The statement prompted a silence in the room. At that moment, the Bank Executive returned and placed a file on de Rosenschild’s desk. Brunner could see that there was an official bank paper attached to the outside of the file. De Rosenschild concentrated on the contents and as he absorbed the document, a cloud of concern flickered across his face. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked across at Brunner.
“Hauptsturmfuhrer there is a problem. The fingerprints on this file do not match. The bank is duty bound not to release the funds to you. I am sorry to inform you that this transaction cannot take place". Brunner paled at this news. “There must be some mistake.” Looking directly at him, De Rosenschild said, “We are members of the International Association for Identification and forensically all results are unimpeachably accurate. The report which I have in front of me confirms that the friction ridge patterns on both of the permits provided on your file are unique in themselves but both prints are totally incompatible. I am certain that one of the prints is that of a young person’’. Alois Brunner’s initial shock turned rapidly to cold anger. He quickly recalled the document outlining the minutes of the meeting and those in attendance all those years ago in the Paris branch of Chase Bank. The document related that there were four people in attendance and one child named Anna Krantz. The awful truth now dawned upon him. He had killed the wrong person, how could that happen? His intense inner anger threatened to erupt in volcanic violence. An icy vengeful look contorted his face to palpable rage. Now, he must find Anna Krantz wherever she may be.
FORTY TWO
BASEL: 1946
Fehmarn, the island in the Baltic, kept coming into Brunner’s mind. His SS colleague who had been part of Lina Heydrich’s security had originally told him about the house in Hamburg that Maria, her sister-in-law intended to use. That information had proven to be accurate and now he wondered should he go to the island of Fehmarn as he knew it was here Lina was headed.
Brunner sat in a secluded corner of Basel Badischer Bahnhof, the railway station that was effectively straddling the border between Germany and Switzerland. Cold anger still consumed him. Questions filled his head. How could the child, Anna Krantz, have printed her fingerprint on such a vital document? He raged silently and was uncertain about his next move.
As he looked around the busy railway station, mostly refugees from internment in Switzerland, returning to Germany. Switzerland had 300,000 refugees interned and as Brunner watched the ill-clad throngs of various nationalities shuffling to the notice board seeking trains to various destinations, hoping to resume their former lives, he wondered how many among them were Jews who had survived his roundups. But now he had other concerns. Always a logical thinker, he speculated that Anna being Maria’s daughter would have stayed close to her. But how had he missed seeing her in Hamburg? He had no answer, but he thought it more probable that she would not have gone with Lina to the Island of Fehmarn. The last reliable source of information from the SS was that Lina and her children were travelling alone.
His decision was to return to Hamburg and hopefully pick up traces that would lead him to Anna Krantz. He touched reassuringly, the file folder with the documentation in his inner pocket. He had discarded the SS emblazoned outer cover and replaced it with official markings of the Bank for International Settlements.
De Rothschild had extended his good wishes to him and assured him that when he returned with the correct authorisation, the funds would be released. The banker was most courteous and seemed genuinely anxious to complete the transaction satisfactorily. The meeting ended with ‘Heil Hitler’ salutes.
Making his way across the cavernous hall of the railway station to board a train into Germany, he noticed that custom immigration officials were being extra diligent and scrutinising papers for proper identity. Long queues were forming and he found his pulse racing at the thought of detection. He had travelled by train to Basel without difficulty under forged civilian papers describing him as a ‘techno’ but now his courage was failing him. Though still physically strong, the furtive life of living in the shadows was extracting a heavy toll. He fitted in well with the shabbily attired refugees but paranoia and anxiety were his constant companions. On an instant decision, he decided to flee the station and thinking fast, he made his way towards the River Rhine where he hoped to get on a transport barge to bring him to Duisburg in Northern Germany and then overland to Hamburg. This was a fortuitous decision; just as he was quickly exiting the main station, one of the immigration officials experienced a flicker of recognition of the former Commandant of Drancy, but it was too late. The furtive instincts of the fugitive continued to serve Brunner well. Hamburg and Anna Krantz awaited his arrival.
