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15 |Vogel Residence Berlin, Nazi Germany January 30, 1945
Kriminalinspektor Wolfgang Vogel yawned and pressed his forehead against the cool wood of the door to his apartment. He closed his burning eyes for a moment before inserting his key in the lock and turning it, ending what had been a long, exhausting day.
They all were.
Being a detective inspector in the Kriminalpolizei was a tough job even in normal times. Before the war, he had investigated crimes, just as he did now, though without the added stresses of bombings, blackouts, rationing, and panic.
And he had always had his wife and children there to support him.
But tonight he was entering an empty apartment.
Yet again.
It had been a heart-wrenching decision sending his wife and children away, yet there had been little choice. Once Berlin began to be bombed in earnest, he knew it was time, though his wife had fought him every step of the way. Once it was clear that the Russians were winning on the Eastern Front, the argument had been settled.
There was no way he would let his family be taken by the Russians.
He had relatives in the southwest of Germany, an area where he was confident the Americans or British would arrive at first, and living under occupation with them would be far preferable to the Soviet Red Army.
It was the right decision, but it hadn’t made it any easier.
He pushed open the door, and his neighbor’s door behind him burst open.
“Herr Vogel! Thank God you’re here!”
He closed his eyes for another brief respite and sighed before turning to face what was clearly a very agitated Erika Lang. “Yes, Frau Lang? What can I do for you?”
“My Hermann! He never came home!”
She was clearly in a state, and her cries were echoing down the empty hallway. He ushered her back into her apartment and closed the door. “Please calm down, Frau Lang. Why don’t you start from the beginning? When was he supposed to be home?”
“Two days ago.”
“From his assignment in Poland?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He directed her to a chair, then sat across from her. “We are at war, Frau Lang. To be late by a day or two is hardly unheard of.”
She sighed, wringing a handkerchief gripped in her hands. “Yes, I know, and Herr Maier said the same thing.”
Vogel’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Oh, my friend’s husband. He’s an engineer too. He works with my husband on occasion.”
“He sounds like a wise man.”
She agreed. “And a friendly one, or at least I thought so until today.”
“Why, what happened?”
“I went over to visit Frau Maier and see if her husband had seen my Hermann, because I knew they worked together. He said he hadn’t, but when I told him about the car, he became scared and kicked me out, telling me to never come back again!”
She wailed, and Vogel cringed, stepping closer and patting her on the shoulder. “That’s all right, I’m sure there’s just some sort of misunderstanding that can all be sorted out with time.” His eyes narrowed as he picked up on something she said. “What car?”
She pointed at the window. “Just look, I’m sure it’s still there.”
Vogel stepped over to the window and moved the blackout curtain slightly, quickly spotting the idling car across the street. He closed the curtain back before the air raid warden noticed, and sat across from Frau Lang. “Tell me about this car.”
She blew her nose then dabbed her eyes dry. “I-I first noticed it this morning when I left to see Michaella—Frau Maier. Two men inside a black car with a dented rear fender. I noticed them following the streetcar, then park across from the Maiers’ apartment building. Then when I got home, I looked outside, and it was there again.”
Vogel frowned. The woman was probably paranoid, as there was no reason he could think of for anyone to have any interest in her, though there was one way to find out. “Wait here.”
He left the apartment and hurried down the stairs, stepping out into the chill, then crossed the street. He pressed his identification against the driver’s window, and it rolled down.
“Go away.”
He knelt down and quickly evaluated the two men. Young, committed, Nazi Party pins on their leather jackets, hair closely cropped.
Poster boys for the Reich.
And that meant they were dangerous, though unimportant within the organization—senior Gestapo agents would not be assigned to watch the wife of a lowly engineer.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
The driver stared at him, as if in shock at the gall being displayed. “We are on a mission for the Führer. You will leave at once, and forget you ever saw us.”
Vogel smiled. “Of course, of course, though if you are following Frau Lang, she spotted you this morning. If you’re expecting her to do anything untoward, I can assure you, you’ll be waiting a very long time. She’s a loyal citizen, and a friend.”
“This is none of your concern.”
Vogel nodded. “You’re right. The Gestapo’s business isn’t any of mine. I thought I’d just save you some time. Goodnight, gentlemen.” He rose and snapped out a salute. “Heil Hitler!”
He suppressed a smile as the two men instinctively returned the salute awkwardly within the confines of their car. He turned and headed back to his apartment, the sound of the car pulling away confirming Frau Lang’s suspicions.
They were following her, and now that they knew she knew, there was little point in remaining.
He tried to read the plate as it pulled away, but with the blackout, there was no hope. He took the steps two at a time, and gently knocked on Frau Lang’s door. It was yanked open immediately.
“Was I right?”
Her eyes were wide with panic, and he hesitated to tell her what he had discovered, though the woman deserved the truth. There might be some reason they were following her, and if she thought they weren’t, she might continue that activity, forcing the Gestapo to pick her up.
And whatever trivial matter they suspected her of, he was certain didn’t merit her facing interrogation and torture.
“I believe so,” he said in as calm a voice as possible, gently ushering her inside and into her chair. He sat across from her. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re gone now.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?”
“It’s possible, but you’ve done nothing wrong. Just go about your daily business, otherwise they might think you are up to something. We don’t know how long they’ve been watching you, but it’s been at least a day, and if they haven’t picked you up yet, then I doubt they will. They’ll probably move on to someone more interesting shortly, if they haven’t already.”
This calmed the woman slightly. “But what about my Hermann?”
Vogel smiled reassuringly at her. “I’ll tell you what. If he’s not here tomorrow morning when I go to work, I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Not tonight?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m just too exhausted. I’ve been traveling for two days and am dead tired.” He rose, smiling at her. “But I promise, first thing in the morning, okay?”
She was clearly disappointed, but nodded. “Very well.” She stood. “Thank you, Herr Vogel.”
“No problem.” He headed for the door and stepped into the hallway. “Goodnight, Frau Lang.”
“Goodnight.”
She closed the door, and he stepped inside his own empty, lonely apartment. He pulled off his shoes then dropped onto the bed, his arms spread out to his sides as his muscles ached. It had been a long trip, but he had solved the case, catching the black marketeer red-handed. Yet it was an unsatisfying victory, the operation also netting far too many desperate Germans purchasing his illicit goods out of necessity.
And now they were all in custody.
He sighed.
I can’t wait until this war is over and I can just be a police officer again.
He thought of Hermann Lang, and where he might be. His instinct initially had been that he was merely delayed. If anything had happened to him, he was certain they would have notified her already. But with the Gestapo watching her, he had to assume something more was going on here, and now that he had confronted them, he too might be on their radar.
And that was never a good thing.
Yet despite his conscious mind making him worry about the implications, he soon drifted into a deep sleep, the Langs’ problems, and perhaps now his, left to wait until morning.