"Perhaps some are for myself." He loved haggling, so I should not give in immediately.

"You do not smoke, my dear, as I recall."

"The remaining four packs, then." I shook my head as if I'd been tricked into giving him the cigarettes, although we both knew I must have brought them all for him.

"Let me see the letter." He held out his thin ink-stained hand.

I handed him Rohm's most graphic letter, the paper, and the ink.

"You matched the paper exactly," he said. "And the ink is correct as well. It would be dangerous for the community at large were you to climb from your moral pedestal and take up my former profession."

"Attention to detail is always important."

"Care in everything one does." He began his copy work. He bent over the table, each stroke delicate and precise. It was a treat watching him work. He was an amazing artist. If I had not placed a tiny lipstick mark on the corner of the real letter, I would not have been able to tell the difference. It was only after my shoulders relaxed that I realized how tense they had been. Perhaps this would work.

"Is this about blackmail?" he asked when he had finished. "I don't read much when copying, but there are graphic details in there. Illegal too. The man is besotted. You can see it in his handwriting."

"Indeed." I folded the new letter inside of Rohm's original and slid them in the middle of the blank paper. Herr Silbert had analyzed handwriting for me before. He could divine amazing details from the letters in the simplest note.

"It's nothing to do with me," he said, bowing. "But I think I deserve a piece of the profits."

"There will be no profits," I said. "It's political."

"A politician?" He leaned forward. "A rich one?"

"A poor one," I lied. "But one who owes me a favor, now."

Herr Silbert studied me. "I never know if you are lying or not," he said. "But I can tell that this letter places you in danger. I am in prison, but I still know what is going on outside."

"This is insurance," I said. "To keep me safe."

"Fraulein Vogel." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I know I am no longer a great gentleman, but heed my words: this letter cannot make you safe. Get rid of it and any others you have like it."

He was as correct about the letters as Herr Klein had been about the ring. And I dearly wished that I could follow their advice. But I had no choice. I had to use the tools I'd been given, no matter how dangerous the outcome. I no longer had the luxury of walking away. I thanked him, but knew that I would ignore his warning.

Back at Sarah's apartment, I packed my satchel carefully. I pinned the ring to the bottom, and slid in the letters, the forged one stuffed in the middle. In the outer pocket I slipped Ernst's death photo and Wilhelm's dagger. I hid the original letter that Herr Silbert had copied from in Sarah's mailbox, along with most of my gold and money.

I thought about taking Anton to Paul's, but I knew Anton would refuse. Having no time to argue, I took him with me to Ernst's apartment, hoping Ernst's landlady could be persuaded to watch him. If everything went wrong and I were killed, she would take him to an orphanage. She was a practical sort that way. I shuddered, wishing I did not have to think in such terms.

When we reached Ernst's apartment, the landlady was outside washing the stairs. She tossed a bucket of clean water on the stairs leading to the front door and scrubbed them with a washcloth wrapped around the head of a push broom, as our maids used to. As I mopped my own floors now.

"Frau Mller," I said. "Good day."

"Hannah," she said, delighted. She adored Ernst. "Where is that brother of yours? I haven't seen him in a week or so. He's got a new friend, I'll bet." She smiled mischievously, showing the gap where her front tooth had been. I thought her a spry seventy, but Ernst thought she was a badly preserved fifty.

"I do not know," I said. "But I'd like to see if he's there now, perhaps wait a while for him."

"And who's the little one?" She glanced down at him. "Looks like you. A cousin?"

"His name is Anton," I said.

"Hello, Anton," she said. "Does Ernst expect you two?"

"He does not expect Anton," I said, and strictly speaking that was true.

"Let me get my keys." She limped back to her apartment while we followed impatiently. I knew little about her history. Ernst said she'd never been married, had no children, and no close relatives. She was a good landlady and kept the stairwells and front steps immaculate. She collected rent from most tenants on the first of the month at noon, but Rudolf always paid in advance and paid cash. He wanted no one to trace Ernst to him, I suspected.

"Thank you for letting me in," I said. "Could you mind Anton for me for a few hours? I'd like to have a private conversation."

"In trouble again, your brother?"

"Always," I said. "And little pitchers have big ears."

"The little one can stay with me," she said. "I'll find work for him."

Anton dropped to the ground and wrapped both arms around my legs. "No," he wailed. "Don't abandon me, Mother! I missed you so last time."

Frau Mller looked at me uneasily.

"It's only for a few hours." I peeled his arms off my legs.

"That's what you said last time." He cried real tears. "And you were gone for weeks and weeks."

"Weeks and weeks?" Frau Mller asked.

"He's making it up." I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Please don't leave," Anton sobbed.

I pulled him to his feet. "You will stay here," I said. "Until I come back."

He hung his head.

"I won't take him if he's going to be difficult," Frau Mller said. "Or if there's any question when you're coming back."

"I'll be back in a few hours."

"She always promises that." Anton sniffled. "But she never comes."

"I'll let you into your brother's place," Frau Mller said. "But I won't take the boy."

Frau Mller hobbled up the stairs ahead of us, her keys jangling.

I gave Anton an angry look, but he smiled smugly back as Frau Mller unlocked the door.

"I will pay you," I said. "I need privacy for this meeting."

Frau Mller looked at me suspiciously. Anton started to cry again.

I handed her ten marks and the salami I'd packed for lunch. She took Anton's hand and dragged him down the stairs.

"You can rake leaves in the back courtyard," she said. "Until she comes for you."

I waited until she was out of sight before opening the door. Ernst's apartment had been ransacked, as mine had, and I hurried through the rooms. Someone had punched a hole in the back of his armoire, torn out his clothes, and skewered a red dress covered with sequins to the bed with a kitchen knife, leaving a long tear in the mattress. A warning, as Mitzi had been. But why would they bother to warn him if they knew he was dead?

