“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…”