Part 18

His eagerness to discover who had given me affidavits was funny and I laughed. "I'll publish the information contained in them," I explained. "The names of the signers will be given only to an American governmental or judicial body which may look into your 'patriotic' activities. But let's get on. Do you know the Nazi Consul in Los Angeles--Dr. George Gyssling?"

He sat silently for a moment as if hesitating whether to speak.

"Don't be afraid to talk," I said. "The Consul isn't. You know, of course, that he does not like you?"

A deep red flush suffused his face. "It's mutual!" he said. "I know he talks--"

Throughout the interview Schwinn tried almost pathetically, despite his obvious dislike of Gyssling, to cover up the Consul's interference in American affairs. When I told Schwinn I had affidavits showing that Rafael Demmler, President of the Steuben Society of Los Angeles, got two hundred dollars in April, 1936, from the Nazi Consul to help maintain the Deutsches Haus as a center of Nazi propaganda, he shook his head bewilderedly; and when I pointed out that he himself got one hundred and forty-five dollars in cash from the Nazi Consul on Tuesday, April 28, 1936, to cover expenses incurred by Schwinn in the effort to bring the German-American groups together for the better dissemination of Nazi propaganda, his face turned alternately white and red and finally he exploded:

"Did Gyssling tell you that?"

"I'm not saying who told it to me. But let's get on with some of your other 'patriotic' activities. On Thursday, June 18, 1936, you visited Captain Trauernicht in company with Count von Buelow--"

For the first time since the interview began Schwinn sat upright in his chair as if I had struck him. All the other subjects had left him slightly disturbed but still with an obvious sense that he was not on particularly dangerous ground. But at the mention of Von Buelow's name a look of actual fear spread over his face.

"On that day," I continued, "you and the Count went directly to the Captain's cabin where you handed over your reports--"

"What are you getting at?" Schwinn demanded sharply.

"I'm getting at the Count. What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. I know nothing about him. I've met him, that's all."

"Have you ever visited his home at Point Loma, San Diego?"

Schwinn stared at me without answering.

"Have you ever been there?" I repeated.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Did you ever observe how, through his study windows, you could see almost everything going on at the American naval base--"

"I have nothing to say," Schwinn interrupted excitedly.

Among the men sent here directly by Rudolf Hess, Hitler's right-hand man, is a former German-American businessman named Meyerhofer. This Nazi came here with special instructions from Hess, a personal friend of his, to reorganize the Nazi machine in the United States. He arrived early in 1935 posing as a businessman. After consultations with Nazi leaders in New York, including the Nazi Consul General, he went to Detroit to confer with Fritz Kuhn, national head of the German-American Bund. From Detroit he went to Chicago where he held more conferences with Nazi agents and then went directly to Los Angeles for conferences with Schwinn, Von Buelow and other secret agents operating in the United States. Meyerhofer's mission was not only to reorganize the propaganda machine but to try to place it on a self-supporting basis so that in the event of war when funds from Germany would be cut off, an efficient Nazi machine could continue functioning.

It was with this knowledge in mind that I asked Schwinn what he knew about Meyerhofer. At the mention of his name the Nazi leader for the West Coast again showed a flash of fear. He hesitated a little longer than usual and then said in a low voice, "He is a member of our organization. He came from Germany about thirty or forty years ago." Suddenly he added, "He's an American citizen."

"I know he's an American citizen. But are you sure he didn't come from Germany--on his latest trip--in January of last year?"

Schwinn smiled a little wryly. "He might have," he said in the same low tone.

"He's a personal friend of Rudolf Hess--"

"Listen!" Schwinn exclaimed. "You're on the wrong track!"

"Maybe; but what's his business here?"

"He's a businessman!"

"What's his business?"

Schwinn shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said and then with growing excitement, "I tell you you're on the wrong track!"