Tempting Fate (59 page)

“This is a different matter.” Helmut kept from grinding his teeth with an effort of will.

“Because you are involved in it?” Ragoczy inquired sardonically. “I am afraid that I don’t wish to put my entire household in jeopardy because of a local political squabble. You will probably find that reprehensible, but—”

“You don’t understand!” Helmut burst out. “You don’t understand at all. You’ve been watched because of your friendship with that Jew Schnaubel. I am trying to give you the chance to make yourself less endangered. There are those who are not pleased to learn that you were the one who aided the man to sell his house, and took care of the transaction. There is a man in Berlin who expressed to me his great displeasure at what he had learned of you.”

Although Ragoczy felt himself go cold, he kept his appearance of faintly condescending politeness. “What business is it of anyone in Berlin?”

Helmut began to pace around the room. “You’re being stubborn, Herr Graf. You are refusing to look at the situation in an unbiased manner. You are letting yourself be led by persons who are without honor. You behave as if none of this can touch you, but I warn you now that you will find it is otherwise. We are not simply a group of discontented radicals given to street-corner oratory and beer-hall brawls. Our men do not all come from the army, or from the unemployed, but from very high places, to those you would not believe. In defying me, you anger them, something a man in your position cannot afford to do. You had best heed my warning, because—”

The door opened unexpectedly and Roger came into the room bearing a tray. “The food you requested. I am sorry it took so long.” He carried the tray to the brass-topped table by the window. “Excuse me, Mein Herr, but would you prefer wine or beer? We have an excellent Mosel from Burg Landshut.”

Helmut glared at the manservant, but at last he barked out a response. “It makes no difference to me. Bring me either.” He had wanted to turn down the offer, but with the food already in the room, such a refusal would be ultimately boorish, and any opportunity he might have to talk sense to this obdurate foreigner would be lost.

“I think the Mosel would please you more,” Roger said calmly before he left the room.

“Now, Herr Ragoczy…” Helmut recommenced once the door was safely shut.

“Do have something to eat, Herr Rauch. You may harangue me later, if you wish, but if you do not taste the food, I will have to sustain two lectures today; one from you and one from my chef.” He gestured to the table, and stood aside so that Helmut would have easy access to it.

“I am not particularly hungry…” he said stiffly.

Ragoczy shook his head. “You must make some effort. My chef is Italian, and for him, cuisine is a matter of honor.”

There was no gainsaying that affable, charming, determined man. Helmut was in his house without proper invitation and was being received with full hospitality. If he failed with this man, he would earn a great deal of displeasure from the Bruderschaft. That thought settled in his guts like a lump of hot coal. The Bruderschaft was not forgiving. So he muttered a few words of thanks and sat down at the table, studying the fare on the tray. At least, he thought with ponderous humor, if he had to be condemned, he would indeed have a hearty last meal. As he reached for a long, thin roll, he looked at his host in surprise. “You are not going to join me, Graf?”

“Alas, I fear it isn’t possible for me to eat all the fine food Enzo prepares. I hope you will excuse me.” He bowed slightly and took his seat in one of the chairs nearby, close enough to the table to allow conversation, far enough away that it would not embarrass Helmut to eat. He was about to say something more when Roger returned with the bottle of wine, which he opened with a flourish.

“Will there be anything else, my master?” Roger asked when he had poured out the first glass for Helmut.

“No, that is all: thank you, Roger.” His manner was unruffled, but there was concern and anger at the back of his dark, penetrating eyes. He sat back and waited for Helmut to speak again, all the while wondering how much he dared say to this zealous, inflexible guest.

Text of a letter from Professor Isidore Riemen to Dag von Freigrundstück of I. G. Farben.

Breitnau

March 10, 1925

Dag von Freigrundstück

Hotel Hartenburg

Mainz

My dear Dag:

Your office told me this note would reach you at this address, and so I have written at once, assuming that if for some reason this does miss you, it will find you at the end of your holiday. I, too, have taken some time to myself, as you can see from my heading. Of late, things have begun to go well, so that I have decided that a little time to myself is not going to force me to return to a complete disaster.

