When the applause for Il Trovatore died down, Madelaine looked at her watch. She estimated that the concert had another hour and a half before finishing. Rising from her seat, she made her way to the aisle and onwards towards the exit sign. Some surprised looks greeted her as she excused herself past some ushers and quickened her walk.
When she had seen the unmistakable profile of Brunner through the opera glasses she had made an instant decision based upon her female intuition. Making her way out through the main entrance foyer into the still, balmy evening, she walked briskly down the paved pathway at the side of the imposing theatre building. Reaching the sign ‘Performers Entrance’ at the rear, she opened a heavy unlocked door to reveal a long narrow brightly lit corridor at the end of which she found what she was looking for, the ‘female dressing room’. An elderly man was sweeping outside and smiled as she entered, thinking to himself that she looked like a diva.
Inside, the dressing room was a revelation. The room was small but adequate as there were very few female artists in musical performances. Rectangular in shape with one wall cloaked in full-length mirrors and brightly lit stark bulbs illuminating that entire area. The rest of the room was a hotchpotch of shelving and racks full of costume clothing suitable for any operatic occasion. As Madelaine looked about, she saw evidence of Anna’s presence: a small carry bag holding her ‘day’ clothes and underneath the chair facing the mirrored wall, were her change of shoes. There was a toilet cubicle in the corner hidden behind some tall standing tailor dummies and it was here that she decided to secrete herself.
Standing in the gloom of the cubicle with the door slightly ajar, she had a commanding view of the brightly lit room. Straining her ears, she could barely make out the faint musical arias and the thunderous applause that followed from the auditorium. It seemed an age until she heard male voices coming down the corridor obviously in a joyous mood having been well received by an enthusiastic audience. Finally, the door opened and she saw Anna entering the room. Close up, she had acquired a mature look, no longer the unsure gangly child when last seen in Paris those few years ago. She moved with a style and confidence that belied her still youthful age. Sitting down in front of the large bright walled mirrors, she began to attend to her make-up. Madelaine’s instincts had proven to be right. Within moments, the door opened and she could see Alois Brunner standing there with a large bouquet of flowers. Madelaine's heart was racing. Brunner looked emaciated. He was a shadow of the uniformed SS Captain she had last seen in Paris. Anna looked up from her chair but did not express much surprise; she appeared to be conditioned to receiving adornments after her performances. Brunner wore a short-sleeved shirt and when he extended his arm to proffer the floral bouquet to Anna, the cool air fan behind her blew the sleeve up sufficiently for her to see the exposed underarm tattoo reflected in the brightly lit mirror. It was then she let out a primal scream. The terror of April 1945 in Hamburg came flooding back in that instant. She did not recognise the man but the tattoo was etched in her subconscious memory. Frozen with fear, she tried to stand up from the chair as he came around her back. Her legs would not respond. She cowered like a frightened animal as, reflected in the mirror, she saw him pull an open knife from his belt. His other hand roughly grabbed her long blond hair to hold her head as his intention was to cut her throat with one strong incision of the knife. In that instance of intended murder by Brunner, he caught a blurred reflection in the brightly lit mirror of a woman behind him but he never knew what hit him. Madelaine's timing was perfect, she struck with all the fury and hatred that had been fermenting for years within her. A heavy piece of oak shelving had caught Brunner on the side of the head. A mist of his blood sprayed the mirrored walls as he sank to the floor. The knife went spinning across the shelving as Madelaine prepared to apply the coup de grace which she knew at that moment would kill Brunner. Anna had also slid to the floor and in a bizarre ‘dance macabre’ she was hysterically trying to undo the entangled embrace from the bloodied man who moments earlier was intent on extinguishing her life. Standing over the bloody carnage that she had created, Madelaine resisted the fatal blow to the man she despised. Still holding the heavy wooden shelving, she was fearful of hitting Anna if she struck again. Instead, she helped her to her feet, as she was entering a confused stupor while slipping on the bloodied floor, but instinctively clung to the stranger who had provided protection. Anna recovered composure enough to walk out of the building with Madelaine's arm around her shoulder. They closed the door to the female dressing room, leaving a bloodied, disfigured, unconscious Alois Brunner on the floor.
FIFTY TWO
ROME: 1946
It was dark as the two women made their way along the many narrow streets that seemed to endlessly intersect Rome. The night air was cool and had a welcoming freshness as Madelaine struggled to support a nearly lifeless Anna, stumbling along in a stupor of confusion. Shielding her with a long shawl, passers-by only saw two women who had perhaps imbibed too much vino and were enjoying la dolce vita. Anna's head was sore from the savage attack and Brunner's blood covered her hair and her performance gown. Unable to comprehend anything, she clung to this stranger who had intervened to save her life but the trauma she was enduring erased any questions. As they struggled and weaved their way along the uneven pathways, Madelaine was thinking furiously about their predicament. She had successfully stopped Brunner from carrying out his mortal mission but beyond that, her position was unplanned. Crossing the thoroughfare at Via del Corso, they found themselves approaching the Umberto Bridge to cross the river leading to the Castel S. Angelo. It was there that Madelaine decided to make her way along the Via della Conciliazione leading straight to the Vatican.
