“Is he dead?”
“No, just injured. He’s in the hospital in Prague. Reichsführer’s personal physician flew out to take care of him.”
I covered my face with both hands and rested my elbows on the table, bitter disappointment filling my eyes with tears. So Marek’s friends failed after all, and the man who’s responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of innocent people every day exterminated in different camps will get to live. The heartless animal who provoked Kristallnacht and ordered to burn down synagogues with people in them all over the country will get to live. The monster who refused my brother’s plea to transfer him from Auschwitz to the Eastern front and made my poor Norbert take his own life, will get to live. The Hangman. The Butcher of Prague. The Blond Beast. Himmler’s Evil Genius. Reinhard Heydrich will get to live.
“Oh God!” I whispered thinking of how all the efforts to end his life had been in vain. “No!”
Heinrich leaned over me and hugged me by the shoulders in an effort to console me, but there was nothing he could do this time. I swore on Norbert’s and my unborn baby’s grave that Heydrich would die and I broke my word. I felt absolutely terrible.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you just go home and lay down?”
Heinrich was stroking my hair, deep concern in his voice. He still remembered the way I was right after Norbert’s death and my miscarriage, and was afraid that the failed assassination on Heydrich would bring me back into that half depressed, half angry vengeful state, and I’d go and do something stupid again, like last time when I went all the way to the Austrian capital to ask Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner for help. I wondered how he took the news about Heydrich, and what he was going to do to poor Marek now.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yes, I think you’re right. I’d better go home.”
Heinrich was surprised that I agreed so easily, but also seemed to be relieved by it. I left him the bag with lunch, gave him a quick kiss goodbye and went outside to find Hanz. He had already found out the news, and on the way home kept shaking his head and saying what a stupid thing the Czech Resistance members did.
“Why stupid? He’s been terrorizing the population of the country for how long now? Of course they wanted to kill him,” I said.
“I understand that, but just think of the retaliation that will follow now. Obergruppenführer Heydrich’s terrors will be nothing compared to the massacre that the Führer will definitely order, if he hasn’t already. They will level Prague to the ground.”
I sighed and looked out of the window. More people will die now, and Heydrich will still live. The rest of the way back home we spent in silence mostly because I didn’t want to talk. What good will talking do now?
As I entered the house and hardly had time to make both dogs stop jumping on me, the phone rang. I answered, wondering if it was Heinrich making sure that I made it home safe.
“Yes?”
“Hello, Frau Friedmann. Have you heard the news?”
“Yes I… How did you get my number?”
“I’m the Chief of the Gestapo, aren’t I?” I could almost hear how Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner was grinning on the other end. “I only regret that I’m in Vienna and couldn’t see a happy smile on your face when you found out.”
“What are you talking about?” I quickly glanced in the direction of the kitchen, making sure that Magda couldn’t overhear our conversation. “He survived!”
“He survived the attack, yes. Those goddamn British machine guns always jam when you need them to shoot the most. They had to throw a grenade under his car, the pieces of which wounded him. But he will most certainly die within the next few days.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“Because Marek and his friends did soak all the parts of the ammunition in that highly toxic stuff I gave him, the name of which I can’t even pronounce. Right now, even though his condition may be considered stable, it’s slowly poisoning him from the inside. His days are numbered, Frau Friedmann, believe me.”
“I hope you’re not giving me false hope, Herr Gruppenführer.”
“Oh no, I would never.” He paused for a moment and asked, “How’s your headache? Still bothering you?”
“It’s much better now, thank you.”
“Will you come to the funeral then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“Great. I’ll see you there then.”
Dr. Kaltenbrunner hung up, and I silently prayed to God that he was right.
_______________
June 9, 1942
The day outside was warm and beautiful. Inside the Reich Chancellery it was dark and cold, despite many urns with burning fire. Looking around I thought that they killed half of Berlin orangeries to bring all those wreaths here. I actually felt like I was sitting in one big greenhouse, only with standards and swastika banners on every wall. Another huge banner with SS runes on it was covering the wall right above SS Obergruppenführer Reinhard Heydrich’s coffin, at which I was staring through my black veil since the SS soldiers brought it inside. I wished that it was open so I could see his face, to look closely at the dead body just to make sure myself that it was indeed true: Reinhard Heydrich was dead.
When Heinrich broke the news to me several days ago, I didn’t feel anything. I thought that I would feel happy, satisfied, victorious, but there was nothing. I was disappointed, disappointed with myself because I so naively believed that killing the man who caused me so much pain would make it go away, but it didn’t. Norbert was still dead.
I kept staring at the coffin while Reichsführer Himmler was giving a eulogy. I tried to force some kind of emotions into myself. There was nothing. I kept staring at the coffin while the Führer Adolf Hitler placed Heydrich’s posthumous decorations on his funeral pillow. Still nothing. Another death doesn’t bring the dead people back. Revenge is pointless.
I looked at Heinrich in despair. Help me, tell me what to do now, I silently pleaded him with my eyes; but he just took my hand in his and slightly squeezed it. He didn’t know how to help me. I sighed and looked away.