FORTY THREE
ROME: 1946
Madelaine Bridon was standing in the ante-room of the building referred to as Pontifico Collegio Teutonico di S. Maria dell’Anima. The long stained glass window filtered the evening sunlight into a kaleidoscope of colour throughout the high-ceiling sparsely-furnished room. Looking around, she observed how pristine all the wood panelling was preserved. The wooden floors and glass-doored bookcases were all polished to a shining standard.
She was waiting for the arrival of Sister Marte and had been ushered into this room by a female noviciate upon her arrival. Gathering her thoughts, she noticed how tranquil the atmosphere was in the building, a calm silence seemed to envelop e the room and only occasionally could she hear the muffled sound of activity far away. It seemed an oasis of solitude in a chaotic world just outside the doors. Madelaine looked at the collection of bound books arranged behind the glass-doored bookcases – mostly theological studies in French, German and Italian. Reaching up, she chose one on papal infallibility. In doing so, she caught sight of her reflection in the glass. Disappointingly, she noted now drab she appeared in the dull grey tunic-like uniform of the UNRRA with its distinctive armband logo. Her blond hair was still lustrous but was now combed back and gathered lightly giving her glamorous face a severe appearance. She sighed deeply and thought her humanitarian work was demanding and taking its toll. Her obsession with tracking down Alois Brunner now consumed her but she knew she would persevere until her mission was completed.
“Guten tag, Madelaine, I see you are interested in our theological books”. Madelaine was startled as she had not heard the door opening or anyone entering the room. “I am Sister Marte’’, the nun was petite and surprisingly young with dark features. The black habit headdress framed her fine featured face and accentuated her brown eyes. She had a ready smile and Madelaine responded warmly to her. “I was admiring the book collection and also the splendour of the room.” She said, shaking hands. Marte laughed and as she walked over to a chair her black floor-length habit rustled quietly. She motioned to Madeleine to sit opposite her in the only other chair in the room.
“Bishop Hudal is in charge in this institute but I also do some work for him. My superior is Mother Pascalina who is in charge of housing, clothing, and fleeing refugees. The demands for medicine and first aid are overwhelming. Already we have sheltered thousands of Jews alone and distributed many aid packages throughout the city of Rome”. Madelaine nodded in agreement and support. She detected from her accent that Marte was Austrian/German as Bishop Hudal had mentioned in the phone conversation and was speaking with a Munich influence. Madelaine said she was in Rome to assist in the distribution of humanitarian aid supplied to the undernourished, crushed in spirit and body without strength or incentive to hope.
Marte said that a Papal Mass Hall had been opened in the Vatican and would be free to all who came, irrespective of nationality or creed. Madelaine applauded this initiative and said UNRRA would be a major supporter for this venture; the majority of funding came from America and the focus was now on Rome. They discussed relief work for the next hour and a rapport developed between them. Finally, Madelaine stood up to go. "I must return to my work now, but before I go, perhaps you could tell me if Alois Brunner has been in touch with Bishop Hudal,
as he is an old friend of mine who I am sure will be seeking sanctuary through the Bishop’s influence”. Without hesitation, Sister Marte replied “A message came from him some time ago from Basel, Switzerland, to say that he hoped to be in Rome shortly and would be meeting Bishop Hudal. The Bishop is very concerned about the safety of the men who seek his assistance. They must prove to him that they are who they say they are, and submit to his identification methods as they will be under his protection.” She mentioned that his influence was so powerful in obtaining travel documents and visas that the process was automatic once he had supported it and was never refused. Madelaine could scarcely believe her luck. "I will visit the Papal Mass Hall tomorrow and advance the humanitarian efforts."
She shook hands and bade farewell to Sister Marte feeling that she had made a new ally. She left the building thinking and knowing that Brunner and Hudal would be crossing her path soon.
