Opening the door to her ground floor flat which she reached after a thirty-minute walk, she succumbed to the inviting comfort of the solitary armchair in the sparsely furnished room. Reflecting and ruminating, she knew that Brunner would have gone to the Bank for International Settlements in Basel but she could not make contact there as she knew that their allegiance and sympathies would be with the defeated Nazi Regime. Also, as bankers they would hide behind client confidentiality. Her instincts that Bishop Alois Hudal in the Vatican would be the escape route for the fleeing fugitive were proving right. Madelaine was tired. Now in her late twenties, she had experienced a world of intrigues and dangers far beyond her years for someone so young. Most of her French Resistance colleagues had embraced the leftist ideologies of Communism. Her focus had remained with her humanitarian work - and the singular obstruction of Alois Brunner. As she sat into a wide comfortable chair relaxing her long-limbed body, it was not long before she succumbed to soothing sleep.
It was about this time that a phone call was coming through to Sister Marte from Alois Brunner, telling her that he would be in Rome in the next forty eight hours and that he would appreciate meeting up with Bishop Hudal. He let her know, being a fellow German, that the Hamburg Orchestra would soon be playing in Rome.
Madelaine would receive this news tomorrow and prepare for the cataclysm that would surely follow.
FORTY SEVEN
ROME: 1946
The sweltering heat was bowing the heads of the local citizens. The Eternal City was languishing lazily in the late summer heat. Even the numerous statues caught in the shimmering sunlight seemed to succumb to the interminable temperatures.
The room that was the centre of the Austro German congregation of Santa Maria dell’Anima offered a cool sanctuary from the furnace-like alleys and streets. Its tall ceiling and dark walnut wood panelling were pacifying in the gentle gloomy atmosphere. Bishop Alois Hudal sat behind a large ornate desk. His small stature was outlined shadowlike by the large gothic-style window behind him. His rimless glasses occasionally caught flashes of light illuminating a round-featured face. Now sixty-two years of age, he displayed a vibrancy and authority reflected in a regal-type pride of his Austrian heritage and culture.
He looked at the man seated in front of him and felt a national solidarity for a fellow Austrian and sympathy for his situation. Alois Brunner was younger than Hudal by a number of years but now in a physical state bordering upon dishevelled, and bone thin from so much surreptitious travelling, he looked from a different era. He was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting grey trousers and in such attire was indistinguishable from the other multitudes of disaffected and dispossessed that thronged the city of Rome. When he disembarked from the train at the Stazione Termini to make his way on foot across the city, he was relying on the refuge that Hudal would provide. Brunner sat on the edge of the chair, with his brown eyes fixed resolutely on the Bishop seated behind the desk. When he spoke, it was with the instantly recognisable Austrian accent. “Your Grace, I need assistance with identity papers and travel documents".
Hudal nodded understandingly and in guttural German with Austrian overtones, replied, "I will assist you in every way I can. I have already arranged suitable papers and travel documents for our compatriots". Brunner relaxed visibly. It was the use of the term ‘our compatriots’ which indicated associated acquiescence towards a common goal that confirmed the Bishop’s loyalties.
“You need to get a Carta di Riconoscimento and then you will have to travel to Genoa which will be your port of departure. I will arrange for you to depart to Egypt or Syria. You will be issued with a Red Cross paper under a different name. In the meantime, I will give you some money and you will be accommodated in a monastery here”. Brunner relaxed visibly and the next half hour was taken up with shared reminiscences of Hudal’s home city of Graz and Austrian history. Finally, Hudal arose and coming round to the front of the desk, he warmly embraced Brunner. “Our common enemy was Godless Bolshevism. We were on the same side. Go to see Sister Marte, who is head of my Secretariat, she will arrange everything for you on my instructions”.
Brunner proffered his grateful thanks. “How long will it all take, Your Grace, as I have some unfinished business here in Rome in the next few days?” Hudal suggested that a further week should be enough to put everything in place for exit from Genoa. Brunner thought that would be ideal timing as the orchestra performance was due to take place in three days, on Friday 30th. August.
