Lanny said: “I have only met him casually, and do not claim to know him well; but I know his type. The upper-class Englishman is taught that it is his destiny to govern; he is taught that idea from the time he is able to understand words, and as a rule no other idea ever takes root in his consciousness. He is taught that he must govern well and honestly; and whenever his interests require that he do a certain thing, he must not fail to find moral reasons for the action. Other people may not be satisfied with those reasons, and that is what has given rise to the idea that the English are hypocritical.”
That caused the Führer of the Germans to recall how Clive and Hastings had taken India. They had found moral reasons for that; and even though the rest of the world was not satisfied, India was kept. Evidently Adi had found some time for reading history; or perhaps somebody had been supplying him with data, prior to the arrival of the British ambassador in the morning!
The Führer wanted to know about quite a string of Englishmen. Lord Beaverbrook, for example; he had been such an ardent friend of Germany, and now he seemed to be growing lukewarm. Lanny told what he had said on the Riviera. And then Lothian; he, too, seemed to be weakening in his sympathies. Lanny explained that this noble lord was a Christian Scientist, and therefore his brand of pacifism was different from the Nazis’. And then the Frenchmen. Who was it that had forced the expulsion of Abetz, and did the French not realize that it was practically an act of war? What did Daladier have to do with it, and more important, what part had Madame de Crussol played? And Reynaud and his noble lady, Madame de Portes—these damned aristocratic whores had too much to say about politics, and it was one of the signs of the disintegration of France. Lanny had no difficulty in agreeing.
IV
All this time there were two Lanny Budds; one a suave discourser on international intrigue, and the other a shivering wretch, thinking: “The séance is lasting a long time, and what does it mean?” Picturing Rudolf Hess coming in—or perhaps Heinrich Himmler, who could say?—announcing: “We have learned that this woman whom Herr Budd has brought into your home is a notorious anti-Nazi criminal!” Or perhaps, not quite so bad, but bad enough: “This woman is a complete fraud, whose spirits do not know that Adolf Wagner and Karl Haushofer are living!” Really, it was enough to produce a case of schizophrenia, a personality split as if with an ax.
But no, the program had been well planned, and the surprises were of a different sort. The Deputy Führer came in, striding fast, but not forgetting his manners, waiting until his great master asked the question: “Also, was gibt’s?” Adi addressed his former secretary in that brotherly fashion, and Rudi was the only man Lanny had ever heard address the Führer with the familiar “Du.”
“Merkwürdig!” exclaimed the other. “Herr Budd is right, this woman really has the gift.”
“Well, tell us about it.”
Rudi began, speaking German for his Führer’s benefit. “There came a spirit who called himself Fritz; he said he had been one of the guards at Landsberg. He thought I wouldn’t remember him, but as a matter of fact before he got through I did begin to recall him. Lanny, are you sure you never told Miss Jones about Landsberg?”
“I was most careful,” Lanny replied. “I wanted this to be a real test, for me as well as for you.”
“It was extremely curious. The control is an old Negro, an ex-slave from Virginia who was called Uncle Cicero. They gave them names like that, I suppose in a sort of mischief. He doesn’t know any German, and Fritz was trying to speak to him in English that he said was bad. Then Fritz had to get another spirit to translate for him, so it all went rather slowly. The man described the room in which we worked, and the desk at which I sat, and how the Führer behaved and how I behaved—it was really quite striking. Some of the details were not of the sort one would expect—I know that when I was sentenced to a fortress, I thought I would be put in a cell and I certainly didn’t expect a bright sunny room with a good bed in it. Fritz said he had brought us our food several times when the regular wardens were away. He told what he had brought, and what you had said and what I had said—it was really quite uncanny, hearing that from the lips of a woman who had come from New York. Quite a good-looking woman, incidentally. What is she like in her own personality?”
This to Lanny; but the Führer commanded: “Stick to your spirits. What else?”
