60
THOMAS BAUER, FRITZ GERLICH, and Erich von der Haas sat silently in the rented flat, as they listened to the meeting across the street break up. Gerlich was busily scribbling notes on a pad of paper, shaking his head all the while.
“Good God,” Gerlich whispered.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” said von der Haas.
It wasn’t unexpected, but hearing it stated as fact, as a blueprint for government policy—
“Print it,” Bauer said to Gerlich, realizing that his voice was trembling with anger, with fear, with something. “Print all of this in your newspaper.”
“I’ll run a special edition.” Gerlich got to his feet and grabbed his coat.
“Fritz,” said Bauer, “what are you hearing about Hitler becoming chancellor?”
Gerlich shrugged. “We aren’t hearing much from Berlin.
Schleicher is trying to form a coalition government.
I would imagine he wants to appease the National Socialists, but he despises Hitler and the Nazis almost as much as President von Hindenburg does.
Everything slowed down over the Christmas holiday.
My guess is we won’t see any real action in Berlin until mid-January. ”
Gerlich left. Bauer leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Long live President von Hindenburg,” he mumbled. “And long live Chancellor von Schleicher.”