Page 11 of Winter of the World (The Century 2)

Robert said: "Permit me to explain something to you, Commissar. I am an Austrian count. Twenty years ago I had a castle and a large country estate in Hungary where my mother and sister lived. In the war I lost my family, my castle, my lands, and even my country, which was . . . miniaturized." His tone of amused sarcasm had gone, and his voice became gruff with emotion. "I came to Berlin with nothing but the address of Walter von Ulrich, my second cousin. Nevertheless I managed to open this restaurant." He swallowed. "It is all I have." He paused, and drank some coffee. The others around the table were silent. He regained his poise, and something of his superior tone of voice. "Even if you offered a generous price--which you have not--I would still refuse, because I would be selling my whole life. I have no wish to be rude to you, even though you have behaved unpleasantly. But my restaurant is not for sale at any price." He stood up and held out his hand to shake. "Good night, Commissar Macke."

Macke automatically shook hands, then looked as if he regretted it. He stood up, clearly angry. His fat face was a purplish color. "We will talk again," he said, and he walked out.

"What an oaf," said Jorg.

Walter said to Ethel: "You see what we have to put up with? Just because he wears that uniform, he can do anything he likes!"

What had bothered Lloyd was Macke's confidence. He had seemed to feel sure he could buy the restaurant at the price he named. He reacted to Robert's refusal as if it were no more than a temporary setback. Were the Nazis already so powerful?

This was the kind of thing Oswald Mosley and his British Fascists wanted--a country in which the rule of law was replaced by bullying and beating. How could people be so damn stupid?

They put on their coats and hats and said good night to Robert and Jorg. As soon as they stepped outside, Lloyd smelled smoke--not tobacco, but something else. The four of them got into Walter's car, a BMW Dixi 3/15, which Lloyd knew was a German-manufactured Austin Seven.

As they drove through the Tiergarten park, two fire engines overtook them, bells clanging. "I wonder where the fire is," said Walter.

A moment later they saw the glow of flames through the trees. Maud said: "It seems to be near the Reichstag."

Walter's tone changed. "We'd better take a look," he said worriedly, and he made a sudden turn.

The smell of smoke grew stronger. Over the tops of the trees Lloyd could see flames shooting skyward. "It's a big fire," he said.

They emerged from the park onto the Konigs Platz, the broad plaza between the Reichstag building and the Kroll Opera House opposite. The Reichstag was ablaze. Red and yellow light danced behind the classical rows of windows. Flame and smoke jetted up through the central dome. "Oh, no!" said Walter, and to Lloyd he sounded stricken with grief. "Oh, God in heaven, no."

He stopped the car and they all got out.

"This is a catastrophe," said Walter.

Ethel said: "Such a beautiful old building."

"I don't care about the building," Walter said surprisingly. "It's our democracy that's on fire."

A small crowd watched from a distance of about fifty yards. In front of the building, fire engines were lined up, their hoses already playing on the flames, water jetting in through broken windows. A handful of policemen stood around doing nothing. Walter spoke to one of them. "I am a Reichstag deputy," he said. "When did this start?"

"An hour ago," the policeman said. "We've got one of them that did it--a man with nothing on but his trousers! He used his clothes to start the fire."

"You should put up a rope cordon," Walter said with authority. "Keep people at a safe distance."

"Yes, sir," said the policeman, and went off.

Lloyd slipped away from the others and moved nearer to the building. The firemen were bringing the blaze under control: there was less flame and more smoke. He walked past the fire engines and approached a window. It did not seem very dangerous, and anyway his curiosity overcame his sense of self-protection--as usual.

When he peered through a window he saw that the destruction was severe: walls and ceilings had collapsed into piles of rubble. As well as firemen he saw civilians in coats--presumably Reichstag officials--moving around in the debris, assessing the damage. Lloyd went to the entrance and climbed the steps.

Two black Mercedes cars roared up just as the police were erecting their cordon. Lloyd looked

on with interest. Out of the second car jumped a man in a light-colored trench coat and a floppy black hat. He had a narrow mustache under his nose. Lloyd realized he was looking at the new chancellor, Adolf Hitler.

Behind Hitler followed a taller man in the black uniform of the Schutzstaffel, the SS, his personal bodyguard. Limping after them came the Jew-hating propaganda chief, Joseph Goebbels. Lloyd recognized them from newspaper photographs. He was so fascinated to see them close up that he forgot to be horrified.

Hitler ran up the steps two at a time, heading directly toward Lloyd. On impulse, Lloyd pushed open the big door and held it wide for the chancellor. With a nod to him, Hitler walked in, and his entourage followed.

Lloyd joined them. No one spoke to him. Hitler's people seemed to assume he was one of the Reichstag staff, and vice versa.

There was a foul smell of wet ashes. Hitler and his party stepped over charred beams and hosepipes, treading in mucky puddles. In the entrance hall stood Hermann Goring, a camel-hair coat covering his huge belly, his hat turned up in front Potsdam-fashion. This was the man who was packing the police force with Nazis, Lloyd thought, recalling the conversation in the restaurant.

As soon as Goring saw Hitler he shouted: "This is the beginning of the Communist uprising! Now they'll strike out! There's not a minute to waste!"

Lloyd felt weirdly as if he were in the audience at the theater, and these powerful men were being played by actors.

---