After the same SS soldiers took the coffin outside to transport it to the cemetery, we were left amongst the high ranking officers who didn’t follow the procession. They were talking quietly among themselves, mostly about Heydrich and the consequences of his assassination for Czechoslovakia. Everybody was agreeing on one point: that very soon the Gestapo under Himmler’s immediate control would bring its wrath on the Resistance members and anyone in any way connected to them. I didn’t want to listen to it and went all the way to the front, where Heydrich’s coffin used to stand. Was it really worth it? I asked myself, and found no answer.
“He’s gone.” A familiar voice behind my back. Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner found me.
“Yes, he is,” I replied quietly without turning around.
“You seem upset though.”
I was silent for some time and then said, “It doesn’t feel the way I expected it to feel.”
“Why not?”
“My brother is still dead. Nothing has changed. I thought it would, but it hasn’t.”
“You’re wrong, Frau Friedmann. Something has changed. He’s gone.”
“And?”
“And it means that you don’t have to hate him anymore. You can just let go now. Stop torturing yourself about the past and look into the future. He’s gone. It’s over with. Everything is over with. You’re free.”
The simplicity of his words stunned me like a sudden revelation. He’s gone. It’s over. I don’t have to hate him anymore. I can go back to my old happy self. I’m free.
It sounded so unreal in my mind, but so straightforward at the same time that I hardly suppressed a little laugh and quickly covered my mouth with a gloved hand. I’m free. I don’t have to think about it anymore. He’s gone from my life, once and for all. I will never see him again. He won’t be a constant reminder of the painful memories, which seemed to be forever imprinted in my mind
. I don’t have to keep mourning the two ghosts from my past over and over again. They’re free now. And so am I. Free.
I laughed again, still covering my face with a shaking hand. And then I started crying, crying so hard that I could hardly breathe in between hysterical sobs. I needed somebody to hold me, and that somebody was standing right beside me, not touching me when I needed it most. I turned around to Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner and pressed my head to his shoulder, and then he tightly wrapped his arms around me and I cried even harder.
“Shhh, it’s alright, everything will be alright now.” He was gently stroking my hair and back, as if comforting a little child. “It’s over. I want these tears to be the last tears I see on your pretty face. Only happy smiles from now on, deal?”
I nodded several times, and gratefully accepted a handkerchief he gave me. I wiped my face, and the part of it where my running mascara touched it became black. I stared at it for a moment and smiled; I was glad those tears I cried were black, all that poison that I had inside was finally leaving my body.
Someone came over to ask if I was alright, and Dr. Kaltenbrunner answered without letting me go. “The poor thing was working with Obergruppenführer Heydrich, she’s absolutely devastated! It’s very sad. What an untimely loss.”
“Absolutely, absolutely,” the man replied. I didn’t even turn my head to him, finally feeling safe and in peace in the strong arms of the leader of the Austrian SS. “Frightful times, frightful!”
The man left, and I wiped my face once again, noticing that the handkerchief was almost clear this time. Everything inside was clear too, no more pain, no more hatred, no more poison. I was finally free, and he made it possible. I lifted my face to him and whispered so no one else would hear us, “thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I’m just glad that you feel better now.”
Dr. Kaltenbrunner softly touched my wet cheek, wiping the last few tears from it, and then he was just looking at me, very seriously, his hand still on top of my arm, his fingers still gently caressing my skin. I was standing so close to him, and I knew that if we were alone now he would have kissed me. I would have let him do it.
Then I suddenly felt very ashamed of myself and stepped away, thinking how I could even allow such thoughts with Heinrich in the same hall with me. Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner let go of me right away, as if understanding my feelings.
“I should probably be going,” I said. “My husband is waiting for me.”
“Yes, of course,” he nodded.
I looked at him a little longer.
“Well… goodbye then, Herr Gruppenführer.”
“Goodbye, Frau Friedmann.”
I extended my hand to him and he gently shook it.
“Thank you for your handkerchief. I’m afraid it’s ruined though.”
Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner finally smiled.
“I’m pretty sure I can afford a new one.”
I smiled back at him and had already started walking away, when he suddenly called my name.
“Frau Friedmann!”
“Yes?” I turned around.
“I forgot to give you this.”
With those words he put his hand in his pocket and produced my Catholic cross which he took from me in the Gestapo jail, and also a little golden chain with little pointe shoes pendant on it, my husband’s present, the one that he took several years ago in the same interrogation room. I couldn’t believe that he still had it after all these years. I carefully took them both and raised my eyes to him once again.
“You kept it?”
“Of course I did. I just kept forgetting to give it back to you.”
I didn’t know what to say.
_______________
Berlin, June 1942
Himmler arrived. He walked all the way to the podium in a big conference hall where all the employees of the Berlin office of Amt VI or SD-Ausland were ordered to gather the day before. Well, technically probably only half of the employees, because of the nature of our department: we were the external intelligence office and many agents were working outside the country or travelling for different missions. Heinrich was sitting among the other high ranking officers in the first row, but still turned around and gave me a reassuring nod as Reichsführer Himmler was going through the papers he brought with him. I was sitting all the way in the back with the other SS-Helferinnen staff, which included all female secretaries, stenographers and radio operators. I nodded back at my husband and smiled.
