"Michael Moorcock - Seaton Begg - The Case of the Nazi Canary" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

As they talked, they strolled through the passenger foyer of the great modern aerodrome. Over a dozen pairs of
steel masts held ships, or awaited vessels from all over southern and eastern Europe. The 'drome was one of Munich's
very latest monuments to municipal pride.
The weather was much improved and a warm, golden sun was reflected in the silvery hulls of the airships.
Through massing white clouds, rays of sunlight struck the distant outlines of Munich herself, her twisted gables and
glittering spires. As they reached the exit, Begg was delighted to see Dolly waiting for them at the curbside.
Dolly was Begg's massive, supercharged Duesenberg touring car, custom-made, powered by a V-12 engine tuned
to take the great automobile up to two hundred miles an hour if necessary.
Sinclair slipped discreetly into the shadows of the backseats, leaving Hess to sit next to Begg as the detective
engaged the engine and gears. With a mighty purring roar, they were soon on their way to Munich, following Hess's
precise directions. In what seemed a quixotic request, Begg asked Hess to give him a quick tour of the city and take
them to the Nazi HQ, familiarly known as the Brown House, before lunch. Knowing the ways of English detectives to
be mysterious and circuitous, Hess did not hesitate in obeying.
Sinclair had visited the city several times and had an affection for it, but Begg knew Berlin much better. He
remarked on Munich's pleasant architecture, the broad tree-lined avenues and parks, her well-appointed public
galleries and museums, her extraordinary Grimmelshausen Museum, which warned of the horrors of war, the little
landing fields, right on the edge of the city, where the autogyro buses came and went.
Hess had lived here for much of his life. He pointed out the various sights. Munich was a busy provincial
metropolis with an excellent public transport system, chiefly trams and buses, though increasingly the autogyro
companies were taking business from the main lines. As her many churches indicated, she was predominantly Catholic
by religion. Her almost Italian embrace of modernity was striking, especially since so much of her new architecture was
in the vein of Gaudi and the Viennese moderns. The Nazis, Hess informed them primly, would tear down all decadent
architecture and replace it with impressive classical designs. Meanwhile the old Bavarian capital had the baroque
quaintness usually associated with German provinces, tributes to the taste and vision of her princes and governors.
Dolly was soon purring through the old quarter of the city, making a circuit of the huge, covered market, then
driving along another avenue, sparsely occupied by large mansions and official buildings, some flying the flags of
other nations. Here Hess gave the order to stop. They had arrived at the Brown House, the N.S.D.A.P. head-quarters.
The respectable surroundings made one think twice about the party's violent image. The huge silk Nazi "hooked
cross" banners were very striking as they stirred in the faint, westerly breeze.
Once at the Brown House, Hess's status was confirmed. Smartly uniformed SA men in their odd ski-cap headgear
and brown uniforms sprang to open the doors of the car, and the three occupants were greeted with a barrage of "Heil
Hitlers" and lifted arms, as they entered the busy vestibule decorated in the very latest "Folkic" style. Bustling as it
was, the place had a mournful, depressed quality, as if everyone in it grieved for their leader's loss and feared for his
safety in the face of slander and scandal.
Now Hess became a different man. He took on the authority and manner of a high-ranking officer as he led the two
Englishmen through the simple, quasi-rustic foyer and up the low, wide staircase.
"This is the F├╝hrer's own office."
Hess guided them into a large, triangular room dominated by a portrait of Hitler himself, his hands in Napoleonic
pose, his stern, cool eyes fixed on the problems of the Nation and those who would threaten Germany's security again.
Outside there appeared to be a large amount of building work going on.
"We are making a barracks for the SA boys," explained Hess. "This place, of course, is a natural target for Sozie
attack." Sozie was the slang for Socialist, just as Nazi was slang for National Socialist. The street clashes between the
two groups had become endemic and notorious throughout Germany.
"I'd be obliged, Herr Hess," said Begg, "if you wouldn't mind telling us again exactly what you know about the
circumstances surrounding the discovery of poor Fr├дulein Raubal's body. I know you were the first party member on
the scene."
"Naturally the Winters called me first," agreed Hess. His black, bushy eyebrows twitched as if with a life of their
own. He pulled at his earlobes and, grinding his teeth, stared into a middle distance where he seemed to be looking at a
cinema screen presenting the events he described.
"Geli is Alf's ward, you know. His niece. His half sister's child. When he moved into his new apartment in