The Seventh Secret Read Free Page B

hit-and-run incidents happen all the time, I might say that it was an accident that was in this particular case almost statistically impossible. Yet we know in life that the impossible does happen.
    What adds to my own loss is that your father had told me that you were both on the threshold of completing the book of which he thought he would be most proud. I am not unmindful of the major role you have been playing, as your father's daughter and a respected historian in your own right, in producing the Hitler biography. I fondly recall the occasion when you accompanied your father to lunch with me at the Opern Café in East Berlin three years ago, and the stimulating discussion that ensued about the biography. I know Herr Hitler needs only the ending to be written to complete the project. It is my strong hope that, in due time, you will bring the Hitler work to a conclusion. The world deserves to see it. Your father deserves to have it in print as a monument to his genius and scholarship.
    Should you need my assistance in any way, please feel free to call upon MR.
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    Faithfully,
    Otto Blaubach
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    Emily blinked at the letter, touched by it, moved, and brought back somewhat into the world of the living.
    Blaubach wanted her to finish the book, believed that this should be done and that she could do it. The request, the hope, slightly rattled her. Since her father's sudden death, she had not thought of their biography at all, at least not consciously. Without him, she could not imagine the work's having existence.
    Yet Blaubach was right. The work was not dead. She had been one of the arteries that had pumped life into it. And she was still here, very much alive.
    Slowly she refolded Blaubach's letter. She could not give it further thought, and certainly not serious consideration, not now in her bereavement. She would read it again another day. Stuffing the letter back into her purse, she became aware of the second envelope. She ripped it open, and extracted a typewritten letter. It was typed on the stationery of the Berliner Morgenpost, the respected West Berlin daily newspaper. Emily's eyes sought the signature. It was signed with the name Peter Nitz, someone unknown to her.
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    Dear Miss Ashcroft,
    Although you do not know me, I should like to take the liberty to convey to you my sorrow at Dr. Ashcroft's death.
    I never had the good fortune to meet Dr. Ashcroft. However, I did see him and was able to hear his last public utterances not many minutes before his death . As a feature writer and reporter on a leading West Berlin daily, I was assigned to cover Dr. Ashcroft's final press conference.
    After briefing the gathered media about Herr Hitler, the important biography which the two of you had been writing, Dr. Ashcroft announced that he had held up the ending of the book, pending further investigation into Adolf Hitler's final hours in his bunker. Dr. Ashcroft remarked that although all standard biographies and histories of Adolf Hitler stated unequivocally that Hitler had committed suicide along with his bride Eva Braun in the Führerbunker in 1945, a piece of evidence had come to Dr. Ashcroft's attention that indicated some possibility that Hitler had not died at that time, and may have escaped from the bunker altogether. Dr. Ashcroft added that, to verify this possibility, he had obtained permission to excavate the bunker area in East Germany in search of a certain piece of evidence. It was Dr. Ashcroft's hope that anyone in Berlin who heard or read of his undertaking, and knew at firsthand any more facts about Hitler's last hours, would contact him at the Bristol Kempinski hotel during the week to follow.
    Right after his announcement to us, Dr. Ashcroft said he was open to questions from the floor. Naturally, we had numerous questions to ask. Mostly they concerned the identity of the person who had given him the new evidence, and what form this evidence had taken. Dr. Ashcroft, understandably, would not