They must have visited the apartment after he left it for the last time. Ernst would not go sing at the club, drink, and go home with Wilhelm if his apartment was in this state. He would never leave his clothes lying on the floor to wrinkle.

I cleaned the worst of the mess in the kitchen to make it look as if Ernst had been back. As if he had cleaned it up. I gathered a collection of lacy underthings off the kitchen floor that made my own look like something our grandmother would have worn. My hands worked swiftly, concentrating on cleaning, trying to push my fear away. Soon it would all be decided.

I hid Rohm's ring under ashes in the stove. If he searched me, I did not want to be carrying his treasures. The letters I hid deep in the stuffing of the mattress in the bedroom. I figured that the person who had slit it would not bother to search again. I straightened Ernst's oriental carpet. It was beautiful, probably half a year's pay for me.

Ernst had no tea, so I hurried down to the grocer's to buy the strong green tea that he loved, leaving the front door ajar to get back in without disturbing the landlady. I did not want to face another scene with Anton.

I brewed a pot of tea and sat at a round, marble-topped table that used to stand in the hall of our parents' house. How Ernst had wrangled it from Ursula I could only imagine.

I folded and refolded my hands, jumping up every few seconds to polish a clean pot or sweep the immaculate floor again. I was terrified, but I dared not think about it lest the feeling envelop me and leave me unable to do what must be done to ensure my freedom and my life.

I had to be as ice cold as I'd ever been as Peter Weill to get through this alive. Rohm was a formidable adversary, but he was also only a human being, and I knew a great deal more about what was going on than he did. I could get myself through this. For Anton, I had to.

25.

Someone rapped on the apartment door. I smoothed my skirt to calm myself and opened the front door to Ernst Rohm.

He looked every bit the battered war hero. His barrel-shaped body was stocky and strong in his captain's uniform. His immaculate jacket was properly cinched into place by a wide leather belt. Shiny black hair, parted exactly in the middle, topped his square face. But what I noticed, as everyone must have, was his nose. In one of his many war wounds, shrapnel had cut through the bridge of his nose and a pink scar ran across both cheeks. It was a testament to his toughness that he was still alive. He scrutinized the room behind me with wary blue eyes. My mouth went dry. How could I fool this man?

Beside him stood the brawny lieutenant I recognized from the El Dorado and Wertheim-Wilhelm's father. Next to him stood Rudolf von Reiche. So they were connected. I had expected Rohm to arrive alone. I had no plan for discussing the letters in front of others.

"Good day, Hannah," said Rudolf. He looked ready to slap me.

I stepped back from the door. Sweat broke out on my palms. I spoke only to Rohm. "Come in and have tea. I am Hannah Vogel, Ernst's sister."

Rohm clicked his heels together and bowed. "You are the very image of him." He took my sweaty hand in his fleshy white one and kissed it like the old soldier he was. "Captain Ernst Rohm. I see that you have already met my lawyer, Rudolf von Reiche. Let me present my assistant, Lieutenant Josef Lehmann."

"Good day, Fraulein Vogel." Lieutenant Lehmann bowed his head in my direction. He did not recognize me, but I had seen him twice before; when he marched Wilhelm out of the El Dorado, and when he called off the Nazi mob in front of Wertheim.

"Is Ernst here?" Rudolf glanced around the hall. "We will not stay long."

"We will stay until that which is mine is restored to me," Rohm said simply. "As you well know."

Rudolf clamped his mouth closed. I might have laughed if the situation had not been so frightening.

"I have made tea." I led them into the kitchen and set out extra cups with trembling hands. "For I think we have much to discuss."

"Where is your brother?" Rohm asked. "I would like to see him. I do not understand why he keeps my own from me, if what Rudolf says is true."

I glanced at Rudolf. "Little of what he says is true."

Rudolf snorted. "An interesting comment, from one such as you."

Rohm held up his hand, and we both fell silent, as if he were our commanding officer.

I poured everyone tea. Rohm and his lieutenant sat, and Rudolf sat next to me.

"This is no game," Rudolf whispered in my ear, too quietly for Rohm to hear. "There are real consequences for us all."

A sharp knock sounded on the front door.

"Excuse me," I said and went to answer it. I expected no one else, but I had expected only Rohm, so what did I know of who would be attending this meeting?

Wilhelm stood outside the doorway, wearing his Nazi uniform. "I came to protect you and Ernst," he whispered. "From Rudolf."

I clutched the door frame. "You want to protect me?"

He nodded. "Both of you."

My first instinct was to tell him to go home, where it was safe. I remembered his bloody dagger found where Ernst had breathed his last.

"To protect us?" I repeated.

"Of course." He looked bewildered. He was an amazing actor.

A red handkerchief peeked out of Wilhelm's pocket. I drew it out and handed it to him. Let him hold it and think of what he'd done. Let him see the consequences today.

"Come in." I bit back my anger. "Let me get you a cup of tea."

He followed me into the kitchen, his shoulders thrown back as if he feared nothing. I smiled bitterly at the foolishness of the young. He had the most to fear from this meeting.

"Wilhelm?" Rudolf's shocked expression was wonderful to see.

"Son," said Lieutenant Lehmann. "This does not concern you. Go home."

Rohm eyed Wilhelm appraisingly, like Mother used to examine meat at the market for flaws. Finally, he smiled. "Sit, little one."

Wilhelm sat. I sat next to him.

Rohm turned his scarred face to me. "Now, Fraulein Vogel. Let me speak to your brother. He will restore that which is mine to me."

I cleared my throat. "What guarantee do I have of my safety once it is returned?" Did he want the ring or the letters?

"Has anyone threatened you?" Rohm's gaze wandered around the table before settling on Rudolf.