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« on: May 11, 2023, 12:00:38 pm » |
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HAMBLEDON pursued his investigations into the matter of Ginsberg, and found that the practice of allowing Jews to take about twenty per cent of their movable cash over the frontier in exchange for the other eighty per cent was not merely a local custom at Aachen, but a full-sized racket at every exit from Germany. His determination to break down the practice hardened; though he had just as much loathing as any German for the foul type of Jew who had battened on the miseries of Germany in the bad years, his sense of justice revolted at making helpless and harmless people suffer for the sins of the rich and powerful. Besides, it was to safeguard these robbers and racketeers that Ginsberg had died, and they should pay for it. Besides again, it was against the law, and it was his business to see the law was obeyed. Finally, it would annoy the Nazis, and he was coming increasingly to dislike the Nazis. The exercise of power is a touch-stone to character, and by that test there was very little pure gold in the Nazi Party. “A lousy lot, when you get to know ’em,” said Tommy vulgarly to himself.
“The only thing that puzzles me,” he said to one man he was interrogating, “is why they are allowed to get away with twenty per cent. It’s quite a lot, twenty per cent. It’s one-fifth.”
“Quite right, Herr Polizei Oberhaupt, it’s too much. But if we charge more they won’t give any at all. They just die and the money vanishes.”
“So you think half a loaf is better than no bread.”
“Four-fifths of the loaf,” said the man with a grin.
The further Hambledon traced the threads of this organization the higher in rank were the Nazi officials whom he found to be involved, till he began to wonder who really was at the top or whether he had better cease his inquiries before he found out more than was good for him.
He came home to the flat one evening and was horrified to find Ludmilla Rademeyer in floods of tears, the maid Agathe hovering round with handkerchiefs, smelling-salts and cushions, and Franz walking distractedly about with a glass of brandy in one hand and a hot-water bottle in the other.
“Aunt Ludmilla, for heaven’s sake what is it? Have you had an accident? Agathe, out of my way and don’t drop things all over the floor. My dear, what is it? Franz, give me that brandy and put the hot-water bottle under the Fräulein’s feet. Drink this and for pity’s sake don’t upset yourself like this, tell me about it.”
“Christine,” said the old lady, and sobbed afresh.
“Has there been bad news?” asked Hambledon of Franz.
“Evidently, sir, but we have no idea what it is. The gracious Fräulein had a letter brought by hand----”
Ludmilla pulled herself together with an effort and clung to Hambledon’s hand. “Send them away,” she whispered, and the servants left the room. Ludmilla produced a crumpled letter from one of her numerous pockets and gave it to Hambledon.
“ ‘Ludmilla, my old friend,’ ” he read, “ ‘my husband was taken away this morning by S.S. men who came to the house and said they were taking him to a concentration camp because he was a Jew.’ Is that true?” he asked.
“His mother,” said Ludmilla unsteadily, “came of a Jewish family, but nobody thought any the worse of her for that, a nice fat old thing, endlessly kind. She was a Christian, and one can’t help how one is born.”
Hambledon went on reading. “ ‘I was made to give up all our papers and all our money except twenty marks. I gave them everything they asked, I thought if I was patient they would let Ludovic go, but they took him away. Then the men who remained said our house was too good for a Jew’s wife, and they turned me out in the street and locked the door.’ ”
Hambledon paused in his reading and stared before him, hammering with one clenched hand upon his knee, while Ludmilla looked in amazement at the beloved face so lit with fury that she could hardly recognize it. He continued after a moment.
“ ‘I thought I had better go to my son Hugo for advice, so I walked to Albrecht Strasse----’ ”
“All that way, and she so lame!”
“ ‘---only to find’---I cannot read this, her writing is suddenly so bad---‘my daughter-in-law Magda coming to me with the children, because they have taken my son also, they have taken my son also, and the children were crying----’ There is a piece here I can’t read, something about Gottlieb’s horse?”
