19
24th November 1941
The Fuhrer hated the city of Berlin. Hitler had always preferred to live in Bavaria, where he had spent most of his formative years after the Great War. Erich and the Fuhrer had something in common. Berlin held too many bad memories for Erich. It was the capital, but it felt almost like a tomb to him. The people were stuffy and the atmosphere sterile.
“Herr Oberstgruppenfuhrer, I thought you would wish to read this report,” said his driver as they began the short leg to Berlin.
Erich blinked the sleep out of his eyes and accepted the report from the driver. He had flown from Warsaw to a military airfield east of Berlin when it was still dark. He rarely slept these days, giving his face a haggard look. Erich considered three or four hours a small victory.
He flipped open the report and read it through. It was a field report from the war in the Soviet Union. There were no secrets in this non-classified version of the report. It read more like a newspaper article without all the usual propaganda.
“Our forces are fighting with the Soviets.” Erich beamed with pride. “It should only be a matter of time before Stalin has to give in, if the old dog has the guts to admit when he’s beaten.”
Erich placed the report on the leather seat next to him. It was the first good news he’d had in weeks. The Nazi charge had been relentless. They were already pushing into the south of Russia. A victory there would cut off the Caucuses and open up the Soviet Union’s oil. Then there would be no stopping them. The Soviets could scorch as much earth as they pleased.
“The Fuhrer’s victory is going to be total soon enough, Herr Oberstgruppenfuhrer.”
“Indeed.” Erich wanted to punch the air, but he maintained his solemn countenance.
The rest of the trip to Berlin went by in silence. Erich picked up the report and read through it again. It sounded as if the Nazis were marching through completely unopposed until this point. The Soviets had finally decided they wanted a fight with the unbeatable 6th Army, leading the bulk of Army Group South. The temporary Soviet offensive would soon wither away, as they always did.
When they arrived in wartime Berlin Erich was alarmed to see the damage caused by Allied air raids. There was bomb damage everywhere, and some buildings had collapsed entirely. Erich had always known about the raids by the British, but they were nothing more than mosquitoes bothering the great Reich. Seeing the bomb damage first hand made him grit his teeth.
The driver took a longer route around to the central governmental district, where the Brandenburg Gate stood as a monument to Germany’s historical glories. The Unter den Linden, Berlin’s main boulevard continued to bustle as it always did.
“Leave me near the Reichstag,” said Erich.
The driver obeyed and Erich stepped out into the morning frost. The nearby Tiergarten’s foliage looked barren. He did note a copse of empty trees blackened by a stray bomb. He walked around the former Reichstag. A Dutch communist had burned it down and the Fuhrer had had no choice but to suspend many civil liberties to protect the nation. It was only a short walk to his apartment block.
Erich gazed up at it. The building had survived without a scratch. These were luxury apartments where army leaders and other officials lived. The apartments mainly covered whole floors, with more rooms than many people had in their houses. He raked his tongue across his teeth and prepared for battle. Hannah wasn’t the main reason he came. Erich came here to see his son Heinrich. He would be eight now and not too far away from achieving his ambition of joining the Hitler Youth.
Erich knocked when he reached his apartment door. He had a key but it didn’t feel right using it. This wasn’t his home any longer. Like the Fuhrer, the Reich was his home. It couldn’t be contained by any single abode. Hannah answered after a minute.
“Erich, I didn’t know you were coming.” Hannah displayed little to no surprise.
“Don’t lie to me, woman. I spoke to you three days ago to tell you when I would be coming.”
Hannah flicked her lashes at him. “Then I suppose you best come in. This is your home too.”
Erich didn’t look his wife up and down with the lust of a husband back from the front. He barely glanced at her as he moved into the apartment. She had put weight on and her hair had lost some of its colour. Those great wide eyes with the fanaticism purely on show hadn’t left her.
He made a turn of the apartment. It was strangely quiet. There were no sounds from his son, Heinrich. Nothing had changed in the apartment. It was like nobody had lived here at all. Erich stopped at the sofa and stared through the window overlooking Berlin. The skyline had noticeable blotches where British bombs had brought down buildings
“Where’s Heinrich?” Erich turned back to Hannah.
Hannah folded her arms. “He went to see his aunt in Cologne.”
“What?” Erich snapped. “You didn’t tell me this on the phone when I called you. I asked to see my son. Why is he there?”
Hannah jutted her jaw out at Erich. “How could I have told you when he left yesterday?”
“You bitch.” Erich stormed forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. He shook her so hard her head flung back and forth. Her hair fell across her face. “You sent him away because you knew I was coming, didn’t you? This is your way to spite me.”
Erich pushed her backwards. Hannah hit the floor hard and began to cry. Her hair covered her face, but she made no effort to disguise her wailing. Erich’s face tightened. He didn’t feel pity for her, only anger. Hannah had done this to spite him and nothing else. She knew he was rarely able to come to Berlin and now she had done this to him.
“Get up. You’re pathetic,” said Erich. Hannah didn’t move to rise. “I said get up, you nasty cow. Get up now or I’ll make sure you never get up again.”
Hannah moved the hair out of her eyes. They were red and tears carved grooves into the curves of her cheeks. She slowly got to her feet, taking as much time as she could. Erich wanted to plant his fist straight into her mouth. That same mouth she had used to have an affair with the soldier Clemens Veil, now currently fighting as part of Army Group South in Russia.
“You’re not going to hear the end of this, Hannah. You have no right to keep Heinrich from me. He’s my son as much as yours.”
Hannah didn’t say anything.
“I love Heinrich more than anything and I’ll kill for him if I have to, even if it’s you. It can be organised, you know?”
“You’re not going to scare me, Erich. Not now. I know what your work is and I know you kill people. It doesn’t scare me. You won’t kill me. I know you wouldn’t dare.”
Erich bit down on his tongue to stop himself from cursing. Sometimes he wished he could strangle Hannah and have her buried in a quiet place. But he couldn’t do it. It would create too many problems, and Heinrich still loved Hannah as much as he loved him. He couldn’t do that to his young son.
