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

people they had just met.
"Many people, Sir Seaton, have no idea what a marvelous entertainer Alf is. He used to keep us in fits of laughter
on those long tours. He could impersonate anyone. Pompous innkeepers, party officials, intense old maids, famous
politicians! He could have gone onstage as a comedian if he had not been chosen to lead his people."
Hess recollected the question. "Well, the hotel sent a boy after Herr Hitler's car, and when he got the message Alf
almost collapsed. Everyone says it was completely unexpected. Indeed the first words from his lips, I understand, were
'Who has done this?' He had the car turned, his appointments canceled, telephoned me the first chance he got, and
came back at once to Munich. It was my suggestion I next call the Munich Police Headquarters and he assented. And
then I sent you a telegram. My staff arranged your tickets and so on."
"The police weren't suspicious concerning the time you waited before telephoning them?"
"I explained that I myself had been in a state of some shock after seeing poor Geli's body." He paused and then
looked with a strange, new innocence into Begg's face. "I know I am a suspect, Sir Seaton, but I seek peace and
security and pride from the Nazi Party, not violence. This is what most of us in Germany want. The thought of killing a
mouse makes me sick. The thought of killing some poor, foolish creature who had been flattered and cajoled into
waters well above her natural depth, that is abominable. You must not judge us all by those who 'goose-step' through
the main streets of our towns with banners and bludgeons. Yet remember those poor lads were boys when they went
to war, and what they saw in the trenches and learned to do in the trenches never left them, especially when they
found they had no jobs. ..."
Rudolf Hess continued this apologia all the way to the flat in Prinzregensburgstrasse, an imposing modern
classical building built on the corner of a broad, quiet avenue. Hitler's flat was on the second floor. It was light, airy,
and luxurious in a subdued, up-to-date way. Doors led in several directions from the main vestibule, suggesting
servants' quarters and guest apartments. Certainly there was every way in which Hitler, his half sister, and niece could
live together in such a flat very respectably indeed.
Minutes later, Sir Seaton was interviewing Herr and Frau Winter themselves. The couple had found Geli on the
carpet in her bedroom, only partially dressed, as if she had been disturbed at her toilet.
The Winters were clearly shaken by what had happened. At that moment Frau Winter resembled a bewildered
mole, in her gray cardigan, gray blouse, skirt, and stockings. This dour appearance was not, Begg guessed, natural to
her. Herr Winter's features, on the other hand, seemed habitually surly, yet his voice was agreeable enough. Neither
man nor woman was of very high intelligence. They both confirmed, under Begg's questioning, that Hitler and his
niece had quarreled increasingly as his political career made demands on his time. But the party needed Hitler.
"Even I have fallen under his oratorical spell," said Winter seriously. "It is almost impossible to escape his charm
when he wants something from you. Crowds love him. Without him the party would be lost. But as a result, he spent
even less time with Geli. You couldn't really blame her. She grew restless; he grew jealous."
"He had plenty to be jealous about, too," Frau Winter interjected with an angry twitter. "She was not a good girl,
Sir Seaton."
Herr Winter reluctantly conceded. "I think she had plenty of company when Herr Hitler was gone. In particular
that tall, blond SS man who wanted her to run off to Vienna with him . . . Himmler's chap."
"You saw them?" Begg demanded.
"Just as we saw the whips and the blood after one of Herr Hitler's 'sessions,'" she said primly.
"Whips?" asked a startled Begg. "Blood?"
Herr Winter interrupted hastily, too late to silence his wife. "It was Herr Hitler's way of relaxing. He carries heavy
responsibilities. It is often the way with important men, not so? We are people of the world here. We all know what
goes on in Berlin."
Having verified with the Winters the events of the recent past, Sir Seaton Begg thanked them gravely and made to
leave. Taffy Sinclair in particular seemed glad of some fresh air.
Back in the Duesenberg, Begg asked a further question of Hess. "Tell me, old boy, did Herr Hitler ever have his
niece watched? And was he ever blackmailed?"
"Aha! I knew I had approached the right detective. You realized. Unfortunately, since the blackmail, he's grown
suspicious of everyone. Yes, he did have a couple of SA men in plainclothes keeping an eye on her, but they were
incompetent. Himmler wanted to use SS people. He thinks they're more efficient. So yes, he watched her, but you can't