The work, as I told you in November, is going far better than I had expected. Without Graf Ragoczy we would not be nearly so far advanced. It is a pity that the man will not consent to working with you directly, but he has told me many times that over the years he has preferred to work alone, in his own unorthodox ways. You know what the old hochgebornen are, and he is one of the worst of them; not at all like you, Dag, and your sensible ways.

The formulae you have requested have been sent to Farben by messenger, and as soon as you are back at work, you will have the chance to examine our results. As I have warned you in the past, there is nothing so concrete here that you can at once begin to issue new shares in the division, but I believe that we are moving much closer to a workable synthetic fuel. It is Ragoczy’s belief that we should also devote time to making a more efficient fuel for aeroplanes. Apparently he agrees with the American General Mitchell, that aeroplanes are the wave of the future. I have been cautious about this, but I take this opportunity to mention it to you now, in case you wish to give the matter your consideration. Certainly there are more aeroplanes about that need fuel, but compared to automobiles and trucks, it is the merest dot on the graphs. I do agree with Ragoczy, however, that improved fuels for aeroplanes mean improved range and load capabilities, and so I do not dismiss the matter out of hand.

A sad matter about President Ebert. So young—only fifty-three. But I imagine that the last few years have each been a decade to him, what with all he has had to bear with. The dissatisfaction in this country is most discouraging. I see it every day in my students, and I wonder what will become of them when they are my age, and faced with the responsibilities of maturity.

I realize you are concerned about the possibility of charges being brought in regard to Antonia von Fritsch. I have discussed the matter at length with her uncle, and he now realizes that it was all a misunderstanding. It is true that I enjoy the attentions of little girls, but what man of our years does not? Let me assure you that it appeared much worse than it was. The child is to be sent away to school next year, by the way, and so the gossip, if any, should end with that. You need not be concerned that there will be any unpleasant repercussions regarding this event.

Ragoczy and I have recently discussed the insecticides being manufactured in the United States. He believes that circumspection is advisable because of the hazard that is present in any poison. While his caution is laudable, I think that it would not be unwise to experiment. Crop losses to insects are staggering, and if there is a way to preserve more foodstuffs, then it must be considered as much a priority as political stability.

Speaking of political stability, Ragoczy mentioned in passing that one of the more radical political groups in Bayern, the NSDAP, has been giving him some trouble. Nothing serious, of course, but a man of that sort does not wish to be troubled by malcontents. There is apparently a man associated with the
Völkischer Beobachter
who has made importunities of Graf Ragoczy, who has pointed out that he cannot align himself one way or the other, as he is not Deutscher. You have friends who can mention this unfortunate situation, haven’t you? I would hate to see this man move to France or Italy because he has found our countrymen less than hospitable to him. We cannot afford to be deprived of his abilities, or turn them over to our enemies. He believes that at the moment we lead the world in biochemistry, and if this is so, it would be wise to keep so excellent a scientist with us. For all his peculiar methods, he has more skill and understanding than most men achieve in a lifetime.

Let me know what you think of the formulae and I will devote myself to expanding the applications as soon as I return to my laboratory.

I hope that your holiday is as pleasant as my own. You know, there is nothing so stimulating as a long walk in the country, seeing the mountains in their first color. It is cold, but that is simply more stimulation. In the summer one is lethargic, but with spring making its first appearance, I am met each day with some new miracle, and I find life coming back into my soul.

Most cordial regards,

Isidore Riemen

5

Laisha ran down the steps of the palazzo, shouting with delight. “Oh, Papa, it’s
beautiful!
”

Ragoczy got out of his new silver-blue Isotta-Fraschini Tipo 8A and held the door open for her. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do!” She reached him and fell laughing into his arms. “You said you would have a surprise, but I didn’t think it would be
anything
like this.”