FORTY EIGHT
ROME: 1946
The Papal Mass Hall was enormous and heaving with people of all hues and nationalities. Everything in the commodious building, however, was orderly. Long queues of men and women stood in calm lines holding metal dishes to get a mixture of stew prepared by nuns and UNRRA helpers. The heat was particularly oppressive and the hot cookers and boiling kettles accelerated the hall temperature to stifling proportions. Madelaine moved across the hall towards the food preparation area at the side. She tried to maintain a dispassionate attitude as she walked. She made a mental note of people on crutches or those in a feeble state intending to return to them and dispense medicine.
Her blonde good looks and youthful, healthy appearance drew a mixture of reactions from the assembled deprived and disenfranchised throng. Some showed jealousy and resentment, others admiration, but she was unperturbed. Refreshed from a long sleep the previous night, she was passionate about her UNRRA work and although the challenges it imposed sometimes seemed insurmountable, she somehow coped.
There was a muffled noise level in the hall. Various European dialects could be heard greeting each other and enquiring about lost friends and family in expectant tones. When Madelaine heard French being spoken, she went to the group enquiring of their condition and giving them special advice. Ironically, a gramophone was playing gentle music throughout the hall by means of a speaker, which soothed fragile feelings. The tune being played had been a hit in the United States in 1945 titled ‘Its been a long time’ by Harry James, the trumpet playing band leader. Madelaine imagined that the composer could never have foreseen such an appropriate setting or an audience such as this one.
She reached the catering tables with their long line of simmering soup and stews in large metal containers, and saw Sister Marte diligently distributing bread to eager and impatient hands. Still wearing her floor-length black habit, but now with sleeves rolled up, Marte was perspiring in the humid heat.
Madelaine caught her eye and without pausing in her duties, the nun said, "Alois Brunner is in Rome. He intends going to a musical performance tomorrow evening and his papers should come through in a couple of days with assistance from Bishop Hudal.” Sister Marte had imparted this information conspiratorially and with alacrity because of her committed obligation to queues of people in front of her and her working companions.
Madelaine outwardly remained impassive upon receiving this information. She merely nodded and whispered a barely audible ‘’thank you’’ above the background noise. Her innate capacity to second-guess Brunner's movements had been right. But she thought it strange that he intended to attend a musical recital in Rome. She thanked Sister Marte and casually walked back through the throngs of people, wondering all the more at the deviousness of Brunner.
Later that evening when she checked with the Opera and was informed that the Hamburg Orchestra was scheduled to play on the following Saturday, introducing Emil Darius as their new guest solo violinist, her heartbeat accelerated. But Brunner’s interest still did not make sense. It only came clear when she saw a poster advertising the musical event as being the first post-war celebration in Rome. The name Anna Krantz was there in bold letters as a member of the orchestra.
The impetus that was initiated all those years ago in the manager’s office of the Chase Bank in Paris was now about to reach a defining conclusion in a musical theatre in Rome. Madelaine knew she would have to draw upon hidden reserves of inner steel to confront the inevitable
imminent climax.
FORTY NINE
ROME: 1946
Madelaine had an obdurate attitude to the collaborators she was encountering through her work in the relief agency. She had lived a ‘double’ role during her years in Paris and knew the huge damage caused by the treachery and betrayal inflicted upon nationalistic resistance members by these abhorrent accomplices of an odious regime. Her determination demanded that no punishment could be too punitive for these contemptible collaborators. The absence of condemnation by the Vatican and its apathy to the barbarism of the Nazis which was being highlighted at the publicity conscious Nuremberg Trials further fuelled her determination to halt Brunner in his evil intent, and his compatriot Bishop Alois Hudal.
On this sultry afternoon, as she sat outside a small café in the area of Castel S Angelo she could see the outline of St. Peter’s Basilica against the blue cloudless sky. She thought to herself, what twisted logic had permitted the Catholic Church to sign a Concordat with a representative of the anti-Christ and then to hide behind the shield of neutrality. Was it the protection of the institution, even if it meant the subjugation of its traditional values?. She had no answer, but the catalogue of horrendous crimes now being uncovered by the victorious Allies and the conquering Red Army fuelled her determination to complete her personal vendetta.
