Mother Daughter Traitor Spy by Susan Elia MacNeal

Author:Susan Elia MacNeal [MacNeal, Susan Elia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2022-09-20T00:00:00+00:00

Inside was dim and cool. A poster for Jud Süß was displayed on an easel in front of the concession stand; Süss’s demonic face, with a large, hooked nose and yellow eyes, peered out from the darkness. Her stomach churned. “It’s a beautiful theater,” Veronica said. At least that’s honest.

“Would you like anything?” he asked. “Chocolate? Candy?”

Veronica looked at the colorful sweets displayed behind the glass, but felt nauseated. “No—no, thank you.”

“Ah, good,” he said. “I hate popcorn—in Austria we only feed corn to the pigs. It’s unheard of for people to eat.”

They entered the theater. It was grand, with orchestra seating and two balconies; Veronica estimated it could hold at least eight hundred people, and it was nearly full. The theater was crowded with respectable-looking men in suits and women in straw hats with ribbons and flowers, chatting, laughing, and smoking.

“Jud Süß is one of Goebbels’s favorite films,” Will told her as they took their red velvet seats. “We were able to get this copy a bit early.” He grinned modestly. “I have connections.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes—you must have them to succeed in the import business.”

Veronica realized it felt strange to be in a theater again. Since she’d moved to Los Angeles and begun working for Ari and Jonah, she hadn’t been to a single movie. She’d missed Pride and Prejudice with Laurence Olivier and Greer Garson, and would have much preferred to see Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent, about an American reporter in London who exposes undercover German agents. Can’t imagine that would go over well with Will, though, she thought, and swallowed a hysterical giggle.

“Although the Jews don’t want these movies shown,” he told her. “They don’t like us showing German pictures to Americans. They’ve been trying to shut us down at the Pacific Electric Theater and the Criterion, too.”

“Isn’t that against free speech?” she asked, knowing the Jew he was referring to was Lewis.

“You’d think!” He gazed approvingly at her. “My films show Germany in a good light, of course. So, these Jews, they go to my landlords at the various theaters and threaten them with boycotts if they don’t kick me out. Now, every time I try to sign a new lease, some damn Jew intervenes.” He looked momentarily embarrassed. “My apologies for the language.”

“But you’re able to show films here, at this theater?”

“For now,” he replied. “And I’ll fight to keep showing these films. This is America! We have the First Amendment here!”

“You work with UFA?” she asked. Jonah had schooled her in Goebbels’s film company and propaganda.

He looked down at her, impressed. “Yes, their Continental Films division.”

“Look who has contacts in high places!” she said, trying to flatter him.

“UFA’s keen to show people in the U.S. the best of Germany.” As Veronica looked up at the ceiling, covered with gilt panels, he continued, “I’m angry how movies in America depict Hitler—as a clown, a buffoon. There’s a film coming out this fall, The Great Dictator, with Charlie Chaplin—a mockery! Disgraceful! It’s the Jewish influence, of course—the new production code Joseph Breen forced through—”

“I read about it,” she said, frowning.

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