“Gottlieb is the baby, he had a toy horse on wheels----”
“I see. She goes on, ‘They were also turned into the street, and when Magda said she did not know what to do, one of the men made a suggestion I will not repeat’---God blast them!” said Tommy Hambledon, and Ludmilla said, “Amen.” “ ‘So we got on a tram and went to old Marthe, who you will remember was my children’s nurse when they were little; it is a tiny house, we meant to leave the children there but she would not let us go since they have taken my son also. Magda will find some work to do even if it is only scrubbing, but I am so helpless I can only mind the children and do a little sewing if our friends have any work to give out. Do not come to see me, it might not be safe for you to be seen with us. Marthe’s son will take this note, I do not trust post or telephone. I would not mind for myself but Ludovic is in need of care at his age, and there is Hugo and the children. Magda is so brave, but if they had to punish Ludovic and me I do not think they need have taken my son also.’ ”
Hambledon’s voice ceased and there was silence for a space till Ludmilla said, “No doubt I am too old and stupid to understand, and these people are your friends, my dear, but, oh, Klaus, this is wicked! Dear Christine, who never did anything but kindness in all her life! I would not turn out a dog on the streets like that. What will they do? Klaus, this is a vile thing. I can’t admire people who are so cruel. I don’t like our present leaders, Klaus, I don’t like a lot of things that have happened lately. I hate these loud-voiced bullying young men who swagger everywhere and order people about, the old Germany wasn’t like this. I don’t trust your Nazi Party, Klaus. I’ve never said so before because they are your friends----”
“No, they are not!” said Hambledon furiously. “I have acted a part to you long enough, but this is the last straw. The Nazis are a set of lying, cheating bullies, out for what they can get for themselves, with neither honesty nor conscience. They did a great work for Germany to start with and I helped them, but now they are a scourge to Europe and a blot on humanity. I was on their side once, but now if I can pull down this foul regime in blood, God helping me, I’ll do it!”
“Klaus, I am so glad. It’s been such a grief to me to have you hand in glove with those dreadful people----”
“It’ll be more of a grief to them before I’ve finished, don’t you worry!”
“Klaus dear, be careful! One hears such dreadful stories, one hopes they are not true, but----”
“I hope that whatever you have heard has been an understatement,” said Hambledon grimly.
The old lady sighed. “Yet they are Germans who carry out these dreadful orders, how can they? Why don’t they refuse? Germans used to be such nice people before all this happened---except the Prussians, of course, no one ever liked the Prussians---but now they’re all Prussianized, I think. I don’t like Germany any more, Klaus, I would rather go and live somewhere else. I think I’d like to live in England, Klaus.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I knew an Englishman once, when I was very young. He was at Heidelberg University with my brother, who brought him home once or twice---to the white house at Haspe, Klaus, where you came to me. He used to tell me about England, I thought then I would like to go there some day.”
“What was he doing over here?”
“Oh, studying things, and learning the language. He was going to be a schoolmaster, my family thought that was funny because people in our class wouldn’t be schoolmasters in those days.”
“Unless they were in reduced circumstances, like us in Dusseldorf.”
“Ah, that was different. My brother used to make great fun of him, saying he would spend the rest of his life teaching little boys their A B C and making them blow their noses properly. But nothing Georg said made any difference to the Englishman, he said that it was a great and noble task to train the minds of future citizens.”
“Are you sure he said ‘great and noble’?”
“Of course not. He said ‘vitally important, really,’ but that was what he meant. He said that not only would he do that himself, but if he had a son he hoped he’d do the same. It is only my fancy, I know, but you seem to me to have a look of him sometimes, Klaus.”
“Oh, oh,” said Klaus, “and I thought you loved me for myself alone! Now I realize I’m only a relic----”
“Klaus!”
“Only a faded rose. No, a bit of dried seaweed----”
“Klaus, I shall throw my knitting at you in a minute. Oh, how heartless we are to laugh like this, think of Christine.”
“It won’t help Frau Christine if you make yourself ill fretting over her. Tell me, what became of this Englishman?”
“He never came back. We heard that he became a schoolmaster and also a minister of the Church, but he wouldn’t be both, surely?”
