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‘Look, Joe, I really ought to get home. I’m off to Nuremberg tomorrow afternoon.’
Goebbels looked up into her eyes, pleadingly. ‘Are you really going to work for that awful rag?’
‘Yes…have you actually read it?’
‘I’ve seen it, if that’s what you mean. Most of it appears to be in pictures – cartoons and hideous drawings. It’s not really a newspaper, it’s just a sordid little comic.’
‘Well, it’s also a job and it’s paying quite well. I need the money. Besides, it will be fun. What about you – have you found a job yet?’
‘No.’ He stared gloomily into the middle distance.
‘Did Viktor say he’d help?’
‘He offered to read my stuff, but it’s unlikely to lead to anything.’ He paused, before adding: ‘He’s Jewish, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, both he and Leila are. What of it?’
‘You do realise the man who ownsDer Stürmerhates Jews.’
‘Well, so what?’ Minki shifted uncomfortably on her seat. ‘Leila is my best friend, andDer Stürmerprinting a few vitriolic articles won’t do anything to change that. Besides…they’re only words, aren’t they?’
Joseph studied her carefully. ‘Minki, you must know that’s not true. Words are the most important thing in the world. They are how we communicate, how we persuade, argue, reason, coerce. Words make things happen.’
‘Yes I know,’ replied Minki irritably. ‘But what I mean is that it’s just his opinion. Most of the press is run by Jews – so you could argue that he’s simply balancing things out a bit.’
Goebbels smiled. ‘That’s one way of looking at it. But, seriously…you must understand that a newspaper likeDer Stürmeris articulating what many important people in our society believe – that Jews should be eradicated from German society.’
‘People like Hitler, you mean?’
‘Him…and others.’
‘I’m hoping to be allowed to cover his trial,’ said Minki, changing the subject.
‘Won’t they give that to a more experienced journalist?’
‘Perhaps…but I suspect I can persuade Julius, my editor. Plus, I don’t think he has many “experienced” journalists on his team.’ She smiled quietly to herself.
‘Julius! Is that what you’re calling him? Have you slept with him already?’
‘No! But I have to say that, if I had, it would be none of your business. Now, I’m sorry, Joe… If you have nowhere to stay tonight, I’m sure you can squeeze onto the sofa over there with those two lovely girls. In the meantime, I’ve got to get home and get packed.’
‘Will I see you again?’
‘I expect so. Come to Nuremberg, and we’ll see…’
The following morning Minki woke to the sound of rain thrumming against the window. It matched the throbbing in her forehead. Her mouth was dry and she was desperate for water. Suddenly she recalled Goebbels trying to persuade her to let him stay the night, and had a momentary panic that she had relented. She ran her hand over the other side of the bed and was relieved to find it cool and empty.
Swinging her legs out of bed, she picked up her grey sequinned dress, which lay in a tangled heap on the floor. Folding it carefully, she laid it with a pile of other clothes, ready to be packed away in her suitcase. Pulling on her dressing gown, she wandered through to the small kitchen and surveyed the open shelves. Her only concessions to domesticity were a coffee pot, two cups and a few mismatched plates – oddments she had bought at junk shops. She would leave them all behind, she decided. Nuremberg was a new start – a chance to earn some real money and buy herself new things.
A couple of hours later, she hung up her key in the lobby of her apartment building, and went out with her suitcases to get a taxi to the station, ready to start a new chapter in her life.
8
MUNICH
February 1924
The snow that had fallen overnight had already turned to slush as Leila hurried towards the courtroom. The leaden sky cast a gloom over the city, but Leila hardly noticed the bad weather; she was filled with excitement and a sense of being part of history in the making, for today was the day that Adolf Hitler and his nine co-defendants were to begin their trial, charged with treason against the state.
