The Vengeance of Rome

I took her to dinner at the Restaurant Steiner in Rosenstrasse, an expensive place, all plush and crystal, serving dinner in the old High South German style. The meal would cost me most of my remaining money but would be worth it to celebrate our reunion. She was recognised by several customers who stood up to bow, and she very prettily bowed back. ’Keep in wiv ther sods while yer a’ead, Ivan, eh?’

I agreed enthusiastically.

We finished our fish, but she only really came down to business at the meal’s end. Stroking the glass which had taken the last of my month’s budget, she offered a huge comradely grin. ‘We’re quids in, Ivan. I can’t see ‘ow it can fail. But it was touch an’ go until I saw yer tonight. My ‘Uggy’s got this idea of doing a series o’ cowboy pictures, ‘ere in Germany, and selling ‘em ter America!’

She clearly thought the idea mad.

‘Which means ‘e’s got ter ‘ave stars known in America. Which is where you an’ me come in, ‘cause them bloody Masked Buckaroo serials are orl over ther bloody place ‘ere! They get ‘em cheap in job lots. Ya know ther sorta fing. Yer can ‘ave two Tom Mixes and a ‘Oot Gibson but yer got ter take twelve episodes of Masked Buckaroo at Devil’s Jump. I ain’t complainin’. The Krauts fink we’re the biggest fing in ‘Ollywood! Anyway, we don’t ‘ave ter go orl the way back ter Arizona. ‘Uggy says we can find the right scenery in the East. I fink ‘e means Austria. ‘E reckons we can crack ther English an’ American market wiv somefink closer to its tastes. And there’s nuffink the world likes better than a good cowboy picture. I don’t know if ‘e’s right or wrong, Ivan, but there’s a bit of money in it for you an’ me. Worf a try, eh? Fer as long as it larsts? ‘E’s gettin’ ‘is white bloke lined up an’ I’m playing the beautiful mysterious princess, o’ course, but he needs you for the coloured chap.’

I suppose my inclination was to rise at that point, but politeness made me hear her out. She grinned at my expression. ‘It’s cowboys and Indians, Ive. Yer play this noble defender of ‘is wild domain. Child o’ nature. Like in Ther Vanishin’ American, remember? Or Ther Sheikh. Very romantic. All big brown eyes an’ brooding menace, eh? If only Red Indians did ther tango! A clarsy darkie, Ive. Yer’ll ‘ave orl ther girlies after ya! An Indian prince, Winnie the Pooh or somefink.’

‘Winnetou?’ I asked quietly. It began to dawn on me that this was no ordinary blackface role. ‘Of Karl May’s immortal tales?’

‘That’s ther bloke. May. I keep getting’ ‘im mixed up wiv Karl Marx. Both ‘ad bushy whiskers.’ She was delighted at my knowledge. ‘I’d never ‘eard of ‘im. But ‘e’s big news over ‘ere, right?’

‘He is Albert Schweitzer’s favourite author and what every German-speaking child has in common. I read and reread those books as a boy! I could probably quote Winnetou verbatim! They are what made me the idealist I am today. Professor Lustgarten, my tutor, had a full set. “Professor Vitzliputzli” inspired my interest in science, and of course I can vouch personally for May’s profound knowledge of the Sahara Winnetou, even more than Chingachgook, was a standard for all natural male virtue. May is a great writer, whose philosophy and metaphysics are as powerful as his storytelling gifts.’

‘Well, you and ‘Uggy’ll agree on that anyway. It’s ther same sorta drift. I told ‘im you were the exact chap. ‘E knows yer name ‘o course, and ‘e’s seen some of yer pictures. ‘E fought you wos worf puttin’ down some money for a private ‘tec. But Sexton Blake ‘imself couldn’t’a found yer! We’d almost given up on yer. Where yer bin? We fought ya wos wiv that Ernst Röhm, but ‘e tol’ ‘Uggy ‘e ‘adn’t seen yer fer monfs. Lon Creighton’s over in Berlin, and ‘e’s up for playin’ ther trapper geezer. Thass our Lonny’s son. Chip off th’ ol’ block. Like old ‘ome week, eh?’

‘Chaney’s son, if he has his father’s talent, will be perfect for the role of Sam Hawkens.’ I was growing enthusiastic as I visualised the kind of film we could make. Creighton was a friend from our Hollywood days. We had met him with his father. He refused to exploit his father’s name in those days, but it was well known to all filmgoers who he really was. “E’s getting’ a contract wiv RKO, but ‘e’s doing this till ‘is first US movie comes up.’

‘An all-star picture! Who’s playing Old Shatterhand himself?’

Old Shatterhand, a German greenhorn, was May’s Texan version of Natty Bumppo. Every German schoolboy had a clear idea of what he looked like.