Speaking slowly and softly in German, she told Anna not to worry, that everything would soon be clear to her and she was now safe from harm with secure and welcoming refuge. It was past midnight when Madelaine knocked upon the strong brown mahogany door reflecting the full moon’s light on its shining surface. Anna was near to total collapse and was accessing the final levels of physical reserve. They did not have too long a wait. Within the building, they could hear the sound of clipped footsteps approaching on the marble hall.
It was Sister Marte who opened the door. Her hand went to her mouth in shock when she beheld Madelaine and Anna both now very bedraggled and covered in blood. “Mein Gott, Madelaine”, was all she could say.
Silently, she ushered the dilapidated duo into the building and they followed her into the same room where Madelaine had first met Sister Marte. Both were exhausted, mentally and physically, they sat down on the sturdy wooden chairs. Minutes passed and finally, Madelaine spoke in German, relating to Sister Marte that Anna had a very bad experience with a serious assault on her life from a lunatic who she described as probably a war refugee who had suffered from delusion. She said it was fortunate that she had gone backstage at that time to see Anna and added that she had no idea who the assailant could be. Marte’s compassionate nature now took over. She rang a small bell summoning a novice nun who entered a few minutes later. “Please bring some tea and food for my two friends and prepare a place in our infirmary for injured Anna. Then we will arrange for her to go to the Israelite Hospital where there is excellent medical care and rehabilitation”. A grateful Madelaine thanked her for this sanctuary and relaxed finally in the security she had found. As Marte was standing to leave the room she said goodnight to Madelaine and added, “I have not yet heard from your friend Alois Brunner, but I am sure he will make contact soon and I will of course let you know’’.
FIFTY THREE
ROME: 1946
Alois Brunner regained consciousness about forty minutes later. He could not see; everything was badly blurred. He could scarcely move his fractured body, lying alone on the wooden floor sharp pangs of pain wracked him everywhere. His right arm had limited movement and permitted him to propel and slide across the blood-saturated surface. For him, everything was dark but he could hear muffled voices approach
ing in the distance.
The two young Italian cleaning girls who came habitually every night to clean the performers’ dressing rooms beheld a sight that shocked them to their very core. Brunner was practically in extremis, writhing on the floor like a coiled serpent, covered in blood and pieces of flesh. His parchment pallor could be seen through the coagulated blood and his right eyeball was smashed, giving him a monstrous glacial grin. But for his tremorous movements, the cleaners would have confirmed him a corpse. One raced out to get help while the other, who demonstrated a basic knowledge of first-aid, placed a small rolled-up floor rug underneath his neck. As she did so, she strove to hear a barely audible whisper coming from his wheezing, gurgling throat. She could scarcely make out the word ‘Hudal’. It meant nothing to her but when he kept trying to repeat it she assured him in Italian, which he did not understand, that when help arrived, ‘Hudal' would be mentioned.
The ambulance team of three medics arrived particularly quickly and dealt very efficiently and professionally with Brunner. Placing him carefully on a stretcher into the ambulance and administering gauze bandages to his more obvious wounds. Penicillin, the new wonder drug was mentioned and speaking in Italian, they feared for his survival. Inured as they were to ‘gory’ sights, the ambulance crew exchanged fearful glances among themselves that this man was doomed. All through this movement, he kept repeating the word ‘Hudal' each time more urgently and with increasing clarity. They knew that there was no point in asking him questions about what had occurred as his wounds were life threatening. One of the medic assistants treating him was also a Red Cross volunteer and knew Bishop Hudal who had often visited their premises to access documentation.
The medic leaned closer to Brunner’s mouth and said in Italian, “Tell me your name”. Brunner could barely hear the request but understood enough to whisper, “Brunner”. Due to the persistent pleas of “Hudal” from the injured man, he decided to telephone the Red Cross office to see if there was any contact or communication for the Bishop. They did not have long to wait; word came back from Bishop Hudal’s office to take him to the Vatican infirmary.
If Anna Krantz had looked up from her bed when a semi-naked man covered in blood stained bandages was wheeled past her on a stretcher going towards the infirmary, she would have recognised the same tattoo under his exposed left arm. But, fortunately, she was still in a semi-conscious state.
The medical evidence suggested that Anna Krantz suffered superficial cuts and abrasions and her throat had a minor knife slash obviously interrupted before any significant artery damage was caused. She was comfortable in the female infirmary and was attended diligently by Sister Marte and her assistant nuns. She grew stronger daily and as her physicality returned she began to relive the nightmare of her concert night. Who had tried to kill her and why?. The flash of recollection of the underarm tattoo made no sense. Who was the woman that reflected in the dressing room mirror that saved her life and how was she there at that precise moment?
One month had passed when a smiling civilian nurse presented at the end of her bed one sunny morning. “Good news today Anna, you are due to leave tomorrow. All is now well with you and your orchestra members want you back in Hamburg. There are more tours planned and you are one of their favourites”.
