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And the next morning he actually broke into a sweat when a servant delivered von Heurten-Mitnitz’s card:
HELMUT VON HEURTEN-MITNITZ BRIGADEFÜHRER SS-SD
The Foreign Ministry Berlin
On the back of the card was written:“May I suggest the drawing room at 9:30? von Heur
ten-Mitnitz.”
The Baron, a large-boned, florid-faced man, whose thinning hair was cut so short that the veins in the skin over his skull were visible, was kept waiting until 9:40 before von Heurten-Mitnitz showed up.
The formal drawing room was not a pleasant place. The furniture was old (but not good), heavy, and comfortless. There was one well-worn and colorless Persian carpet. And dark portraits of barons past adorned the walls. The Baron elected to stand rather than torture himself on any of the chairs or couches.
“How good of you to find the time for me, Herr Baron,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, offering his hand.
“How may I be of service, Herr Brigadeführer?” the Baron asked, laying the card von Heurten-Mitnitz had sent him on a table. The act was meant to look casual.
“Oh, God, did I send you one of those?” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, chagrined. “I didn’t mean to. I usually send them to people who are impressed with that sort of thing. I would much prefer, if you don’t mind, that you forget that Brigadeführer title. My association with the SS-SD is hardly more than an official fiction.”
“As you wish, of course,” the Baron said. “What should I call you?”
“If it would not be presumptuous, my Christian name is Helmut. And let me emphasize this is by no means an official interview.”
“What, may I ask, is on your mind, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz?”
The moment he laid eyes on the Baron, von Heurten-Mitnitz decided that arrogance lay at the core of von Fulmar’s personality (he was, in other words, a scarecrow in fine clothes). The only way to handle such arrogance was to “wear” greater arrogance. If he tried to fence delicately, von Fulmar would perceive it as weakness: He had to knock him off balance straight off. And there was one good way to do that:“I wondered if by chance you have been in touch with your son,” von Heurten-Mitnitz asked.
The Baron’s face tightened. “I have not,” he said firmly.
“I was referring, Herr Baron, to your eldest son,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, as if he wanted to be absolutely sure they were talking about the same person.
“I presumed you were,” the Baron said.
“He’s been a bit of a problem for you, hasn’t he?” von Heurten-Mitnitz said, making it more of a challenge than an expression of sympathy.
“Until just now, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz,” the Baron said, “I was under the impression that his case had been considered at the highest levels, and that it had been decided I could not fairly be held accountable for my son’s actions.”
Von Fulmar was challenging von Heurten-Mitnitz’s right to ask questions. But the Baron’s bluster was hollow. A well-connected Party member can get away with reminding a Foreign Ministry functionary that he has access to the “highest levels,” but that is as far as he would dare challenge a Brigadeführer SS-SD.
“The subject, regrettably, has come up again,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said coldly. He gave that a moment to sink in, then added, more kindly: “And I have been asked to look into it. Confidentially and unofficially, as I said.”
“God, now what has he done?” the Baron asked. “I presume you know the basic facts?”
The bluster was more than a little diminished.
“I think it would be best if you repeated them to me in your own words,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “If you wouldn’t mind?”
“You didn’t respond when I asked what he’s done now,” the Baron said.
“That’s not really germane,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
“My father sent me to America,” he said,“to study electrical engineering at the University of Southern California, in Los Angeles.”
"Why do you think he did that?” von Heurten-Mitnitz asked.
“In my day, a son went to school where his father sent him. I was first at Marburg for four years. And then my father sent me to Los Angeles. He felt that would be best for me, and I did not question it.”
“I was sent to Harvard, actually,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said with compassion in his voice. “I found it quite difficult to adjust to.”