Hambledon’s mind went back to the country Rectory where he was born, a white house not unlike that at Haspe, with a garden full of roses, striped carnations, and hollyhocks high in the air above his head. There were bumble bees in the hollyhocks as a rule; he had an idea bumble bees didn’t sting till one day he found he was wrong. His father had been a schoolmaster in his younger days and insisted that his son should be one too, rather against Tommy’s own wishes, but there was no arguing with the autocratic old man. “It is a great profession, not appreciated as it should be,” he said. “Judges defend the law and punish law-breakers, doctors heal the sick and repair the damages of life, but the schoolmaster builds up the body and the character beforehand for the battle, mens sana in corpore sano, my boy.” Tommy remembered wriggling slightly on this and similar occasions, thinking that sermons should be confined to Sundays and not loosed forth between times, but a schoolmaster he became to start with, though he turned his attention to other things afterwards. “And now I’m a policeman,” he thought. “Wonder if the old man approves?” He returned from his reverie to answer Ludmilla.
“Oh, yes, easily, quite a lot of schoolmasters are in Holy Orders, as they call it, in England, sometimes in later life they give up teaching and have a parish instead.”
“I see. You do know a good deal about England, don’t you, Klaus?”
“Oh, I meet lots of English people, especially at the British Embassy, they do like talking about themselves, you know.”
“I think most people do, except you, Klaus.”
“About Frau Christine,” said Hambledon, to change the subject, “try not to worry, I will see what can be done about it. Doubtless something will present itself.”
Reck had said that he was going teetotal, and to Hambledon’s amused surprise he kept his word. For some weeks life was a misery to him and he was a trial to everyone else, but after the transition period was over he discovered, with assumed disgust, that he was clearer in mind and stronger in body than he had been for many years.
“You used to be an Awful Example,” said Hambledon. “Stern but loving fathers used to point you out to their sons and say, ‘Look! Niersteiner and bock, Moselle and Rhine wines, gin and schnapps----’ ”
“Shut up,” said Reck.
“ ‘Methylated spirit and eau-de-Cologne----’ ”
“I never did!”
“ ‘---are milestones on the road leading to old Reck.’ But now, what a difference! You are no longer a warning, you are a Moral Lesson, you are an Uplifting Influence. In a word, you’re a Tract.”
“You’re a fool,” growled Reck.
“Not at all, I am an appreciative audience. You rise early, you sing in your bath, you do physical jerks---yes, you do, you didn’t buy those dumbbells to throw at cats---you look thirty years younger, and now I learn that you even go for walks before breakfast.”
“Well, why not? I like the streets to myself, not full of loitering idlers staring in shop-windows.”
“No, seriously, Reck, I didn’t think you’d do it, and by heck I admire you. I mean that.”
Reck actually coloured with pleasure, but all he said was, “I said I’d do it and I have. Of course, one does feel fitter, but all this early waking is a frightful bore.”
“Try writing poetry,” said Tommy helpfully.
One morning, a few days after Frau Christine’s letter had arrived, Reck returned from his walk shortly before eight and saw to his surprise that a poster had been attached to the front door with drawing-pins. He read it with growing astonishment, glanced round him to see if anyone were watching him, tore it down and ran up the three flights of stairs to Hambledon’s flat, not waiting for the lift. He burst into Hambledon’s room and said, “What do you say to this?”
“Thank God for safety razors,” said Hambledon, who was shaving. “What is it, free worms for early birds?”
“The German Freedom League,” said Reck. “Know anything about them? It was pinned on your door.”
“They can wait while I go round my jaw. Not so sculptured as it used to be, seems to be more of it, somehow. ‘But beauty vanisheth, beauty fadeth, However fair, fair it be.’ Now let’s look. My hat, what a nerve.
“ ‘German Freedom League,’ ” he read. “ ‘Germans, arise!’ Ah, that was meant for you, Reck.”
“Nonsense,” said Reck, “for you. I’ve been up for hours.”
“One to you, but don’t rub it in. ‘Germans, undeceive yourselves! The Nazi leaders pretend they are making you strong and free, but in truth they are making you into a nation of slaves. Every day you have to work harder for less money, your liberties are curtailed, if any man complains he is thrown into prison without trial, while your leaders live in luxury and amass huge fortunes. Worse than this, they are indulging in wicked and senseless ambitions of conquest which will inevitably lead to war. There are no winners in a modern war, all suffer alike, even if Germany wins in the end it means privation, suffering, wounds and death. Germans, awake!’---Very rousing, this gentleman, ain’t he?---‘Stand up and proclaim that it is your desire to live in peace with all nations abroad, and at home to practise in happiness and freedom those pursuits of industry, science and culture which alone can make Germany prosperous and respected.’
