Tycoon by Harold Robbins Page B

in German, followed by the translation. After a while the translation became a voiceover, with the interpreter speaking in the foreground and the voice of Hitler in the background.
    Curt suspected that the whole performance had been specifically made for this broadcast. The shortwave transmission distorted the voices slightly, but that served only to lend the broadcast unique drama. Hitler spoke in a quiet, persuasive voice.
    The German consulate in New York wired Berlin within minutes after the interview was aired, saying that the program had been clearly heard in America and was a complete success. Fifteen newspapers editorialized to the effect that “When Herr Hitler is heard in person, his comments unfiltered by journalistic prejudices, he makes a case in which Americans can generally believe, though we might not be ready to accept every element of his reasoning.”
    Now Curtis Frederick went to Ernst Bauer with another proposition. Why not do a live broadcast of one of the Reichskanzler’s speeches? Most Americans would not be able to understand it until after it had been translated, but many Americans did understand German, and those who didn’t would catch the tone of the oratory. To Curt’s amazement, the Ministry of Propaganda agreed. Three weeks after the quiet-and-persuasive interview, Americans heard the German Führer haranguing a crowd in the Sportspalast. This was a very different Hitler, screaming into his microphones. Americans also heard thousands of his followers yelling “Heil!”
    The Nazis seemed to have no idea they had been gulled. When Betsy arrived in Berlin to spend two weeks with Curt, Ernst Bauer invited the couple to a candlelight dinner in a private dining room at the Ministry of Propaganda. After the dinner, Bauer presented them with two autographed photographs of Adolf Hitler, one addressed to Curtis Frederick and one to Jack Lear. Apparently no one in Berlin guessed that Jack Lear was a Jew.
T WO
    I N J ULY J ACK RECEIVED WORD THAT A L OS A NGELES RADIO station was for sale. He made his second flight to the West Coast, this time in a DC-3, and was so comfortable with the experience that he decided to fly back as well.
    He could not buy the station because his brother, who had never before expressed any interest in radio, had bought it while Jack was en route. Robert’s motive was all too obvious: over lunch with Jack and their father, Bob offered to sell him the station. Jack told him he’d paid far too much for it. For that reason as well as because he knew nothing about running a radio station, he would lose a lot of money on it.
    Erich just shook his head as he watched Jack eat a shrimp cocktail and said he obviously didn’t care what he ate.
    Dinner that evening was far more pleasant. Jack had arranged a room-service dinner in his suite and had invited Mo Morris and his client Connie Lane—the Consetta Lazzara who had danced nude for him four years before. She was twenty now and was modestly successful in pictures. After dinner she told Jack she’d stay if he wanted her. He did.
    On the return flight the airliner made an unscheduled landing at Omaha. The pilot explained that just to the east a line of thunderstorms extending hundreds of miles north and south had stalled instead of continuing to move east as expected. As the passengers waited uncomfortably in the airport terminalbuilding, from time to time the pilot visited them and explained what the storms were doing.
    Jack was fascinated. He caught up with the pilot before he left the room and asked if he could talk to him.
    â€œAbout what, sir?”
    â€œAbout the weather. About how you know so much about the weather.”
    â€œWell, sir, we have to know. We don’t want to fly into dangerous conditions.”
    â€œBut how do you get the information? You seem to know exactly where the storms are and what they are doing. I own a string of radio stations, and I’d like to be