Out of the Smoke Read online

  What Wolfie didn’t say was that he was here at the behest of the Bavarian Minister of the Interior, his boss. A lot of state governments were nervously watching events in Berlin to see how the results of the last election would affect them. Since Wolfie had direct access to one of the higher officials in the party, the Minister had personally asked him to find out what he could.

  “I haven’t been to Berlin,” Hans said wearily.

  “I know that,” he retorted, “but I also know that they keep you informed about what’s happening so you can share it with the party members.”

  Hans grunted something unintelligible because he couldn’t deny that. He sighed. “I’m just looking for a bite to eat and my bed. The train from Nuremberg was not an express, and I swear we stopped at every city, town, village, and hamlet on the way down. I hardly slept at all.”

  “Well, you’ll be happy to know that Emilee, Paula, Anna, and Rudi have taken all the children down to the branch meeting hall for some project to help the poor. They will be there until three or four this afternoon. Which means you can sleep until then.”

  “Ja. Emilee told me. What is it with these Mormons?” Hans grumped. “It’s not enough that they go to church for three or four hours on Sunday? Now it’s Saturdays too?”

  Wolfie chuckled. “I don’t have an answer for that. Come on. We’ll grab some breakfast, then you can go home to a quiet house and sleep until they get home. I’m buying.”

  10:05 a.m.—München Familie Restaurant, Old Town District

  Hans took the last bite of his stack of pancakes and washed it down with a glass of buttermilk. Setting the glass down, he leaned back and patted his stomach. “That’s the first decent food I’ve had in a week. Danke, Wolfie.”

  Wolfie murmured something in reply. He had decided not to interrupt his nephew while he was eating, and they had kept the conversation light. Now some food had obviously taken the edge off of Hans’s grumpiness. So Wolfie decided it was time. “I know you’re tired, Hans,” he began, “but can you give me a quick summary of what’s happening up north? The papers down here are full of rumors, but no one seems to know what’s really going on.”

  Hans nodded and frowned. “Well, it certainly isn’t going like Adolf expected. He figured being the largest political party in the Reichstag would put him in the driver’s seat. I think he just assumed that all he had to do was walk in, let them put the laureate of victory on his head, and he’d go to work.”

  “By laureate, you mean make him chancellor?”

  “Of course. He would eventually love to be president too, but with President Hindenburg in office, there’s no chance of that. He’s too beloved by the people.”

  “There are lots of rumors about Adolf forming various political coalitions. Any truth to them?”

  Hans shrugged. “He came close a couple of times. But with 608 seats in Parliament, we need 75 more seats to get a majority. So the only parties that have enough votes to give us that majority are the Social Democrats, the German Communist Party, and the German Nationalist Party, all of whom hate us with a passion—for different reasons. They are vigorously trying to form their own coalitions and take control themselves. The only real accomplishment we’ve been able to make is to get Hermann Goering elected as president of the Reichstag, which is no small thing.”

  “Yes, I saw that. That’s a big accomplishment.”

  Hans lifted his nearly empty glass and waggled it at a passing waitress with a pitcher of milk on her tray. He waited until she refilled his glass and then went on. “Anyway, shortly after our team arrived in Berlin after the elections, we received word that General Schleicher had agreed to support Adolf’s bid for a coalition government. That made it a shoo-in, or so they thought.”

  “Wait,” Wolfie said. “Schleicher? Not Chancellor von Papen? Why would Schleicher be the one to make an offer like that?”

  “Because everyone knows that Papen is nothing more than Schleicher’s puppet. As Commanding General of the Army, Schleicher wields a lot of influence. And Papen is nothing but a buffoon. Someone once called him a paper tiger, then immediately added, ‘but without the tiger.’ Even his closest friends were shocked when President Hindenburg appointed him chancellor. So Schleicher is the real power behind the throne right now.”

  “So what happened?”