Anna was pleased and looked forward to her rehabilitation and thought to herself that she would have to find answers. She did not know that Madelaine had been in contact every day with Sister Marte and intended to reveal all to Anna upon her discharge.
Madelaine had visited the infirmary late one night to see and enquire about Alois Brunner. The talk she had with a young German medic who was on duty told her that he was lucky to survive after such horrendous injuries. His left eye was blind, one of his vertebrae was smashed and his ear-drums were burst. She was assured that he would live but he would never be the same person again and would be in the infirmary for a considerable time. “You know he is under the protection of Bishop Hudal. We have instructions to give him the best of medical attention. We do not know what happened to him but his injuries are very serious and he will be with us here for a long time”.
Madelaine asked the doctor to point out which bed was occupied by Brunner. She stood alone at the end of Brunner’s bed. She knew he could not properly focus upon her with his remaining eye and possibly his hearing was damaged beyond repair. But he somehow sensed her presence and squirmed in deep discomfort. She approached him and her shadow hung over him. She spoke slowly, in German, into his ear. “Next time, Herr Brunner, you will not be so lucky, I will kill you”. She watched his body cower and contort in a fearful cringe as he was overcome with an incomprehensible dread.
Madelaine then left the infirmary with a smile of satisfaction and cheerfully bid the young German medic seated at his desk, a pleasant evening.
FIFTY FOUR
LYON: 1946
When Anna returned to Hamburg, she was assailed with questions by her guardian, Hans, and by Major Jim Herrin, as to what had happened in Rome. She still carried the scars on her neck from the attack but was unable to explain the motivation for the assault or how her saviour, Madelaine, came to be in the dressing room at that crucial time. Who would want to hurt her and intend to kill her, she already had suffered so much. Hans was the most enquiring and the most protective. He assumed that it was a victim of Heydrich that decided to seek revenge on a ‘soft target'. There were so many unanswered questions.
When the urgent message came from the ‘mysterious Madelaine’ requesting her to come to Lyon, Hans said, “You must go and find out who she is and how she saved your life. She has all the answers; she is a force for good”. Hans had offered to accompany her, but his work assisting the British was too important for him to leave.
The message from Madelaine was brief. ‘… most important that you come to Lyon … will reveal all motives and actions also will be most financially beneficial… confirm to me on secure telephone line…’
Madelaine had thought it was the perfect venue to meet, being her home town and the residence of Emil. She impressed upon Anna that it was vitally important for her to come and she also made it clear that she would reveal all about that fateful night in Rome. Anna received this news and was intrigued. She made preparations to go to Lyon and once again wished to see this strange woman and thank her for being her guardian angel.
A coffee shop in a quiet street off the Place Bellecour in Central Lyon was chosen by Madelaine to meet with Anna and Emil. She knew the owner from her childhood and requested a quiet booth with seating at the rear of the café where they would be undisturbed. When Emil received the request to meet from Madelaine, he was very curious as it was stressed as being of major importance and crucial to be there.
That Saturday afternoon was a balmy sunny day late in the year, as Madelaine hurried across the vast Place Bellecour, past the equestrian statue of Louis XIV, on her way to the café in Rue de la Republique. She wore a favourite sky blue fashionable dress which went well with her blond good looks. She was not oblivious to the admiring glances she was receiving from the throngs of people moving about this huge square. The many shops in Rue de la Republique were crowded with all representations of humanity that late autumn afternoon. It was as if the French Republic had been reborn, emerging into the sunlight from the choking shadows of a failed ideology. She greatly admired Vincent Auriol, the Resistance fighter who she hoped would become the first President of the Fourth Republic the following January. The paroxysm of organised cruelty that had suffocated the country had at last succumbed to democratic pressures assisted by capital from the Marshall Aid Plan. The leading Nazis had been condemned and executed at Nuremberg. The despised Vichy government had been dissolved and France was negotiating to become a founder member of NATO. Madelaine also felt a renewal of her passionately promoted nationalistic beliefs and she had plans to join a visionary political party to assist in advancing progressive reforms. The hangover in the French psyche and the ambiguous attitudes of blame
, guilt and collaboration charges were evaporating in the new dawn of expectation.
“Good Afternoon, Francois”, was Madelaine’s greeting on entering the café. An effusive Francois, the long-serving owner, ushered her to the reserved booth at the rear of the room. Anna and Emil were already seated and engaged in deep conversation. They had both, on their first meeting in Rome, felt an immediate attraction. Emil's dark looks and calm confidence were characteristics that Anna found inviting and conversely her delicate features and blond hair combined with a gentle demeanour were alluring to his own gracious spirit. This alchemy of physical attraction along with their affinity to the music and orchestral performances seemed to seal their fate. Madelaine was not to know that Emil had already written to Anna care of the orchestra in Hamburg, telling her of his feelings and his desire to meet her again. Now their reunion had come sooner than either had hoped. Both looked up and smiled when they saw Madelaine approach. Seating herself between them and holding their hands, she said, “We are here today, brought together by a providence that directed us on a journey that has confirmed the triumph of good over evil. It is an incredible story. Let us begin’’.
A Right to Plunder Page 19
