‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘Frau Schimmel did though.’
Willi laughed. ‘Frau Schimmel sees everything.’
The First Report
‘SA Mann Heinz Schleiffer to see you, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter.’
Lorelei, the District Group Leader’s secretary – and his lover until the night before – gave the ‘Herr’ a sneering emphasis. Ortsgruppenleiter Gerhard Mecklinger had promised Lorelei he would divorce his wife and marry her. But now he had called off their affair, saying he just couldn’t leave Gudrun, his wife. He had called her Lorelei once too often, and she had given him an ultimatum.
Gerhard had recently been named District Group Leader, which was a big step up for him. It put him in charge of some hundred storm troopers. Gudrun reminded him that this, his big break, had come about entirely thanks to her being Heinrich Himmler’s favorite niece. So the choice was Gerhard’s: he could stay with her and rise through the ranks to higher and higher office, thanks to Uncle Heinrich. Or he could run off with that trollop Lorelei, in which case Gudrun would see to it that he wound up in Dachau.
And now, with this mess on his mind, here came that asshole Schleiffer once again. Every district had its troublemakers, but Schleiffer was in a class by himself. Every week he showed up to report an imaginary traitor. Gerhard had dutifully reported the first infractions to his higher-ups, but soon heard back from them in no uncertain terms that what he was reporting was nonsense, the suspicions of a deranged mind. For instance, jumping onto a moving streetcar was a little dangerous, but it was not treason. A Reichsmark and fifteen pfennigs was a little high for a sausage and a hard roll, but it was not a betrayal of the Fatherland or an insult to the Führer. Schleiffer had even reported a homeless beggar, as though her asking for a handout were an act of sabotage. It was up to the Ortsgruppenleiter, they said, to decide what was a legitimate complaint and what wasn’t and to put a stop to this nonsense.
‘Shall I show Herr Schleiffer in, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter?’ said Lorelei.
‘Tell him I’m busy,’ said Mecklinger and began shuffling the papers that lay on the desk in front of him.
‘He says he has an important matter to report,’ said Lorelei. A smile crept across her pretty red mouth. She clearly enjoyed delivering this unpleasant news. Mecklinger decided in that moment this couldn’t go on; he was going to have to fire her.
‘Shall I show him in?’ she said again. Without waiting for an answer, Lorelei said, ‘This way, Herr Schleiffer.’
‘Close the door, Fräulein,’ said the Ortsgruppenleiter as Lorelei left the room. She slammed the door so hard that the glass rattled.
Heinz stood at attention, gazing at the huge portrait of Hitler behind Ortsgruppenleiter Mecklinger. He saluted. ‘Heil Hitler!’ he shouted.
‘Heil Hitler, Schleiffer. What is it this time?’
‘The Ortsgruppenleiter is well?’
‘Yes, Schleiffer, very well, thank you. What is it? As you can see, I’m very busy.’
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter. But something very important has occurred, and I think it is essential that you know.’
‘All right. Tell me,’ said Mecklinger.
‘Aren’t you going to write it down, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter?’
Mecklinger picked up his pen. ‘Tell me, Schleiffer.’
‘I’m here to report a Herr Karl Juncker, residing in apartment twenty-one in my building, Tullemannstraße fifty-four. Herr Juncker received a letter from the United States a few days ago. And then, yesterday, he received a package from England.’
‘A package?’
‘A book, I think.’
Gerhard Mecklinger stopped writing and lay down his pen. ‘Could you get straight to the point, Schleiffer? I’m a busy man.’ He tapped the stacks of paper on his desk. ‘What exactly is the important thing that you wish to report?’
‘Herr Ortsgruppenleiter?’
‘Wait. Are you seriously telling me that you are reporting someone for receiving mail from abroad?’
‘Herr Ortsgruppenleiter, I don’t think I need to remind you of the Führer’s dire warnings against foreign elements at work trying hard to undermine Germany’s economy and our well-being. There are English and American agents in our beloved Fatherland at this very moment seeking …’
‘And you believe, Schleiffer, that this …’ he looked at the name he had written … ‘Karl Juncker is one such dangerous character, because he receives mail from abroad?’
‘Why not?’ Schleiffer said. He was not to be deterred. ‘The evidence is circumstantial, I realize that. But I am certain, if I could get into his apartment, I would find evidence to prove my case.’
‘You do not have a case, Schleiffer, and you are certainly not authorized to get into his apartment. You are not the Gestapo. Do you understand me? There is no case. You are wasting my time, Schleiffer, with your endless fantasies of wrongdoing.’
‘Really? Well, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter, what if I told you this Karl Juncker is pretending to be a high Party official? Would you think my suspicions were a fantasy then?’
Schleiffer had decided to play his trump card, and in fact Mecklinger was momentarily taken aback. ‘What are you talking about? Was he in uniform or what?’
‘When I encountered him, he was wearing an official Party decoration.’
‘What decoration?’ Mecklinger had picked up his pen again.
‘A red rosette, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter.’
‘A red rosette?’ He laid the pen down again. ‘Was this a decoration that you recognized, Schleiffer?’
‘No, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter. But …’
‘And how do you know this is a Party decoration and not a military decoration or, for that matter, a civilian decoration? There are countless rosettes of every color, Schleiffer, red, black, white, blue, violet …’
‘I assumed, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter …’
Mecklinger paused for a moment and thought. He rubbed his chin and nodded, as though he had reached a decision. ‘You’re right, Schleiffer … yes, I think you’re right. Yes. We’re going to look into it.’
‘You will?’ This was a sudden and surprising change. For the first time ever, one of Heinz Schleiffer’s reports was being taken seriously. It would go up the chain of command and would be acted upon. ‘You mean, Herr Ortsgruppenleiter, that it
