Page 26 of The German Mother

‘Talk about making an entrance – almost as good as yours,’ muttered Leila.

Minki smirked. ‘Thanks for keeping my place, darling.’

‘No problem – cutting it fine, as always,’ Leila whispered back. ‘Butyoulook very well. I love the outfit! You look like a movie star.’

Minki preened visibly. ‘I bought it specially – important to stand out, I think.’

Suddenly there was a murmur, as Hitler entered the court. The spectators craned their necks to get a good look at him.

‘Good God… he looks like a travelling salesman,’ whispered Minki, ‘dressed in that ghastly suit.’

She giggled quietly to herself, but Leila didn’t join in. She was too busy studying Hitler’s face and demeanour. He showed no fear; in fact, he was poised, calmly scanning the room with his bright blue eyes, as if acknowledging his supporters. His gaze travelled up to the gallery, taking in the spectators, and then along to the journalists. For a second, it seemed to Leila that he locked eyes with her – a cold blue stare that caused her to shiver involuntarily. She was relieved when the prosecutor, Hans Ehard, began to read the indictment.

The defendants would be charged with high treason, he announced, singling out Hitler as the ‘soul of the whole undertaking’. His evidence against Hitler went on for so long – nearly two hours in total – that the spectators began to nod off, and even the press lost interest and gazed into the middle distance.

By mid-morning, just as the audience were readying themselves for the case for the defence, the chief prosecutor, Ludwig Stenglein, leapt to his feet and demanded the case be held in private. ‘It is a threat to national security and public order,’ he declared. The spectators woke up from their daydreaming, and the journalists began to scribble frantically in their notebooks.

The courtroom was cleared and Minki, Leila and the others were led downstairs, and into a press room at the end of a long corridor.

‘I don’t understand,’ Leila whispered to Peter, ‘why does the prosecutor want the trial held in private?’

‘Because he realises that having journalists and the public in the courtroom gives Hitler a platform. The prosecutor can’t stop Hitler speaking up for himself, or interrogating witnesses – that’s his right under German law – but he can deny him an audience.’

Minki, who was leaning against the wall lighting a cigarette, turned her gaze on the young American journalist. ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Leila. ‘Minki Sommer, this is Peter Fischer. He’s here covering the trial for theNew York Times. He’s borrowing a desk at thePost.’

‘How lovely to meet you,’ drawled Minki, taking Peter’s hand. To Leila’s surprise, he blushed.

Two hours later, Neithardt emerged from his chambers to announce his decision: ‘The trial is to be public.’ Proceedings would begin that afternoon.

‘Hitler won, then,’ murmured Peter, when they heard the news.

‘It was inevitable, I’m afraid,’ said Edmund. ‘Neithardt was never going to allow a private hearing. He knows this is the perfect opportunity for Hitler to put his case to the world.’

Martin Gruber had now settled himself at a table in the press room, and laid out his notebooks. ‘Edmund, shall we make a start on tomorrow’s lead?’

‘Do you want my notes?’ asked Leila.

‘No, Leila, it’s all right,’ replied Martin. ‘You go and have some lunch. We’ll see you later.’

Outside the courtroom, journalists and members of the public poured out, all keen to have lunch before the afternoon session.

‘There’s such a crush,’ said Leila. ‘We’ll never find somewhere with a table to spare.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Minki, taking Peter by the arm. ‘There’s a little place I know. The owner is a bit of a fan…’

Minki guided the group to a little bar in the backstreets. It was full, but Minki pushed her way through the crowd. ‘Heini… Heini!’ she called out to a man wearing an apron, carrying a tray of beers.

‘Minki! How good to see you. We’ve missed you.’

‘And I you. We need a table – can you find us one?’

‘Of course,’ he shouted back. ‘Follow me.’

Depositing his tray of beers on the bar counter, Heini led the group to a private room at the back of the bar where there was an empty table. ‘Will this do?’

‘Perfect…and could you bring over three beers, a plate of sandwiches and a glass of schnapps for each of us.’