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As the letter wore on, that became the theme—a domineering uncle, a young niece eager to elude the prison he built around her.

Bauer read: “‘I cannot deny that you dominate my thoughts, even that my obsession with you has become unhealthy.’”

And this line that, in Bauer’s opinion, stated that theme all too starkly:

“‘You and I both understand that you can never be with another man. As much as I have tried to tolerate the idea, I cannot permit it.’”

When he was finished, Gerlich looked at Bauer. “Who can now claim it’s far-fetched that Hitler might have killed Geli to stop her from leaving him?”

“Nobody.” For the first time, Bauer allowed himself optimism. This felt different. This was as close to conclusive as he could hope for. “And that’s not the best part,” he said. “Look there in the corner.”

Gerlich leaned forward. “Just another ink smudge, no?”

“It’s a lot more than an ink smudge, Fritz.” Bauer pointed. “It’s a thumbprint, dipped in ink!” He gripped Gerlich’s jacket and shook him. “We can prove it’s his handwriting and we have a fingerprint to back it up. He won’t be able to deny this.”

The room went silent again as the men took in the gravity of everything they’d seen. They paced, looked at each other, stared at the ceiling, shut their eyes, and considered the possibilities.

“It’s still not airtight proof of murder, though,” said Helldorff.

“No, Peter. No, no, no.” Gerlich waved his hands. “You’re not seeing this on a wide enough scale. Quit being a cop for two minutes. This exposes the man for the monster he is. The people need to know this. Of course I care about solving a murder, but don’t you see? Didn’t you just read those same memos about how they’re going to take total power and eradicate the Jews from this country? This is about more than a murder, Bauer. This is about the fate of our nation!”

He was right. Bauer, slowly nodding, knew it, too.

They finally had something they could use to take down Adolf Hitler.

44

THE MEN PACKED UP the contents of Hitler’s safe, returned the documents to their respective envelopes, and placed them inside Thomas Bauer’s tattered leather bag.

“So how soon can we get this stuff published?” Bauer asked. He checked his watch. It was already near 3:00 a.m.

“Tonight,” said Fritz Gerlich. “We publish it to all of Munich, to all of Germany. We force the justice minister and your Chief Müller to properly investigate. We turn the tide of sentiment against the National Socialists before it’s too late.”

“Can we go to the printing press right now?” Bauer asked.

Gerlich shook his head. “I need technical assistance. I do a lot of things at my newspaper, but not that. At least, not by myself. And I need to write at least a short article introducing all of this. Readers will need context.”

“Okay, so what do we do with these papers right now?” Bauer thought for a moment. “We have to assume that Hitler has discovered his safe is empty. And it will take him no time at all to figure out that the radiator repairman he spoke to in his office wasn’t a radiator repairman. I’m the last person who should hold these papers.”

Peter Helldorff took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll take them home.”

Bauer gave him a look. Despite Helldorff’s insistence on participating, Bauer could not help but see him as a kid in over his head. He felt responsible for the eighteen-year-old’s safety. “No,” he said. “Too dangerous.”

“We’ve been over this, Bauer. I’m not a child. I’m in this as much as you are.”

“I’ll take them,” said Gerlich.

“No.” Bauer paced the room. “You’re one of the first people they’ll suspect of being a part of this, Fritz. From their perspective, as far as journalists go, you’re enemy number one. For all we know, they’re raiding your office right now. If not your home.”

Gerlich blinked hard at that last sentence. So did Bauer. Their homes. Bauer’s wife and kids. Gerlich’s wife. What if the Nazis showed up there tonight?

“We need to get home right now,” said Gerlich.

“Right.” Bauer grabbed the bag. “None of us should have this in our possession. Let’s—why don’t we leave it here? Nobody knows about this place, do they, Fritz?”

“Nobody,” he said. “My friend’s the landlord. Nobody would think to look here. It’s brilliant, actually.”

Bauer closed the bag. “Any loose floorboards we can hide it under, by chance?”