by Ward Wagher
He remembered one of his university professors going off topic and talking about common sense. He explained it as a basic attitude where the individual was constantly gaming decisions and alternatives. So when a true dilemma cropped up, it was more likely the individual would have gamed the solution ahead of time. The people who acted quickly and with dispatch during crises were not necessarily better thinkers, the professor had said, but rather they were the ones who had probably gamed the scenario ahead of time.
Schloss wasn't sure the professor's theory held water, but it was something he had tried to practice and it seemed to work for him. More amazing, to him though, were the blank looks on the part of the other students in the class. Maybe people really were sheep. In fact, his understanding of history tended to confirm this.
It was a pleasant summer day when Schloss left the party headquarters to walk to his usual restaurant for lunch. He had grown tired of having lunch brought into the office. It was nice to get outside, plus, it seemed, he could gauge the mood of the people. And they seemed upbeat. As usual he was accompanied by six party security people – whom he thought of as his guard dogs. It felt pretentious to him, but there had been no further attempts on his life. He was beginning to wonder if the shooting and the bomb were isolated incidents.
The restaurant keeper's daughters, Heidi and Ilsa, took turns serving the lunch traffic. Today it was Ilsa. Schloss ordered Bratwurst and fried potatoes. He motioned Rainer to the table.
“Eat with me, Karl.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
Schloss was aware it made Rainer uncomfortable, but he hated eating alone. And he especially hated eating under the watchful eyes of his guard dogs, who he was sure were wishing they could eat. And the food here was very good.
He mentally rehearsed his answers to the possible questions he would encounter in the afternoon meeting as he worked through his lunch. He was amused to realize he was gaming the meeting exactly as his professor fifteen years in the future had suggested. Perhaps the old boy was correct.
His musings relaxed him, and he briefly forgot he was in an entirely different world from where he attended university. If he could ignore his guards, the little restaurant was pleasant. The owners knew him, and catered to his preferences. They always seated him in the back dining area and made certain no other diners were in the room. In turn he tipped them generously.
But the interlude halted abruptly when he bit down on a piece of bone. He felt one of his teeth give way, and a spike of incredible pain jabbed him in the jaw. He spat the mouthful of food into his napkin and looked down to see the piece of bone, and a significant part of a tooth.
“Ilsa!” he shouted.
The girl hurried into the room, her blonde hair floating behind her. “What is it, Herr Partieleiter?”
“There was a bone in the sausage and I have broken a tooth.”
She turned pale. “I will get Poppa.”
Hans Isengast hurried into the room. “Herr Partieleiter, I do not know how this could happen. I buy only the very best for your table. I am so sorry.”
Schloss glared at the middle-aged man who was wringing his hands in his apron. Finally, he shook his head.
“Oh relax, Hans. I know it wasn't your fault. I'm just angry at the circumstances.” He looked over at the shocked Rainer. “Go ahead and eat, Karl. You have a long afternoon ahead of you. After the meeting you are going to have to get me to the dentist.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter,” Rainer said as he looked suspiciously at his bratwurst.
The owner swept both plates off the table. “I will get you a fresh brat from a different batch, Herr Rainer. And you, Herr Partieleiter, might I get you some potato soup? You need to eat.”
Schloss raised both palms, but said nothing as Isengast moved quickly back to the kitchen.
“Are you all right, Herr Partieleiter?” Rainer asked.
“No Karl, I am not. That broken tooth hurts about as bad as if Himmler were pulling it out with pliers. It is not going to help the meeting this afternoon.”
“I will call your dentist immediately. I am sure he can get you in this afternoon.”
There are some perquisites to being a Nazi bigwig, he thought. At least I can get just about any kind of service I need almost instantly. “Mein Gott this hurts!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
July 29, 1941; 3:40PM
Landsberger Allee, Berlin
“We will be there soon, Herr Partieleiter,” Rainer said.
Schloss said nothing, but remained bent over in the car and braced his hand against his jaw.
“At least the others were not disposed to argue about the meeting in Lisbon,” Rainer continued. “I am surprised Ribbentrop agreed to stay home.”
Schloss shook his head. “Just get me to the dentist, Rainer.”
He had no idea where the dentist's office was.
“I am surprised you so quickly agreed to see the dentist,” Rainer continued. “That is unlike you. When you had that impacted tooth two years ago Hannelore and I nearly had to drag you there.”
Carefull Schloss, he thought, you're not thinking straight. “You're right, Karl. Just take me home.”
Rainer looked over at the suffering party leader and shook his head with a smile. “Herr Doctor Kranz will put you right. Don't worry.”
“That's exactly what I'm worried about. He'll gas me and then take a pick ax to my mouth.”
“Nonsense, Herr Partieleiter. The dentist restricts himself to the use of a hammer.”
Schloss's broken tooth chose that moment to send a spike of agony through his jaw. He bent over again with a groan. He decided he had never had anything hurt so badly.
Come on, Hennie, don't be such a baby. Grown men don't act this way – especially not senior Nazis.
Rainer pulled the Opel over to the curb and switched off the engine. He got out and walked around to the other side to open the door.