“Why don’t you meet your other son, Franz?”
Erich widened his glare at Hannah. “I have no other son. We had one child together and that’s it.”
“Franz has your last name. His name is Franz Brandt.”
Erich punched Hannah square in the face. His wife went down like a sack of heavy potatoes. She curled into a ball and began to weep openly. Hannah cupped her face as Erich saw the spots of blood between her fingers. He tried to get his breathing under control, but it kept coming out heavy and ragged. Erich shouted an obscenity and flipped the wooden coffee table on its back.
“That was your fault. You made me do it. You’re nothing but a little slut.” Erich kicked her in the back of the legs. “The Fuhrer would hang you. I should have you sent to Treblinka with the rest of the dirty, rotten Jews.” Erich kicked her in the back of the legs again.
Erich didn’t wait to see whether Hannah wanted another round. She knew which buttons to push and she knew how to hurt him. Well he could hurt too. And this time he had. Erich had never struck her before, but their relationship had fallen so far that she was nothing more than a piece of rubbish to him. He didn’t feel an ounce of guilt as he left the apartment without seeing his son.
You won’t keep him from me.
––––––––
Later that afternoon Erich decided to address the other reason why he’d chosen now to make his way to Berlin. He had called the voice’s bluff about Sabrina Waldner. It couldn’t be true that he had another child living somewhere. Sabrina had never been pregnant when they were together.
He made a call to an old party friend from the old days, who now worked in the Reich Interior Ministry. Gunther Brach arrived at one of the more fashionable restaurants in Berlin, close to the Reich Main Security Office. The restaurant on Kurfurstenstrasse was quiet and out of the way. It was why middle-ranking officials liked it so much. They came here to be seen.
“How long has it been?” Brach extended his hand with a warm smile on his face.
“Gunther, it must have been close to six or seven years since we last saw each other. Before you started working for the Interior Ministry. Please, sit down. I already ordered the wine.” Erich put a hand up. “And I’m not going to hear any arguments. I’m paying for this one. I invited you.”
“A gentleman as ever.” Brach deposited his briefcase on the ground next to him and sat down on one of the metal chairs with curved legs.
Erich figured the briefcase must contain secret documents if he hadn’t handed it over with his hat and coat. A low bubble of chatter made its way around the room, giving the brightly-lit restaurant a homely feel. Erich thought bitterly that he felt more at home here than in his actual home.
He allowed Brach to lead the conversation for a while as they drank wine and placed their orders. Erich was an old friend of Brach, but he didn’t want him to think that he’d only brought him here to ask for a favour he wasn’t owed. He hoped he would be open to Erich’s suggestion otherwise he would have to start threatening him.
“Tell me, Erich, why are you back in Berlin? I wouldn’t have thought an Oberstgruppenfuhrer of the SS would have much time to get back to the capital.”
Erich smiled without malice. Brach had led them nicely into what he wanted to talk about. “It doesn’t happen often. I spend most of my time posted in Warsaw. But I needed to make my way back to tie up some loose ends. Security and such that could impact the SS.”
Brach pushed his rounded glasses up his nose. The light above reflected on his black slicked-back hair. He had always been a bookish person. Brach had never participated in the physical beatings meted out during the Nazi Party’s early days.
“Can I ask what this business is?”
Erich shrugged. “It’s quite simple. I’m tracking down the history of a woman called Sabrina Waldner. I think I will need to approach the relevant authorities and request her records. But I’m scared that it could take too long and I’ll be out of Berlin by then. She knew a lot and had known ties to the resistance.”
Brach tilted his head and nodded, then picked up his half-full wine glass and swirled it around in his hand. Before taking a gulp, he inspected the top of the wine and took a deep whiff of it. “Then I may be able to help you there. I don’t know if you were aware but it’s possible for me to procure records due to my position. It would be possible for me to get what you need.”
Erich put on a face of mock surprise. “Really? That would be fantastic if you could get it for me. Her name was Sabrina Waldner and she was resident in Berlin. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a big file on her. She would have gone quiet, though. I believe she died before the war, but she might have some useful connections, so it’s up to me to find out more about this.”
Brach shook his head. “I can’t believe they have you trying to deal with this. It hardly seems like it’s any of your business.”
“It normally isn’t.” Erich leaned backwards in pretend exasperation. “But whenever it could lead back to the SS in Warsaw it falls to me. But it gave me a chance to come back to the capital, so I can’t complain too much.”
“When do you need it?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Then meet me here tomorrow and I’ll have what you need.”
––––––––
Brach returned to the restaurant the next day, as expected. Only this time Brach didn’t want to stay. He said he had to hurry back to work and almost ran out of the restaurant after delivering a set of documents to Erich. After he left, Erich had sat there stunned. Throughout his meal he idly flicked the corner of the brown cover on the sheaf of papers. He couldn’t look at Sabrina’s records in front of anyone. He felt queasy just thinking about reintroducing himself to a woman he’d once loved.
After his meal he took the records and went to the Tiergarten. It was large enough so he could lose himself in the narrow paths and the little streams. Few people had time to walk in the parks these days. Government officials were overworked and most others didn’t want to be that far from the nearest air raid shelters.
He made sure nobody was close to him and sat down on a bench. Erich smoothed out the folder on his lap and gathered himself. Brach had given him no indication of what he may or may not find here. Would it include anything about a child he’d never known, and that’s how the voice had managed to find it?
Good God, the Gestapo are good, thought Erich.
On the first page, where the Gestapo always wrote general information about their targets, they had managed to obtain a picture of Sabrina. Erich couldn’t help his eyes from welling up. He had fallen in love with that woman and he never thought he would see her face again. They had never taken any pictures together. Erich dearly wanted to unclip the picture and keep it for himself, but he knew it would compromise Brach. The file had to go back unchanged and untouched.
He flipped through page after page rediscovering the Sabrina he’d known, and finding out about the Sabrina he hadn’t known. There was even a story about her visiting Vienna and participating in an assassination there. Erich continued to go through the various pages until he concluded that he’d found out next to nothing about a potential child.