FORTY FOUR
HAMBURG: 1946
It took Alois Brunner eight tension-filled days and nights to return to Hamburg. He had managed to convince a gnarled old barge captain that he needed to get back to the city of Duisburg to search for his family in that devastated port on the Rhine. The barge chugged along at an interminably slow pace. He had agreed to work his passage by securing the wooden crates containing machinery parts for delivery to the port of Rotterdam. The Captain showed no interest in his papers of identity, but added, “If we are stopped and boarded, you can explain your new position". After that, he spent his time at the navigation table studying charts and maps and left Brunner to his own company.
The deep tranquil water of the Rhine offered calm to his frayed nerves. As the days and nights passed, he recognised the once familiar cities of Strasburg, Karlsruhe, Koblenz, Koln and Dusseldorf. They were all mostly reduced to skeletal buildings and mounds of rubble from Allied bombing. He thought to himself of the days when he was greeted with pomp and ceremony. He had gloried in the honour bestowed by the field grey uniform with its distinctive insignia and the power of belonging to an elite organisation that for a period ruled Europe and beyond. Still consumed with a cold rage, he struggled to contain his frustration at the incomprehensible event in Basel. He would rely on his SS training and he was determined to prove indomitable and resolute in his quest for the quarry, Anna Krantz.
It was night time when he arrived in Duisburg; he disembarked the barge and thanked the elderly Captain for his assistance. He was well acquainted with the city of Duisburg because of its strategic location in the industrial Ruhr. On one day alone, 14th October 1944, the RAF had dropped 3,574 tons of high explosives and 820 tons of incendiaries, devastating the city and causing mass panic among its citizens. Brunner was shocked at the levelling of this once great industrial city and it took him most of the night to negotiate his way on foot through the rubble-strewn streets to the outskirts. He hitched a lift in a food lorry going directly to Hamburg where the driver told him there were food riots. He was reasonably comfortable travelling by road as the pass restrictions had been lifted between the British and American zones.
Back in Hamburg, in the second-floor apartment building opposite where he had observed and killed Maria, he sat staring out the same window in the midday brightness and he wondered how he could have got it all so wrong. How had he missed Anna Krantz? He knew that Reinhardt Heydrich would have insisted upon meticulous minutes of that fateful meeting in the bank back in 1942 being recorded, and according to the documentation, the only attendees were Carlos Niedermann, Maria Heydrich (Krantz), the young girl Anna was mentioned, Madelaine Bridon (Secretary), and finally Heydrich himself.
Why or how was the fingerprint switched? He had no solution. He thought that if he could not track Anna Krantz in Hamburg then he would go to the island of Fehmarn in Schleswig-Holstein, which was not too far away.
Absentmindedly, he turned on an old radio which was now one of his few sources of enjoyment. It was station ‘Radio Hamburg’ or Nordwestdeutscher Rundfunk which was now under the control of the Allied Military Government. The music being played was a selection of jazz which had become popular since being banned during the war. As Brunner lazily let the music sweep over him and fade gently into the background, he heard the broadcaster say, "And now we have a special announcement on behalf of the recently formed North German Radio Symphony Orchestra under the conductor Hans Schmidt Isserstedt, to interpret the repertoire of the classical romantics of Beethoven and Bruckner. The orchestra has been invited to perform for the first time in the Teatro dell Opera in Rome. The talented violinist, Anna Krantz, will be performing as first string under our principal conductor”.
Brunner sat bolt upright from his lazy stupor. He did a mental contortion and still came up with the name Anna Krantz that the broadcaster had said. He could not believe his ears. He thought the chase would not be to the island of Fehmarn but now he knew he would end it in the ancient city of Rome.
FORTY FIVE
ROME: 1946
The neo-classical building of the Teatro dell’Opera was an impressive sight with its collonaded exterior dating back to the late eighteen hundreds. Emil Darius was seated in a small café some thirty metres away, in front of the historic theatre. Brushing aside one of his long dark locks of hair from his high forehead, he sipped his coffee and wondered at the good fortune that had brought him to this point.
