took her hands and said, “Greta, listen. There’s something I want you to do.”
“Anything, darling. What?”
“I need your help clearing Grimme’s name.”
She stared at him, uncomprehending. “What do you mean?”
“You and I are both done for, but Grimme was barely involved. He still has a chance to get off with a prison sentence. He’s been my friend since our school days. If you confirm his innocence in court, if we keep our stories straight, there’s a chance we could save him.”
A flicker of anger surged. She was not willing to accept that she was done for, not yet, not until the sentence was pronounced. “Very well,” she managed to say. “Grimme knew nothing. He did nothing. We hid our work from him because we knew he would not approve.”
He smiled, relieved. “That’s my good girl.” He drew her close again and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, darling.”
She stiffened in his embrace, but knowing that she might never again feel his arms around her, she forced herself to relax, to relent, to forgive. And yet in the back of her mind a plaintive voice lamented that Adam and Grimme could have worked out a story to exonerate her instead. She was Adam’s wife, the mother of his youngest son, and yet when he decided to try to save one person, he had chosen someone else.
The guard unlocked the door and barked a command, ending their brief interlude. The eight defendants were escorted into the courtroom and ordered to take their places. The court was called into session, Roeder began the proceedings, and then, so swiftly that Greta would have become outraged if she were not so afraid and overwhelmed, Hitler’s Bloodhound flew through all eight prosecutions in a single day.
After the judges retired to their chambers, the eight defendants were escorted back to the waiting room and again permitted to speak freely. Shaken from the courtroom ordeal, Greta seized Adam’s hand and tried to draw strength from his firm, familiar grasp. She expected the men to discuss the trial and its possible outcomes, but instead they shared rumors of a staggering German defeat at Stalingrad that had apparently occurred only a few days before. Greta looked from one eager, careworn face to another, marveling at their enthusiasm. Could it be that none of them had reached the same conclusion she had—that Hitler, who always found a scapegoat to blame for every failure, could very well hold the Rote Kapelle responsible for this disastrous loss? They had provided volumes of military and economic intelligence to the Soviets. Hitler would not care if a direct link could not be established. He would not care if the correct people were punished, as long as someone was.
As the men’s discussion became increasingly animated, Greta worried that they had abandoned caution, at the Reichskriegsgericht of all places. She glanced surreptitiously toward the guards and was surprised to find them conversing nonchalantly, utterly indifferent to their prisoners’ seditious talk. Indeed, why should they care? Greta thought bitterly. To the guards, the defendants were as good as dead. Nothing they said mattered anymore.
All too soon, the defendants were loaded into the police van and taken back to prison. Greta slept poorly that night, and was awakened before dawn by a guard rattling her cell door. Groggily, she rose, dressed, and attended to her face and hair as best she could, determined to appear dignified and respectable before the court, not that it would sway their decision.
Again they were brought before the judges, but this time, they were asked if they wished to make any final statements on their own behalf. Greta’s blood roiled with shock and anger as Adolf Grimme reminded the court that he was a man of prominence and renown, that he had served as the Reich minister of culture, that he had received the Goethe Prize from Field Marshal Hindenburg’s own hands. He swore that he was no Communist, but a socialist and a man of faith who had succumbed to Adam Kuckhoff’s influence.
As he returned to his place, Greta could not bear to look at him, but she was startled to find Adam apparently unsurprised by his friend’s denunciation. Perhaps they had worked out Grimme’s statement between themselves ahead of time, but Greta still seethed with suppressed fury. How dare Grimme vainly attempt to save his own life by shoving Adam toward the gallows?
The verdicts were read: Greta, Adam, and five others received the death sentence. Grimme was condemned for failing to report an