  Hans furtively looked around and leaned in closer. “I wasn’t there, of course, but in my own personal opinion, Adolf was a bit too brash, too unrealistic in his expectations, too demanding considering that they were 75 seats short.” He grimaced. That was putting it mildly, though he would not say that to Wolfie. Hitler had been a cocky, over-confident fool who had alienated people at every turn. “So,” Hans went on, “when Schleicher approached us with a possible deal, Adolf immediately agreed. But he insisted that he be the new chancellor and control a majority of the cabinet seats, including being premier of Prussia. That’s always the plum because that’s where Berlin is and where the real power lies. In return, he would make General Schleicher Minister of the Army, which is the second most powerful office next to the chancellor. But this infuriated Schleicher.”

  “Because he wants to be chancellor?”

  “Of course. That why all of this maneuvering and manipulation of Papen. Oh, and Adolf made one more demand. He wanted an ‘enabling act’ from the Reichstag authorizing him to rule by presidential decree—meaning that he would rule independently of Parliament for an unspecified period of time.”

  Wolfie’s eyes widened. “That sounds like a request for full dictatorial powers.”

  “Exactly! Schleicher laughed in his face, of course. Not that he objects to the concept, but if there are any presidential decrees to be passed out, Schleicher wants those for himself.” Hans sighed. “And Schleicher made a good point, and I’m sure he pointed this out to President Hindenburg too. The Nazis did win the most votes in the election, but that was still less than forty percent of the popular vote. That’s hardly a mandate for a dictatorship.”

  “That surprises me,” Wolfie mused, choosing his words carefully. “As cunning as the Führer is politically, such a demand seems a little naive on his part.”

  Hans said nothing. He was suddenly very, very tired.

  “And what happens if they can’t form a new government?” Wolfie asked.

  “Don’t even think it,” Hans snapped. “If they can’t, Hindenburg could ask the chancellor to call for a new election.”

  “What? Again? When?”

  “Before the end of the year.” Hans swore softly. “And if they do, this time there won’t be any miracles. Mark my word, we’ll lose seats in Parliament this time, and not just one or two.”

  He shook his head and pushed his chair back. “No more of this. Take me home, Wolfie. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

  Wolfie took out his billfold and dropped a twenty-mark note on the table and then stood up. As they started for the door, Wolfie suddenly snapped his fingers. “When your family gets home this afternoon, be sure you have Emilee tell you what Lisa did yesterday over in the Englischer Garten.”

  “Ah, ja. Emilee told me on the phone last night.” Hans ­chuckled proudly. “That’s my Lisa. Feisty as a bulldog if something makes her mad.”

  “Be sure you have Lisa tell you the whole story. It’s incredible what she did.”

  5:20 p.m.—Near the Eckhardt Home

  “Do you think Papa is awake by now?” Jo asked her sister.

  Lisa shrugged. “Hope so. If he sleeps all day he’ll never sleep tonight.”

  “I hope so too. I’m so anxious to see him again.”

  Lisa nodded. Their Uncle Wolfie had stopped by where the branch members were doing their project and told their mother that their father was physically and mentally exhausted and needed to sleep as long as possible. So Hans Otto, little Enrika, and “Baby Nikolaus,” who was three now, went home with A
unt Anna and Uncle Rudi to play with their cousins. Under threat of a month’s worth of dishes if they made any noise, Jo and Lisa had tiptoed into the house, gotten Lisa’s new Fussball, and tiptoed out again. Then they set off for a neighborhood Fussball match going on over in the English Garden.

  As they came around the corner and onto their street, Alisa pulled up short. Jo went three more steps and then stopped too. She leaned forward, eyes half squinting. “Is that in front of our house?”

  “Yes,” Lisa said, moving up beside her. Their house was just three homes up from the corner, and there was a very large, very expensive-looking car parked in front of it. Lisa stopped bouncing the Fussball and tucked it under her arm as she peered more closely. The car was long and low-slung, with a black canvas top that was now folded down onto the luggage compartment. The main body of the automobile was a pale powder-blue with the fenders over both front and rear tires painted jet black. They could see that the wheels had chrome hubcaps.

  Lisa was staring at it in awe. “That’s a Maybach Zeppelin V12,” she said in awe.

  “How do you know what kind of car it is?” Jo scoffed.

