The Hunt

society.’ “ He threw the paper down again. “People think these are my thoughts too, Willie!”

And then, as if to justify what was about to happen, still stalking the room, he said:

“On June fourth, not a month ago, I sent for him. ‘Ernst,’ I said, ‘Stop this madness. You must conform to the rules of the Third Reich.’ Yes, mein Fuhrer, he said. I reminded him of the Beer Hall Putsch when sixteen of our comrades died in the streets and he was himself shot. ‘All our ideals we fought for then are within our grasp. Believe in me,’ I told him. ‘Don’t cause trouble.’ Yes, mein Fuhrer, he said. ‘Take a month’s leave, all of you. No uniforms for a month,’ I said. Yes . . . mein.

Fuhrer, he said.” Hitler started to scream. “Now he has called all his top men to Lake Tegern for a meeting. . . and they are all in uniform! He lied to me. Lies! Lies! Lies!”

Hitler stopped and shook his head violently. Vierhaus decided to divert his attention, get his mind off Rohm for the moment.

“I, uh, have some encouraging news, mein Fuhrer. I had decided to wait, I understand the stress of the evening .

Hitler dropped heavily into a leather chair near the windows. He sat hunched down, his eyes bulging like those of a madman, the whites around his pupils glaring eerily in the shadows. The eyes looked up at Vierhaus.

“No. No you don’t, Willie. Nobody understands it but me.”

Vierhaus saw in the moment, a chance perhaps to curry favor, to take the edge off the night.

“Perhaps while we’re waiting for Goebbels . .

“Yes, yes, what is it?”

“I know who the head of the Black Lily is and how to catch him.”

Hitler’s face did not change but his eyes brightened.

“Who?” His voice was a low rasp.

“The head of the Black Lily is a young Jew, until recently a student. His name is Avrum Wolffson. I also know the names of his chief lieutenants. And best of all, I know how to get to him.”

“Do it immediately,” Hitler snarled. “The moment this is all over, do it.”

“Yes, mein Fuhrer, the process has already started. I hope to arrest him as soon as Hummingbird is complete.”

“What a moment, Willie! If we can destroy Rohm and the Black Lily in one, swift, Blitzkrieg.

“Consider it done, mein Fuhrer.”

“Kill him, you hear me, Vierhaus?” Hitler said, his voice beginning to rise. “No trial, no publicity until it’s over.” He slammed his fist on the coffee table. “Just kill him!”

“Yes, mein Fuhrer.”

Hitler thought for a moment, then said, “Take him to the cellar at Landsberg and behead him.”

“Yes, mein Fuhrer.”

Hitler stood up and began pacing again. “And then cremate him and throw his ashes to the winds.”

“As you wish.”

“I want him obliterated.”

“Yes, mein Fuhrer.”

“Power is in the muzzle of a gun, Willie. Rohm is about to find that out. And this Wolf. . what?

“Wolffson.”

‘Ja, Wolffson. They have made their coffins, now they will lie in them.”

‘Ja, mein Fuhrer,” Vierhaus said and to himself added, It is about time.

Then the messages started. Couriers, telephone calls, telegrams, all reporting on the preparations for the night’s devilish activities. Finally Himmler called Hitler personally.

“Mein Fuhrer, we have irrefutable evidence that the SA is planning a coup d’etat for tomorrow.”

“What! Where did you get this evidence?”

“Karl Ernst has alerted the SA troops for a general uprising.”

Karl Ernst was the SA chief of Berlin, a longtime friend of Rohm’s and a dedicated storm trooper.

“Is Goring there? I wish to speak to him,” Hitler snapped.

“Nein, mein Fuhrer. He is on the street. The entire area between Tiergartenstrasse and the Augustastrasse is cordoned off. The SA are trapped in the middle. Nothing gets in or out.”

“Excellent. Do not move until I give the word.”

“Of course, mein Fuhrer,” Himmler answered.