The Hunt

Hitler looked perplexed for several moments, then his lips curved into a smile.

“You are a mad one, Willie,” he said.

“I am deadly serious.”

“Burn the Reichstag!”

“Think about it, mein Fuhrer, “Vierhaus continued, his voice still almost a whisper. “It is to all Germans the most sacred building in Germany. Right now, the Communists are the strongest party in the country. If the Reichstag were put to the torch and the Communists were blamed for it, the people would be outraged. Excuse enough to bring the party down once and for all. Then focus attention on the Brown House as the new seat of government. You rid yourself of the Reds, throw the parliament into chaos

“And use parliamentary decree to take over once and for all,” Hitler interceded.

“You are a step ahead of me.”

“A dangerous move, my friend,” Hitler said, his eyes narrowing.

“I have heard Hermann talk about a secret passageway from the residence to the Reichstag. Easy enough to arrange the fire. Then all you need is a scapegoat. I am sure Himmler or Goring can arrange that.”

At first Hitler was astounded but as he listened, the plot began to take shape in his own mind. Daring? Yes. Audacious? Yes. Possible? He tapped his cheek nervously with a finger.

“Just a thought, Herr Chancellor. Something to mull over. But if it is to be done, it must done quickly.”

The plot turned Hitler’s mood. He had been jocular, now he became dark and brooding. Vierhaus realized he had to change the mood back.

“It’s a dismal old building anyway,” he said lightly, pouring himself another coffee. He looked at the Fuhrer and smiled.

Hitler stared back for a moment more, then his face softened and he leaned back and laughed.

“So, Willie, you have stirred the pot again. Does that mind of yours ever rest?”

“Occasionally.”

“When you are asleep, eh?”

“No. Sometimes my best ideas come in dreams.”

It was a clever response for it appealed to Hitler’s fascination with dreams, psychism and astrology, and Vierhaus knew it.

“Well, I will consider your Reichstag idea, Willie. Perhaps it is not as crazy as it sounded,” Hitler said. “Now let’s talk about the Twenty-seven project. Talk to me about der Schauspieler.”

Vierhaus leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then he began to recite the information.

“A devout party member and an ardent supporter of the Fuhrer. A war hero like yourself. He was still in his teens when he won the Iron Cross at Belleau Wood

“For what?”

Hitler interrupted whenever the mood served him; Vierhaus was accustomed to that. He also sensed a tinge of jealousy in the question. Hitler had also won two Iron Crosses, a rare achievement for an enlisted man. It surprised him that the actor had also earned such a distinction.

“He destroyed a tank and two squads of American Marines before he was himself wounded. He returned to the front and was captured near the end of the war at Cambrai, the day the wind shifted.”

“I hate to think about that day. A tragedy for us. Was he gassed then?”

“No, he managed to kill an Englishman and take his mask.”

“Resourceful, ja?”

“Very,” Vierhaus nodded. “He was born near Linz

“Ah, an Austrian.”

“Yes. And quite proud of it. His born, name is Hans Wolfe.

“Wolfe, eh. A good name. A significant name.”

“Yes,, mein Fuhrer. His father was a storekeeper. He died early on, when the boy was ten. The mother taught school. She died while he was in the army. He studied engineering at Berlin University but quit in the early twenties. He became one of the wanderers, a lost soul for almost two years

“Was he in the SA?”

Vierhaus shook his head.

“No. He joined the party in Nuremberg in 1927. A year later he auditioned for a small part in a film and ended up getting the leading part. That’s when this charade of his began. He lives in Berlin as Johann Ingrsol1 and has a summer place outside of Munich where he uses his real name. And . . . he contributes heavily to the party.”

“Excellent. Personality?”

“Arrogant, demanding, self-centered, explosive. Also extremely intelligent and well read. He can actually quote long passages from Mein Kampf”

“Really!” Hitler said, obviously pleased.

“Yes. He can also be quite outspoken, even insulting at times, and I hear he has quite a cynical sense of humor.