“Come on, Herr Partieleiter. We will soon have you out of your misery.”
“That's what I'm afraid of,” he muttered as he climbed out of the car. Rainer chuckled.
Apparently Rainer expects me to act like a child, given the circumstances, Schloss thought. It is less difficult than I thought it would be not to disappoint him.
The dentist was waiting in his lobby when Schloss arrived. Schloss was unable to observe any of the details of the office through his haze of pain.
“Ah Herr Schloss, so good of you to drop in this afternoon.”
He looked up at the portly dentist whom he thought resembled Sigmund Freud. “I had a thought, Dr. Kranz, why not drop everything and come visit you this afternoon?”
The dentist had a booming laugh. “So Herr Rainer told me. I cleared my appointment calendar for this afternoon. The last time your condition forced a visit you and I were occupied for a major part of the day.”
“That's what I am afraid of,” Schloss said.
Kranz put his arm around Schloss's back and began guiding him to a doorway. “Come, there is no sense delaying the inevitable.”
Schloss allowed himself to be propelled into the dentist's examination room and into the chair. He decided it resembled a medieval torture instrument.
“I must say I am delighted you have reduced the English bombing raids,” Kranz chattered on. “My nights are much more peaceful. Of course, that was just a terrible business about the Fuhrer. Terrible.”
He slid a tray of dentistry tools over next to his wheeled stool, and then swung a light around. “I trust you are doing well after your unfortunate spring.”
What is he talking... oh yes, Hannelore.
“One does what one must,” Schloss replied.
Kranz dropped into the chair and pulled the light in close. “Very well, Herr Schloss, let's have a look.”
Schloss opened his mouth and was thankful for not having to respond to the voluble man. Kranz peered at Schloss's teeth, and the one-sided conversation stopped. Schloss had closed
his eyes to the stab of pain that occurred when the cool air in the office reached the broken tooth. He opened them again to see a look of confusion on the dentist's face.
Kranz spun around on his chair and picked up a folder. He opened it and began paging through Schloss's dental records.
Uh oh, Schloss thought, he worked on the Alter-Schloss before. I wonder what's different.
“That is passing strange,” Kranz muttered.
“What is it, Herr Doctor?” Schloss asked.
“This tooth you have broken... it is the same one I worked on two years ago.”
Schloss glanced over at Rainer, who stood with his back to the door. “Well, Herr Doctor, I do not think it unusual for a tooth to give repeated problems. I would not consider that your fault.”
“No,” he said. “No, that is not what I meant. When you were here two years ago, the tooth was so damaged I had to remove it. I am sure of it. In fact, my records show that.”
I would never have thought I would be caught out by something like this, Schloss thought. “Perhaps your records are in error. I do not mean to insult you, Herr Doctor Kranz, but how could something like this happen?” If nothing else, maybe I can play head games with him.
Kranz looked back and forth between between Schloss and the dental records. Finally, he heaved a great sigh. “Very well. Let me take another look, Herr Schloss. However, that tooth happened to be there, it will probably have to come out.”
After dosing Schloss with gas and knocking him out, Kranz looked at Rainer. “I really do not understand this, Herr Rainer. You remember when you brought him the last time?”
“I remember,” Rainer said. “I wasn't quite sure what you were saying, though.”
“I pulled the tooth the last time. It should not be there.”
“Could it have grown back?”
“I have heard of wisdom teeth growing back, but not molars.” He grimaced. “But let me get busy. The poor man has suffered enough from this.”
Rainer stood watch over his boss as the dentist worked. It was hard to listen to the odd crunching sounds as Kranz worked to extract the tooth. When he had finished at last, he took the time to study Schloss's teeth.
“Has Herr Schloss been to another dentist, Herr Rainer?” Kranz asked suddenly.
“I do not think so, Herr Doctor. Why do you ask?”
“He has had some other dental work since I last saw him. I do wish he would had come by again so I could update his records.”
Rainer grinned. “You know he would not be here unless he was at death's door.”
“There is that,” Kranz grunted. “Some of the bravest men turn into abject cowards when a visit to the dentist comes up.”
“And for good reason,” Rainer said with a laugh.
“And that reminds me; you have not been here for a checkup, either.”
Rainer paled. “I... I will get to it at my earliest opportunity, Herr Doctor Kranz,” he stammered.
“We can take care of that with my secretary before you leave.”
“I... I will need to check with the schedule at the office before I can make an appointment. I assure you I will telephone you,” Rainer stammered.
Kranz gave the man an evil smile. “I will have my secretary call your office, Herr Rainer. It will be no problem at all.” He turned to look at Schloss. “And I see our patient is waking up.”
He turned back to Rainer. “You can get him home? Instruct him to have only soup or soft foods tonight. I will need to see him back here in a week to remove the stitches.”
He whipped the apron off of Schloss. “Very well, Herr Schloss, you have survived another trip to my torture chamber.”
Schloss looked around blearily. “Will Trudy take me home?”
Kranz looked over at Rainer. “Who is Trudy?”
Rainer shrugged. “He is not quite awake, I suppose.”
“That must be it. Come, Herr Schloss, let's get you out of the chair.”