“ ‘Follow the Freedom League!’ ”
“ ‘Down with the Nazi Party!’ ”
“Very nicely put,” said Reck appreciatively.
“I doubt if our illustrious leaders think so, wonder how many of these appeared in our midst this morning? There’ll be a row over this and I’ve a horrid feeling I shall be in the middle of it.”
Hambledon was not in the least surprised, therefore, to find on arriving at his office that a summons awaited him to discuss a matter of importance at eleven-thirty at the Ministry of Propaganda and Public Enlightenment. He was punctually received by the Minister in person.
“These posters,” said Goebbels. “We can’t have that kind of thing.”
“Assuredly not,” said the Chief of Police. “Most undesirable.”
“This damned Freedom League, who are they?”
“I have had my eye upon it for some time,” said Hambledon untruthfully. “It is an organization of discontented and subversive elements, fishing in troubled waters for what they can draw out to their own profit.”
“Doubtless, my dear Lehmann, but who are they?”
“That is precisely what it is my duty to discover. They are very well hidden, but if they think they can make a nuisance of themselves with impunity, I will show them that they are wrong.”
“You take the words out of my mouth,” said the Minister.
“I meant to,” said Hambledon to himself.
“I am sure you will deal with the scoundrels effectively and promptly.”
“The matter already has my attention.”
“Good. Your zeal and industry are examples to us all, I am sure. This brings me, my dear Lehmann, to the other point I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Now we come to the real nigger in the woodpile,” thought Hambledon, but he merely assumed an attitude of intelligent alacrity and waited in silence.
“I understand,” said the Minister, playing with a penwiper on his desk, “that you have been inquiring into the details of a certain financial latitude which is sometimes permitted to Jews leaving the country.”
“I am concerned,” said Hambledon with lofty nobility, “to put a final stop to corruption and law-breaking wherever and whenever I find it.”
“Admirable---in principle. But in practice, there is no harm in a special arrangement being made in some cases---in some cases, I repeat.”
“Your Excellency will be as horrified as I was,” said Hambledon earnestly, “to hear that so far from this practice being an occasional exception, it is in fact the common practice. No one knows better than Your Excellency the disastrous effect of financial corruption from subordinates. It destroys their natural honesty, it depraves their consciences, it ruins their morals and finally it undermines their loyalty. I would not trust a man so far as I could see him, who would take a bribe to break an order I had given him.”
“Very true,” said the Minister, slightly overcome by this spate of integrity, “but I think you exaggerate----”
“It is my business to be exact,” said Hambledon coldly. “I will send a précis of the results of my investigations for Your Excellency’s perusal, together with a complete list of the names and addresses of every man whom I have proved to be involved in this traffic, and the approximate amounts by which each man has illegally benefited---the last will be underestimated, believe me.”
“There is no need,” said the Minister hastily. “We have every confidence in your executive ability. There is only one thing, Lehmann, in which you have ever been known to fall short.”
“And that is----”
“The ability to take a hint.”
“I must beg Your Excellency to be plain with me, I am only a policeman, not a diplomatist, and it would be better to state clearly what you wish me to do.”
“Leave the matter alone, then,” said Goebbels irritably, “if you must have it in so many words, don’t interfere.”
“I am to understand that this corruption is to continue unchecked?” said Hambledon frigidly.
“Turn your superb detective abilities to the problem of the German Freedom League, Lehmann, and you will continue to earn the gratitude of the Reich.”
“I understand,” said Hambledon, rising. “I have the honour to wish Your Excellency good morning,” and he stalked out.
“Obstinate, pig-headed old die-hard,” said the Minister to himself. “Pity, he’s a useful man, but it looks as though his usefulness will come to an end soon if he can’t be more accommodating.”
