the political spectrum. The Nazis have been persecuting German Communists for years. How could Stalin form an alliance with their tormentor?”
“Think of poor Poland, trapped between them in a pincer grip.” Adam ran a hand over his jaw, grimacing. “Just a few days ago, Harnack was trying to convince me that Hitler would eventually attack the Soviet Union, that he’d send the Wehrmacht toward the Caucasus to secure a steady supply of oil for the Reich. Now he won’t have to. He just gained access to the Soviet Union’s raw materials without firing a shot.”
“But what does Stalin get out of it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s buying time. Maybe he and Hitler have agreed to divide up Poland between them.”
To Greta that seemed all too likely. Apparently Hitler had fooled Stalin as easily as he had Chamberlain and Daladier.
They stayed up for another hour, hoping to learn more, but the music resumed without interruption. Greta went off to bed shortly after midnight, but Adam decided to stay up another hour, just in case.
In the morning, Adam told her that nothing more had been announced before he had come to bed at two o’clock. The Nazi press had been busy overnight, though, for all the major papers had put out extra editions hailing the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact as a tremendous diplomatic victory over Great Britain, shattering their ongoing negotiations with France and Russia for an alliance that would have left Germany encircled by its rivals. Jubilant editorials proclaimed that a resolution of the matter of Poland would soon follow. “The world stands before a towering fact,” enthused Der Angriff, the Nazi paper Goebbels had founded when Hitler was just beginning to ascend to power. “Two peoples have placed themselves on the basis of a common foreign policy which during a long and traditional friendship produced a foundation for a common understanding.”
“Long and traditional friendship,” retorted Adam, giving the paper a shake. “It’s ten hours old and as abnormal a friendship as the world has ever known.”
Later that morning, when Adam phoned Arvid at his office and suggested they meet, Arvid invited him and Greta for supper that evening. The Kuckhoffs brought food and wine, Mildred provided dessert and coffee, and while little Ule played at their feet or tumbled from lap to lap, squealing and giggling, they pooled their information, which was frustratingly meager.
Arvid was adamant that the friendship between Hitler and Stalin would be short-lived. “It’s absolutely clear that Hitler will now prepare even more determinedly for war against the Soviet Union,” he said.
“You’ve seen a draft of a declaration of war?” Greta asked archly, annoyed by his didactic certainty.
“Economically, he’s not yet prepared,” Arvid replied, ignoring her tone. “He’ll try to gain control of other countries’ raw materials and production facilities as quickly as possible.”
“Poland will be the first,” said Mildred.
“But not the last. The longer this fragile pact between Germany and Russia lasts, the more of Europe Hitler will consume.”
“Maybe Stalin is smarter than you give him credit for,” said Adam. “I know you despise him, and you have good reason. He killed your friends. But hear me out. What if Hitler intends to provoke a war between Germany and the West? In the resulting chaos, the Bolsheviks could step in and impose communism upon the countries involved—”
“Or what’s left of them,” said Mildred.
“Or,” said Greta, “perhaps Stalin isn’t smart at all. Hitler has broken every international agreement he’s ever made. Didn’t this very pact with Russia shatter an understanding Germany had with Japan? Just five years ago, Hitler made a similar pact with Poland, and you see how he disregards that now. When Hitler has wrung everything he wants out of Russia, this so-called friendship will be obsolete.”
Arvid’s eyebrows rose. “So you agree with me rather than your husband.”
“I didn’t mean to,” said Greta, but then she gave him a wry smile. Sometimes their old rivalry resurfaced in moments of tension, inconvenient and childish. She had to do better.
Arvid briefly returned her smile, but it soon faded. “For now, our primary goal should be to gather information. I suspect things are going to unravel quickly, and we need to stay one step ahead.”
But in the days that followed, Greta felt as if they were racing to catch up from behind.
Rumors of impending conflict sizzled and sparked through Berlin as the military requisitioned private automobiles and installed antiaircraft weapons on the rooftops of strategic buildings along Unter den Linden. On August 24, as German bombers flew over the