Conspiracy of Blood and Smoke by Anne Blankman Page A

had had fake ones forged so they could enter other countries. She’d never gotten hers back. After they’d settled in Oxford, though, Daniel’s cousins had sent him his papers, because he’d wanted to use his true identity when he looked for work. “We’ll find a forger to make you new ones.”
    “I can’t, Gretchen.” He kept his gaze steady on hers, grim and unblinking. “I have to prove my innocence.”
    She made an impatient noise in her throat. “Even if you prove you’re innocent, Hitler won’t let you leave the country.”
    Daniel’s eyes were clear and determined. “Hitler’s power is limited, at least for now. President Hindenburg can remove him whenever he wants, without the Reichstag’s approval. So Hitler must tread carefully. If I can get proof that the National Socialists are behind the murder, I’ll give it to a foreign correspondent friend I have in Berlin. He’ll have the story printed in his paper in England. It’ll be an enormous scandal for the National Socialists. All eyes will be on Berlin, and they’ll have to let me leave the country.” He gave her a grave smile. “And the best part is, the world will know the National Socialists are criminals. I might be able to destroy them once and for all.”
    The boldness of his plan stole her breath. Could he truly convince everyone what sort of people Hitler and his men were—and push them from power forever?
    A couple of men sauntered by, munching on rolls. Gretchen was silent until they had gone, thinking. “I don’t understand whythey’re blaming you for a murder that occurred in Berlin. Why not accuse you of a crime here in Munich?”
    Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know. But I aim to find out.”
    The train squealed to a stop beside the platform. Porters flooded the crowd, grabbing trunks and bags.
    “Is it safe for you to go to Berlin?” she asked. “I mean, you grew up there—surely you’ll be recognized.”
    “I’ll be fine.” He looked exhausted, but calm. “Berlin’s like a dozen little cities. Most people live and work and go to school in their own district. The area where I grew up is on the northern outskirts. If I keep to central Berlin, no one will know me.” He took a deep breath. “I really want to go home, just for a short visit, if it’s not too risky. I miss my family so much.” His voice sounded gruff.
    Just looking at him made Gretchen’s heart ache. “We’ll find a way to see them,” she said quickly. “And prove your innocence. I swear it.”
    Her fear must have shown in her face, though, for he said, “I have to go to Berlin. If I don’t clear my name, I’ll either be caught and executed or I’ll have to find another forger to make me false papers and hope they’re good enough to fool the border agents. Even then, I’ll have to live under an assumed name for the rest of my life. Everyone will think I’m a murderer. I couldn’t bear that, Gretchen. The shame my parents would feel . . .” He glanced away.
    The train doors opened with a metallic groan. People surged forward, eager to board the train and get settled for the night’s journey.
    Daniel kissed her cheek. His touch sent a line of fire downto her feet. “You mustn’t come with me. It’s too dangerous, Gretchen. Please, go back to England straightaway.”
    She thought of the police wagons rumbling through the streets, carrying who knew how many journalists to jail, just because they wrote for Socialist or Communist newspapers. Herr Gerlich, telling her to go, helping her when he must have known that he was about to be beaten and arrested. Aaron attacked in the street because he hadn’t saluted. Eva’s deadened blue eyes, and Papa and Reinhard lying beneath the ground, and Mama banished to her parents’ farm in Dachau while Hitler remained untouched. For the last year, he had crisscrossed Germany in his airplane, campaigning, giving speeches, making promises, shaking supporters’ hands, watching his men parade in the