The one that looked like him stopped on the sand making sure it was firmly in place.
Manfred/Helmut called out to his son through gritted teeth.
‘Get the gun.’
The boy was irresolute, looking to his mother for guidance.
‘Do it. It’s our only chance,’ urged Manfred/Fuchs.
Steffan, conflicted between putting the boy in danger and freedom watched intensely as the teenager made his way cautiously across the floor.
With each step the weapon became tantalisingly close but he was still far enough away that Saul could grab it first if he came back. All watched the boy’s progress in silence, willing him to dive for it.
Steffan wondered if he was the only one concerned about what Manfred would do if he got his hands on the weapon first. Would he be able to convince the man’s son to free him before his father?
Saul continued his conversation with ghosts.
‘What do you have?’ he said and then turned to the ghost on his right and said. ‘In the yard, when no-one is looking.’
‘Come on!’ said Manfred/Helmut.
The boy took the last two steps quickly swooping up the gun. Manfred/Helmut smiled.
‘Give me the gun,’ he said.
‘No. Give it to me,’ said Steffan.
‘I’m your superi-‘
‘Give it to me boy,’ said Steffan.
‘I am your father. Do as I say.’
‘What will you do to him, Papa?’
Manfred/Helmut was caught off guard by the question, his eyes betraying his intent.
‘I’ll keep it,’ said the boy.
‘I need to use the phone,’ said Saul.
He was back and pointing the second gun – the one he took from Steffan - at the boy. The boy froze, his gun remaining at his side forgotten.
‘After I use the phone I’m leaving. Is that okay?’
Saul lowered his gun but the boy did not need this gesture; standing this close and looking into Saul’s eyes he knew he was safe. Saul had returned but left the menace wherever he had been.
‘Shoot him!’ screamed Manfred/Helmut.
The boy glared at his father.
‘Is that okay?’ repeated Saul.
‘It’s okay,’ said the boy.
‘I’m sorry I hit you.’
Saul reached out with his hand, offering to take the gun from the boy, the boy gladly accepting.
‘Why don’t you get him a coffee?’ said Manfred/Helmut.
‘Go to hell,’ said the boy.
Saul walked to the phone, got out his cheat sheet and dialled a number, his fingers making slow circles in the dial.
‘Who are you calling?’ said Steffan.
Saul listened to the rings, ignoring Steffan.
‘Rudi, please,’ he said into the phone. He listened to the answer. ‘Okay, thanks,’ he said and put the phone down, picking it up immediately to dial another number. This time it was answered straight away.
‘It’s me...yes I do...you don’t have to do this...No! I’m on my way.’ Saul put the phone down and then ripped the cord out of wall.
‘I need your car keys,’ he said to Steffan.
‘You can’t handle him alone. Let me come with you.’
‘Keys,’ demanded Saul.
Steffan reached into his pocket and tossed them over. At least this would get him out of the house. He could deal with the rest after he was free: Saul was going to Rudi and Rudi was not a hard man to find.
Saul left them to consider the shot man from a new perspective. Relief tinged with devastation and the knowledge that the years before them would be forever marred by this night.
Manfred/Helmut could read their expressions only too clearly.
‘I told him what he wanted to hear.’
Nobody was convinced.
‘I was being tortured!’
Steffan spoke for them all.
‘It’s not us you have to convince anymore.’
‘I told you to investigate the case! Why would I do that if I had anything to do with it?’
Steffan spoke to the boy.
‘Do you have another phone in the house?’
The boy shook his head.
‘Go next door and call the police.’
Steffan speculated correctly that Saul had figured it out. Saul had come here for revenge, ready to commit murder if need be but had stopped short of the final act; to him it was now irrelevant that Manfred or Helmut may have been in the SS and committed murders: the fact was he had not committed the recent murders. Steffan needed to know what Saul knew and he needed to know it before Rudi killed him.
CHAPTER 36
Saul parked on the opposite side of Savignyplatz and walked across the patch of grass to his shop. The Platz, divided by Kantstrasse, was not a complete square in the fashion of an Italian piazza but this afforded him room to observe. His half was still but from across the road he could hear the gentle chatter of people leaving a café. Saul was tempted to look at his watch but resisted the urge. What did time matter now?
He saw the car parked outside the bakery and as he approached he recognised the sleeping figure of Torsten at the wheel. Saul had not figured on that but the man was asleep so he had the upper hand here also. Slipping his hand in his pocket he removed the P6 and used it to tap on the window.
‘Wake up.’
The hulk of the man slept on and Saul was half inclined to keep moving but decided he could not risk being interrupted.
‘Torsten.’
Still nothing.‘Fine,’ he said to himself and started walking to the store. He only managed one step before he spotted the knife handle protruding from the back of the drivers seat, a trickle of blood dripping down the plastic seat back.
Saul studied the scene for a while wondering how he could have missed the fact that the man was dead. Of course he had been killed: the killer would not want to be disturbed either. He blinked and then walked to the bakery, not surprised to find the door open and left it ajar behind him.
