London Dawn (14 page)

“Thanks.”

“There’s a scarf in the pocket.”

Ben tugged on the heavy jacket. “White silk?”

“Navy with polka dots.”

“What?”

“The latest thing. You’ve been in the jungle too long.”

Ben pulled out the scarf. “Maybe I should go back to the jungle.”

“Nothing wrong with it. Sturdy English manufacture. It’ll save your neck all right.”

“Maybe I should risk the skin rash.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Victoria took the long scarf and wound it about Ben’s throat. “You look smashing.”

Harrington flicked his chin at the Spitfire. “Get her up.”

Ben made his way in the stiff-legged gait his artificial legs forced on him. He got up on the wing and swung first one leg and then the other
into the cockpit. After a few minutes he began to move the plane along the airstrip. Then he opened up the throttle, the engine howled, the fighter raced over the ground, and Ben was in the air.

“Dad tells me you’re going to Berlin with him and Mum,” Victoria said as she stood by her brother and watched the Spitfire climb.

Kipp’s face tightened. “That’s right.”

“Why the long face?”

“Our old friend Buchanan is going to meet up with us there.”

“Lord Tanner? He isn’t!”

“Oh, he is. He’s dropped by with his lady friend a number of times. Offered the boys tickets to the sprints. Then Dad up and wanted the lot of us to accompany him and Mum to the Olympics. We said no, but Charles and Matt gave us no peace until we relented.”

“Didn’t you tell Dad about Tanner?”

“Of course I did. He quoted the Sermon on the Mount and said it was time to forgive Buchanan and move on.”

“I see. So you’re stuck. Dad’s asked our family along as well, you know, so at least you’ll have Ben. You won’t have to take Tanner on alone.”

Kipp’s eyes hardened. “I’ve taken him on alone before and I’ll do it again if I have to. But Ben’s welcome to whatever’s left.”

The Spitfire roared in so low and so loud that even Kipp ducked his head a bit and clapped a hand over one of his ears.

“You both must drink from the same pot of tea!” roared Harrington.

“Have you told Charles who his father is?” asked Victoria, putting her mouth close to her brother’s ear as the scream of the Spitfire engine obliterated all other sounds.

“Caroline did years ago when she and Buchanan talked about getting married. Charles hasn’t forgotten. He brought it up during one of the fights about going to Berlin. ‘He’s my father…you’re not my father…I have a right to go wherever my real father goes.’ Stalks around the house and brags about meeting up with his dad in Berlin and being introduced to Hitler and the Nazi stunt pilot at the Games. That sort of rubbish.”

“Oh, Kipp, I’m so sorry. How miserable that must be. One can only hope Charles will see Lord Tanner for who he truly is and be repulsed.”

“I do hope that. But Buchanan will be on his best behavior with such a large audience.”

They watched Ben put the Spitfire into a spin.

“Who is the Nazi stunt pilot?” asked Victoria.

“Didn’t I tell you? The trip to Berlin gets better all the time, dear sister. The pilot’s our nemesis from the Great War, Wolfgang von Zeltner.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not. It’s shaping up to be quite the show at the Eleventh Olympiad, on the track and off. I just don’t know who’s going to win all the medals, us or them.”

The Spitfire went into a steep dive, finally leveled out, and blasted over their heads again.

August, 1936

XI Olympiad, Berlin Olympic Stadium
 

“Well done!” cried Ben Whitecross as the American runner Jesse Owens ascended to the top of the podium. “That makes three gold medals. Herr Hitler will have to tear down all his swastikas now.”

Kipp stood and applauded beside him. “He won’t tear down anything. He’ll just refuse to shake the hand of a black man.”

“He isn’t shaking anyone’s hand anymore. Your father was telling me the Olympic Committee warned Hitler he had to shake the hands of all the medalists, not just German ones. He refused, and now he doesn’t shake anyone’s hand. After all, you never know which athlete is going to be a Jew.”

Kipp looked down the row to see Lord Tanner and Charles still in their seats. Matthew was up and clapping along with his cousins Ramsay and Tim and Owen and Colm. He saw his father frown at Lord Tanner and Charles, but the pair ignored everyone.

Caroline glanced at Charles, closed her eyes, and then made up her mind to clap even louder and even waved a handkerchief as blue as her eyes.

“I wish God would take that man out of my life forever,” she said to Kipp in a low voice. “He is an absolute pestilence. I’m certain he will convince Charles to move in with him.”

“He can’t force the issue without going to the courts,” replied Kipp. “And a son born out of wedlock would be a scandal laid against his name.”

“And ours.”

“I’m sure if he could devise a plan of laying it all at our door he would do it, but he can’t. So nothing will happen.”

“He can turn Charles against us.”

“I’m sure that’s his intention.”

“How will we be able to stop that?”

“Arguing with Charles won’t help the matter. He’ll just continue to dig in his heels. We shall have to take the route the Good Book advises. ‘If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat; and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink: for thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head, and the L
ORD
shall reward thee.’ ”

Caroline pouted. “I am not in the mood to be loving toward Tanner Buchanan. Or toward Charles Danforth right now for that matter.”

“ ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.’ ”

“Listen to you,” snapped Caroline, sitting down as the applause and cheering came to an end. “Are you to rival Jeremy as the family vicar?”

“Somebody has to say it. Otherwise it will be pistols at dawn in a day or two, love.”

Caroline’s face was set in sharp, dark lines. “I wish it
would
be pistols at dawn and that you’d put a silver bullet right through his wicked heart.”

Hotel suite, Berlin

“William!” Lady Preston paused before sipping from her cup of tea. “You must stop this pacing. It’s driving me to distraction. Robbie has written to say he and Shannon and Patricia are perfectly all right.”

