The Scarlatti Inheritance(23)
July, 1923
My dear Kroeger:
I am concerned. I have moved north and you can reach me at the address below. Hitler is a fool. The Ruhr take-over by Poincaré was his chance to unite all of Bavaria—politically. The people are ready. But they want order, not chaos. Instead, Hitler rants and raves and uses the old fool Ludendorff to give him stature. He will do something insane, I feel it. I wonder if there’s room in the party for both of us? There is great activity in the north. A Major Buchrucker has formed the Black Reichswehr, a large armed force that may find sympathy wtih our cause. I meet with Buchrucker shortly. We’ll see.
September, 1923
Dear Strasser:
Since last October it’s been a better year than I ever thought possible! It’s funny—but a person can find something in his past, something he may hate—and realize it’s the best weapon he’s got. I have. I lead two lives and neither meets the other! It is a brilliant manipulation if I do say so myself! I think you would be pleased that you didn’t kill your friend Kroeger in France.
December, 1923
My dear Kroeger:
I head south immediately! Munich was a disaster. I warned them not to attempt a forcible putsch. It has to be political—but they would not listen. Hitler will draw a long jail sentence, in spite of our “friends.” God knows what will happen to poor old Ludendorff. Buchrucker’s Black Reichswehr has been destroyed by von Seeckt. Why? We all want the same thing. The depression is nothing short of catastrophic now. Always it is the wrong people who fight each other. The Jews and the Communists enjoy it all, no doubt. It is an insane country.
April, 1924
Dear Strasser:
I’ve had my first contact with any real difficulty—but it’s under control now. Remember, Strasser? Control.… The problem is a simple one—too many people are after the same thing. Everyone wants to be the big cheese! There’s plenty for everybody but no one believes that. It’s very much as you describe—the people who shouldn’t fight each other are doing just that. Nevertheless, I’ve nearly accomplished what I set out to do. Soon I’ll have a list of thousands! Thousands! Who’ll do as we want!
January, 1925
My dear Kroeger:
This is my last letter. I write from Zurich. Since Herr Hitler’s release he has once again assumed leadership of the party and I confess there are deep divisions between us. Perhaps they will be resolved. I, too, have my followers. To the point. We are all of us under the strongest surveillance. The Weimar is frightened of us—as well it should be. I am convinced my mail, my telephone, my every action is scrutinized. No more chances. But the time approaches. A bold plan is being conceived and I have taken the liberty of suggesting Heinrich Kroeger’s inclusion. It is a master plan, a fantastic plan. You are to contact the Marquis Jacques Louis Bertholde of Bertholde et Fils, London. By mid-April. The only name he knows—as myself—is Heinrich Kroeger.
A gray-haired man of sixty-three sat at his desk looking out the window over K Street in Washington. His name was Benjamin Reynolds and in two years he would retire. Until that time, however, he was responsible for the functions of an innocuous-sounding agency attached to the Department of the Interior. The agency was titled Field Services and Accounting. To less than five hundred people, it was known simply as Group Twenty.
The agency got its shortened name from its origins: a group of twenty field accountants sent out by Interior to look into the growing conflicts of interest between those politicians allocating federal funds and those of the electorate receiving them.
With America’s entry into the war and the overnight industrial expansion necessary to sustain the war effort, Group Twenty became an overworked unit. The awarding of munitions and armament contracts to businesses throughout the country demanded an around-the-clock scrutiny beyond the capabilities of the limited number of field accountants. However, rather than expand the silent agency, it was decided to use it only in the most sensitive—or embarrassing—areas. There were a sufficient number of these. And the field accountants were specialists.
After the war there was talk of disbanding Group Twenty, but each time such action was considered problems arose that required its talents. Generally they were problems involving highly placed public servants who dipped a bit too greedily into the public jewel box. But in isolated cases Group Twenty assumed duties shunned by other departments for any number of reasons.
Such as the Treasury Department’s reluctance to pursue a vapor called Scarlatti.
“Why, Glover?” asked the gray-haired man. “The question is why? Assuming there’s an ounce of prosecutable proof, why?”