That man had to have lied about a child. The Gestapo would have known, or they would have known about someone he could go to.
According to this file, Sabrina’s family had all died long ago. Most of them had died before the Nazis had come to prominence. Erich sighed and flipped the file shut. Tucking it under his arm he made his way back to the restaurant again to meet Brach at the appointed time. As he walked he couldn’t help but feel that the voice did know something he didn’t. He hadn’t bluffed anything thus far.
––––––––
Erich and Brach headed towards the Wilhelmplatz. Dominating this part of Berlin was the Ordenspalais, a former palace of Prussian kings. Today it housed the Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, headed by that lapdog Joseph Goebbels. The high white-faced palace had a large balcony that Goebbels had occasionally used for peacetime rallies. So far the palace had survived air raids by the British.
“Her name is Anne Schilder?” said Erich to Brach.
“Yes, she was transferred here some years ago. Goebbels liked her and she became one of his secretaries.” Brach shrugged. “She was one of Sabrina’s best friends, according to this file. If you need to find out anything about the dead woman now this will be the one you want.”
“Very well, let’s go.”
Erich stepped forward only to have Brach jumping in front of him like a small child who wanted an ice cream. He stopped in his tracks with raised eyebrows.
“You shouldn’t just walk in there, Erich. They will want to know of your business. I presume that this is business you aren’t able to share with these people.”
Erich nodded. “I suppose you’re right, so what should I do instead?”
“Wait until she comes out of there instead. I can ask around for Anne Schilder and then when she comes out I’ll point her out.”
Erich nodded and moved to a bench on Wilhelmplatz. Brach scurried towards the Ordenspalais. Erich had power but he didn’t have the power to walk into any government department he wanted without having to take questions. The SS were supposed to be out in the field. He didn’t want to give out any indications about his true intentions.
I hope I don’t need to have you tortured, Anne.
20
Charlie sat in a chair dabbing his skin with ice cold water he’d made by grabbing a selection of icicles from the Warsaw apartment he’d commandeered. He moved regularly and planned nothing, turning up at the first abandoned apartment he saw. A hissing sound like the moment before a sheet of ice cracks underfoot rushed through his teeth. Even today the scars left by the horrific burns still ached. Fabiola had never confirmed whether they would ever heal fully.
Either way, Charlie knew he would remain disfigured forever. At least his wife in Paris had moved to divorce him after declaring to the authorities that he’d died. Charlie would have fought it, but he didn’t see much point. The chances are he wouldn’t survive the war. The fire had brought him closer to death than he had ever come before.
“Do you want me to help you?” said Lena from her place on the floor.
There was only a table and one chair in the abandoned apartment. She had spread out a blanket she had piled into her suitcase on their departure. Most of her clothes had lost their lustre, leaving her looking like almost every other woman in the city. The war had finally brought her low.
Charlie allowed water to drip from his fingers as he looked at her. “No.”
Lena went back to sitting and staring at the wall like a little girl in trouble. The sound of water splashing back into the chipped bowl broke the silence, but Charlie could feel Lena constantly glancing out of the corner of her eye at him. What was she expecting?
“Charlie.”
“Robert is going to wait. I’m going to get my pound of flesh from him. You just sit tight, love, and you might get out of this all right. Your husband’s going to pay big for you, and I want much more than money.” Charlie scoffed. “Not that money really matters in the world these days, does it?”
“Suppose not,” Lena said in a quiet voice.
“What?” Charlie snapped.
“I mean that it doesn’t matter much these days. The Nazis have made our currency useless, and even if you have all the money in the world, what can you buy? They give us nothing. Nobody has any money.”
Charlie stared at her with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and nodded. He wasn’t used to Lena speaking so frankly. It was true that over the past month of her captivity she had started to speak more. Her courage had grown, but it didn’t mean Charlie approved of it. Quiet, scared women were easier to keep as hostages.
A low tap on the bottom of the door moved up to the top of the door and made Lena shriek in fright. Charlie frowned in disapproval at her.
“Well open the door. Make yourself bloody useful. I know who it is.”
Lena looked at him with an expression of pure terror and made her way towards the door. She opened it and in walked the boy who he used to communicate with Robert when he wanted face-to-face meetings. Charlie had sent Robert on all manner of errands. It was part of his master plan.
“Nice to know you finally bothered to turn up.” Charlie shoved a small wad of Polish zlotys across the table. The boy made them disappear into his pocket with the deft touch of a pickpocket. “So you saw our mate Robert, did you, Albin?”
Albin nodded. “I did. Near the Saxon Palace, like you said.”
“And how was he? Has he done what I asked him?”
Albin laughed. “Oh he has. He’s got the SS to start looking for Johann again. Robert said that Erich Brandt wasn’t there, though, but he spoke to Christian Hetz instead and asked if that was okay. Looks like Robert had a good conversation. He’s got a black eye.”
Lena shuddered in the background. Albin didn’t seem to notice and barrelled on about everything that Robert had told him. The man had engaged his entire business in smuggling food and other resources into the ghetto. Charlie smiled and nodded. It shouldn’t take too long for Charlie to completely wipe out Robert’s businesses, or at least engage them so much they were only working for the resistance.
“Your husband has done well,” Charlie said to Lena. “I’m surprised he’s done that well, actually.”
“He asked when he would be getting his wife back.” Albin sent a cold gaze at Lena. “I didn’t say anything. Said he’d have to wait for another brick through the window.”
Charlie roared with laughter. “Surprised he keeps paying out to get that window replaced.”
Both Charlie and Albin had a good laugh at Robert’s expense. Every time they wanted to contact him Albin would launch a brick through his apartment window with a note attached. They didn’t really need to do that, but Charlie enjoyed making Robert feel real fear, the same fear he had instilled in others over his long career.
“When can I go back?” Lena’s timid voice barely made a dent in Charlie’s joviality.