Lord Preston held up a folded newspaper and covered his left eye with his hand. “I don’t like what I’m reading here, Elizabeth. Another uprising in Jerusalem, the brutality of the civil war in Spain…”

“William, do calm yourself. I wish you’d never put your hands on an English language paper. What is wrong with your eye?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my eye. I got a bit of dust in it at the stadium. Our navy is evacuating British tourists from Madrid and coastal resorts in Spain. Not just tourists of course but British citizens working in Spain as well. That’s something, at least. The rest of the time I feel the navy is aiding and abetting Franco and the fascists in Spain, Elizabeth. I
do wish our government would stop appeasing the fascist element every time they meet up with it.”

“Keep on that line and soon enough they will have you lumped in with poor Winston. If that happens you might as well both take up residence on some desert island for all the good you’ll do in Parliament. No one listens to Winston and soon no one will listen to you.”

“They jolly well should start listening to Winston. The Nazis will be up to all sorts of mischief once the Olympics are over. They’re already filling the skies with their planes and the sea with their ships.”

Lady Preston poured fresh tea into her cup. “If your line of reasoning is correct, we’ll curry favor with Hitler just as we have with Mussolini and Franco. So what’s the point of wagging your finger at Prime Minister Baldwin? He’ll simply turn his back on you.”

“My heavens, we already are currying favor with Herr Hitler. Why, we even let some of their
Luftwaffe
chaps poke around our aircraft factories back home. And I’m certain the
Reichstag
is not backing the Jews when it comes to Palestine, yet we say nothing to them about it.”

She leaned back in her seat. “You’re getting much too excited, William. The grandchildren are having a marvelous time here. Don’t spoil it for them.”

Lord Preston continued to read the newspaper, his hand still over his eye. “Hm? Spoil it for them? Charles doesn’t look too badly off. The next thing you know he’ll be trying to grow some hair on his upper lip.”

Lady Preston made a face. “Don’t talk rot. It’s not as bad as all of that. Our family is having a splendid visit to Berlin. It’s not like it was five or six years ago. Herr Hitler got rid of those nasty Brownshirts, didn’t he? So I say bravo for him and his Third Reich.”

Just down the hall in another set of rooms, Charles was laughing and telling Kipp and Caroline and Matthew about meeting Hermann Goering, Wolfgang von Zeltner, and other Nazi celebrities.

“Herr Goering was an ace during the war and he introduced me to von Zeltner, who was also an ace, and Ernst Udet, who shot down almost as many planes as Richthofen.” Charles tugged an empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “They autographed this for me.”

“Kipp was also an ace in the war,” Caroline said quietly. “For the British side.”

“They didn’t know him, but they knew Uncle Benjamin. And sides don’t matter. They said that.”

Kipp looked up at him from his chair. “So did you go up with one of them?”

“I went up with von Zeltner in his stunt plane and then I flew with Herr Udet in his. Both were absolutely brilliant.”

“They both took you up?” asked Kipp, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, they treat Dad like a prince or something. ‘Lord Tanner’ this and ‘Lord Tanner’ that. I’m going to meet Herr Hitler this evening.”

“The family is dining together this evening,” Caroline reminded him. “Your grandmother and grandfather are taking everyone to a fine restaurant on the river.”

Charles shook his head. “I’ll have to bow out, I’m afraid. There will be plenty of opportunities to dine with the family in the future but few to dine with Adolf Hitler. Unless I attend school here in the fall.”

“Attend school here?” Caroline’s eyes flared. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“My father—he has so many connections.”

“Your
father
is my husband, Kipp Danforth. He has been the only father you’ve known. And no one has discussed you taking a year’s schooling in Berlin.”

“I could even finish here. And then enroll at a German university.”

“It’s out of the question, Charles.”

“If I want to, mother, you must let me. It’s true I love you very much. But there comes a time when a man is called upon to be a man.”

“Who has been filling your head with such nonsense? You’re just fifteen.”

“I’m old enough to know what I want.”

“You don’t have the language skills to attend school in Berlin.”

“Father would get me a tutor.”

Caroline’s face darkened. “What have you two been doing? Hatching schemes behind my back?”

“We only began to discuss this today and yesterday.”

“I won’t permit it.”

Charles’s eyes began to burn. “I’ll do as I wish. I’m not a child.”

Caroline turned on Kipp. “Don’t you have anything to say? He’s your son as well as mine.”

Kipp gazed at Charles until the young man glanced away.

“Apparently not.” Kipp nodded with his chin. “What’s that sticking out of your pocket, Charles?”

“What?” Charles looked down. “It’s nothing. A gift from Herr Goering. You wouldn’t understand.”

“It looks like one of those armbands.”

“Oh, Charles,” groaned Caroline. “Not a Nazi armband.”

His face flamed. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. Don’t worry. I won’t wear it around the house. It’s a keepsake. Nothing more.” He stuffed it farther into his pocket.

“The Hitler Youth are marching tonight,” said Kipp. “Do you plan to join them?”

Charles glared but did not reply.

That evening Lord Preston kept an appointment with Baron von Isenburg at a sidewalk table in front of the hotel. The baron was wearing his black SS uniform.

“Are you sure you want to meet out in the open like this?” asked Lord Preston, taking a chair.

“It’s the best way, believe me,” responded the baron. “They expect to see us together. The intention is I recruit you as a good friend of the Third Reich, one who will look to our interests in the British Parliament. If we were to meet in secret, the Gestapo would be suspicious.”

“So what game are you playing now?”

“The same game I was playing before. Pretending to be a Nazi. Pretending to be SS. All the while looking for an opportunity to overthrow this regime.”

“You had me fooled. You had all of us fooled.”

“I’m sorry to have stung so many with my actions. But everyone had to be convinced or it wouldn’t have worked.”