############Halstead’s alcohol-induced timing proved to be perfect, as Rosenberg and the committee apart from Halstead found themselves overcome by a beer-swilling mob in the back room of the Sterneckerbräu while they were in the middle of an emergency meeting the sole topic of which was the expulsion of Herr Adolf Hitler. Rosenberg was explaining why the committee would need to vote Halstead out of the party that very night and take over the operation of the New Times before its first issue went to press, holding up the photograph of Pharoah Tutankhamen’s tomb as physical evidence, when the first of Halstead’s rowdies kicked in the door and pulled the stunned speaker out of his chair. By the time Halstead staggered into the room, each of the six plotters were being held fast by two sets of hands. Halstead approached Rosenberg first, pulled the stolen print from his fist, then struck him across the cheek with the butt of a drawn Luger. “Traitor!” The Luger’s muzzle was then pressed firmly against the victim’s temple. “Give me the keys to the office!” Rosenberg, his eyes fixed on the ceiling above, fished in his right pants pocket for his keys and placed them next to the photograph already in Halstead’s left hand. “All of the keys, Alfred.” At this further prompting, Rosenberg fished in his other pocket for the spare set he had taken from Halstead’s desk. No one in the crowded room moved to stop Halstead: all had simply stopped moving and were now staring at the pistol in his hand. It was as he transferred the jangling keys to his own pockets that Halstead sobered slightly, enough to realize that his shaking index was on the gun’s trigger, and lowered the gun’s muzzle to point at the floor. “How dare you!” Halstead muttered with a lowered head. Then, with his head raised in the direction of his fellow committee members, he shouted, “How dare you all! Everything I do I do for the party, and this is how you repay me!” He approached the stretch of table opposite Drexler and leaned over to press the gun against his forehead. “Why not we end this right here, Anton? Why not shoot you and the others and make myself the sole surviving committee member of the Darbeitpartei?” |