Garden of Beasts

only difficult part of Ernst’s strategy was to make certain that he got to Hitler before Göring did. But one of the techniques of warfare that Ernst was committed to in strategic military planning was what he called the “lightning strike.” By this he meant moving so quickly that your enemy had no time to prepare a defense, even if he was more powerful than you. The colonel blustered his way into the Leader’s office early this morning and laid out his conspiracy, proffering the forgeries.
    “We will get to the bottom of it,” Hitler now said and stepped away from the desk to pour himself more hot cocoa and take several zwiebacks from a plate. “Now,Hermann, what about your note? What have you uncovered?”
    With a smiling nod toward Ernst, the huge man refused to acknowledge defeat. Instead he shook his head, with a massive frown, and said, “I’ve heard of unrest at Oranienburg. Particular disrespect for the guards there. I’m worried about the possibility of rebellions. I would recommend reprisals. Harsh reprisals.”
    This was absurd. Being extensively rebuilt with slave labor and renamed Sachsenhausen, the concentration camp was perfectly secure; there was no chance for rebellion whatsoever. The prisoners were like penned, declawed animals. Göring’s comments were told for one purpose only: out of vindictiveness, to lay a series of deaths of innocent people at Ernst’s feet.
    As Hitler considered this, Ernst said casually, “I know little about the camp, my Leader, and the air minister has a good point. We must make absolutely certain there is no dissent.”
    “But . . . I sense some hesitation, Colonel,” Hitler said.
    Ernst shrugged. “Only that I wonder if such reprisals would be better inflicted after the Olympics. The camp is not far from the Olympic Village, after all. Particularly with the foreign reporters in town, it could be quite awkward if stories leaked out. I would think it best to keep the camp as secret as possible until later.”
    This idea didn’t please Hitler, Ernst could see at once. But before Göring could protest, the Leader said, “I agree it’s probably best. We’ll deal with the matter in a month or two.”
    When he and Göring would have forgotten about the matter, Ernst hoped.
    “Now, Hermann, the colonel has more good news. TheBritish have completely accepted our warship and undersea boat quotas under last year’s treaty. Reinhard’s plan has worked.”
    “How fortunate,” Göring muttered.
    “Air Minister, is that file for my attention?” The Leader’s eyes, which missed little, glanced at the documents under the man’s arm.
    “No, sir. It’s nothing.”
    The Leader poured himself yet more chocolate and walked to the scale model of the Olympic stadium. “Come, gentlemen, and look at the new additions. They’re quite nice, don’t you think? Elegant, I would say. I love the modern styling. Mussolini thinks he invented it. But he is a thief, of course, as we all know.”
    “Indeed, my Leader,” Göring said.
    Ernst too murmured his approval. Hitler’s dancing eyes reminded him of Rudy’s when the boy had shown his Opa an elaborate sand castle he’d built at the beach last year.
    “I’m told the heat might be breaking today. Let us hope that will be the case, for our picture-taking session. Colonel, you will wear your uniform?”
    “I think not, my Leader. I am, after all, merely a civil servant now. I wouldn’t want to appear ostentatious in the company of my distinguished colleagues.” Ernst kept his eyes on the mock-up of the stadium and, with some effort, avoided a glance at Göring’s elaborate uniform.
    •   •   •
    The office of the plenipotentiary for domestic stability—the sign painted in stark Gothic German characters—was on the third floor of the Chancellory. The renovations on this level seemed largely completed, though the smell of paint and plaster and varnish was heavy in the air.
    Paul had entered the building without difficulty, thoughhe’d been carefully searched by two black-uniformed guards armed with bayonet-mounted rifles. Webber’s paperwork passed muster, though he was stopped and searched again on the third floor.
    He waited until a patrol had walked down the hallway and knocked respectfully on the rippled-glass window in the door to Ernst’s office.
    No answer.
    He tried the knob and found it unlocked. He walked through the dark anteroom and toward the door that led to Ernst’s private