“Well, you insisted that you wanted to ride home in style.” He ruffled her hair, which had recently been cut into one of the newer modes, so that two wings of hair framed her face and stopped just below her earlobes. She was wearing new clothes as well, very stylish in the
garçonne
cut introduced to fashion the year before by a young modiste called Coco Chanel. Her jacket had a boyish collar, and her skirt, falling only ten inches below her knees, was pleated and embroidered at the hem. In another few years, Ragoczy thought with a little sadness, she would be ready for her social debut.

She put her hand in his and beamed at him. “Papa, Papa, you are simply magnificent!”

“Mille grazie,” he said. “Now, tell me what you have been doing all morning.”

“I have been to il teatro municipale, which is quite beautiful. I like Verona, but I didn’t think I would at first. When you decided to come here, I was not very happy about it.” She said this in a rush, as if he might not have been aware of her sulks and pouting when they left Venezia.

“So it’s all for the best?” he asked with some amusement as they started up the steps.

“Probably. Only now, I don’t want to leave for Paris, so I’ll probably pout all over again.” They entered the palazzo side by side and she nodded toward a large bouquet of flowers. “Those are from the Cabrinis. Aren’t they pretty?”

“They certainly are,” Ragoczy said wryly, thinking of the family’s oldest son, who was clearly smitten with Laisha and found a constant variety of excuses to send her presents. “I suppose Gaetano brought them.”

“Naturally,” Laisha said pertly. “He always brings them.”

Ragoczy was silent for a bit as they walked through to the central, flower-filled courtyard. “You know, Laisha,” he said quietly, “you find his attentions flattering and amusing, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But I think you don’t realize how deeply he feels about you. Don’t laugh at him, no matter how foolish he may seem to you. There is nothing foolish about love.”

She sighed theatrically. “But when he comes here, telling me that the night has been a thousand years because he has not seen me, well, what can I do? It’s
ridiculous!
”

“I knew a woman once, a very brilliant and capable woman, who was not pretty, although she was made of beauty, if you cared to look for it. No one ever said to her those things that you dismiss, and her soul was parched with need for them.” He frowned distantly, remembering Ranegonda in her stark, cold keep.

“Did you say things like that to her?” Laisha asked shrewdly.

“Only twice. The first time, she was gruff with me, and it took me a while to understand that she wanted such words so much that she could not admit her longing even to herself.” He stopped and looked at an orange tree which stood in a tub near the small fountain in the courtyard. “The Romans had an arrangement not unlike this, with the atrium in the center of the house. At first they were closed rooms with a good-sized hole in the ceiling to let in light, but later, they became more Greek, turning into peristyles, courtyards like this one.” His villa in Rome had had two atria, which was most unusual.

“About the woman,” Laisha said. “What became of her?”

Ragoczy looked away. “I was hoping to turn the subject.”

“You initiated it,” was her rejoinder.

“Yes; I did.” He moved a few steps away from her, disquieted by the strength of feeling her memory could evoke in him after more than a thousand years. “There was famine, and because of it, there were riots. She was killed in one of them.”

“Oh,” Laisha said, suddenly very serious. “I see why you did not want to tell me.” At that moment she looked very young, like a lost child instead of a grown girl on the edge of womanhood.

“My own emotions had something to do with it,” Ragoczy admitted. “You don’t need to think…” He gave a turn of his hand. “My child, what I wanted to tell you is that love, welcome or unwelcome, is still love.”

“All right,” was her guarded response.

“Tell me, do you like Gaetano?” He started toward one of the side doors, motioning her to come with him.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sometimes I do. Occasionally he treats me as if I were a ten-year-old, and completely ignorant of the world, which I am
not.
” Her indignation sharpened her tone and lent fire to her eyes. “Besides, he’s only seventeen and hasn’t been anywhere. He likes Mussolini, too. I don’t understand how anyone can do that.”