Charlie blinked at her. “I haven’t decided yet. Depends on what happens now. He’s done a good lot for me, but I need more than that.”
“How much does one man need to do? He sounds like he’s done everything for you.”
Charlie threw the bowl of water into a wall to the side. It shattered and a vein popped up on his temple. The back of his head began to send jolts of pain through his skull, as it always did in his anger. “Done everything? He murdered all my friends. Every single one of them. This is all him.” Charlie advanced on her and drove his face ever closer. “You think that money is worth more than the lives of people who risked their lives for me and for this country?”
Tears began to form in Lena’s eyes again with every word he screamed at her. Charlie waited for her to say something. When she didn’t he released the breath he’d held inside. He kept cursing the Wesolowski name all the way back to the table.
“Albin, keep an eye on what the SS do. I want Johann flushed out. And when you find Johann Brandt I want you to make contact with him. Bring him to me. He’s a friend of mine and I want to connect with him again. It’s important.”
Albin’s face dropped. “Charlie, that’s not something I can do. I’ve never seen Johann in my life and the SS aren’t going to say anything.”
“I’m paying you, aren’t I, mate?”
“Yes, but –”
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you. It’s time for you to go if you keep wanting to get paid. This time I’ll pay you more than you’ve ever earned in your life if you bring Johann to me. He’s hiding underground and I need him found.”
Albin bowed his head in recognition.
“Give us a little bit and as soon as Robert’s businesses are done in we can send Lena back to her home.” Charlie looked at Lena. “Would you like that, love?”
Lena nodded.
“Course you would. Shouldn’t be too much longer now. And then when I’m done with you there’s going to be one condition. Robert never bothers me again. I don’t even want to hear his name.”
––––––––
Marek shook his head at Robert. The man had completely gone off the rails. He was destroying his businesses to get his wife back. Someone had taken her hostage and had decided to blackmail him. Marek hadn’t lifted a finger to do anything about it, but he still wanted Robert to resolve the issue. Robert knew too much and he didn’t need him trading information about their activities to secure her release.
Robert clutched his head on the glass-topped dining room table in Marek’s apartment. “I think I’m going to need another loan.”
Marek folded his arms. “I already gave you a loan. What did you do with the money?”
Robert spread his arms wide across the table. Marek grimaced as he contemplated the sweaty fingerprints left behind. “What money? I’ve spent it all trying to get my wife back. Lena is expensive, clearly. This person knows how valuable she is to me.”
Marek shook his head. “Not this time, Robert. You must understand that blackmailers will keep asking for more and more if they know you are going to pay. You are going to pay and so this will never end. You need to make it clear that this is the end.”
“But my wife...” Robert said in exasperation.
“Is fine. Once they believe that you have nothing more to give. They have no use for her and have no need to go through the motions of committing a murder. But we have more important issues to attend to. Johann knows.”
Robert sniffed. “Knows what?”
“That Vasya was murdered. I have yet to find out how he did, but he found his remains. Fighting, bombing, or something else blew open the shallow grave outside that factory. I was told by a boy under my employ that after the fighting Johann’s resistance cell investigated and found Vasya.”
“But it’s been months –”
“That makes no difference, Robert. The point is that there was enough of him left for Johann to find out that he was murdered. He was too far gone to have died recently and not far enough gone to be unrecognisable. He knows Vasya was murdered.”
Robert’s eyes widened as panic took over. He had experienced a deluge of bad news over the last few months. Marek sighed at Robert’s reaction. It was yet more evidence that Robert had completely and utterly broken. Marek concluded that Robert was of little more use. It was just a matter of disengaging himself.
“What are you going to do?” said Robert.
“Me?” Marek picked up his China cup with some authentic Indian tea in it and drank it with his little finger outstretched in the manner of a British gentleman. “Nothing. This is of no concern. It may cause Johann to investigate, but I have no reason to believe that he will be able to effectively trace it to us. We have nothing to worry about, my friend.”
Robert had the look of a man who wanted to vomit over himself.
Marek took the sugar tongs and dropped an extra lump into Robert’s tea. “You clearly need something sweeter to take your mind away from such things. Come.”
It took a couple of seconds for Robert to relax. He finally picked up the cup and sipped at it, not even taking the time to stir the sugar.
“Robert, I think it is time to discuss your future, and more importantly my future. It is time to move to another phase of things. I require you to go back into Germany.”
Robert’s face dropped. “What?”
“You heard what I said. I know it has been quite a while since you went back to the Fatherland, but now is the time. I require you to pick someone up for me.”
“Marek, no. I’m not going there. I’ll be killed if I’m caught.”
Marek leered across the table. In his silky smooth voice he began to speak, “Robert, if you do not go to Germany bad things are going to happen. If you carry this mission out successfully I will do all I can to save your wife and set you up for the rest of your life. Think about it. You will share in my wealth and you and Lena will never have to worry about your fate again.”
Robert’s jaw tightened. “What do you want me to do?”
Marek leaned back in his chair again. He wanted to smile, but he didn’t want to make Robert change his mind out of anger. Robert was too easy to manipulate. One threat or promise about his family and he would do whatever he wanted.
“I want you to go to Berlin. And in Berlin you will find the husband and wife known as Adolf and Matilda Goldblum. Before you leave I will provide you with the precise address. They have a son named Peter Goldblum. Bring this boy to me here in Warsaw. It must be done quietly and with no trouble. If necessary, you will use identity papers placing Peter as your son. These shall also be supplied to you prior to you leaving.”
Robert doubled over and stared at the floor. His cheeks bulged as he ran his tongue around his mouth. Marek looked away and enjoyed the sensation of sweet tea running down his throat again.
“Is this dangerous? Who are the Goldblums?”
“Nobody of any consequence, but their son could prove to be a valuable chip in the future. I realise that this is a potentially awkward situation to find yourself in, but I advise you to think of your own family. This is the mission that will assure your futures.”
Robert got up from his chair and guzzled down his tea. “When do you want me to go?”
“Preferably this evening. You must get there as soon as you can. I sense that we are running out of time.”