“One very curious thing: he said he had come back to those corridors several times; but he had been seen, and it had frightened people, so perhaps it would be better if he did not come any more. I told him to come, and I would have a watch kept, and if he were seen it would be reported to me.”
“Did he mention any other people?”
“He said he knew Eberhardt, and Reinach, but they did not appear. I asked him to bring some other Germans to talk to me, and presently he said there was a dignified old gentleman, whom he described in detail. The old gentleman said he was Baron von Zinszollern, and he talked to the control—his English was better, and I could notice the difference, even through the voice of the old Negro. Did you know Zinszollern in Munich?”
“I may have met him casually,” replied the Führer. “He took no interest in politics, and was stingy with his money—or possibly he didn’t have as much as he led people to think.”
“He talked convincingly, and I questioned him about some of our friends. I named Professor Heinzelmann, and that was a fortunate thought; he said that he saw a great deal of Heinzelmann and would try to produce him, and then he did. I believe it was the most convincing thing I ever experienced in a séance. Uncle Cicero described Heinzelmann to the very life; and those two old men carried on quite a conversation. They had been friends in Munich, and they talked about dinners in Zinszollern’s palace—I have never been in it, but I met him, I think at the opening of the Künstlerhaus, and I remember him very well. They argued a while about Haushofer and his ideas, and nothing could have been more lifelike.”
“I would be interested,” said the Führer, rather impatiently, “provided the Professor had had something to say about the present state of Europe.”
“He did,” replied Hess. “I said to the Negro: ‘Tell him that Rudolf Hess is here, and has he any advice to give him?’ The reply was that Heinzelmann was following events closely, and that it was better to take half a step forward and remain there than to take a long step forward and then have to take two backwards.”
“More of those damned peace-lovers—diese verdammten Friedensprediger!” grumbled the Führer.
“I said: ‘Ask him if Britain and France will fight.’ The answer was ‘They will all fight many times.’ That wasn’t very satisfactory, and it didn’t sound at all like Heinzelmann, who was so direct and even abrupt. I asked for something more definite, but the old bore, Zinszollern, butted in, and asked if he remembered the paintings he had. They talked for a while and I didn’t interrupt, because it is not advisable to try to force the spirits—it annoys them and spoils the séance. Those two voices faded away and that was the end of that act.”
“Hardly worth the time it took,” was the Führer’s verdict.
V
However, there was another, and Hess assured them that it would be worth hearing. There had been a long wait, and he had heard the young woman breathing hard, and had thought she was coming out of her trance. “But then came a new voice, sounding like a man’s but not the old Negro’s. It said: ‘Who are you?’ in English, and repeated the question. I said: ‘I am Rudolf Hess,’ and the voice said: ‘The Nazi?’ I answered: ‘Yes, and who are you?’ The reply was: ‘I am Sir Basil Zaharoff.’ I said: ‘The munitions manufacturer?’ and he replied: ‘The same.’”
“Schiessdreck!” exclaimed the Führer. “What did that old Mischling want?”
“That’s what I wondered. I said: ‘You are no great friend of ours.’ He answered: ‘Better than you think. You would be surprised if you knew all that I had done for you.’ And he went on to tell me that he was a friend of peace. I didn’t argue wit
h him, for I was afraid it might break things up. You knew him well, didn’t you, Lanny?”
“I doubt if anybody ever knew him really well. He was the most secretive of men. I only saw his reserve broken down twice in some twenty-three years that I knew him.”
“Tell me, did you talk to this Miss Jones about him?”
“I mentioned him once or twice, in connection with psychic matters. I told how he had come to haunt my séance and make a nuisance of himself. Did he say anything about his dead wife, the duquesa?”
“He didn’t mention her; he was busy defending himself.”
“That has been one of his bad habits, ever since he entered the spirit world. In his life he must have brooded over the fact that the world hated and feared him, but he did nothing to remedy it. Now, when it is too late, he seems to want to be loved.”
