The Kingdom of Shadows (14 page)

She hadn’t even told David any of these things, the true secrets. How could she risk it? If he were to stop loving her, stop wanting to possess her; if he were to turn away from her in disgust . . . what would she be then? If she couldn’t see herself reflected in the mirror of his eyes, or up on the screen of the films he made . . .

She didn’t know. Perhaps nothing at all. Like a shadow that vanishes when a harsh light is switched on, leaving a room empty at last.

“
Fraulein
Helle?”

The consulate official’s voice brought her back from her dark thoughts. She looked up and saw his simulation of kind concern.

“I think you misjudge my intentions here.” Somehow, he had peered inside her skull; he had to be
Gestapo
, they knew how to do that. “It would not be my wish – or anyone’s – to do that which would damage your career. Your success, the image on the world’s theater screens of such a beautiful and pure Nordic racial type as yourself –” His thin smile crept out again. “That is a great source of pride to the Reich’s guardians of culture. I have just recently returned from our native land, from Berlin. I had some interesting discussions with
Reichsminister
Goebbels. Whom I believe you’ve met, and spoken with, before your own departure?” The smile became even more insinuating. “I can assure you that the
Reichsminister
continues to take a lively interest in your performances. The first film you did for the Wise Studios – what was it?
August and September
, if I recall correctly. Something like that,
nicht wahr
?”

“Yes . . .”

“I did not see it; my apologies. A comedy, was it?”

She shook her head. “A drama.
Herr
Wise thought I should start with something like that.”

“
Herr
Wise knows his business. I understand the film was a success – or at least successful enough. Both here and then in Europe. In Berlin, even the Reichminister went to the theater and saw it. He likes to go out among the people, now and then. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that he found the film to be . . . very moving. He was quite caught up in your performance. I sat a few seats away from him, and I saw him lean forward, every time your face was on the screen, as though he wished he could somehow transport himself right into the scene with you.” The consulate official’s smile showed tolerant amusement. “I find it remarkable how powerfully these films affect even the strongest-willed man. But then that is your magic,
Fraulein
Helle, is it not? That is why it is your face on the screen, and not that of another woman.”

She said nothing. The mention of Joseph’s name, the way the consulate official had spoken it, had trapped her, incapable of moving. She could only wait, to hear what came next.

The official poked at the still-burning stub in the ashtray, watching the thread of smoke rise. “It is, in fact, upon the
Reichsminister
’s instructions that I have come here,
Fraulein
Helle.” He leaned back in the armchair, regarding her through the cage of his fingertips placed together. “In his capacity as overseer of the German film industry, he wishes to extend an invitation to you. I was instructed to be as discreet as possible in this matter, while at the same time conveying to you the utmost seriousness in which the offer is made. That is why I came to see you in this manner. Privately, as it were.”

Marte forced her words past the stone that had lodged in her throat. “What does he . . . what does the
Reichsminister
want?”

“He wants you,
Fraulein
Helle.” The consulate official spoke without smiling this time. “Not for himself, of course – the
Reichsminister
is a man of honor and duty. But for the German nation, and the
Volk
whose blood is in your veins. He wishes you to return to Germany – immediately – and resume your film career there. But not as another mere actress, one among the many at the UFA studios. No, you would be the queen of the German cinema. Those are exactly the words the
Reichsminister
used –
die Königin des deutschen Filmes
. This is an extraordinary thing,
Fraulein
Helle. To no woman before has such an invitation been made. You would be the most highly honored and glorified actress upon the screens of the German theaters – and more than that; in all the theaters of the world.”

The man’s words had pressed her back into her chair, as though he had placed his outspread fingertips against her breast and pinned her there. “I don’t . . . I don’t know if I want that . . .”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “To be seen by all men, to be admired, desired by them? What actress – what woman – doesn’t want that? Perhaps it is something else.” His narrow gaze pierced her. “Perhaps it is that you do not wish to leave your comfortable home, your coddled life here in America. Though I can assure you that the sacrifice of returning to Germany would be in your case a very small one. The
Reichsminister
would see to that a heroine such as yourself would suffer no . . . privations, as it were.” The word had twisted in his mouth, as though it were a sour taste on his tongue that he wanted to spit out.

“I don’t want to leave . . .” There were no secrets that she could conceal from him. “I’m . . . I’m safe here . . .”

“Yes, of course you are. To go from this land of peace and return to a homeland that is now at war . . . a war pressed upon Germany by the conspiracy of its enemies . . . you find that prospect frightening; I understand that.” The consulate official’s voice turned softer, feigning kindness. “But do you really think,
Fraulein
Helle, that this refuge you have found here will last forever? This is a war not just between nations, or even between ideologies, but a war between one blood – the pure Aryan blood of heroes – and that of the mongrel races who would destroy it. Do you think America can avoid being drawn into that final conflict?”

“David . . .
Herr
Wise told me . . . he said that America wouldn’t go to war . . .”

