The Dark Frontier by A. Decker (best books to read non fiction .txt) 📕

Probably the greatest moment in his life came the day when he claimed to have met Gordon Craig, perhaps the only person whose name alone was sufficient to draw an endless litany of accolades and acclaim from Achim. The memory of that night was still quite vivid, how he so rudely dragged Frank from his sleep just after midnight in a bitter-cold January. Achim was utterly elated. He had obviously been drinking and was almost manic in his garrulous urge to talk. He was clearly not going to be leaving in a hurry. So Frank reluctantly accepted his invitation to celebrate the night with a bottle of champagne. It was a luxury he could ill afford. So together they disposed of what turned out to be Sekt rather than the real thing. But at least it did not need chilling. And nor did the second bottle.

By now only half-conscious for other reasons, it was some time before Frank learned what occasion it was they were toasting. In his manic excitement, Achim had omitted to explain that he had become engaged that evening to Gertrude, a girl about whom Frank knew little, except that she was extremely attractive and vivacious. But it was not until the following morning that he learned the true reason for Achim’s elation. He had spent the earlier part of the day at the Flechtheim Gallery visiting an exhibition of Gordon Craig’s designs for Hamlet and had met the master himself. Whether they actually met was uncertain. But Achim came away from the gallery so excited by the event that he could think of no better way to celebrate it than to ask for Gertrude’s hand in marriage.

Perhaps the marriage was intended to serve as a constant reminder of this great day in his life. It was certainly the oddest reason for a proposal that Frank had ever known. But it was so typical of Achim and his obtuse unpredictability.

It struck Frank that Achim should have been with him a few days before. Then he would have witnessed a theatrical event that would have really appealed to him. It was a performance at the Stadttheater in Basel of A Hundred Days by Benito Mussolini and his mate Forzano. The lead was played by Werner Krauss – the man who had portrayed the brutal butcher in The Joyless Street alongside Greta Garbo and who now sat on the Nazi council in Berlin. There was a large contingent of Germans from across the border in the audience. They wore their patriotism on their sleeves. Not least of them was Reichsstatthalter Wagner.

Frank found the atmosphere both fascinating and deeply disturbing. He wondered how this city with a social-democratic government could tolerate such a festival of fascist thuggery. And it was at this moment – as the curtain finally went down, and Krauss came out on stage with the director – that a solitary brave voice from the audience shouted out: “Raus!” That single word made his evening. Restored his faith in humanity. If only Achim could be here, he thought, to enjoy these little freedoms with him.

It was around this time that he decided to write to Achim. His friend needed to know what opportunities there were here. The place not only vibrated with ideas and conversation that could give him new inspiration. There were also so many people from the Berlin scene already in the country. If not here, then in Zurich. He could not help but feel at home and, with all his experience, find work in a local theatre. He put all these arguments to Achim in a long letter, without truly expecting him to be quite so enthusiastic in his reply.

So he was surprised to get a very positive letter back. Only the day before, a bunch of Nazi thugs had thoroughly trashed the Jewish newsagent’s next door, given the owner a severe beating and dragged him away with his wife. This was the final straw for Achim and Gertrude, who by now had twin baby boys to feed as well. It became clear to them that night that, if they did not leave soon, they would all perish in the very near future. And so it was that Achim’s letter of reply came by return, announcing that he and his family would follow very soon. Frank was both surprised and relieved.

When sleep finally overcame him, the dawn light was already beginning to break in over the balcony to his room. And it was not long before his headiness and anticipation of their reunion had brought him back to an exhausted form of life. Frank felt terrible. His head ached. His mouth was drier and rougher than pumice stone. And the bed seemed as hard as a rock. He cautiously opened his eyes. Squinted. And came face to face with a pair of black boots.

Chapter 5

Frank’s disappearance from the clinic presented Professor Abegg and Dr Zellweger with a problem. Having dragged Ellen all the way from London only to lose her husband before she even had a chance to see him, they now felt an obligation to look after her while the search for Frank continued. The two men exchanged uncomfortable glances, before the doctor turned to Ellen with an awkward hesitation.

“Perhaps you would you care to stay with me and my wife for the time being?” Dr Zellweger asked, with more than a hint of coercion from his professor. “She would enjoy the company.”

“That’s very kind,” said Ellen.

“But I should warn you,” the professor said with a smile on his lips that seemed closer to a smirk, “Dr Zellweger’s wife is feeling quite excitable now that she has the right to vote. Quite irrepressible.”

His secretary Maria Frey, he added, would drive her to the Zellwegers’ place up on Bruderholz. Professor Abegg was clearly keen to banish Ellen from his embarrassment over the loss of Frank as soon as possible.

In Maria’s Austin Healey it took little more than ten minutes from the clinic, a drive that