“He said that he had provided the nations with the means of defense, never of offense. I wanted to say: ‘Nice polite little tanks!’—but of course I didn’t. He said: ‘I believed in the balance of power in Europe, and that it could be preserved by means of the open market for arms. I sold to anyone who had the price—it was a point of honor to me.’ I remember those words,” added the Deputy. “I wanted to laugh out loud.”
“I have heard him say it a hundred times,” replied Lanny. “My father used to say the same, when he was European representative of Budd Gunmakers. He picked up Bernard Shaw’s saying about the ‘Creed of the Armorer.’” To himself Lanny was thinking: “What the devil did Laurel Creston want to bring in Zaharoff for?” He decided that she must have been afraid of something, and trying to divert the conversation.
“It was an astonishingly realistic thing,” continued Hess. “You wouldn’t think that you could mistake a slight frail woman’s voice for a man’s, but I really got the impression that I was listening to that old hyena, dressing himself up in sheep’s clothing. He said: ‘You have no idea how I labored to protect all Europe during the World War. I disapproved of the airplane; it is a murderous and dreadful weapon; it will destroy the cities that I love, and I did everything in my power to save them. You owe it to me that the agreement was made against the bombing of the Briey Basin and the great plants there. And think what it would have meant to you if the industrial power of America had been turned to the making of bombing planes! They spent more than a billion dollars for that purpose, but they never succeeded in getting a single military plane into action in the war. Do you imagine that that was an accident?’
“I answered that I had always supposed it was American ‘graft,’ which is what they call their wholesale stealing. But the old rascal said: ‘What would you say if I told you that I had my agents all over the country, and that I controlled the men who got those contracts and failed to carry them out?’ Did you ever hear anything like that, Lanny?”
“I have heard hints of it, but Sir Basil never admitted anything to me. I will ask my father about it.”
“All that is ancient history,” broke in the impatient Führer. “We have new history to make now.”
“Hör’ mal nun,” replied Rudi, unembarrassed. “I have something that will interest you.”
VI
So came what the narrator described as the third act of this drama. “A new figure entered, speaking in his own voice, one that seemed to carry a smile. He said: ‘You old rogue!’ I realized that it was another man breaking into the séance; and after that it was a dialogue between those two, and the most fascinating contact with the spirit world I ever had in my life. This new man was cultured and smooth, as clever as the devil. He never raised his voice, and you could have imagined him sitting over the cognac and cigars and amusing himself with Zaharoff’s efforts to look like a hero to himself. He said: ‘You know perfectly well, old rogue, that you weren’t thinking anything about cities. You were thinking about munitions properties. You were handin-glove with the Comité des Forges, and what did those buzzards care about anybody’s property but their own?’
“‘Oh, so it’s you, Kahn!’ exclaimed the other spirit. ‘A fine one you are to talk about truth and honesty—you who sought my confidence and then betrayed it!’
“‘I never talked about you until I was certain that your policy was ruining my country, and leading us into new peril. I gave you fair warning of that.’
“So,” continued Hess, “I listened to a polite quarrel between two of the masters of the old world. You have a saying in English, Lanny—about thieves falling out.”
“When thieves fall out, honest men come into their own.”
“Well, I came into an odd lot of information this time.”
“Who is this Kahn?” demanded the Führer.
“He was Otto H. Kahn, a New York banker, one of the biggest.”
“A Jew?”
“Of course; one who came from Germany. His firm was Kuhn, Loeb and Company, one of the most powerful of the international bankers, and here he was, swapping uncomplimentary remarks with Zaharoff, who was probably part Jewish, also. Is it not so, Lanny?”
“I have heard it said, but was never sure. Zaharoff was born in Turkey of Greek parents; but I have heard him say that he belonged to whatever country he was doing business with.”
“Did you know this Otto Kahn?” inquired Hitler.
“I met him two or three times at social gatherings. He was a person of most elegant manners, and with a sense of humor as you describe him, Rudi. What had he done to incense Zaharoff?”
