"No, sir, of course not. What do you suggest, sir?"
"The officer in question is Wehrmacht Lieutenant Eberhard Tillmann. Formerly a fine officer, he took part in the blitzkreig against Poland and was also one of the first to enter Paris. Unfortunately, since the reversal of our fortunes at Stalingrad and in Africa, he has taken to making subversive comments to those who will listen. What do you suggest, Kapitn?"
Already incensed that the man was his wife"s lover, Ernst was even more outraged to hear that the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had been given what he had been denied: a part in the blitzkreig against Poland and the subsequent, magnificent advance across Europe and right into Paris.
"With your kind permission, Reichsfhrer, I will have this man transferred to the Eastern Front to take charge of a penal regiment. I will also ensure that my wife keeps her peace in the future."
"Excellent," Himmler said. "I respect a man who knows when to place his duty before personal feelings. You are dismissed, Capitn Stoll."
Ernst saluted and left the office, choking up with fury, and marched to the exit, not looking at his fellow SS men. He noticed only the usual collection of pale-faced, frightened people waiting to be interrogated, standing along the corridors, huddled pitifully on the wooden benches, ignored by the SS guards with the pistols and submachine guns who, in their black uniforms and leather boots, looked decidedly ominous.
A nation living in fear, Ernst thought, is a disciplined nation. We will need that when we move underground to forge a strong, fearless Aryan race.
In the meantime, before that happened, he was being a.s.sailed by mundane problems, the main one being the wife he had once loved so dearly.
He walked out of the building, into rain and a cold wind, and waved at one of the SS cars parked in the road. The driver moved up to him, let him in, and then drove off. Sinking into the rear seat, Ernst looked out at the ruins that had been caused by the Allied bombing and thought of the night Hitler had become the Chancellor of Germany and he and Ingrid had gone to bed in the Adlon Hotel. They had loved one another then with the innocence of idealism, but now both of them were older than their years and had become bitter enemies. Human relationships were treacherous, ephemeral, without substance, so he was glad to be involved with the SS and what it represented: an ideal state beyond petty, individual considerations; the subordination of the self to the whole in order to create a new, better man in an orderly world.
This was something to cherish.
He slapped Ingrid"s face as soon as he walked into the apartment. "Don"t look so shocked," he said quietly. "You know what it"s for." She covered her stinging cheek with her hand. "No," she said, "I don"t know what it"s for. And you have no right to "
"Eberhard Tillmann. A Wehrmacht lieutenant, I believe.
Presumably as good in bed as he was on the march to Paris, but now
joining my wife in publicly abusing the Fatherland. Now do you
understand?"
Ingrid removed her hand from her face and stared defiantly at him.
"Yes, Ernst, now I understand. As I also understand why we won Paris
he is that good in bed!"
Ernst slapped her again and she fell against the sideboard,
straightening up as some decorative plates fell off and smashed on the
floor. The children"s bedroom door opened and two faces appeared:
Ula, now nine years old, and AI!red, now six. Ernst, who saw so little
of them these days, was shocked by how mature they looked, how
quickly time pa.s.sed.
Ashamed that they should have heard him smacking their mother,
he covered it with a display of cold anger.
"Stay in your room and close the door," he said. "Your mother and I
are talking."
"Yes, Papa," Ula said, her azure eyes emphasized by the golden hair
that fell on her blushing cheeks. Then she pushed the gawking Alfred
back into the room and gently closed the door .
"A nice thing for the children to see," Ingrid said, again rubbing her
stinging cheek. "Their father striking their mother."
"Not as bad as eventually learning that their mother"s been