The store was quiet and the display cabinets empty, as they should be. The light from the street lamp created a sharp dividing line on the floor. Hearing voices coming from the kitchen, he pocketed the gun and crossed the boarder of light and walked into the darkness of the back of the store. He made his way silently down the short corridor towards the frame of fluorescent that was the kitchen. The voices had stopped and he paused briefly trying to imagine the situation in the room he was about to walk into. He was gripped by a sudden paralysis as if by staying outside the door he could put off the inevitable. At that moment he felt perfectly balanced, standing in the dark, waiting to push his way into the light. Then the weight of his thoughts destroyed the equilibrium and Saul tipped forward through the door.
His family was being held at gunpoint. Hannah, Aaron and Aisha stood in the middle of the room between two work surfaces. Aisha had her arms around Hannah.
He had called Rudi to make sure he had not made a mistake. Finding him at the club, his next call had been home to confirm what he already knew.
They all looked in his direction and Mira lifted her arms to accept him, letting the gun flop around while she made grand gestures.
‘Welcome,’ she said. ‘I was beginning to think you’d forgotten where your shop is.’
‘You found out testimonies when you were at Auschwitz, didn’t you?’ he said.
Mira grinned, letting the gun fall to her side as she stooped to reach into a large sports bag at her feet. When she stood again she held a battered looking tin in her hands. She rattled the contents. Despite the wear and tear of being buried for forty years Saul recognised it at once, although he seemed to remember it being smaller.
‘Bravo! But I guess that’s why they called you Professor. Everyone else was stupid enough to sign their name.’ She opened the tin and waved an aged scrap of paper at him. ‘I found your confession, professor.’
; Her colleagues were calling them: The Scrolls of Auschwitz. They had found all manner of things: bones, teeth, hair, letters, diaries and accounts of what went on and even empty canisters of Zyklon B. Not everyone left their names but it became clear what they were finding was evidence of atrocities carried out on a scale never seen before.
‘They called me that because I could speak several languages.’
She dropped the smile.
‘Bet that came in handy when you murdered-‘
‘The SS did the killing. We did the-,’ he tried to correct her but it was useless.
‘Shut up. I know exactly what you did. You and your friends. Well, 149222 you can murder a few more.’ She dipped back into the bag and took out a large canister. ‘Zyklon B. It’s still in production, you know?’
It was time for Saul to show his gun, genuinely stumping Mira. He was not supposed to have that.
‘Put the gas down and get away from my family,’ he said, stepping alongside them but keeping his eyes on Mira while addressing his family. ‘It’s going to be alright.’
And then Saul’s legs gave out and he started to crumple to the floor confused as to why his legs failed to support him and why his head hurt. Try as he might there was simply no commanding them. His head hurt too.
‘Aaron!’ said Hannah.
From his position on the floor Saul watched as Aaron took the gun and walked over to Mira. That was what he had missed: pulling teeth out of the dead is one thing, but when they are alive – she would have needed an accomplice. Mira took the gun from Aaron.
‘You’re worse than a Nazi. A collaborator. And there is only one punishment for a collaborator,’ said Aaron. ‘Now into the fridge you go.’
‘Aaron, have you gone mad?’ said Hannah.
‘Not you Mama, just Papa: he’s the Jew killer.’
Mira interjected.
‘Actually, they all have to go in. You too. It’s the only way.’
It was Aaron’s turn to look stunned. Then the awareness of his miscalculation hit him. He had gotten soft letting her do all the thinking, but of course she was right. He made a grab for the gun, but she was ahead of him here too and shot him in the chest. In the tiled kitchen with all its stainless steel fixtures the sound was deafening and reverberated for longer than it took Aaron to hit the floor, his head bouncing off the tiles with a hollow tap, tap. Saul watched as his son joined him on the floor. The second gun forgotten in his jacket pocket. There was a sudden and intense grief as Saul registered the death of his boy. It was like nothing he had felt before. Saul stopped living, he stopped thinking and there was pain so deep it had no origin and no end. Soon after that his mind shut down.
There was hard work and then there was luck. Finding Aaron had been pure chance. They had both been at the same party, both been drunk and ended up having great sex which turned into a relationship. Aaron had been easy to turn to her side. He’d never had a girlfriend before and Mira found that a bit of gentle pressure coupled with guilt trips and withholding of sexual favours worked wonders. And of course Aaron had known two of the names on the letter. It was as much surprise to her as it was to him when they figured out who The Professor was but by then he was too far gone to refuse. She reminded him it was his idea that each murderer be killed according their roles in the camp. This was not just her bidding, surely God had wanted it too. In a world this big, why else would they have found each other?
Hannah screamed once in shock but Aisha kept going, unable to take her eyes of her dead uncle. She watched, transfixed as his blood seeped out of him making a stark contrast to the white floor tiles. Hannah forced her to look away by pressing her face into her chest. She attempted to join her son but was held back by Mira’s gun. Hannah’s free hand reached out to his body as if she expected him to grab her hand and tell her everything was fine. She swallowed air in big noisy gulps in much the same way as children in tears do when they forget to breathe.
There was, however, no reaction from Saul. From his place on the floor he examined the body of his son with detachment. He had become the robot once more: Saul was back at Auschwitz.
