Read Online Munich Signature by Bodie Thoene, Brock Thoene - Free Book Online Page B

officer snapped his fingers and summoned a waiter. With a sweep of his hand, he motioned toward a round table, tiered like a cake and laden with pastries. “I would like you to carry an eclair down to the dungeon,” he told the startled waiter. “Yes. To the lowest level.”
    “The dungeon, Colonel?” The waiter squeaked and then glanced at Murphy to see if the colonel had gone mad. Murphy shrugged his amusement at the strange order.
    “Take it to the guard with my instructions that it is to be given to Albert Sporer. Sporer is to be told of the celebration we have here tonight in honor of the defeat of the Führer’s plan. The president of the Czech democracy is dancing at this moment with the woman who stopped the assassin.”
    “Yes, Colonel.” The waiter scurried away to find a particularly large and tasty eclair.
    Murphy nodded in appreciation as the music stopped. “A fine sort of mental torture, Colonel,” he complimented. “Of course, if you were in a dungeon in Berlin, I can assure you that the Nazis would send you something besides an eclair.”
    “When one has a devil in the dungeon, it seems appropriate to remind him that there are still free men walking about. Do you not agree? A taste of democracy for the tyrants and assassins.”
    Murphy laughed out loud. “I would like to quote that for my paper, Colonel, but there are a lot of hungry readers out there who would be happy to give up their freedom for an eclair.”
    “Ah, yes. Difficult times. Difficult.”
    President Beneš, pleasantly flushed and out of breath, escorted Elisa back to where Murphy and the colonel stood. Beneš kissed her hand and then peered up at Murphy. “All this beauty and she can also outrun the opera house guards too! All she talks about, however, is her husband, Herr Murphy. She says you are quite a journalist. And that for weeks you have tried to get a—a scoop ?” He looked at Elisa questioningly. “That is the correct word?”
    She nodded. “An American news term.”
    “Ah, yes.” Beneš said thoughtfully. “I have made her promise not to talk about it next time we dance and in return, Herr Murphy, you shall have your scoop . Shall we adjourn to my office? We can talk while the colonel keeps your lovely wife company. He can dance with only one arm. Indeed, she will be much safer with a one-armed man.”
    Murphy smiled his thanks to Elisa and then followed the president and his covey of bodyguards out of the ballroom.
    ***
     
    Another kind of music was being played in Berlin. As the candles of Hradcany flickered hopefully, the Hitler Youth lit their torches and followed rank upon rank of SS Blackshirts in an endless march to honor the pagan German gods. From the balcony of the Chancellery, Hitler stood with arm outstretched above them in blessing. As the fires of the torches illuminated him, a million voices joined in this song of praise:
    Adolf Hitler is our savior, our hero.
    He is the noblest being in all the world.
    For Hitler we live!
    For Hitler we die!
    Our Hitler is our lord
    Who rules a brave new world!
    If such adoration pleased the Führer, his pleasure was not reflected in his face. Grim, unmoving, he watched them. These were his people, and he was their god. The seven hundred thousand youths he had torn from the church only four years earlier now became the fulfillment of his prophecy. “ I will see again in the eyes of youth the gleam of beasts of prey! ”
    Tonight, those young eyes shone the flame of hatred. They reflected the face of their Führer. Their lord.
    If parents grieved for their lost children, no one listened—not even God, it seemed. There was a new god in Germany now, a new order.
    Hour after hour the procession continued. When other members of his Nazi entourage tired of the sameness of the spectacle and moved restlessly from the balcony, the Führer did not notice.
    The thump of drums permeated even the thick walls of the Chancellery where Admiral Canaris had retired for a few