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“He’ll be our next reichspräsident,” said Gerlich. “You mark my words. By pure force of will, he will win. And then there will be no stopping him. He will indoctrinate the nation with his hatred and plunge us into war, internally and externally.”
Bauer held much the same opinion, but hearing someone else say it aloud was validating. He’d spent the better part of the last week trying to pry information from witnesses who were either unwilling or afraid to stand up to Hitler.
Bauer took another sip of his beer and glanced around the room again, checking if anyone was paying them particular attention. “Four newspaper offices were ransacked and torched in the last forty-eight hours,” he said. “If you’re such a crusading journalist, why were you spared?”
“I don’t know how spared I was,” said Gerlich. “I received a visit from Himmler. He fired a bullet about an inch over my head. His storm troopers ransacked my pressroom.”
“He didn’t torch it, though?”
Gerlich chewed on his lip. “The newspapers they attacked were of smaller circulation. It was a warning to the rest of us. But they’ve threatened my publisher already. I’m getting pressure to cut back on my ‘anti-Hitler bias.’ I am now required, for the first time, to run my editorials past my publisher.”
“Sorry for your troubles.”
“Well, it won’t be for long, Inspector. I’m going to start a new periodical. I’m calling it Der Gerade Weg.”
“The Straight Path?”
“Yes. And then I will be free to say whatever I want to say. It’s the only thing I know to do, Bauer—shine as much of a spotlight on Hitler as I can before it’s too late.”
Bauer wondered—was Gerlich the real deal? Was this bow-tied, spectacled intellectual really going to stand up to the thuggish Nazis?
Bauer checked his watch. He had to leave. “Look, Gerlich, do you have any proof that Hitler killed Geli?”
Gerlich’s expression dropped. “I’m working on a source. I’m doing what I can. When I know more, you’ll know more. But that’s not the important question.”
“No? What is?”
“The important question is, what are you going to do with the information, Bauer? The case has been closed. Your boss has warned you off the case. That hamster of a justice minister will never sign off on an arrest, much less a prosecution. So what is a mid-level cop like you going to do?”
Bauer moved out of his seat and stood, buttoning his coat. He leaned into Gerlich. “Whatever it takes,” he said. “I will do whatever it takes.”
20
Bauer residence
Oberföhring
“BUTTON ME, PLEASE.” THOMAS Bauer’s wife, Amalie, turned her back to him. He buttoned up her blue dress. “You’re wearing a tie?”
“I thought I would. Need to impress the in-laws, right?”
She turned to him and reached for the tie. “Well, at least tie a decent knot, then.” She pulled it apart and retied it. “You’re like a child.”
“You clean up pretty nice, Frau Bauer. And you tie a perfect tie.”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Is that sweet-talking supposed to make me forget that you were late tonight?”
He shrugged and checked his tie in the mirror. “I had to make a quick stop after work.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?”
He laughed. “Probably not.”
“Might this concern a certain investigation that you’re not supposed to be investigating?”
“Mom! I can’t find my shoes.”
They both rolled their eyes. It was Maxine, their six-year-old.