“It was a little vague,” replied Hess. “They were not talking for my benefit; they talked just as if they had forgotten it was a séance. I gathered that during the World War Kahn had come to Europe on business with Zaharoff, and Zaharoff had discussed frankly his attitude to the manufacture of airplanes and the efforts he was making to prevent their being used by either side in the war. Later on Kahn had reported this to a United States government investigator of the airplane scandals.”
“My father gave me a lot of inside stuff on the subject,” said Lanny. “There must have been a deal, for the French never bombed your Briey Basin, and you Germans never bombed Le Creusot and other munitions plants.”
“The steel and munitions people were all tied up together and were making money out of both sides. Naturally they wanted to come out of it with their plants intact.” That was Hess; and the Führer added, grimly: “They will find it different this time. If they go to war with me, they will discover it is in earnest.”
VII
Yes, the Führer’s mind was on the next war, and whether he was going to have it and how he was going to wage it. He was not in the least interested in the gossip of two elderly ghosts. Once more he indicated impatience: “Du schwatzt, Rudi”—you are gabbling.
But Rudi exercised the privilege of an intimate. “Jetzt pass’ mal aufund Du wirst staunen. These two spirits were very eminent persons and their secrets are important. This Jew banker accused the munitions king of having invested money in the manufacture of war planes, and the munitions king did not deny it; all he could say was that it was later on, the times had changed, he saw there was no chance of keeping the airplane out of war, and his interest was to see that all countries had an equal chance—the balance of power. Kahn laughed at that. ‘You saw where the big money was going to be made, old rascal!’ That made Zaharoff madder than ever. He said: ‘You put your money anywhere, for your own amusement, regardless of what it would do to society. You were the playboy of the New York money world; you even put up funds for Bolsheviks.’”
“Herrgott!” exclaimed Adi.
“I told you you’d be interested! It appears that Zaharoff had had a dossier on Kahn. The banker demanded to know what he was talking about, and Zaharoff said—of course I can’t remember word for word, but it was something like this: ‘You were the art lover, the dilettante! You believed in freedom of expression, and everybody having a chance to say his say! You backed a bunch of Reds in New York who called themselves the New Playwrights—’
“‘Oh, so that’s
what you mean!’ exclaimed Kahn, greatly amused.
“‘That’s what I mean!’ replied Zaharoff. ‘You thought it was funny, you thought it was entertainment—but it was impudent ridicule of every institution that our civilization is based on, it was murderous hatred of your class and the property rights of all of us!’ The banker didn’t attempt to deny it, he just laughed, and that was the way the séance came to an end. The voices faded out, and before long the woman woke up, and asked me if I had got anything worth while.”
“That is really a most curious story,” admitted the Führer.
“Sieh doch!” exclaimed the Deputy. “If there is one thing that our enemies find ridiculous, it is the idea that the international bankers and the international Bolsheviks are in alliance; they never weary of sneering at you for saying it. But here you have it, exactly as you have charged!”
“Quite true,” admitted the Führer of the Germans—but not seeming as delighted as his faithful servant had expected. “Make a note of it and get the facts,” he said. “Some day we may have need of them; but we’re not saying anything against the Bolsheviks right now. What we have to do is to get some sleep, for I have to argue with that Englishman in the morning.”
So Lanny went to his room and lay down, but it was some time before sleep came to him, even with the saying of nursery rhymes! He had been under great tension, more so than he had realized. The séance had gone marvelously, and he could find no fault with what Laurel Creston had done; but what a curious thing that she should have broken it in the middle and shied off from the Nazis to Zaharoff! Something must have caused her alarm, and he tried to guess what it could have been. Certainly it had been unnecessary, for Hess had been completely satisfied with “Fritz” and the other German spirits. Lanny tried to figure out some way that he could convey that to his friend, so that she would be reassured, and better prepared for future encounters.