––––––––
Erich awaited the appearance of Anne Schilder. Brach had given him a full description. She was wearing a brown skirt and had a fat figure that looked like a sausage with too much meat inside the casing. The same Brach hung back from him in the middle of the square. It had already passed five and her shift would end soon. Erich bounced on the balls of his feet to release the tension. He still hadn’t formulated a plan for what he would do with Anne, or what he would do if she didn’t want to speak.
“Do you see her, Gunther?” said Erich.
Brach squinted through his glasses at the groups of officials leaving the propaganda ministry. “The woman on her own. Brown coat. Checking her purse now.”
Erich scanned the crowd. Anne dug around in her purse outside the main doors. Erich thanked Brach and began to march his way towards her. He had dressed in full SS uniform, so anyone he came across averted their gazes and moved out of the way. Anne didn’t see him until he was a mere foot away. The fat woman wouldn’t dare make a break for it now. She wouldn’t make it more than a few steps.
“Oh my god.” Anne almost dropped the bag.
“Anne Schilder?”
Anne nodded. “I...I think I know you.”
Erich glared at her with such ferocity his eyes almost popped out of his skull. How could it be possible that Anne thought she knew him?
“Well I don’t know you. This is the first time I’ve come across you. But I think you should come with me and we can have a more in-depth discussion.”
“Please...no. Please don’t. I haven’t done anything.” Her pitch grew higher and higher with every word.
Erich moved to her side and clung to her elbow, forcing her to walk close to him. She hugged her purse to her stomach, and Erich could hear her erratic breathing as she did her best to stay calm. He spoke low into her ear. Anne might be his last link to Sabrina and he didn’t want to frighten her into silence.
“I’m not taking you to a prison,” said Erich under his breath. “I really meant it when I said I only wanted to talk.”
His words didn’t calm Anne. She started to dig her heels into the concrete and slow their progress down. Erich stopped tugging on her.
“Where would you like to go, Anne? This is an informal conversation. It has nothing to do with my job. I’m asking you to trust me.” Erich smiled awkwardly. “I’m here to be your friend.”
Anne still viewed him with pure fear. “I’m sorry...I don’t trust you. What are you going to do with me? I don’t want to be tortured. There’s nothing I know. I’ve only done my best for Doctor Goebbels.”
Erich smiled again. “I understand. These things can be terrifying. However, I do need to talk to you. Maybe you’d like to stay in this square instead, if it’ll make you feel more comfortable?”
Anne nodded and led Erich to the statue of the Prussian King Leopold the First, Prince of Anhalt-Dessau. The 18th century German hero towered over the square on his dark horse. Erich made sure to close her in against the base to stop her from running, if she was stupid enough.
“What did you mean by you think you know me?”
Anne went white at that question.
“These questions aren’t going to get much easier so you better tell me now. I’m not going to take no for an answer. This can go on for the rest of the day, if it has to.”
Anne still didn’t say anything. Erich could feel his patience starting to slip again, but he needed to remember they were in public. This wasn’t an official mission and he didn’t need anyone asking questions. It could compromise him.
“I’m here to talk about Sabrina Waldner. Does the name mean anything to you?”
The sudden look of shock on Anne’s face said it did. According to Brach, they had been close friends and had even worked at the same place. Erich wondered if Anne had helped Sabrina in her efforts to aid the resistance.
“She was my friend. I knew what she was doing with you, Erich.”
Erich smirked. “So you do know my name, after all.”
Anne nodded. “I met your brother, Johann. He told me what I already knew. Oh Sabrina tried to keep it quiet, but I saw her leave with you a few times. The first time I thought you were trying to spy on her. But after the second time...I knew what you two were doing.” Erich tilted his hat at Anne to bid her to continue. “You murdered her, didn’t you?”
Erich threw Anne against the base of the statue. The back of her head cracked against it and he clutched it. Erich took a step back. He hadn’t meant to do that. He didn’t mean to strike her in public. Erich swung around, checking if anyone had seen him. If they had they had already moved on. People knew better than to ask questions of an SS officer.
“Don’t ever say that again.” Erich thrust a gloved finger at her. “Sabrina’s death was unexplained. That’s what her file said and that is what happened to her. How did Sabrina die, Anne?”
Anne still clutched her head as tears streamed down her face. “Nobody knows how Sabrina died.”
“That’s right.” Erich readjusted his peaked hat. “Right. I have heard rumours that Sabrina was hiding a terrible secret. I did discover that she was part of the resistance, but there were also rumours of a child. People were saying that she might have given birth in secret and that child is still here today.”
Anne shook her head. “No.”
Erich sneered at her and stuck his face into hers as far as it could go without touching. He lowered his voice to a sinister, threatening drawl. “Anne, I’m going to take you, your husband, and your child. I’m going to take them to a prison cell and torture them. And I’m going to keep them alive just so I can torture them even longer. That’s if you don’t answer me without lying.”
Anne dropped to her knees and clasped her hands together in prayer. Erich grinned at Anne bowing to him like a God. Right now he knew what the Fuhrer felt like when his enemies fell to their knees to beg for forgiveness. It was a taste of power he wanted to experience forever.
“Tell me everything, Anne. God won’t save you. The only God in Germany is the Fuhrer, and the Fuhrer wouldn’t save you either. Now answer me.”
“Sabrina had a child. Sabrina had a child.” Anne still rang her hands together. “His name was Peter and your brother helped take him to a foster family to hide him from you. Just please leave my family alone. We’ve always served Germany faithfully.”
Erich licked his lips at what he had just heard. So the voice had been right after all. But that man wouldn’t have counted on him discovering this fact and finding someone who could take him to this child. Soon he would have another son that Hannah couldn’t touch and the voice would have nothing. He was torn between feelings of victory and feelings of euphoria at the revelation that he had a secret son.
“Where is my son?”
“I...I haven’t seen him since that day. But I could help you find him.”
Erich nodded. “You know for hiding my son from me that could be considered to be acting against the Reich on behalf of an enemy of the state?”