The magnificent Teatro dell’Opera in Rome dates back to 1880. Originally known as Teatro Costanzi, it had received many reconstructions and upgrading in the succeeding years. Renowned for its ‘resonance chamber’, its acoustic achievements were the envy of other theatres. Its tiered seating provided for over one thousand six hundred patrons in cushioned comfort.
On Saturday, the city would welcome the first recital to take place since the ceasing of wartime hostilities. The visiting orchestra, the North German Radio Symphony Orchestra did not provoke antagonism but an acceptance of ‘the Arts’ being aloof from the cesspit of war. Madelaine looked at her ticket for the performance and noted that she was in the second gallery, the top tier of the three-tiered auditorium. She was relieved to know that her numbered seat would give her a commanding view of the theatre. The recital for Saturday was a sell-out, with black market tickets fetching high prices. The population were hungry for musical evenings and renewal of normality. The ticket office was full of people jostling for seats with the most advantageous view, and Madelaine was hoping to engage the female cashiers in conversation to see if a German fitting Brunner’s description had booked. Knowing it was a long shot to expect a positive result as he was most likely travelling under a different name. She surmised that Brunner would have to make his move after the performance. This would be the only time when Anna would be backstage and being the only female member of the orchestra, she would have private dressing room facilities. She would be at her most vulnerable at that time.
FIFTY
ROME: 1946
Anna Krantz was excited. Two years on from her terrible ordeal, she was entering a whole new world. Her musical talent had brought her to Rome from Hamburg with the North German Radio Symphony Orchestra. At just over sixteen years of age, she was fulfilling her early promise of beauty. Blonde and blue-eyed, long-limbed and with a natural elegance, she had endeared herself to the older members of the orchestra, many of whom had National Socialist sympathies and admiration for Aryan attributes. She was the only female member, which added to her allure.
For the performance in Rome, the orchestra was to be conducted by the Composer Gunter Wand as a guest. Renowned as a conductor of the Cologne Opera, he was already the recipient of significant musical awards. He recognised Anna's talent and invited her to play second violin, sitting beside the principal of the first violins who was the leader concertmaster of the Orchestra. The orchestral layout would be in the shape of a fan with the string sections of the first violins on the conductor’s left. The visiting orchestra was fifty-two members, mainly middle-aged men, who collectively played a huge variety of musical instruments. Apart from the conductor, the only other guest to play in the orchestra for this one-night performance was the nineteen-year-old Emil Darius. He would sit in front of the conductor with the first strings. It was at the rehearsal that he noticed her.
Friday, August 30th, was the one and only rehearsal opportunity the orchestra would have prior to the actual performance on Saturday evening. The theatre was hot; there was air conditioning but it was not very effective and as Emil took his place among the first strings, he shuddered to consider how he would tolerate the heat that evening when they would all be wearing restrictive formal evening dress. When his eyes beheld Anna, she seemed unaffected by the heat in a cool light summer dress among the older, perspiring, men, where she appeared an oasis of cool and calm. Catching his eye from twenty feet away, she quickly smiled across at his handsome face and her blue eyes seemed to him to twinkle in the heat of the theatre.
The orchestra, rehearsing on the elevated stage were not the only ones present in the theatre that Friday afternoon. There was a myriad of supporting staff, stagehands, cleaners, cloakroom people and lighting technicians. A small café in the entrance foyer was receiving last minute replenishing with ersatz coffee and gelato, also whatever drinks were available. Security was non-existent. It was not a concern as no risk of any nature was perceived by the organising committee. Consequently, nobody noticed the dark-haired middle-aged man, wearing a loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt standing casually in the corner shadows on the lower level, right of the stage. Alois Brunner was intensely focused on Anna Krantz, but unlike the pleasurable, inviting look that Emil Darius had extended to her some forty minutes earlier, she would have been shocked to realise the vitriolic hatred that emanated from him. She played on, blissfully ignorant and unaware.