  “Because I went with Vati when he went car shopping back in November. We stopped at the Maybach dealership and Papa looked at this very model.”

  Jo was impressed. “How much does it cost?”

  “About twice as much what our Mercedes-Benz did. That’s why we have a Mercedes.”

  Jo’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Do you think Papa bought us a new car while he was in Nuremberg?”

  “Nein. We’re not that rich.” Lisa turned back to the car again. “It’s probably for the Kettzelbachs across the street. I know they have some rich friends.” She looked down at her clothes and brushed at the dirt and grass. The Fussball game had been a hard-fought one, with boys and girls from all over the neighborhood on both teams. “If they are at our house, I’m sneaking in through the back. I smell like a goat.”

  “How do you know how a goat smells?” Jo asked said solemnly.

  Lisa rolled her eyes.

  “Ah, Lisa. You are so funny. You play Fussball like a boy, then worry about a few grass stains on your clothes.”

  Lisa held up her arms. “And my elbows, and my knees. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. What if it’s someone from the party here to see Papa?”

  Grabbing her sister’s arm, Jo tugged Lisa forward. “Now who’s being silly? You know that party cars are always black. Come on. Whoever it is, they are not here for us.”

  Two minutes later as they reached the front steps, Lisa stopped and groaned softly. “Grandma’s window,” as she now referred to the window closest to the front door, was open, and through it they could hear voices from inside the house. Adult voices. She turned quickly and lowered her voice. “They are here. Come on,” she whispered. “We’ll sneak in the back.”

  But she hadn’t gone three steps when the front door opened and her father stepped out onto the porch. “Ah, gut, gut! There you are. I was about to come looking for you.” He motioned for them to join him. “Come, girls, we have company. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Lisa pointed frantically to herself, shaking her head vigorously and making motions indicating that they would go around back. But her father would have none of that. He inclined his head toward Grandma’s window and snapped his fingers. “We heard you coming. They are waiting to meet you both. Come, now.”

  The girls exchanged looks and then surrendered and turned back. As they did so, their father stepped forward and scooped them into his arms. “What? Don’t I get so much as a guten Tag after being gone for three days?”

  They hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek. Then Lisa leaned in and whispered, “Who is it, Vati? Someone from the party?”

  Hans chuckled. “Not quite. Come and see.”

  When they entered the living room, six people got to their feet to greet them—their mother, their grandmother, a man and a woman Lisa had never seen before, and—her jaw dropped as she gasped. And the two sisters she had saved yesterday in the park!

  September 30, 1932, 5:24 p.m.—Eckhardt Home

  “Alisa, Jolanda,” their father said, pushing them forward, unaware of how stiff Lisa had gone. Jolanda didn’t hesitate, for she had seen the two girls only from a distance and didn’t recognize them now. But Lisa was rigid with shock, so her father pushed a little harder, moving them forward to stand before the smiling couple. “Lisa and Jo, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Zeidner family. This is Herr Doktor Alemann Zeidner.”

  The man, who looked to be a few years older than their father, was already standing at formal attention. He clicked his heels together and inclined his head slightly as he smiled warmly. “How do you do, Fräuleins?”

  Hans continued. “And this Frau Richelle Zeidner. Herr Doktor and Frau Zeidner, these are our two daughters, Alisa, who is our oldest, and Jolanda, who is our second born. We call them Lisa and Jo.”

  Frau Zeidner stepped forward, her hand extended, a warm smile wreathing her face. “How delightful to meet you.” Her voice was rich and warm, and very cultured. She faced Alisa first, who had stuck out her hand awkwardly. Frau Zeidner brushed it aside and laid both hands on Lisa’s shoulders and then leaned forward and pressed her cheek first against one of Lisa’s cheeks and then the other, in the manner of the French. “Alisa, it is a special honor to meet you.”

  Alisa caught a momentary whiff of lilac and jasmine, but it was so delicate it almost was not there. Lisa couldn’t help but stare at her. To say that Frau Zeidner was dazzling was an understatement. Her perfume. Her demeanor. Her jewelry. The way she pronounced her words. Everything about her was pure class, pure elegance. She wore a very expensive, powder-blue dress that came to her knees. A pearl choker was around her neck and she wore matching pearl earrings.

