Page 23 of Winter of the World (The Century 2)

Fascism threatened all that. But perhaps Fascism would fail. Walter might be able to talk Gottfried around, and prevent the Centre Party supporting the Nazis.

Heinrich came out. "He'll do it."

"Great! Herr von Ulrich suggested the Herrenklub at one o'clock."

"Really? Is he a member?"

"I assume so--why?"

"It's a conservative institution. I suppose he is Walter von Ulrich, so he must come from a noble family, even if he is a socialist."

"I should probably book a table. Do you know where it is?"

"Just around the corner." Heinrich gave Lloyd directions.

"Shall I book for four?"

Heinrich grinned. "Why not? If they don't want you and me there, they can just ask us to leave." He went back into the room.

Lloyd left the building and walked quickly across the plaza, passing the burned-out Reichstag building, and made his way to the Herrenklub.

There were gentlemen's clubs in London, but Lloyd had never been inside one. This place was a cross between a restaurant and a funeral parlor, he thought. Waiters in full evening dress padded about, laying silent cutlery on tables shrouded in white. A headwaiter took his reservation and wrote down the name "von Ulrich" as solemnly as if he were making an entry in the Book of the Dead.

He returned to the opera house. The place was getting busier and noisier, and the tension seemed higher. Lloyd heard someone say excitedly that Hitler himself would open the proceedings this afternoon by proposing the act.

A few minutes before one, Lloyd and Walter walked across the plaza. Lloyd said: "Heinrich von Kessel was surprised to learn that you are a member of the Herrenklub."

Walter nodded. "I was one of the founders, a decade or more ago. In those days it was the Juniklub. We got together to campaign against the Versailles Treaty. It's become a right-wing bastion, and I'm probably the only Social Democrat, but I remain a member because it's a useful place to meet with the enemy."

Inside the club Walter pointed to a sleek-looking man at the bar. "That's Ludwig Franck, the father of young Werner, who fought alongside us at the People's Theater," Walter said. "I'm sure he's not a member here--he isn't even German-born--but it seems he's having lunch with his father-in-law, Count von der Helbard, the elderly man beside him. Come with me."

They went to the bar and Walter performed introductions. Franck said to Lloyd: "You and my son got into quite a scrap a couple of weeks back."

Lloyd touched the back of his head reflexively: the swelling had gone down, but the place was still painful to touch. "We had women to protect, sir," he said.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of a punch-up," Franck said. "Does you lads good."

Walter cut in impatiently: "Come on, Ludi. Busting up election meetings is bad enough, but your leader wants to completely destroy our democracy!"

"Perhaps democracy is not the right form of government for us," said Franck. "After all, we're not like the French or the Americans--thank God."

"Don't you care about losing your freedom? Be serious!"

Franck suddenly dropped his facetious air. "All right, Walter," he said coldly. "I will be serious, if you insist. My mother and I arrived here from Russia more than ten years ago. My father was not able to come with us. He had been found to be in possession of subversive literature, specifically a book called Robinson Crusoe, apparently a novel that promotes bourgeois individualism, whatever the hell that might be. He was sent to a prison camp somewhere in the Arctic. He may--" Franck's voice broke for a moment, and he paused, swallowed, and at last finished quietly: "He may still be there."

There was a moment of silence. Lloyd was shocked by the story. He knew that the Russian Communist government could be cruel, in general, but it was quite another thing to hear a personal account, told simply by a man who was clearly still grieving.

Walter said: "Ludi, we all hate the Bolsheviks--but the Nazis could be worse!"

"I'm willing to take that risk," said Franck.

Count von der Helbard said: "We'd better go in for lunch. I've got an afternoon appointment. Excuse us." The two men left.

"It's what they always say!" Walter raged. "The Bolsheviks! As if they were the only alternative to the Nazis! I could weep."

Heinrich walked in with an older man who was obviously his father: they had the same thick dark hair combed with a parting, except that Gottfried's was shorter and tweeded with silver. Although their features were similar, Gottfried looked like a fussy bureaucrat in an old-fashioned collar, whereas Heinrich was more like a romantic poet than a political aide.

The four of them went into the dining room. Walter wasted no time. As soon as they had ordered he said: "I can't understand what your party hopes to gain by supporting this Enabling Act, Gottfried."

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