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Hitler was even more histrionic than Goring. "There will be no mercy now!" he shrieked. He sounded as if he were addressing a stadium. "Anyone who stands in our way will be butchered." He trembled as he worked himself up into a fury. "Every Communist functionary will be shot where he is found. The Communist deputies to the Reichstag must be hanged this very night." He looked as if he would burst.
But there was something artificial about it all. Hitler's hatred seemed real, but the outburst was also a performance, put on for the benefit of those around him, his own people and others. He was an actor, feeling a genuine emotion but amplifying it for the audience. And it was working, Lloyd saw: everyone within earshot was staring, mesmerized.
Goring said: "My Fuhrer, this is my chief of political police, Rudolf Diels." He indicated a slim, dark-haired man at his side. "He has already arrested one of the perpetrators."
Diels was not hysterical. Calmly he said: "Marinus van der Lubbe, a Dutch construction worker."
"And a Communist!" Goring said triumphantly.
Diels said: "Expelled from the Dutch Communist Party for starting fires."
"I knew it!" said Hitler.
Lloyd saw that Hitler was determined to blame the Communists, regardless of the facts.
Diels said deferentially: "From my first interrogation of the man, I have to say it is clear he is a lunatic, working alone."
"Nonsense!" Hitler cried. "This was planned long in advance. But they miscalculated! They don't understand that the people are on our side."
Goring turned to Diels. "The police are on emergency footing from this moment," he said. "We have lists of Communists--Reichstag deputies, local government elected representatives, Communist Party organizers and activists. Arrest them all--tonight! Firearms should be used ruthlessly. Interrogate them without mercy."
"Yes, Minister," said Diels.
Lloyd realized that Walter had been right to worry. This was the pretext the Nazis had been looking for. They were not going to listen to anyone who said the fire had been started by a lone madman. They wanted a Communist plot so that they could announce a crackdown.
Goring looked down with distaste at the muck on his shoes. "My official residence is only a minute away, but is fortunately unaffected by the fire, my Fuhrer," he said. "Perhaps we should adjourn there?"
"Yes. We have much to discuss."
Lloyd held the door and they all went out. As they drove away, he stepped over the police cordon and rejoined his mother and the von Ulrichs.
Ethel said: "Lloyd! Where have you been? I was worried sick!"
"I went inside," he said.
"What? How?"
"No one stopped me. It's all chaos and confusion."
His mother threw her hands in the air. "He has no sense of danger," she said.
"I met Adolf Hitler."
Walter said: "Did he say anything?"
"He's blaming the Communists for the fire. There's going to be a purge."
"God help us," said Walter.
iii
Thomas Macke was still smarting from the sarcasm of Robert von Ulrich. "Your brother wants to move up in the world, as you have," von Ulrich had said.
Macke wished he had thought to reply: "And why should we not? We are as good as you, you arrogant popinjay." Now he yearned for revenge. But for a few days he was too busy to do anything about it.
The headquarters of the Prussian secret police were in a large, elegant building of classical architecture at no. 8 Prinz Albrecht Strasse in the government quarter. Macke felt proud every time he walked through the door.
It was a hectic time. Four thousand Communists had been arrested within twenty-four hours of the Reichstag fire, and more were being rounded up every hour. Germany was being cleansed of a plague, and to Macke the Berlin air already tasted purer.
