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“I regret that you find it embarrassing, Herr Baron,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “That is not my intention.”
"Obviously, he has been up to something shameful, or you would not be here,” the Baron said.
“You were explaining to me how he came to Switzerland,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
“The school in Iowa was only a primary school,” the Baron said. “But my son became friendly with a classmate, the son of the headmaster, in fact. When it was learned that this classmate was to attend a school for gymnasium-aged boys in Massachusetts, we decided my son should go with him.”
“Do you happen to recall the headmaster’s name?” von Heurten-Mitnitz asked, fishing.
“As a matter of fact, I do. He took it upon himself to send copies of the boy’s grades to me. And an invitation to his graduation. His name was Canidy. The Reverend Dr. Canidy.”
“I see,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
It wasn’t much, and he had no idea what it meant, but the OSS agent who had dealt with Fulmar in Morocco was named Canidy.
“Is that important?” the Baron asked, sensing that the name had somehow clicked in von Heurten-Mitnitz’s mind.
“No. But odd details sometimes take on importance.”
“As I was saying, my son was next sent to a school, St. Mark’s, in Massachusetts. He was there two years. I was again approached by a representative of Continental Studios, this time directly. A very young and very brash young Jew. He had gone to Harvard, I must tell you.”
“Then he must have been a very bright, as well as a very brash, young Jew, Herr Baron,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
“He explained to me that in order to preserve my ex-wife’s public reputation, it had been decided to send the boy out of the United States.”
“To you?”
“No. What he said was that Max Liebermann, who owned Continental Studios, wanted the best possible education for the boy. It turned out, by the way, that the young Jew lawyer was Liebermann’s nephew.”
“Was his name Liebermann?”
"No, Fine,” the Baron said. “Stanley S. Fine.”
“Go on,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.
“It was put to me that Die Schule am Rosenberg, in Switzerland…”
He looked at von Heurten-Mitnitz, who nodded to show he knew about "Rosey.”
“… was the sort of place where Eric belonged,” Fulmar went on. “Fine solicited my influence in getting him admitted.”
“And did you use your influence to do so, Herr Baron?”
“Yes, I did. After consulting with some friends of mine in the Party, and with, of course, the Baroness.”
“Officially or unofficially?”
“At first unofficially, and then officially. It was necessary to settle the question of whether or not the boy was Aryan.”
“And?”
“My former wife is descended on both sides from good, solid, Silesian peasant stock. My son is unquestionably Aryan.”
“And how does that affect his standing in the Almanac de Gotha?”
The Almanac was a quasi-official publication listing royal and noble bloodlines.
The Baron gave him an icy look.
