AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Lloyd thought this was a rather tough line to take with a fourteen-year-old, but Werner was a match for her. "My father doesn't really believe in Nazism, but he thinks Hitler is good for German business."
Wilhelm Frunze said indignantly: "How can it be good for business to throw thousands of people into jail? Apart from the injustice, they can't work!"
Werner said: "I agree with you. And yet Hitler's crackdown is popular."
"People think they're being saved from a Bolshevik revolution," Frunze said. "The Nazi press has them convinced that the Communists were about to launch a campaign of murder, arson, and poison in every town and village."
The boy with Werner, who was shorter but older, said: "And yet it is the Brownshirts, not the Communists, who drag people into basements and break their bones with clubs." He spoke German fluently with a slight accent that Lloyd could not place.
Werner said: "Forgive me, I forgot to introduce Vladimir Peshkov. He goes to the Berlin Boys' Academy, my school, and he's always called Volodya."
Lloyd stood up to shake hands. Volodya was about Lloyd's age, a striking young man with a frank blue-eyed gaze.
Frunze said: "I know Volodya Peshkov. I go to the Berlin Boys' Academy too."
Volodya said: "Wilhelm Frunze is the school genius--top marks in physics and chemistry and math."
"It's true," said Werner.
Maud looked hard at Volodya and said: "Peshkov? Is your father Grigori?"
"Yes, Frau von Ulrich. He is a military attache at the Soviet embassy."
So Volodya is Russian. He speaks German effortlessly, Lloyd thought with a touch of envy. No doubt that comes from living here.
"I know your parents well," Maud said to Volodya. She knew all the diplomats in Berlin, Lloyd had already gathered. It was part of her job.
Frunze checked his watch and said: "Time to begin." He went up onstage and called for order.
The theater went quiet.
Frunze announced that the candidates would make speeches and then take questions from the audience. Tickets had been issued only to Social Democratic Party members, he added, and the doors were now closed, so everyone could speak freely, knowing they were among friends.
It was like being a member of a secret society, Lloyd thought. This was not what he called democracy.
Walter spoke first. He was no demagogue, Lloyd observed. He had no rhetorical flourishes. But he flattered his audience, telling them they were intelligent and well-informed men and women who understood the complexity of political issues.
He had been speaking for only a few minutes when a Brownshirt walked onstage.
Lloyd cursed. How had he got in? He came from the wings: someone must have opened the stage door.
He was a huge brute with an army haircut. He stepped to the front of the stage and shouted: "This is a seditious gathering. Communists and subversives are not wanted in today's Germany. The meeting is closed."
The confident arrogance of the man outraged Lloyd. He wished he could get this great oaf in a boxing ring.
Wilhelm Frunze leaped to his feet, stood in front of the intruder, and yelled furiously: "Get out of here, you thug!"
The man shoved him in the chest powerfully. Frunze staggered back, stumbled, and fell over backward.
The audience were on their feet, some shouting in angry protest, some screaming in fear.
More Brownshirts appeared from the wings.
Lloyd realized with dismay that the bastards had planned this well.
The man who had shoved Frunze shouted: "Out!" The other Brownshirts took up the cry: "Out! Out! Out!" There were about twenty of them now, and more appearing all the time. Some carried police nightsticks or improvised clubs. Lloyd saw a hockey stick, a wooden sledgehammer, even a chair leg. They strutted up and down the stage, grinning fiendishly and waving their weapons as they chanted, and Lloyd had no doubt they were itching to start hitting people.
He was on his feet. Without thinking he, Werner, and Volodya had formed a protective line in front of Ethel and Maud.