  And then another thought hit Alisa. The blue dress almost perfectly matched the color of the car out at the curb. She had to suppress a giggle as the thought struck her. Had they bought the dress to match the car, or the car to match the dress? But any humor quickly vanished as she remembered her own stained clothing, her tangle of hair that was still damp with perspiration, and her body odor. She wanted to vanish in a puff of smoke.

  Frau Zeidner took one step to the side and extended her hand to Jolanda. “And to meet you as well, Jolanda.”

  Jo curtsied and murmured, “The pleasure is ours, Frau Zeidner.”

  The woman shook her head as she turned back to Lisa. “Please, call me Richelle. And may I call you Lisa?” Then she looked at Jolanda. “And Jo?”

  “Of course,” they both said at the same time.

  Doctor Zeidner watched this with a smile and then turned and motioned for his two daughters to come forward. “Lisa and Jo, I am very pleased to introduce you to our two lovely daughters.” He smiled at Lisa. “Though we understand they met Lisa already. This is Erika, our oldest, and Leyna, our youngest.”

  Erika had glanced up at them when Lisa and Jo had first entered the room, but now she seemed to be studiously examining the patterns in the Oriental rug that covered the center of the living room floor. Her face was a flaming red. The younger girl was smiling shyly at them. Erika looked up and nervously extended her hand. “I am very pleased to . . . uh . . . formally meet you, Lisa.” She shook hands quickly with Lisa and then with Jo. Leyna stepped forward and greeted them both politely, but with genuine pleasure. Then they both stepped back again.

  Lisa was confounded with two thoughts that came at once. The girls were beautiful. Not just cute, not just pretty, but truly beautiful. Both had their mother’s features, which were like fine porcelain, with large, dark eyes, jet-black eyebrows, and long, straight, shoulder-­length hair. The girls could have been twins had it not been for the obvious difference in their ages. And their matching dresses had the same elegance as the one their mother wore, though one was peach in color, the oth
er a soft yellow. Unlike their mother, however, neither wore any jewelry or lipstick.

  Those were all fleeting thoughts racing through Lisa’s head. What dominated her thoughts, however, was how she must look to them. And smell! She still felt sweat prickling in her scalp and under her arms. She wanted to curl up in a ball and roll away.

  “I think Erika is about your age, Lisa,” Frau Zeidner was saying. “She is thirteen but will be fourteen next month.”

  “Um . . . I will be thirteen in November.”

  “Ah,” said Erika’s father, “so just a year apart.” He looked at his youngest. “Leyna turned ten in March.”

  “And Jolanda turned ten in February,” Emilee said with a smile. “So just a month apart.”

  Jo and Leyna smiled at each other. Lisa’s father started to tell the Zeidners about their youngest children, who were not yet home. Lisa took that opportunity to pull her mother aside so their backs were to the others. She leaned in close. “Mutti, look at me!” she whispered. “Please. Let me go bathe. I’ll hurry.”

  Emilee looked her up and down quickly but then smiled and turned back to the Zeidners as if Lisa hadn’t spoken to her. “My sister-in-law has the younger children at her house. They should be home soon. We would love for you to meet them.”

  The Zeidners looked at each other and smiled. Emilee hurried on. “I have a pot roast in the oven and some fresh cherry strudel for dessert. We would be honored if you could stay for dinner. Then we can talk as long as you wish.”

  Surprised, the couple looked at each other. Erika’s face lit up, and she stepped forward and whispered in her mother’s ear, but it was loud enough for all to hear. “Yes, Mother. Please!” Leyna was nodding vigorously too.

  “I. . . .” Richelle began. “Uh . . . we don’t wish to impose.”

  Hans jumped in. “Do you have other plans? I think it is going to take some time to hear both sides of what happened yesterday. I know I am anxious to hear it from your daughters’ perspective. We would be delighted if you would stay and eat with us.”