“
Herr
Wise is a clever man, isn’t he? A very clever . . .
Jew
.” The consulate official’s voice darkened with a withering contempt. “And of course, for Jews there never are wars; they find others to fight them, and to die in them.
Herr
Wise and his breed stay safe in their counting houses until all is quiet again, and then they go out onto the battlefield to pluck the bits of gold from the dead and dying. Germany and France and England have gone to war, and all the other nations of Europe, and yet it is always
der ewige Jude
who has won.” The official’s face grew heavy with brooding. “Your clever
Herr
Wise may have a surprise in store for him this time, however. This time, the war will come to the Jews, and they won’t escape.”

He wasn’t
Gestapo
, she knew that now. A note of fervor had entered his voice, a shrill pitch like a wire tightened to the breaking point. He was SS, disguised in a well-cut double-breasted suit of nubbly brown wool instead of a black uniform shiny with polished leather and steel death’s-heads, but
Schützstaffel
nonetheless. One of the true believers, not a simple follower of orders such as the soldier who’d fathered her child, but a disciple of that new dark faith, his visage honed to a knife’s edge by the rendering heat of all that he carried in his heart.

“
Fraulein
Helle.” The consulate official watched and judged her. “Do you not think you owe a duty to your own country, the one in which you were born? If there were even a little true German blood in your veins –” He knew, he had to know; everything, all of her secrets. “If there were even a red drop of that blood, you might find it within you to listen to its wisdom. Let the blood decide what you should do.”

She imagined this was how she would be spoken to by a priest, severe and black-clad, a raven with burning eyes. “I . . . I can’t . . .” Marte shook her head slowly. “I don’t know . . .”

“We are well aware of other factors that might influence your decision. To stay here or to return to Germany.” The consulate official’s voice turned harsher and colder. “It is common knowledge that your relationship with
Herr
David Wise is more than a professional one. It is a tribute to the influence he wields in the motion picture industry, that mention of your affair with him has been kept out of the gossip columns. It is a tribute to the understanding and forbearance of
Reichsminister
Goebbels, that he is prepared to forgive your involvement with this man. In an industry so unfortunately dominated by Jews, the pressure would be overwhelming for an attractive Nordic woman to allow herself to be pawed and fondled by such a creature, and then paraded through restaurants and night clubs as an ornament to his swaggering pride.” The venom of the consulate official’s loathing, that he had kept hidden at the premiere when he had shaken David’s hand, now tinged his voice. “It is precisely from such disgusting racial predations that the
Reichsminister
wishes to protect you. From the Jew’s lust for all that is fair and pure, everything that he and his degenerate race can never be. Though of course –” The consulate official’s mirthless smile returned. “I will not pretend to you that Goebbels’ interest in your affairs is purely ideological in nature. This is a matter of some
personal
importance between you and him, is it not? A resumption of that role you previously played in his life, before the wiles of the American Jew took you away from him.” The smile widened. “Of course, that is why you may be assured of not only your safety upon your return home, but also the exalted position you will be given – the choice of roles, the lavish production budgets, the luxuries befitting your stature. I doubt that you will miss at all the comforts and splendor of your life here.”

“But . . . I don’t understand,” said Marte. “He sent me away before. He told me I had to leave . . .”

“A man may change his mind, yes? Especially when the circumstances change. Germany is at war now; it is besieged by both international Jewry and Bolshevism. The
Führer
has weightier matters with which to concern himself,
Fraulein
Helle. The movement of armies, a military strategy that takes in half the globe – these are the things that receive his attention. And if I may say so, the
Reichsminister
has learned something of the art of discretion. He and his wife Magda, the mother of his children – they both have taken it upon themselves to foster the morale of the nation by preserving the appearance of their marriage. So many good, trusting Germans look up to them; it would be cruel to shatter their illusions. And those who tried to, those envious, whispering voices who carried scandal to not only the ear of the
Führer
, but to the professional gossip-mongers as well . . .” The consulate official shrugged. “The
Reichsminister
has succeeded in dealing with such as those. Silence can be purchased, with coin of one kind or another. If the
Reichsminister
now finds that he has a personal debt to certain forces, certain people . . . that doesn’t matter. It’s a small price to pay. And he has paid it on
your
behalf,
Fraulein
Helle. That is what you must remember.”

She felt herself growing dizzy as she listened to the man, as though the ground itself were being drawn from beneath her feet. The night filled the windows of the house, the darkness wrapping tightly around the brass lamp’s glow. The things the consulate official spoke of, the ways of the land from which she had come so far . . . just hearing of them made her feel both nauseous and frightened. She seemed once more to be walking down a hallway of apartment doors, walking slowly as she did in dreams and memory, toward the one door that stood open, with the broken, overturned furniture and papers scattered across the floor on the other side, her mother and father gone . . .

Silence could be bought. With a small red coin, shiny enough for her to look down and see her face reflected in it, in the string of red coins that trailed into the corridor, the last of them soaking dark into the fibers of the worn carpet runner.