Philip Kerr - The Lady from Zagreb

“Does Josef know? About my father.”

“Of course. He sent me down here to tell you and bring you back to Berlin. Or at least to persuade you to turn up to work at the studio.”

“Well, I had to try. Or rather, someone did. You do see that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Believe me, nothing could be more understandable. With your mother dead, it makes perfect sense that you should have wanted to find your father again.”

“After all, it was she who fell out with him, not me. A father is supposed to mean something. Even one you haven’t seen in an age.” She took another fierce drag at her cigarette. “I thought I’d be more upset. But I’m not. Does that strike you as a bit strange?”

“No, not really. After all, you must have suspected he was dead, given that your previous letters were never answered.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“And it strikes me that you’re no worse off than you were before. At least you know now. For sure. You can put it all behind you and get on with the rest of your life.”

“There is that to think about, yes.”

“What will you do? About the movie, I mean.”

“I don’t really know. If I come back to Berlin, then perhaps I can see you, of course. That’s on one side. To be quite frank with you, Bernie, you’re the only good reason I have for going back to Germany now. On the other side’s the fact that I don’t particularly want to work on this stupid movie with Veit Harlan. I can’t imagine it’s going to do my career any good in the long term to make a movie with a notorious anti-Semite like him. It’s bad enough that I was in The Saint That Never Was . I just know I’m already going to have a hard job living that one down. There’s that and the fact that Josef Goebbels wants to make me his mistress. Believe me, he’ll do his damnedest to find a way to make that happen. He’s devious and unscrupulous and you’ve no idea the trouble I’ve already had keeping that little Mephisto from conjuring me out of my underwear. It’s one of the reasons I came here. To escape from him.”

“I’ve a pretty shrewd idea of what he’s capable of. I’ve been subject to quite a bit of pressure myself, angel.”

“Yes, I suppose you have.”

“In fact, you don’t know the half of it.”

“Maybe not. But look, there’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know that it’s very important in the scheme of things. But I’ve fallen for you, and in a big way. While you were away in Croatia I thought about you day and night.”

“Me too.”

“And it’s no different now that you’re back. I’m having a hard job keeping a smile on my face.”

“Stefan doesn’t know about us, does he?”

“No. But suspicion of every man I know is his default state of mind. Even when there’s absolutely nothing in it.” She wound down the window and dropped her cigarette onto the gravel. “Yes, you heard what I said. Oh, don’t look so shocked, Bernie. You’re not exactly my first lover. Where does it say that women must behave one way and men the other? What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Besides, according to Josef’s telegram, you’re the one who just got married. When were you planning to tell me? In bed this afternoon? Or did it just slip your mind?” She laughed and took my hand. “I’m not in the least bit angry, darling. After all, I’m hardly in a position to lecture you on your morals. Although I am a bit jealous, perhaps. It’s true what I said about falling for you. Under the circumstances that sounds so much more of an insurable risk than saying ‘I love you.’ Although that would also be a tiny bit true.”

“My marriage. It’s not what you think.” I was feeling slightly wrong-footed at the frankness of both of her admissions.

“I think it probably is, you know. Most people usually get married for the same two reasons. Stefan married me for love. That’s one reason. But I married Stefan because he was rich and because it made me a baroness. That’s the other. He knows that. Before we got married I told him I would take the occasional lover and he seemed quite sanguine about that. In the beginning, anyway. With the exception of arranged marriages and dynastic alliances between two royal families, that probably exhausts the explanations for most modern marriages. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I doubt that even King Henry the Eighth has ever encountered the reason I got married,” I said, and told her about Kirsten, her problem with the SD, and how Goebbels had blackmailed me into marrying her.

“That’s the most romantic thing I ever heard,” she said plaintively. “I take it all back. I thought men like you only existed in stories that involve round tables and shining armor. You really are a saint, do you know that?”

“No, it’s just that sometimes I have to do saintly things to balance things up a bit.”

She made a fist and shook her head. “Christ, what a shit that man is. You know, I really don’t think I will go back to Germany. Not for him and his stupid film. Someone else from UFA can do it. One of those bottle blondes in the chorus he’s always screwing.”

“Don’t say that. The fact is I’ve fallen for you, too. And my chances of coming back to Switzerland before this war is over are about as slim as my chances of surviving it unscathed.”

“Now it’s my turn to object to your choice of words.”

“It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. The Russians are going to make certain of that.” I shrugged. “But what about your career? You’re a movie star. You’d really give that up?”

“I told you before. I’m really not that interested in acting. I’d rather study mathematics. I can still take up that place at Zurich Polytechnic. And what’s going to happen to anyone who’s involved with the German film industry when the Russians turn up?”

“You have a point there.”

“There’s this to consider, too. If I go back. Which I seriously doubt I will. Goebbels wouldn’t be nearly so understanding of my foibles as my husband. If I did get involved with Josef, or if he found out that you were an obstacle to his having a relationship with me, he could make your life very unpleasant, Bernie.”

She seemed to have thought of everything.

“It would be worth it,” I said.

“No, my love,” she said. “You don’t know what you’re saying. But look, maybe love will find a way. And we still have Zurich and this afternoon. In your hotel room at the Baur au Lac. What could be more romantic? Now that you’re here, please, Bernie, please, I beg you, let’s make the most of it.”

I drove slowly away from Küsnacht feeling both elated and depressed. Elated at the idea that Dalia loved me, and depressed at the realization that seeing her in Germany was going to be so problematic, if not impossible. She was right, of course. I could hardly blame her. What woman in her right mind would have voluntarily put herself in danger of becoming Mephisto’s mistress? But I certainly wondered what I was going to tell Goebbels when I was in his office once more. And it was clear to me that he was not going to be pleased when he learned that his favorite actress was refusing to return to Berlin. I could still hear his words, telling me to bring her back at all costs. Carl Jung would have had a difficult job persuading Dalia to change her mind.

I drove into Zurich thinking I would probably have to send Goebbels a telegram advising him of the outcome of my meeting with Dalia. Maybe he could think of something that would bring her back to work. More money, perhaps. That was something all movie actresses seemed to understand very well. It was said that Marlene Dietrich had been paid $450,000 by Alexander Korda to star in his film Knight Without Armour . Surely Dalia could have commanded just as much as Dietrich. She was certainly more beautiful. And her films were more popular, too. At least they were in Germany.