Reichsführer made quite a long speech on what a tragic loss the death of our former Chief SS Obergruppenführer Heydrich was, and I couldn’t help but wonder at the double nature of Himmler. Everybody knew that after Heydrich overstepped him in rank and became a Minister before Himmler, the latter couldn’t stand his former colleague and protégé. I was personally convinced that on the day when Heydrich died, Reichsführer Himmler opened a bottle of champagne and quite possibly even had a piece of cake.
Then Reichsführer went on saying that before the Führer would find a suitable candidate to replace the ‘irreplaceable’ Heydrich, the RSHA would now fall under his immediate control, and our Amt will be supervised by SS Standartenführer Walther Schellenberg. I’d met Schellenberg before and was very surprised that Reichsführer decided to make such a young man our Chief, but rumors had it that Schellenberg was Himmler’s eyes and ears, so I figured that Himmler appointed him to this position not just because of Walther’s high intelligence, but also to basically spy on his own subordinates.
Reichsführer also made quite serious changes in the internal organization of the RSHA, and made a special accent on what an important part in the ‘emotional health of the nation’ Amt IV or the infamous Gestapo was playing, and stressed that all the information concerning the enemies of the Reich such as Jews, Bolsheviks, Communists, Sectarians and the traitors of the Reich – the Resistance members in all the occupied territories must be immediately transferred to Amt IV and its Chief – Heinrich Müller.
I frowned; such a shift in powers was almost giving Müller authority over our branch, and if before such information had been handled by our agents without the intervention of the Gestapo, now the failure to provide it would be subject to administrative punishment. Himmler was definitely happy that Heydrich was no longer his competition and decided to gain as much power in his hands as he possibly could, using the Gestapo as a means of achieving his goal. That decision of his was making mine and Heinrich’s underground work extremely difficult. Himmler would most likely infiltrate some acting Gestapo agents into our office too, I thought and sighed again. Reichsführer was tightening up the screws not only on the nation, but on his own subordinates now. That man didn’t trust anyone.
After some minor changes in positions amongst the top agents, Reichsführer told us to get back to work and proceed with our daily tasks as we would have been with Heydrich still in office, only now all the reports were to be delivered to Standartenführer Schellenberg. Then Himmler wished us a great day and left the conference hall, dismissing us.
Later that day Heinrich and I decided to go by our American Secret Service ‘colleagues’ to share the news with them. Ingrid was still mad at me for dragging them into my recent interrogation process with the Gestapo, and kept shooting menacing looks at me from the moment we had walked through the door. Rudolf, on the contrary, was as hospitable as always, and after hearing the news about Himmler taking over the RSHA, advised us to halt all of our activities except for gathering information and delivering it to them.
“If Himmler decided to put the Gestapo in some kind of control over SD-Ausland, even though not on paper, I consider laying low for quite some time the wisest thing to do, until at least we find out what’s really going on in the office. Therefore I strongly recommend you to stop any kind of interaction with any incriminating elements including Resistance members and even our own agents, who might want to try to come into contact with you for whatever reason. Most likely after taking over the executiv
e power on the RSHA, Himmler will start a thorough screening of all the members, especially those who occupy office positions and have access to the most important information, and this includes both of you. So just keep it quiet for a while, work like you used to, and as soon as we feel that we’re safe to proceed, we’ll get back to work. Sounds good?”
“Not really, but I guess we don’t have a choice, do we?” Heinrich asked him.
“No, we don’t. Besides, we still need time to get a new radio operator. So sad that they got Adam. He was an outstanding young man, so efficient and intelligent! It really is a shame.” Rudolf shook his head. “Nothing is known of his fate, right?”
“Unfortunately.” Heinrich lowered his eyes.
“Well, they will most likely send him to Mauthausen, and then they will either execute him upon arrival or sentence him to working in quarries, and truly speaking I don’t know which is worse,” Ingrid said bitterly. “They call that place ‘bone-grinder’ for a good reason.”
“Well, actually if they decide to put him in Mauthausen, he’ll be able to get out,” I said, and regretted it right away after three pairs of eyes turned to me in surprise.
“I’m sorry?” Ingrid tilted her head to one side. “How exactly he’ll be able to get out?”
Already thinking that I should have kept my mouth shut and now would have to explain things that were very difficult to explain, I answered, “He’ll get an amnesty.”
“Why would he get an amnesty?” This time it was my husband who asked the question.
“Because… because someone promised me that he will.”
“Who could possibly promise you that? Himmler?” Ingrid with her interrogation was worse than the Gestapo.
“No. SS Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner.”
“How did you… What? You know Kaltenbrunner?” Ingrid was quite obviously surprised.
“Yes. It’s a long story, but he promised me that as soon as Adam gets transferred under his jurisdiction he’ll get him released, on the condition that Adam will have to leave the territory of the Reich and never come back.”
The Girl from Berlin: Gruppenführer's Mistress Page 11