He had travelled to Rome by train from Lyon and he still rejoiced at the experience of freedom and not having to surreptitiously live a life incognito in the shadows. The Director of the musical society in Lyon recognised his re-awakening and emergence from the years of darkness and subterfuge. He had decided to advise Emil to travel ahead of the orchestra in order to boost his confidence and encounter an emerging new world. From the time he alighted from the train at Roma Termini, the main station, and walked across the expanse of the Piazza dei Cinquecento in front, he felt a surge of adventure and excitement. It was as if he was re-born. Here he was ‘free’ in the ‘Eternal’ city. He looked at the white-uniformed policemen standing on a slightly elevated podium directing the motorised traffic. He embraced the light of not having to slink into the shadows at the sight of any uniform. He had walked down the Via Nazionali with its display of extended sun canopies giving shade to the many shops adding to a market atmosphere. The intoxification of liberty fuelled the feeling of exhilaration within him in the high summer of the Italian capital.
Now nineteen years of age and empowered with tall stature and the swarthy looks of his mother’s Hungarian features, he was particularly noticeable amongst the shorter Italians. He was looking across the Piazza at the legendary theatre where he would soon be playing to a capacity audience of over two thousand people. Finishing his coffee, he casually strolled over towards the theatre and could see that a large poster had been erected, advertising the forthcoming musical event. Succumbing to his curiosity, he saw that the colourful poster was acclaiming the many virtues of the Hamburg orchestra visiting Rome for the first time. Reading down the musical scores to be played he was proud to see that the name of Emil Darius was emblazoned in big bold black letters acclaiming him as a visiting violinist from Lyon. Reading further down, he noted that the Hamburg Orchestra was introducing a new talent also playing the violin, named Anna Krantz. Unbuttoning his shirt collar in the stifling heat of Rome in August, he wondered who she could be. Casually walking away across the cobbled stone square, he thought to himself that there were four more days to the performance when then he would meet her.
FORTY SIX
ROME: 1946
As Madelaine walked along the magnificent ancient bridge of the Ponte Sant’Angelo, across the Tiber with its ten adorned statues of supporting angels, the summer sun was yielding to the enveloping dusk. A still warm wind cosseted her concerned features and her thoughts were darkly devoted to cornering Brunner before he made his exit to some overseas SS sanctuary with the assistance of Hudal. Roadblocks in the city were everywhere. The UNRRA posters were dotted along walls promising
aid to the population. The displaced persons in the camps that UNRRA managed ran into multiples of thousands. More were in hospitals that had not even basic facilities. Disease and malnutrition in these areas were rampant and Madelaine had heard figures quoted by medical staff that ‘one in five in Rome suffered from tuberculosis'. There was a crisis with transportation which contributed to the collapse in food distribution. The pollution of water led to further infections and infestations.
The Peace Treaty presently being negotiated with the victorious allies following the armistice in September 1943 and which was scheduled to take effect on 10th February 1947 appeared to be very harsh to Italy. Madelaine’s interest in politics had encouraged her to examine the suggested conditions to be imposed upon the Italians. She welcomed the fall of Fascism and its pernicious intent but was critical of the proposed loss of Italy’s colonies in East Africa. These were to be administered by the native population. Previously these colonies had acted as a resettlement area for the Italians bringing with them economic, financial and technical advantages.
The Nuremburg trials would punish the war criminals and the attendant publicity would justify the vengeance and retribution demanded by a world appalled by the magnitude of the atrocities. But Madelaine was aware of many crimes committed by ‘so-called’ partisans after the cessation of hostilities which were supported or ignored by the Allies. Instances of rape, murder and looting were frequently referred to; but indifference by the authorities meant no prosecutions resulted for these heinous infamies. Madelaine had a finely tuned sense of justice and the transformation of human values that she was being confronted with on a daily basis abhorred her.
A Right to Plunder Page 17
