Five Past Midnight - James Thayer [108]
"And there's another reason." Hitler again sipped the tea. "I have nowhere to go."
Dietrich said nothing.
"Our enemies believe we have a fortress in the Bavarian Alps, an enormous fortified redoubt where we will defend ourselves once Berlin falls. Where crack Waffen-SS troops are waiting. Where I will flee once the enemy appears at the city's gates." Hitler paused. "There is no such place."
An orderly appeared at the door with a fistful of messages on paper of three different colors. "My Führer. Dispatches."
Hitler waved him away.
Dietrich was immensely flattered. And angry once again.
"Do you believe in fate, Inspector?"
"I've not given it much thought, sir."
"One day during the Great War when I was eating dinner with other soldiers in a trench, I heard a voice in my ear. It said, 'Go over there, quickly.' It was so insistent — much like an officer barking an order — that I obeyed automatically, moving twenty yards down the trench. And just then a deafening report came from behind me. A shell had burst over my comrades, sitting there eating from their tins. All of them were killed. Fate spoke to me that day. Fate spared me."
"Yes, sir."
"I believe in fate, and my fate is tied with my city, Inspector." Hitler lightly rubbed the side of his chin. "I will never leave Berlin." Another small smile. "And there's that other factor: I have nowhere to go."
"Yes, sir"
"Do you know the story of Leonidas at Thermopylae?"
"Of course, sir."
"And Horatius at the bridge?"
"Yes."
"The lesson of these great men is of the power of the will. The will conquers all."
"Leonidas died at Thermopylae, sir."
"Don't ruin my story, Inspector." Another quick smile. "The Reich's resources are diminishing by the hour. Yet my will must prevail."
"Yes, sir"
"And for that to happen, I cannot meet my end at the hands of an assassin."
"Yes, sir"
"As I said, Inspector, I think like an enlisted man. And here is another example of it. It would never occur to an officer to personally thank his men. But an enlisted man knows the power of gratitude. I asked you here to thank you." Dietrich stared at the leader.
One more smile. "And to encourage you to work a little harder."
"I will, sir. Work harder."
Hitler struggled to rise from the chair. Dietrich resisted the urge to rush to him to help, to put a hand under his arm to help him up. What happened to those who dared to touch the Führer?
Using the seat back for support, Hitler moved to the desk. He opened a side drawer to pull out a gilt picture frame. He held it out to Dietrich
In the frame was a photograph of Hitler. Dietrich gingerly accepted it.
Hitler said, "My health is poor, Inspector."
"Yes, sir."
"It will be much poorer if that American gets near me."
"Yes, sir."
Hitler escorted Dietrich back into the conference room. "Good-bye, then And send Keitel in. My meeting with him won't be as pleasant as this one, I assure you."
Minister Goebbels blocked the door into the hallway. He gripped a piece of paper in both hands. His smile was wrapped around his bony face, so wide it seemed to hang from his ears. He fairly danced on his one good leg. "My Führer, Roosevelt is dead."
Hitler's eyes widened. He inhaled quickly, his breath hissing. "Roosevelt? Dead?"
"Dead." Goebbels was trembling with the news, the dispatch shaking in his hand.
"By God, we are saved, Goebbels." Hitler's voice rose like a storm. "The Reich is saved." He breathed heavily. The news straightened his backbone and put color into his face. He slapped a fist into a hand, then again and again.
Dietrich moved to step around Goebbels, but Hitler arrested him with a gaze. "Detective, do you know of Empress Elizabeth? What her death meant to the Fatherland?"
"Yes, of course." Once again Dietrich tried to step around Minister Goebbels. Christ, he wanted out of here.
But Hitler grabbed his sleeve. "In 1761, Frederick and fifty thousand soldiers were surrounded by Russian