‘Old concentration camp prisoner turns psycho killer. I couldn’t have planned it better. You know, we were actually going to turn ourselves in until you came along,’ said Mira. ‘Did you kill the bulls?’
No answer from Saul. He was concentrating on the ever-growing pool of blood, which would need mopping up.
‘Of course you did,’ she said.
Still nothing.
‘Saul?’
A curious joy spread across her face as she realised what had happened.
‘149222, get up! Come on, faster! Get up, 149222. This is your last chance.’
Saul failed to react at all. Mira put the gun to his head.
‘149222, if you don’t do your job, I’m gonna feed you to the dogs. Up! Up! Up!’
That threat brought Saul to his feet. The dogs were worse than a beating. Stepping over his dead son he opened the door to the walk-in freezer, condensation bleeding into the room. Turning to Hannah, he had found his old voice again.
‘Undress as fast as you can. You don’t want the coffee to get cold.’
Hannah stared incredulously at her husband and found her voice.
‘Saul!?’
For Mira this was a dream come true. It was like a history book come to life and her hungry eyes devoured the scene.
‘Faster please,’ said Saul. ‘We don’t have all day.’
‘Saul, it’s me,’ said Hannah.
Mira gave Saul a look and indicated the gun. All Saul saw was the threat to his life from a member of the SS. He reacted appropriately and struck Hannah across the face.
‘I said move it!’
Mira decided to speed along the process.
‘Do it or I’ll blow the girl’s head off,’ she said.
Hannah started to undress and Saul turned his attention to Aisha.
‘Here let me help you,’ he said, starting to take her top off. Aisha struggled but was no match for Saul.
‘Opa, noooooo.’
Mira watched with half an eye as she turned to pick up the gas canister. The existence of the Sonderkommando had not been news to her. It was part of her history. The shameful history nobody talked about: the Jews that saved themselves by killing other Jews. Mira had decided that something had to be done. For the sake of her family and all the others who were murdered something had to be done. These men were not victims as most of her colleagues made out but traitors to their own kind.
Hannah and Aisha stood naked and shivering at the door of the freezer. Mira was almost in awestruck: this is how it must have been.
‘Send them in,’ she ordered.
He guided them in and for a moment Hannah thought about protesting but then thought better of it. Where would it get her, what would it bring to Aisha? Just like the victims of forty years previous, there was nothing she could do. She felt her feet stick to the floor of the freezer and had to pull hard to take the next step. Aisha could not move her legs at all and so Hannah wrenched her from the floor. Aisha cried out in pain, but settled down quickly against Hannah’s body; her mind performing a trick similar to that which the Sonderkommando perfected in the camps, whisking her away to another place, sparing her from having to live through it.
Saul was about to close the door when Mira gave the next command.
‘Stop! 149222 you get in too.’
Saul did not comply. He had done a good job and there was so much more to do. Why was he being asked to join them in chamber? Mira hit him.
‘Undress 149222!’
Maybe his colleagues would stick up for him like they did before? Saul looked for help, but there was no one close by. He had been deserted and left to die. Still, he knew this day would come and in a way it was a relief. He started to strip and wondered who would do the dragging, the shaving and burning? Saul got stuck on a line of thought - surely he was n
ot the last Jew? There were others. The ball started spinning
Mira watched as Saul undressed. His look had gone from blank to one of resignation and she was convinced she had seen the start of a smile. Perhaps somewhere deep down he knew what was happening and was glad it was all over. She would be only too happy to oblige.
Mira went back to the bag and pulled out a gas mask. She was fumbling with the contraption, trying to get it over her face when Saul charged at her, having forgotten the second gun that was in the coat pocket of his jacket that now lay at his feet.
The force of the impact sent her to the floor, the gun skipping along the hard tiles. Saul grabbed the gas canister rugby style and made a break for the door.
Mira didn’t skip a beat. The plan might need to change but she could still be far away before anyone even thought of looking for her. She reached the gun and fired at Saul’s naked body.
Saul did not hear the shot and felt nothing as the bullet passed through him. There was a sudden push and he sensed the gas canister being ripped out of his hands by a mystical force. Looking down, he tried to grab it as it hung in mid air but this proved beyond him. Just before he hit the ground he saw the small red hole in his chest. The container and Saul hit the floor at the same time, the canister coming to a stop not far from him. He could make out a few off-white pellets scattered on the floor.
Hannah saw the hole in the container and reacted quickly by pulling the freezer door closed. Turning just in time, Saul caught a glimpse of his wife before the door closed on her but he knew she was not safe yet.
He forced himself up, and it was now that the pain hit; so hard he let out a cry and fought to stay conscious. Saul steadied himself and watched the blood flowing from the hole in his chest as if a washer inside him had given out. Grimacing against the pain he forced himself up and ran for the door, the pain attacking him in waves.
Mira tasted bitter almonds, felt her throat constrict and realised instantly what was happening. She searched frantically for the gas mask; seeing it on the other side of the room she decided it was too far and ran for the exit gaining fast on Saul, who was barely limping now.
The head start proved sufficient. Saul beat her through the door and slammed in shut in her face, using his body weight to prevent her escape.
The White House Page 20
