"Of course, of course," the Fuhrer said impatiently. "I was just now talking about his plight, as a matter of fact. What's going on with him?"

Colonel Hossbach licked his lips. "Sir, he has been shot. Shot dead, I should say. The murderer is in custody. He is a certain Jaroslav Stribny: a Czech, sir. His passport shows a Prague address."

Hitler stared at him in astonishment, disbelief, and then sudden crazy joy. "Ich bin vom Himmel gefallen!" he blurted. I've fallen from heaven! was what the words meant literally, but what they really conveyed was his utter amazement.

"What shall we do, mein Fuhrer?" Hossbach asked nervously.

A moment later, it was his turn to be amazed, because Hitler bussed him on both cheeks like a Frenchman. "Leave that to me, my dear Hossbach," he answered. "Oh, yes. Leave that to me!"

He was almost chortling as he turned back to the statesmen and officials and interpreters inside his office. He'd thought about getting rid of Henlein to give himself a casus belli against Czechoslovakia. He'd thought about it, yes, and put it aside. It would have been too raw, too unlikely, for anyone to swallow.

But Herr Jaroslav Stribny had just handed him that casus belli in a fancy package with a ribbon around it. The Reich would have to execute Stribny as a murderer. Hitler understood the need, and he'd never been shy about disposing of anyone who needed disposing of. All the same, what he wanted to do was pin a medal on Stribny's chest. Talk about advancing Germany's cause…!

"What is it, Fuhrer?" Mussolini asked. "By the look in your eye, it is truly important, whatever it is."

"Ja," Hitler said, and the pause that followed gave him the chance to pull his thoughts together and figure out how best to use the extraordinary opportunity that had fallen into his lap. "Truly important, indeed. Colonel Hossbach brings me word that Konrad Henlein, whom I mentioned only a few minutes ago, has been viciously and brutally assassinated. Assassinated by one Jaroslav Stribny, of Prague. Not content with forcing him out of the Sudetenland, the Czechs followed him into Germany and finished him off here."

"Dio mio!" Mussolini exclaimed, eyes bulging in astonishment.

Dr. Schmidt translated for Chamberlain. Daladier had his own interpreter. The leaders of the two democracies gaped at the Fuhrer. Chamberlain murmured something. Hitler looked sharply at Schmidt. "He says he can hardly believe it, mein Fuhrer," the translator said.

"Well, I can hardly believe it, either," Hitler said. "I can hardly believe the perfidy of the Czech government, the perfidy of the whole Czech race, that has brought things to such a pass. You can surely see that we in the Reich did everything we could to be reasonable, to be generous, toward Czechoslovakia. But what thanks do we get? Murder! And I am afraid, gentlemen, that I see no choice but to avenge the insult with blood."

Edouard Daladier frowned. Hitler almost told him how ridiculous he looked, with a few long, pathetic strands of hair combed over a vast bald pate. "This seems too convenient for words," Daladier said. "Too convenient for you, too convenient for your aggression."

Hitler almost told him he hadn't rubbed out Henlein for just that reason. But, while he might have been so frank with Mussolini, whom he esteemed, he felt only contempt for the miserable little Frenchman. "Before God and before the spirit of history, I had nothing to do with it," he declared.

"Monsieur Daladier is right," Chamberlain said. "The advantage you gain from this almost surpasses belief."

"Believe whatever you please." No, Hitler hadn't arranged for Henlein's elimination. But he intended to use it. Oh, yes! Warming to his theme, he went on, "I have said all along that these Slavs are not to be trusted. I have said all along that they do not deserve nations of their own. Look what happened to Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914. Those murderous Serbian maniacs plunged a continent into war. And now the Slavs have done it again!"

"This need not be," Neville Chamberlain said urgently. "As a result of this most unfortunate incident, I am sure we can extract more concessions from Mr. Masarik and Mr. Mastny." The Foreign Ministry counselor and the Czech minister to Germany waited to hear what the great powers would decree for their country. The British Prime Minister continued, "And I do not see how the government of Czechoslovakia can fail to ratify whatever agreement we reach."

"No," Hitler said. "Not a soul can claim I was unwilling to meet you halfway, your Excellency. My thought all along was that Czechoslovakia deserved punishment for her arrogance and brutality. But I restrained myself. I convened this meeting at your request. You persuaded me the Czechs could be trusted far enough to make it worthwhile. In this we were both mistaken."

He paused to let Dr. Schmidt translate. Schmidt was an artist, keeping a speaker's tone as well as his meaning. Hitler's tone, at the moment, had iron in it. So did the interpreter's when he spoke English.

"You could overlook the enormity if you chose," Chamberlain insisted. When turning his words into German, Schmidt somehow sounded like a fussy old man. "Henlein was, after all, a citizen of Czechoslovakia, not of the German Reich-"

"He was a German!" Hitler thundered, loud and fierce enough to make every pair of eyes in the room turn his way. "He was a German!" he repeated, a little more softly. "That is the whole point of what we have been discussing. All the Germans of the Sudetenland belong within the Reich. Because the Czechs will not allow this and go on persecuting them, we see disasters like this latest one. I am very sorry, your Excellency, very sorry indeed, but, as I said, blood calls for blood. As soon as I leave this office, Germany will declare war on Czechoslovakia."

"May Monsieur Daladier and I have a few minutes to confer with each other?" Chamberlain asked, adding, "The situation has changed quite profoundly in the past few minutes, you understand."

Would they throw Czechoslovakia over the side because of what Stribny had done? If they would, Hitler was willing to give them as much time as they needed. Their turn would come next anyhow. "You may do as you please," the Fuhrer said. "I must ask you to step outside to talk, though; as I said, I shall not leave the room without declaring war."

Chamberlain, Daladier, and their flunkies almost fell over one another in their haste to leave. As soon as they were gone, Mussolini asked, "Did you-?"

He left the question hanging, but Hitler knew what he meant. "Nein," he said roughly. As he shook his head, a lock of hair flopped down over one eye. Impatiently, he pushed it back. "The Czechs did it themselves. They did it to themselves. And they will pay. By God, they will pay!"

"Italy still is not truly ready for this struggle," the Duce warned.

"When the Czechs murder the leader of an oppressed minority, will you let them get away with it?" Hitler asked in astonishment. Full of righteous indignation that the Untermenschen should dare such a thing, he forgot for the moment all his own murders.

"They shouldn't," Mussolini admitted. "Still, England and France and Russia…"

"Russia? What good is Russia?" Hitler said scornfully. "She doesn't even border Czechoslovakia. Do you think the Poles or the Romanians will let her ship soldiers across their territory? If she tries, we'll have two new allies like that." He snapped his fingers.

"I suppose so…" Mussolini still didn't sound convinced.

Hitler was ready to argue with him all day, but didn't get the chance. Chamberlain and Daladier returned to the office. Both heads of government looked thoroughly grim, their aides even grimmer. Daladier spoke for them: "I regret to have to say that, if Germany attacks Czechoslovakia, the French Republic and the United Kingdom will honor their commitments to their ally. We cannot believe that the murder of Monsieur Henlein is anything but a trumped-up provocation. Peace and war, then, lie entirely in your hands."