Upton Sinclair - Dragons’s teeth

A letter from Kurt, begging them to drive to Stubendorf in this very lovely season of the year. Kurt had no car, and couldn’t afford the luxury of hopping about; but Seine Hochgeboren had told him that any time Irma and Lanny would come, the Schloss was at their disposal. Lanny hadn’t told Kurt about Freddi. Now he was discussing whether to do it, and what to say, when the telephone rang, and he heard the voice of Oberleutnant Furtwaengler: "Herr Budd, I am happy to inform you that the government is prepared to release Johannes Robin."

Lanny’s heart gave a thump. "That is certainly good news to me, Herr Oberleutnant."

"It is still your plan to drive him and his family to Belgium?"

"Whenever I am free to do so."

"You have the other members of the family with you?"

"I know where they are—at least, all but one of them. I am sorry to report that I have not heard from the son, Freddi, for a long time."

"You have no idea where he has gone?"

"Not the slightest."

"Why didn’t you let me know this?"

"I have been thinking that I would surely hear from him, and I didn’t want to bother you or the Minister-Präsident. I was sure that if he was a prisoner of the government, he would be released along with his father."

"I cannot say anything about it, because I do not know the circumstances. An investigation will have to be made. What do you wish to do about the others in the meantime?"

"I wish to take them out as soon as I am permitted to do so. I can come back for Freddi if you find him."

"There would be no need for you to come unless you wished. We will surely send him out if we find him."

"Very well. Shall I call at the Polizeiprasidium for Johannes?"

"That will be satisfactory."

"You understand that we wish very much to avoid newspaper reporters, especially the foreign correspondents. For that reason it would be wise to leave as quickly as possible."

"We shall be pleased to co-operate with you to that end. We have the passports and exit permits ready."

"Does that include the visas for Belgium?"

"Everything has been foreseen. We do things that way in Germany."

"I know," said Lanny. "It is one of your great virtues."

"I bid you farewell, Herr Budd, and hope to have the pleasure of seeing you when you again visit Berlin."

"The same to you, Herr Oberleutnant. I am grateful for your many courtesies through this somewhat trying affair."

"Not at all, Herr Budd. Allow me to say that your handling of the matter has been most exemplary, and Seine Exzellenz wishes me to assure you of his sincere appreciation."

So they buttered each other, and clicked heels and bowed and scraped over the telephone; when Lanny hung up, he turned to his wife and said: "Chuck your things into the bags and we’ll get going!"

He hastened to call the home of Rahel’s parents, and she herself answered. "Good news," he said. "Papa is to be released at once and I am going to get him at the prison. Is Mama far from you?"

"A ten-minute drive."

"Call a taxi, take the baby and your bags, pick up Mama, and come to the Hotel Adlon as quickly as you can. Irma will be waiting for you. We are leaving at once. Is that all clear?"

"Yes; but what—" He hung up quickly, for he knew she was going to ask about Freddi, and he didn’t care to impart this news. Let Mama have the painful duty!

Lanny drove to the great red brick building on the Alexanderplatz. Many who entered there had not come out as quickly as they had hoped; but he with his magical American passport would take a chance. He discovered that the well-known German Ordnung was in operation; the officer at the desk had received full instructions. "Einen Moment, Herr Budd," he said, politely. "Bitte, setzen Sie sich."

He gave an order, and in a few minutes Johannes was brought in. Apparently he had been told what was going to happen; he had got a shave, and appeared interested in life again. The odds and ends of property which he had had upon his person were restored to him; he signed a receipt, bade a courteous Lebewohl to his jailers, and walked briskly out to the car.

Lanny had the painful duty of knocking this newborn happiness flat. "Painful news, my friend. Freddi has been missing for two weeks, and we have no idea what has become of him." The poor father sat in the car with tears streaming down his cheeks while Lanny told about the last meeting with Freddi, the arrangements which had been made, and the dead silence which had fallen. Lanny couldn’t bear to look at him—and had a good excuse, having to drive through busy traffic.

He explained his decisions, and the heartbroken father replied: "You did what was best. I shall never be able to tell you how grateful I am."

"I’m only guessing," Lanny continued; "but I think the chances are that Göring has Freddi and intends to keep him until the scandal will no longer be news. Our only chance is to comply strictly with the terms of the understanding. It seems to me the part of wisdom for us to tell no more than we have to, even to the family. The less they know, the less trouble they will have in keeping secrets."

"You are right," agreed the other.

"I think we should say we feel certain that Freddi is a hostage, and that, since he is some day to be released, he is not apt to be mistreated. That will make it easier for them all to get over the shock."

"I will tell them that I have had an intimation to that effect," said Johannes. "Anything to get Rahel quieted down. Otherwise she might insist upon staying. We must take her at all hazards, for she can do nothing here."

When they got to the hotel they found that Mama had already imparted the news, Irma had confirmed it, and the young wife had had her first spell of weeping. It wasn’t so bad, for she had made up her mind for some days that the worst must have happened. Her father-in-law’s kind "intimation" helped a little; also Lanny’s promise to keep up the search. The determination of the others to get her and her child out of Naziland was not to be resisted.

It wasn’t exactly a fashionable autoload which departed from under the marquee of the Adlon Hotel. The magnificent uniformed personage who opened the car doors was used to seeing independent young Americans driving themselves, but rarely had he seen three dark-eyed Jews and a child crowded into the back seat of a Mercedes limousine about to depart for foreign lands. Both Lanny and Irma were determined to finish this job, and not let their periled friends out of sight until they were safe. In the breast pocket of Lanny’s tan linen suit were stowed not merely the passports of himself and wife, but a packet of documents which had been delivered by messenger from the headquarters of Minister-Präsident Göring, including four passports and four exit permits, each with a photograph of the person concerned. Lanny realized that the government had had possession of all the papers in the Robin yacht and palace. He remembered Göring’s promise of a "kick in the tail," but hoped it was just the barrack-room exuberance of a Hauptmann of the German Air Force.

The family were not too badly crowded in that rear seat. The three adults had each lost weight during the past weeks; and as for luggage, they had the suitcases they had carried away after Johannes’s arrest; that was all they owned in the world. As for Little Johannes, it was no trouble taking turns holding him in their laps; each would have been glad to hold him the entire time, until they had got him to some place where the cry of Juda verrecke was unknown.

Irma and Lanny meant to go as they had come, straight through. Lanny would buy food ready prepared and they would eat it in the car while driving; they would take no chance of entering a restaurant, and having some Brownshirt peddling Nazi literature stop in front of them and exhibit a copy of Der Stürmer with an obscene cartoon showing a Jew as a hog with a bulbous nose; if they declined to purchase it, likely as not the ruffian would spit into their food and walk away jeering. Such things had happened in Berlin, and much worse; for until a few days ago these peddlers of literature had gone armed with the regulation automatic revolver and hard rubber club, and in one cafe where Jewish merchants had been accustomed to eat, a crowd of the S.A. men had fallen upon them and forced them to run the gantlet, kicking and clubbing them insensible.