“Sour-faced, evil-tongued, club-footed scoundrel,” said Hambledon to himself as he walked back to his office. “Another moment and I’d have rammed his inkstand down his throat, pens and all. I think my time here is running short, I’m not so patient with these swine as I used to be. They make me sick. I wonder just how much a year he gets out of that racket.”
He told himself that it was ridiculous to get so angry over this trivial matter, what did it matter to him if the Nazi Party went on corrupting itself till it was rotten from top to bottom? The sooner the better. It was really only his professional pride that was hurt, fancy being proud of being Chief of Police to this mob of gangsters. “I am a British agent,” he said, and straightened his shoulders. “All the same, I have a feeling this game is nearly up. I don’t think I can keep it up much longer.”
He went home to lunch, turning over in his mind the question of Ludovic and Hugo Beckensburg, Frau Christine’s menfolk. He had seen to it that they were as well treated as was possible in a concentration camp, but that wasn’t saying much, and the old man was feeling it. It would be as well to get them out of Germany as soon as possible, or perhaps the women had better go first. Frau Christine, anyway, the younger woman could wait. If Frau Christine could be got into Switzerland, the others could join her, that is, if she could travel alone.
“What’s the matter with Goebbels,” he concluded, “is that he’s funny and he doesn’t know it.”
He went in to lunch whistling.
“I went to see Christine this morning,” said Ludmilla.
“I’m glad to hear it, how did you find her?”
“Not very well. I wish we could do something for them.”
“I’m going to. They would be better out of Germany altogether, there is no future here for anyone of Jewish descent. If I could get Frau Christine out first, it would be best, I think.”
“Dear Klaus, I was sure you would manage it. What will you do, get her a forged passport?”
“You desperate criminal! Where did you get that idea from?”
“I read something about forged passports in the paper, and they wouldn’t let her go out with her own, would they? I don’t suppose she’s even got one, now.”
“I’ll bear your suggestion in mind,” said Klaus gravely. “Tell me, haven’t you got anything the matter with you?”
Ludmilla stared. “Matter with me? No. I’ve always been perfectly healthy, and apart from old age and a touch of rheumatism, I still am. My heart isn’t too sound, but that’s nothing, and I don’t see so well as I did, but you couldn’t expect me to. My last doctor said I had a dropsical tendency, but the man was a fool and so I told him. I have a tendency to heartburn but that’s my own fault, I will eat fried potatoes. No, I’m perfectly healthy, why do you ask and what are you laughing at?”
“Nothing. I think you’re wonderful, only it would be convenient if you could have something for which it’s necessary to have treatment in Switzerland.”
“Why?”
“You would want a companion, I mean somebody to talk to, you’d have Agathe, of course---I think Frau Christine would do very well. No one would question an old lady travelling with the Chief of Police’s aunt.”
“Klaus, of course not! How clever you are---but would that mean I should have to leave you?”
“Only for a little while,” he said soothingly, “not for long. Then either you could come back or I could come and join you---more likely the latter, I think.”
“Do you mean,” said Ludmilla, laying down her spoon and fork, “that you are really thinking of leaving Germany?”
“Sh---sh,” he said, “don’t speak of it. Don’t even think about it, but I don’t think I can go on with these people much longer. We don’t get on as well as we did, somehow,” he added grimly.
“Oh, Klaus dear, let’s go away! Let’s get out of this dreadful land now the Nazis have spoiled it. It won’t matter if we are poor again, will it, we’ll find a little house somewhere and I can still cook.”
“I think even if we do go, we shan’t starve. Push all this to the back of your mind for the present, it will need a good deal of arranging, you know. I only told you now so as to give you time to think it over, I didn’t want to spring it on you at the last moment.”
“If you knew,” she said, “how I’ve been longing for you to say this! Do you think we shall ever have enough money to go to England?”
“You’ve been very interested in England lately, haven’t you? Ever since the Ogilvies were here, why is it?”
“He told me,” she said, “that if you’re in difficulties in England you go to the police and they help you. Here, if you’re in trouble, you avoid them. I’d like to see a policeman who wanted to help you, Klaus, why aren’t your men like that?”
“Why, indeed,” he said.
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