Anne’s face dropped.
“But I’m prepared to forget it ever happened since you’ve been so helpful. Your family are safe. Just show me where they live and I’ll take it from there. Don’t trouble yourself with this again.” Erich reached his hand out and lifted her back to her feet.
“Oh God, what have I done?”
21
Adolf and Matilda Goldblum lived in the southern suburbs of Berlin. These apartment blocks lacked the finishing touches found on the facades of the ones in the centre. Berlin had grown over the years as people flocked to the Fuhrer and these represented an attempt by the city to accommodate the growing number of people. Erich looked up at the simple shoebox-like apartment building and shook his head.
Could my son really have grown up in such small rooms?
Erich had dismissed Anne after forcing the exact address out of her. She had cried and wept when he revealed what he wanted, but there was nothing she could do about it. He wouldn’t hesitate to murder her if she stood between him and Peter Brandt.
He made his way to the top floor and the final door along the corridor. It looked out on a tree-lined boulevard, untouched by the air raids. Erich knocked on the door. He waited, thinking what he might say to these people. Did he go in demanding they hand over their child or did he explain the situation? Erich banged on the door again. There was still no answer.
Fine, if you want it that way.
Erich thudded his boot into the door. He kicked it again and again until the lock broke and the front door swung open. He expected to hear screams but only saw a dark apartment bathed in shadow. It had all the hallmarks of an apartment someone had recently occupied. There was even a radio sitting on a table in front of the little living and dining room combination.
He moved through the other rooms until he came to what looked like a child’s bedroom. At least the couple had money enough to buy Peter his own little bed. Erich nudged one of the little wooden cars across the carpet. There was even a model aeroplane from the First World War hanging from his ceiling. Erich knew his son had been here recently. He felt sorry that he’d lost his temper and kicked the door in. The chances were the family had gone out for the day.
Erich frowned and closed the door behind him. He would return the next day, and then he would be taking his child home.
The next day he returned again. He placed his hand on the front door and eased it open. The lock hadn’t been repaired. A cold feeling in the pit of his stomach made him stop. The family hadn’t returned home since he’d last visited. Erich wanted to reason that they could have left to visit relatives, but his fear grew every day.
Where could you have gone?
––––––––
Robert drove like a madman through the quiet country lanes across Poland. The size of the country, and the war raging in the east, meant the Nazis stuck to the main roads. There was little point in placing checkpoints at every road in the country. They needed the troops to fight the Battle of Moscow and push forward across the whole width of the Russian heartland.
“Could you please slow down?” said Adolf Goldblum.
The little man with a half-circle of hair curving its way behind his ears and around the back of his head had gone pale. He twitched his greying moustache with the same disapproval his own father had elicited when Robert was younger. Matilda Goldblum, his wife, looked forward like a soulless statue carved out of bronze.
Robert slowed the car down, just so he could talk over the roar of the engine. It was an old early 1920s car and it couldn’t master high speeds without creating a loud roar from the engine.
“I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be. I don’t have any papers for any of you. None that are going to stand up to any real scrutiny. The quicker we get into Warsaw the sooner my friend can help.” Robert threw the car into high speed again and they rattled down the road.
Peter Goldblum had taken everything in with the stoicism of a war hero. At no more than five he had stayed quiet when he needed to stay quiet and hadn’t complained when his parents couldn’t resist the urge. He sat quietly and observed the scenery. Robert found it quite uncanny for such a young child to manage things so well.
Robert guided the car into Warsaw through a number of quiet streets he knew. He had become something of a master of coming in and out of the city unseen. It still made him break out into cold sweats, but he found his way to the spot where he hid the car without any problems at all. Marek would be delighted with his catch, and soon Lena would be in his arms again.
He took them through much of the city on foot. They dodged between Wehrmacht soldiers, turning down alleys whenever they saw them coming. If they were inspected that would be the end as they had no papers. They got to the Mokotow district just after lunch. Robert took the Goldblums upstairs and told them to stand aside whilst he dealt with Marek. He hadn’t explained the situation to them, only warning Adolf and Matilda that their son was in danger from his real father.
Marek answered the door in one of his vividly coloured smoking jackets. Today it was plum and he held a thin smoking pipe made from ivory in his hand. He regarded Robert coolly.
Robert removed his hat and used it to wipe his brow. “I got what you wanted. Marek, this is Adolf and Matilda, along with their son.”
Robert motioned for the family to come into the doorway. He inspected Marek’s reaction, knowing he had only asked him to bring the child. He just didn’t have the heart to split them up when he had seen such a happy family enjoying life together. Shattering the family wasn’t an option.
“A pleasure to meet you,” said Marek with the professional grace that came easily to him – when he wanted it to. “Come in. I can make you some drinks.”
The family moved past him and Robert. Marek took the time to give Robert an angry glare. By the time Marek had turned back to the Goldblums, the cheerful exterior had returned again. They turned down his drinks and asked for tea, which he made with no complaints. He offered two China cups to Adolf and Matilda, with Peter occupying himself with Marek’s bookshelf and a glass of water.
“If you will excuse me, this is all rather sudden.” Marek smiled. “I think it best if I take Robert outside to speak with him privately.”
The family agreed and Marek motioned to Robert to go outside into the corridor. At that point Robert realised he’d made a mistake. Like a schoolboy preparing to visit the headmaster for a caning, he trudged into the corridor. Marek closed the door behind him and turned to Robert with a look of fury.
“Have you gone stupid? I trusted you to bring the boy to me. You brought the whole damn family here. What am I supposed to do with them?”
Robert gulped. “It wasn’t that I wanted to bring them, but what choice did I have? They’re Germans and the authorities would be searching for me if I just snatched Peter.”
“I don’t care, you fool. I had plans for Peter. I had accommodations for him, but I have nothing for his parents.”
“You can find somewhere.” Robert shrugged. “There are so many abandoned apartments in the city that it shouldn’t be that hard to find something. Don’t tell me that you don’t have properties for things like this.”
