Adolf Hitler that eventually assumed control of Germany.
Night of the Long Knives. The Nazi purge that took place between June 30 and July 2, 1934. Although most victims, including Ernst Röhm, were members of the Sturmabteilung, many other political enemies of Hitler were also executed. The exact death toll is unknown.
Paragraph 175. Paragraph of the German penal code that made homosexuality a crime. Paragraph 175 was in place from 1871 to 1994. Under the Nazis, people convicted of Paragraph 175 offenses, which did not need to include physical contact, were sent to concentration camps, where many died.
Pfennigs. Similar to pennies. There were one hundred pfennigs in a Reichsmark.
Reich List of Unwanted Persons. The precompiled list of political enemies to be executed during the purge.
Reichsmark. Currency used by Germany from 1924 to 1948. The previous currency, the Papiermark, became worthless in 1923 due to hyperinflation. On January 1, 1923, one American dollar was worth nine thousand Papiermarks. By November 1923 one American dollar was worth 4.2 trillion Papiermarks. Fortunes were wiped out overnight. In 1924 the currency was revalued and remained fairly stable until the Wall Street crash in the United States in 1929. When the novel takes place, one American dollar was worth 2.54 Reichsmarks.
Reichstag. Elected legislative assembly representing the people of Germany.
Schultheiss pilsner. Pale lager brewed at the Schultheiss factory in Berlin.
Schutzstaffel (SS or Blackshirts). Nazi paramilitary organization founded as an elite force to be used as Hitler’s personal bodyguards. Led by Heinrich Himmler.
Stadelheim Prison. Prison in Munich. Hitler, Röhm, and others were held there after their arrest for the Beer Hall Putsch in 1923. Röhm was executed there on July 2, 1934. In 1943, Sophie Scholl, Hans Scholl, and Christoph Probst were guillotined there for distributing anti-Nazi leaflets. The prison still exists today.
Sturmabteilung (SA, Brownshirts, or storm troopers). Nazi paramilitary organization that helped intimidate Hitler’s opponents. Led by Ernst Röhm.
Tempelhof Airport. Famous airport in Berlin, remodeled under the Nazis, used in World War II, and the central airport for the Berlin Airlift of 1948. It was shut down in 2008.
Theodor Eicke. Commander of the Death’s Head Division in the Waffen SS. He helped establish concentration camps in Nazi Germany. He either executed Röhm or witnessed the execution.
Zehlendorf. Wealthy borough in Berlin. Boris’s house is on Kronprinzen Avenue in this borough, later renamed to Clayallee to honor General Clay, the American general who ordered the Berlin Airlift in 1948.
Author’s Note
A Night of Long Knives is set in Germany in 1934, around the time of the Night of the Long Knives purge, when Hitler killed the leadership of the SA, including his old friend Ernst Röhm, and a long list of political enemies. Most characters in the book are fictional, and I took great liberties with those who weren’t.
Although I carefully researched the events leading up to Ernst Röhm’s death, I took artistic liberties to further the plot. As far as I know, he never fathered (or pretended to father) any children. Nor was he planning a wedding that weekend. Historical sources say that Röhm was murdered by Theodor Eicke and another SS officer as I described. Hans Frank did visit him in Stadelheim, where Röhm told him, “All revolutions devour their own children.”
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Little is known about his mother, Emilie Röhm, and nothing that she does in A Night of Long Knives actually occurred.
The executions at Stadelheim Prison and Lichterfelde Barracks are historically documented, although no one knows how many people were killed in those forty-eight hours. Estimates range from Hitler’s claim of sixty-one to seven thousand (Winston Churchill, in The Gathering Storm). At the trials in Munich in 1957 the number was set at more than one thousand. It’s unlikely that we will ever know the exact death toll, as all records were destroyed shortly after the purge under the orders of Göring and Himmler. The edict legalizing the purge I mention in the book was, of course, real.
Bella Fromm existed and wrote a detailed diary chronicling her time as a journalist in Berlin under the Nazis, Blood & Banquets: A Berlin Social Diary 1930–1938. I suspect Hannah will meet her again in a future book.
Sefton Delmer, likewise, was a real British journalist who befriended Ernst Röhm, who believed Delmer was a spy. Delmer was acquainted with Hitler, Goebbels, Göring, and other top Nazis, as documented in his witty autobiography, Trail Sinister. Later in the war, Sefton Delmer approached Ian Fleming (who worked for British Intelligence, but is more famous for creating James Bond and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang) and was hired to create black propaganda radio broadcasts into Germany, and later to German submarine crews, to damage morale. He had no known involvement with smuggling out information about the Night of the Long Knives, although he did publish a “purge list” of some of those executed and was given forty-eight hours to leave Germany on July 6, 1934 (mere days after Hannah sees him for the last time). Also, his friends called him “Tom” instead of “Sefton,” but I thought the name Sefton was more evocative so I used it instead.
For plot reasons, I changed the time line of the executions, and I could never determine where Hannah would have had to go to claim Röhm’s remains. I chose Lichterfelde because it seemed plausible and got her to Berlin. Also, I scheduled the Graf Zeppelin to stop in Zürich and Berlin, although that week it was scheduled to stop in Friedrichshafen, Germany.