The Vengeance of Rome
- Автор: Муркок Майкл
- Серия: Between The Wars #4
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Vengeance of Rome». Краткое содержание книги:
He told me all this in the interrogation room at Gestapo headquarters. He treated me kindly. I had drunk the promised coffee, eaten a sandwich, smoked a cigarette. He played no games with me. He let me see my massive Gestapo dossier, mostly taken from Prince Freddy’s own records. He explained how it had been compiled and why he could not possibly intercede for me without immediately condemning himself to a concentration camp.
‘The evidence is too strong, Dimka dear.’
‘But Kolya, I am accused only by a dead woman, her mad daughter and a discredited pervert. What crimes have I committed? What proof is there?’
‘Under the old German laws, these accusations would need to be proven beyond a shadow of doubt. Under the new German laws, you have committed several crimes not even listed here. Since the Führer cleansed the stables after the Röhm putsch, the party has become increasingly intolerant of deviance, both moral and racial.’
‘Kolya, you know I am not a Jew. You know my origins are purely Russian.’
And in this, I fear, he did betray me. He turned away into the shadows, out of the circle of light created by the overhead lamp. ‘I do not know that, Dimka,’ he said. ‘The evidence is against you. I have explained how, if I were to deny that evidence, I would also be in jeopardy. However aristocratic my blood, I am still, in the eyes of the racialists, an inferior Slav. What I have had to do to convince them of my family’s Nordic origins! We are descended from the Russ who came from Scandinavia to establish their leadership over the Slavs.’
‘But that is also my blood,’ I told him. ‘I am from Kiev. My father counted the blood of the Russ in his veins. Our family is as ancient as any on this continent!’
‘I believe you, Dimka. But now, if you cannot prove you are not Jewish, you are guilty. Your recent privations have added to that impression. And then there is your circumcision, your connection with Stavisky and his gang, with Odessa.’ He sighed and poured me another cup of coffee, offering me a chocolate Lebkuchen on a plate. ‘My hands are tied, Dimka dear.’
I accepted the cake and ate it greedily. Many months had passed since I enjoyed one as good. I washed it down with more coffee.
‘They have evidence that you did not merely interfere with Fräulein Kitty, Dimka. They know about that young Italian girl, Hecate Frau. You were often seen with her. Some of my colleagues suspect the Fraus were part of an Italian spy ring as they have vanished. We were hoping you knew where they were. And then you apparently had some sort of association with Röhm. Baldur von Schirach helped us there. He seems to have exonerated you from the worst suspicions. These investigations, of course, were not mine. I came rather late to your case. They gave it to me because of your Russian origins and that’s the only reason we are sitting here together. Otherwise, some unsympathetic stranger might have arrested you.’
‘I did nothing with that little girl. She was sweet. She was my friend. We had a common interest in the cinema. The family were supporters of Mussolini. They were not subversive in any sense.’
‘Aha. The cinema.’ He raised an elegant eyebrow.
‘Kolya! Kolya! How can you think such things? We went to cowboy movies together. I was lonely. She loved the cinema. Prince Freddy blackmailed me into that pornography. I hated it. You know how much I hated such things, Kolya. You yourself saved me from my captivity in Egypt!’
‘Well, one or two of my colleagues believe the theory that a victim ultimately becomes a predator. My superiors believe you might have been part of a circle of Jewish pornographers and pimps luring young girls into prostitution and making filthy films. They see you as a rather stereotypical Jew. And I must admit your career, at least superficially, verifies such prejudices —’
‘I am not a Jew, Kolya. I am not a pornographer. I am not a seducer of little Christian girls! My God, this is like a comic strip from Der Stürmer. You speak of me as if I was invented whole by Streicher!’
‘I know, Dimka. But the evidence is so much against you. Frau Oberhauser’s accumulation of press cuttings — the airship scandal, from which, you’ll recall, I was able to save you. In the Paris newspapers you were already characterised as a Jewish swindler. Much as I would like to speak up for you in that matter, I would not be believed. My bosses have already read the files. Their minds are made up.’
‘My letters to Göring offering to help in the rebuilding of the German air force! My one-man airship? What about those? I could still help them build it. The ship would be ideal for spying out enemy territory.’
‘I think those letters to Göring might have been a mistake. You know how these people take others’ ideas for their own credit. That’s the whole game these days in Berlin.’
‘Then what can you do for me, Kolya?’ I nursed the last inch of coffee in my cup as if I would never taste coffee again. ‘Am I to be returned to Stadelheim? What will my sentence be?’
‘There isn’t much I can do, Dimka. But we are having this conversation in the hope that I can find some way of helping you. You will not go to Stadelheim. And you will not be sentenced, as such. Your chances of release are, I will admit, very slim. If you can tell me anything to mitigate whatever fate they plan for you, you must let me know.’
‘What kind of thing?’
‘Well, if you have other associates who knew Röhm for instance. You are acquainted with Hanfstaengl, yes? And that traitor, Busch? Perhaps you know where left-wing Jews might be hiding. Any left-wingers, in fact . . .’
‘I have no other friends left in Germany. Hanfstaengl would not help me. I did not know Busch was a traitor. What did he do?’
‘He was arrested in the early days. When they released him, he tried to go to Vienna, no doubt to broadcast lies about his incarceration. He was arrested again, tried to escape and was shot, it seems. These other friends of yours . . . ?’
‘The friends I had were neither Jewish nor left-wingers. They were good Nazis. Even the journalists sympathised with Hitler. I hate socialism and communism, Kolya. You understand that, surely. Look what they have done to our country!’
‘Drug dealers, then. Your cocaine habit . . .’
‘It wasn’t a habit, Kolya. I have had no cocaine for months. The last I got was from Prince Freddy. He lured me into his confidence. I have been able to buy none since.’
‘You had no other contacts in Munich? What about the priest, Father Stempfle? Didn’t you know an SS man called something like Zeuss?’
‘I met Stempfle once or twice. In a beer cellar. I never knew any SS men, I swear.’
‘No one at Simplicissimus?’