He would wait one more day. Turning away, he thought to himself, tomorrow would be his long-awaited virtuoso performance.
FIFTY ONE
ROME: 1946
At 7 p.m., the heat of the summer evening in the Piazza Beniamino, where the Teatro dell Opera was located, enveloped the large crowd in a humid hug. Some of the expected sixteen hundred people had already taken their seats in the theatre in the vain effort to escape the heat, even though the performance was not scheduled to commence until 8 p.m. The building had recently been modernised and a welcome addition was air-conditioning. It was now a suitable venue to attract worldwide celebrated productions glorying in its renowned acoustics and amphitheatre design.
Madelaine was among the bustling throng outside the Piazza. She had spent the previous hour in the relative cool of the nearby church of Santa Maria della Vittoria, praying. She was certain that Brunner would make his move tonight as she knew from Sister Marte that his exit papers from Bishop Hudal were imminent. It had been over three years since Brunner had come to the Chase Bank in Paris for Heydrich’s file and she was not sure if she would recognise him after all these years. Inevitably, he would be disguised in some form, but his stature and height would remain the same. As she mingled with the colourful crowd, she furtively searched every face for giveaway clues, but it was an impossible task and a forlorn hope. The theatre was filling up as she took her seat in the third tier offering her a commanding view of the stage and the assembled crowd below her. The orchestra members were now also taking their allotted places. Looking resplendent in their formal suits, she spotted the elegant dark haired Emil Darius and smiled to herself an inner glow of satisfaction, knowing that he would not be there but for her efforts. But, the striking figure that would capture all the attention from the audience was Anna Krantz. Taking her allotted place tuning the first strings, she wore a dark navy full-length dress in satin, with an off-the-shoulder design accentuating her pearl pale skin. There were sequins on both sleeves which shimmered when caught by the strong lighting from over the stage. She exuded maturity with a confident demeanour.
When Anna looked across from her position at the front of the orchestra amongst the first violins, she caught the admiring eye of Emil Darius seated just three
seats to her left. There seemed to be an instantaneous frisson between them as they both readied and fine-tuned their instruments. When the Concertmaster came on stage, this middle-aged man, leader of the first violin section, and the liaison between the conductor and the orchestra, he focussed upon both Emil and Anna, the two being excited at their initial introduction to this level of performance. Aware of both their talents, he smiled encouragingly and transmitted an empathy to stimulate their ability. Anna had noticed Emil at the preliminary rehearsal the day before, attracted by his dark appearance and also by his mastery and control of the musical scores. While no words were exchanged between them, she felt a connection through a feeling of mystery and emotion that seemed to her deeper than fascination. These were emerging sensations, encompassing desire and intimacy. She was not aware that Emil was experiencing the same sensation and intensity by her very presence.
Finally, the assembled orchestra began to play under the conductor’s baton. The first was Johann Strauss’s Die Fledermaus which was greeted by grateful applause. This was followed quickly by Il Trovatore and the demonstrative audience who had been deprived of culture for years, noisily expressed their appreciation. Rising to her feet with the rest of the assembly to applaud these two opening scores, she was still scanning the people in the main body of the theatre underneath her, when she detected something somewhat out of the ordinary. There was a man seated in one of the rows near the front of the stage who had a small bunch of flowers on his knees. He was noticeable because he did not stand up to applaud. At first, she thought it was because he was holding flowers, but then she thought it strange that he was the only man in this situation. With an increasing heartbeat, she turned to an elderly Italian lady seated beside her and politely enquired if she could borrow her opera glasses for just a moment “Si, si, signorina”. and a few seconds later Madelaine was focussing on the back of Alois Brunner’s head, in front of the stage, less than 30 feet from Anna Krantz. When he turned his head slightly to his left, she got a profile view and was now certain it was him. So, with a sharp intake of breath she knew that however hazardous the consequences, she must now act.
A Right to Plunder Page 18
