Hossbach was a stoic man on the far end of middle age. “I’m sorry to bother you, mein Fuhrer, but-”

“But what?” Hitler demanded. “Whatever the devil it is, it had better be important.”

“Yes, sir. I believe it is.” Hossbach took a sheet of flimsy yellow paper from his left breast pocket. “Here is a telegram we have just received. You will know Herr Henlein has had to take refuge in the Reich because of Czech outrages…”

“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…!