Marek’s eyes had a murderous glint in them. It made Robert shudder. For him, that look was worse than Marek’s shouting.
He thrust a finger at Robert. “You listen to me. It is more than that. I can find them a place to stay, but I now need to find them some fake identity papers. These people are also German. They do not speak a word of Polish. We speak both languages, but how are they supposed to survive in a country like this when all they speak is German?”
Robert had nothing to say to that. Marek was right. He could feel his face grow hot as he realised his mistake. Peter’s lack of Polish didn’t matter. His lack of identity papers didn’t matter much either. So many young children didn’t have proper registration in these chaotic times. Robert couldn’t say the same for the adults.
“Get rid of them.” Marek gritted his teeth.
“What do you mean get rid of them? I drove them all the way from Berlin. It wasn’t an easy thing. It was hard enough telling them why they have to leave.” Robert’s voice started to increase in pitch and run faster. “Besides, it’s better for Peter to have his parents with him, in a strange country. Are you going to act as his father?”
Marek puffed away on his ivory pipe and blew the smoke into Robert’s face. “You make an excellent point. I have no intention of becoming a father to this boy. No, the parents may prove useful, but this changes nothing. They are a liability that must be dealt with.”
“So you’re going to help me find Lena?”
Marek nods. “You have done what I asked for, even if there were some changes to the original brief. I will lend you all my resources and will help to track down your wife. It should not be too difficult. I know most people of importance in this city.”
Robert grinned for what felt like the first time in weeks. As he left Marek to care for his new guests he decided he would no longer carry out the wishes of this hostage taker. He didn’t care about collaborating with the Jews or the Nazis. They could all go to hell now he had Marek on his side.
22
20th January 1942
Erich had remained in Berlin all this time in an attempt to track down the Goldblum family. They had vanished without a trace. Christian had taken over his duties in Warsaw, unofficially. What Erich had done was highly illegal and could get him relieved of his command, but he needed to find the Goldblum family. He couldn’t risk the voice blackmailing him for the rest of his life, or even worse actually finding something concrete to blackmail him with.
He rented an apartment close to where Hannah lived, close to Potsdamer Platz on the other side of the Brandenburg Gate. From here he could feel the pulse of Berlin and keep an eye on Hannah as she left the apartment. He never did see Heinrich. It was like Hannah knew he was there and had purposely kept him away from the city.
The black telephone next to the door rang.
“Hello?” said Erich.
“Erich, my friend. It has been too long since we’ve spoken. I would say it has been a good two months. How are you?”
Erich squeezed the life out of the handset. The man’s voice came through the line so clearly he may as well have been in the room next to his. “How did you get this number?”
“I can get anything, my friend. You must have resided here for a certain length of time for me to find out where you were. I find it curious how you seem to have avoided Warsaw. In fact, I find it curious that they allowed you to abandon your command.”
“That’s none of your damn business.”
“No, perhaps not,” said the voice. “I know why you went to Berlin. You wanted to find out whether your son was indeed there. And he was, was he not?”
Erich didn’t say anything.
“I will take your silence as an admission. You see, Erich, I have your child with me now. Peter Goldblum is his name, or to you he would be Peter Brandt. He’s a healthy young boy and he has taken to his new family as if Matilda gave birth to him herself. You must see that I hold all the cards now.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Want from you? I want to destroy you, Erich. You stand in the way of everything I want to accomplish. I will tear you apart. The games have come to an end and, as the spider devours the fly, I have no desire to continue this charade with you. The relevant information was sent to the chief of the Gestapo this morning.”
“Who are you?” Erich shouted into the phone.
But the line went dead. Erich tried to swallow but he couldn’t, so heavy was the shock. He never thought it would get this far. Erich let the phone fall from his hands. The handset clattered to the floor and dangled from the edge of the table. He had been foolish to risk his career for Sabrina. Love shouldn’t have come into it. She had played him like a fool and now her vengeance came from beyond the grave.
Erich clutched his hat in his hands like a drowning man reaches for a lifeboat. He considered resigning and he considered trying to find a way to fight back. Then he straightened his hat out and popped it on his sleek blond hair. All he could do was carry on with his business as if nothing happened.
––––––––
Reinhard Heydrich, the head of the Gestapo, chaired the meeting at Wannsee, a retreat in the forests on the far outskirts of Berlin. A small lake spanned the main venue where the conference was held. When Erich arrived he didn’t have time to stop and chat to anyone lingering outside. A round of Hitler salutes followed him into the building and he joined the nearly full conference room.
Hitler had tasked Heydrich to come up with the final solution to end the Jewish problem for good. A selection of faces stood in the bright winter sunshine flowing through the windows, some he knew and some he didn’t. He recognised Otto Hoffman, the head of the SS Race and Settlement Main Office, Adolf Eichmann, the head of the Gestapo recording agency, and Dr. Alfred Meyer of the Reich Ministry for the Occupied Eastern Territories. Over twenty people sat around a long conference table.
Heydrich stood at the head of the table with reports and documentation in front of him. Erich took the seat furthest away. Right now he didn’t want to look Heydrich in his cold eyes. Did he already know about his own Jewish heritage? What did he think about this information? Would he do anything about it?
“Welcome, gentlemen. We are here today to discuss the Jewish problem. The Fuhrer has asked me to brief you all on my ideas and thoughts regarding dealing with the Jews in Europe.” Heydrich scanned the room to make sure he had captivated everyone. “A report prepared by Oberststurmbannfuhrer Eichmann estimates there are eleven million Jews in Europe. With the previous plan to deport the Jews to Madagascar suspended due to the progress of the war, we need another solution.”
Erich stopped listening as he contemplated his future. He barely heard what Heydrich said about the report delivered to him by Eichmann. This went on for about twenty minutes when Heydrich began to launch into his master plan.
Erich began to listen again as Heydrich entered into the nuts and bolts of his plan.
