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“Yes…”

“I did not see it; my apologies. A comedy, was it?”

She shook her head. “A drama. Herr Wise thought I should start with something like that.”

“ Herr Wise knows his business. I understand the film was a success – or at least successful enough. Both here and then in Europe. In Berlin, even the Reichminister went to the theater and saw it. He likes to go out among the people, now and then. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that he found the film to be… very moving. He was quite caught up in your performance. I sat a few seats away from him, and I saw him lean forward, every time your face was on the screen, as though he wished he could somehow transport himself right into the scene with you.” The consulate official’s smile showed tolerant amusement. “I find it remarkable how powerfully these films affect even the strongest-willed man. But then that is your magic, Fraulein Helle, is it not? That is why it is your face on the screen, and not that of another woman.”

She said nothing. The mention of Joseph’s name, the way the consulate official had spoken it, had trapped her, incapable of moving. She could only wait, to hear what came next.

The official poked at the still-burning stub in the ashtray, watching the thread of smoke rise. “It is, in fact, upon the Reichsminister ’s instructions that I have come here, Fraulein Helle.” He leaned back in the armchair, regarding her through the cage of his fingertips placed together. “In his capacity as overseer of the German film industry, he wishes to extend an invitation to you. I was instructed to be as discreet as possible in this matter, while at the same time conveying to you the utmost seriousness in which the offer is made. That is why I came to see you in this manner. Privately, as it were.”

Marte forced her words past the stone that had lodged in her throat. “What does he… what does the Reichsminister want?”

“He wants you, Fraulein Helle.” The consulate official spoke without smiling this time. “Not for himself, of course – the Reichsminister is a man of honor and duty. But for the German nation, and the Volk whose blood is in your veins. He wishes you to return to Germany – immediately – and resume your film career there. But not as another mere actress, one among the many at the UFA studios. No, you would be the queen of the German cinema. Those are exactly the words the Reichsminister used – die Konigin des deutschen Filmes. This is an extraordinary thing, Fraulein Helle. To no woman before has such an invitation been made. You would be the most highly honored and glorified actress upon the screens of the German theaters – and more than that; in all the theaters of the world.”

The man’s words had pressed her back into her chair, as though he had placed his outspread fingertips against her breast and pinned her there. “I don’t… I don’t know if I want that…”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “To be seen by all men, to be admired, desired by them? What actress – what woman – doesn’t want that? Perhaps it is something else.” His narrow gaze pierced her. “Perhaps it is that you do not wish to leave your comfortable home, your coddled life here in America. Though I can assure you that the sacrifice of returning to Germany would be in your case a very small one. The Reichsminister would see to that a heroine such as yourself would suffer no… privations, as it were.” The word had twisted in his mouth, as though it were a sour taste on his tongue that he wanted to spit out.

“I don’t want to leave…” There were no secrets that she could conceal from him. “I’m… I’m safe here…”

“Yes, of course you are. To go from this land of peace and return to a homeland that is now at war… a war pressed upon Germany by the conspiracy of its enemies… you find that prospect frightening; I understand that.” The consulate official’s voice turned softer, feigning kindness. “But do you really think, Fraulein Helle, that this refuge you have found here will last forever? This is a war not just between nations, or even between ideologies, but a war between one blood – the pure Aryan blood of heroes – and that of the mongrel races who would destroy it. Do you think America can avoid being drawn into that final conflict?”

“David… Herr Wise told me… he said that America wouldn’t go to war…”

“ Herr Wise is a clever man, isn’t he? A very clever… Jew.” The consulate official’s voice darkened with a withering contempt. “And of course, for Jews there never are wars; they find others to fight them, and to die in them. Herr Wise and his breed stay safe in their counting houses until all is quiet again, and then they go out onto the battlefield to pluck the bits of gold from the dead and dying. Germany and France and England have gone to war, and all the other nations of Europe, and yet it is always der ewige Jude who has won.” The official’s face grew heavy with brooding. “Your clever Herr Wise may have a surprise in store for him this time, however. This time, the war will come to the Jews, and they won’t escape.”

He wasn’t Gestapo, she knew that now. A note of fervor had entered his voice, a shrill pitch like a wire tightened to the breaking point. He was SS, disguised in a well-cut double-breasted suit of nubbly brown wool instead of a black uniform shiny with polished leather and steel death’s-heads, but Schutzstaffel nonetheless. One of the true believers, not a simple follower of orders such as the soldier who’d fathered her child, but a disciple of that new dark faith, his visage honed to a knife’s edge by the rendering heat of all that he carried in his heart.

“ Fraulein Helle.” The consulate official watched and judged her. “Do you not think you owe a duty to your own country, the one in which you were born? If there were even a little true German blood in your veins -” He knew, he had to know; everything, all of her secrets. “If there were even a red drop of that blood, you might find it within you to listen to its wisdom. Let the blood decide what you should do.”

She imagined this was how she would be spoken to by a priest, severe and black-clad, a raven with burning eyes. “I… I can’t…” Marte shook her head slowly. “I don’t know…”

“We are well aware of other factors that might influence your decision. To stay here or to return to Germany.” The consulate official’s voice turned harsher and colder. “It is common knowledge that your relationship with Herr David Wise is more than a professional one. It is a tribute to the influence he wields in the motion picture industry, that mention of your affair with him has been kept out of the gossip columns. It is a tribute to the understanding and forbearance of Reichsminister Goebbels, that he is prepared to forgive your involvement with this man. In an industry so unfortunately dominated by Jews, the pressure would be overwhelming for an attractive Nordic woman to allow herself to be pawed and fondled by such a creature, and then paraded through restaurants and night clubs as an ornament to his swaggering pride.” The venom of the consulate official’s loathing, that he had kept hidden at the premiere when he had shaken David’s hand, now tinged his voice. “It is precisely from such disgusting racial predations that the Reichsminister wishes to protect you. From the Jew’s lust for all that is fair and pure, everything that he and his degenerate race can never be. Though of course -” The consulate official’s mirthless smile returned. “I will not pretend to you that Goebbels’ interest in your affairs is purely ideological in nature. This is a matter of some personal importance between you and him, is it not? A resumption of that role you previously played in his life, before the wiles of the American Jew took you away from him.” The smile widened. “Of course, that is why you may be assured of not only your safety upon your return home, but also the exalted position you will be given – the choice of roles, the lavish production budgets, the luxuries befitting your stature. I doubt that you will miss at all the comforts and splendor of your life here.”