The two men wrestled Schloss to his feet and walked him to the outer lobby. The guard waiting there immediately came over to take the dentist's place to keep Schloss upright.
“We will send you an invoice for the services,” Kranz said.
“You have my insurance card,” Schloss muttered.
“What did he say?” Kranz said.
“Something about an insurance card,” Rainer said. “I do not know what that means.”
“It's probably just the gas,” Kranz said. “People sometimes say strange things when they are coming out of it.”
“That must be it,” Rainer said.
Rainer and the guard eased Schloss into the back seat of the Opel, and Rainer climbed in the other side, letting the guard drive. Schloss slumped against the door and stared straight ahead. His vision alternately doubled and came back.
“Well, we got that taken care of, Herr Partieleiter.”
“Hope my mouth stops hurting before I get back to teaching,” Schloss said, his voice slurring.
“We will get you home soon,” Rainer said.
As they rode along the streets of Berlin, Rainer looked at the party leader strangely. He fervently hoped it was the gas that was making Schloss talk nonsense. If the Partieleiter became unhinged, they would all die.
Rainer’s sister had visited recently and he had explained to her that Schloss was the thread that held the survival of the Fatherland. And it was a thin thread indeed. Anything that threatened Schloss was the immediate focus of his attention. And he was terrified that something would happen that was beyond his control.
He had been driven to confess his fears to Frau Marsden. The old woman had placed her hand on his arm.
“You must take courage, Herr Rainer,” she said. “This is but the first of the storms that will sweep over Herr Schloss in the coming years. We will see to it that he not only survives, but is successful.”
# # #
July 30, 1941; 10AM
Nazi Party Headquarters, Berlin
Rainer set a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on Schloss's desk. “Here you go, Herr Partieleiter. The dentist said you would probably have some discomfort for a few days.”
“May his soul rot in Hell,” Schloss muttered as he shook a couple of tablets out of the aspirin bottle.
“It is better than the toothache, is it not?”
“Everything is relative, Karl. So don't push it.”
“No one would blame you for taking a day to get over the worst of this, Herr Partieleiter.”
“It is a choice of sitting at home with a sore mouth or coming to work with one. I might as well get some work done.”
Where he can torment the rest of us, Rainer thought.
“I know what you're thinking, Karl.”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.” Rainer decided it wasn't worth debating. Schloss had been in a terrible mood since he arrived at the office.
“Tell me the plans for the trip to Lisbon,” Schloss commanded.
“At this time,” Rainer said, “it looks like sometime between 15 August and 21 August. The Americans are trying to arrange a flight into Lisbon.”
“We can reserve the Condor during that time?”
“Of course, Herr Partieleiter.”
Schloss looked down at his notes. “Peter is going to have to carry water for me on this trip. Do we know who the Americans will be sending?”
“Just that it will be an under-secretary,” Rainer replied. “The schedule works well for you, mein Herr, this will give you the opportunity to have the stitches in your mouth removed.”
“I believe I will pull them out myself before I go to that quack's office again.”
“Oh, Herr Doctor Kranz assured me that removing the stitches is quite painless.”
“For you, maybe, Karl. But not for me.”
Rainer just nodded. He remembered having this argument with Schloss two years previously.
Schloss shook his head. “Nevertheless, I must schedule another trip to Munich before I go to Lisbo
n.”
Rainer paged through his notebook and then looked knowingly at Schloss. “I will get something scheduled, Herr Partieleiter.”
“Thank you, Karl. And I apologize for being out of sorts. This tooth problem was just inconvenient.”
“I understand, Herr Partieleiter. Everyone here at the office is making due allowance.”
Schloss glared at the other man through lidded eyes. “I am told, Herr Rainer, that being detained by the Gestapo is an unpleasant experience.”
“And rightfully so, Mein Herr,” Rainer quickly replied.
The little imp is purposely misunderstanding me, Rainer thought. Although, on second thought, that really was not very funny.
Schloss tapped his pencil on the pad for a few moments before he spoke again. “Did Goering confirm moving the U-Boats to the Mediterranean?”
“He has not. I will check with his office.”
“Very well, I believe I would also like to visit the U-Boat works before we go to Lisbon. Can you work that out?”
“Yes, Herr Partieleiter.”
“What else do we have today?”
“Herr Doctor Engineer Heisenberg has an appointment with you.”
“Who... oh, the atomic scientist.”
Rainer nodded. “That is correct. He wishes to give you a status report.”
“And I very much want a status report. Perhaps when we finish with him, I will go home.”
Rainer stared at Schloss.
“Yes, Karl, it really is that bad.”
“Of course, Herr Partielieter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
August 13, 1941 8 AM
Berlin Tempelhof Airport
The ground crew were busy as they worked around where the Focke-Wulf Condor crouched on the tarmac at Berlin Tempelhof. The transport had arrived in the early hours of the morning and had been prepared for the trip to Lisbon. The Immelmann III was originally Hitler's personal transport and was undergoing maintenance the day he crashed in the JU-52, which was the alternate plane. The Condor first flew in 1937 and served as both an airliner and patrol bomber.