“Under proper guidance, in the course of the final solution the Jews are to be allocated for appropriate labour in the East. Able-bodied Jews, separated according to sex, will be taken in large work columns to these areas for work on roads, in the course of which action doubtless a large portion will be eliminated by natural causes. The possible final remnant will, since it shall undoubtedly consist of the most resistant portion, have to be treated accordingly, because it is the product of natural selection and would, if released, act as the seed of a new Jewish revival.”
Nobody along the two rows of smiling faces needed to ask what any of that met. The Nazis always spoke in a sort of code. To the outsider their speeches and orders were vague and apparently unspecific. To those present they were direct and clear. All Jews transported to the East would be murdered.
Heydrich went on for an hour and took questions for another thirty minutes. Erich didn’t participate in this discussion. He didn’t expect to have anything to do with this Final Solution. The chances are his position wouldn’t survive any longer than a couple more days. Erich took in the surroundings and considered whether this would be his final official conference.
Another informal conversation followed for another thirty minutes until the conference finally broke apart and the various ministers and officials went to begin the work and toil that would bring the plan to fruition. Erich also rose from his seat. He wiped his clammy palms on his jacket and made to leave, but Heydrich called his name from across the room.
Erich licked his lips and turned to Heydrich.
Heydrich strode across the room towards him. “Erich, it has been too long since we have spoken in person. I think we have a number of things to discuss.”
“About these plans?” said Erich tentatively.
Heydrich levelled him with that cold, icy gaze again. “Of course. Please, I think we should take the air. Wannsee is a rather picturesque venue.”
They collected their hats and coats at the door and went down the steps onto the little path that would take them around the edge of the lake. With the sun shining down upon it the water turned a cool blue. Little birds skimmed the surface of the mirror-like lake and reached their branches to sing their tunes. Erich couldn’t enjoy the surroundings. He wasn’t sure he would enjoy anything ever again.
Heydrich clasped his hands behind his back as they walked at a slow, leisurely pace. “Erich, I have been preparing these plans for a long time now. I have taken great care in my decisions as to where the Jews should go. And I am confident that the right decisions have been made.”
“I agree with you,” said Erich. “All we can do is get rid of them by sending them east. They need to be bred out of the population. They’ve caused the world more problems than any other people. Many of the resistance members in Warsaw are Jewish.”
“Indeed, as in Prague and the surrounding areas. But I dare them to take me on. That is why I ride in an open-top car. I dare them to take me. I shall get out of the car and slaughter them myself. Unlike some, I will not travel with more than one bodyguard. I serve the Fuhrer, but I do not trade freedom for it. I refuse to live in a golden cage.”
“As you shouldn’t,” Erich said knowing full well he himself travelled with as many bodyguards as he could find when he went out into Warsaw.
They walked further and further away from the conference venue. Most of the attendees would have left for their respective posts now. Heydrich seemed to relish in the silence. He showed no enjoyment in his surroundings, leaving his steely expression unchanged. But that was Heydrich. Erich couldn’t take it any longer.
“Erich.” Heydrich raised his voice at last. “You were not really there during the conference today, were you?”
Erich shook his head.
“And I know why. This morning I received startling evidence of a serious transgression some years ago. I believe you know exactly what I’m talking about, so there’s no need to go into it. As the head of the Gestapo I have the duty to inform you that you are in serious trouble.”
Erich bowed his head. The voice hadn’t bluffed after all. Heydrich wasn’t a man who could be easily fooled. Erich knew he’d come to the end of the line.
“Consorting with a resistance fighter marks you as a blood traitor. To make things worse the woman gave birth before she died. I presume it was you who murdered her.” Heydrich’s icy eyes seemed to glint as he said it. “At the very least you extinguished part of this sorry episode.”
“Reinhard, please. This was years ago. I did my best to stop it from getting out and I regretted it, but I don’t know who sent this information to you.”
“Are you denying it?”
“No.” Erich’s tongue was so dry he could barely form the words. “No, I’m not. It’s true. Every little bit of it is true. There’s nothing I can do to deny it. There was a child, but I didn’t know about it until recently or I would have done something about it. I tried to find my son, but I was too late and they disappeared.”
Heydrich raised his eyebrows. “It’s a good thing you decided to tell me the truth or I would find it difficult to keep you as a friend. But this changes nothing. The fact is you have committed one of the gravest sins that can be committed in the Reich. The Fuhrer would not forgive you. I suggest you resign, immediately.”
Erich sighed. He’d expected these words to come all morning. “Can’t you help me, Reinhard?”
Heydrich shook his head. “Information can rarely be destroyed, particularly when the evidence is a living thing. I am giving you the chance to resign. Any other man may have executed you.”
“Then I resign.”
“Good. Good, Erich. Such a story could be extremely compromising for the government. You have put the future of the Reich above all else. And for that you are going to be rewarded. This information may not be able to be suppressed, but your quiet removal will be enough to satisfy the bloodlust of others.”
“What’s going to happen to me?”
Heydrich bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet. Erich didn’t in the least expect Heydrich to put a comforting arm around him and tell him it was going to be okay. Heydrich always kept his distance. He didn’t have a true inner circle.
“Erich, I recommend you continue your service within the SS. Himmler will be more than happy to see you volunteer to lead an Einsatzgruppen squad on the Eastern front. We shall say that you were inspired by what you heard here today.”
“I’ll take it,” Erich said without thinking.
“In which case I believe we have nothing more to say. You have a few days to resolve your affairs in Warsaw and you’ll be then transported to the Russian front. From there you can start your new work. And don’t worry, Erich, you will never hear about this again.”
Heydrich left him standing on the edge of the lake. He strode away with the speed of a man who didn’t want anyone to join him on the way back.
Erich stood and looked out at the lake. A tear fell from the corner of his eye. He chased it off with a gloved finger. His position would have given him an even greater position one day. And from there he would be by the Fuhrer’s side on a regular basis. His dreams were nothing but scattered leaves disintegrating with the winter frosts on the forest floor. He tried to be grateful for the second chance he’d received, but he couldn’t.
All he felt was bitterness.