Tell Me Who I Am

by Julia Navarro

  “Of course, I have said that it is an honor for me. And now let me propose a toast: to the future of Germany!”

  “And the Führer,” Frau Schneider added.

  When Bob Robinson came to Max and Amelia’s house to pick up the material he had lent them, it was hard for him to imagine just how successful the dinner party had been.

  “It’s what we suspected, but now we have proof! We have to keep on pulling the line until we catch a really big fish.”

  “And isn’t the big fish Professor Fritz Winkler?” Max asked.

  “Of course, but we may be able to fish more. I’m going to send a message to Albert James, I think that this merits his coming to Cairo. You must do whatever it is they ask, keep on gaining their trust, and get the real names of the people who are part of the group, the banks they use, the contacts they have in the higher echelons of Egyptian government... Well, we really need to know everything.”

  “You shouldn’t come here,” Max said. “They’ve welcomed us into the group, but I suppose they’ll be watching us until they are sure of our loyalty. So it will be difficult to explain an American visiting our house.”

  “You’re right, but sometimes doing things in a simple way is how you end up complicating them. My cover in Egypt is that I am a traveling salesman for American manufactured products. This means that I can have contacts at the highest levels, and I have met a number of businessmen. You could say that you met me at a dinner with one of them.”

  “What, and we suddenly became friends?” Max said.

  “No, it’s not a good idea, Bob. Maybe... I don’t know... It might work,” Amelia said.

  “What?” the two men asked in unison.

  “You could justify your presence in the building by coming to have lessons with Dr. Ram. He’s a teacher, and he makes money on the side by teaching Arabic to foreigners like us. You could arrange to come and have lessons with him a couple of times a week.”

  “But I speak the language quite well,” Bob complained.

  “But you want to perfect your knowledge, tell him that you don’t write it too well, and you need to know how to write to do your business. Maybe one day a week will be enough.”

  Throughout 1946, Amelia and Max ingratiated themselves step by step into Ernst Schneider’s group. They didn’t share much information with them to begin with, but they invited the couple to patriotic displays that took place in the basement of the Schneiders’ enormous house. Agnete talked Amelia into helping her embroider a large swastika flag.

  Albert James came to see them on three occasions and told them that the information they were gathering was of immense use to American intelligence.

  “Now we know the modus operandi of the groups that fled Germany. It is difficult to get bank information in Switzerland, but we’ve been able to follow certain operations made from here. Their organization is much more complicated than they have told you.”

  On one of these visits, Max asked Albert how long they would have to stay in Cairo.

  “Fritz Winkler has not yet shown his face, but if he is here, then he will. It’s just a question of time. In any case, the information that you have given us ever since you infiltrated the organization has been of great use to us.”

  “I would like to go back to Germany. Friedrich is now happier speaking Arabic than German. He’s growing up like the boys do here, without any reference to the German system of values, to German culture, apart from what Amelia and I are able to offer him. I think that he would prefer to be here than to be in Germany.”

  “You are here voluntarily; if you want to return, I will arrange things so that you can,” Albert said, without hiding the fact that he was strongly opposed to Max’s suggestion.

  “No, we won’t go, not yet,” Amelia interrupted. “What do you want to do in Berlin? Do you want us to die of hunger? Nobody there needs us, and here they do. They pay us well for it, too. I am saving money, I’m doing it for when we have no option but to return, and then we will be able to buy food. But we don’t have enough yet, and I don’t want to go back to Berlin in order to become a beggar. I’m asking you to hold on a little longer, Max.”

  “I feel disgusted with myself, having to see these people, listen to their stupid speeches, hear them assert that the Fourth Reich will come into being, even suggest that I might make a good Führer, having suffered so much for the fatherland. They see me on a podium, me, a cripple, calling for Germans to rebel. They are mad! But I hate deceit, I am not like you are. I feel disdain for these people, but I feel disgust at deceiving them.”

  “Think about it. I am going back to Berlin the day after tomorrow. If you want to go back I will organize everything,” Albert replied.

  Amelia went with him to the door.

  “He’s depressed, you can’t imagine what all these meetings are like, with the swastika banners and everything.”

  “It would be a setback if you decided to return, but it would be worse if you stayed and Max couldn’t deal with it and got nervous. He has learnt the trade much later than you, Amelia, but you have to have nerves of steel for this business.”

  “It’s a business that has changed you, Albert,” Amelia said.

  “When I first met you, what I loved most was my job, and then I fell in love with you, and then the war came and I had no choice.”

  “You have a choice, Albert, you can leave all this and go back to work.”

  “No, I can’t, I can’t now. Once you have dedicated yourself to this line of work, there’s no way back.”

  Albert came back the next day and Max told him that he had made a decision.

  “One more year, Albert, one more year. If Winkler doesn’t turn up in that amount of time, then he’s not here. We will go back to Berlin in a year.”

  “Alright, a year.”

  14

  But the wait went on for longer than a year. At the end of 1947, Ernst Schneider received a letter that provoked in him happiness and anxiety in equal measure.

  By then Max had become Schneider’s right-hand man when it came to investing the group’s property in the international market.

  Schneider seemed to trust Baron von Schumann unreservedly, but even so he did not give him details of the contents of the letter that had affected him so much. He only said that they would shortly receive a visit from a war hero and from his father, a preeminent figure; both of them had been in hiding so that the Allies would not take them.

  Max told Amelia this immediately.

  “I don’t know who it could be, but we need to tell Bob Robinson at once.”

  “It could be Winkler,” she said.

  “I don’t know, but they are very important people. Schneider told me that they will be staying in his house, and that he had to speak with Wulff in order to get a guarantee of safety for the two who will be coming.”

  “Where are they coming from?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  Frau Schneider was more explicit than her husband, and when she met with Amelia two days later in the Café Saladin, she couldn’t resist offering confidences.

  “The baron will have told you that we are expecting guests. You can’t imagine who they are, my dear, the Allies were looking desperately for one of them, he’s a very important man. They left Berlin the same day Hitler killed himself, and they’ve been in Spain almost all this time. Franco has good relations with the British and the Americans, so even though he does protect our people they will be safer here. Our group will protect them. Sergeant Martin Wulff—and here she looked at the owner of the café out of the corner of her eye—served with one of them. We still can’t tell you who they are, but I assure you that you will know them. They will be staying in our house, and I’ve asked permission from my husband to organize a dinner in their honor.”

  Neither Max nor Amelia got any more information out of the Schneiders. All they could do was wait, to Max’s despair, because he had organized their return to Berlin for the beginning of 1948. Now they had no op
tion but to wait and find out who these mysterious strangers would be.

  Herr Schneider told Max that he wouldn’t see them for a few days.

  “Our guests are coming and I have to make sure that everything goes well. I’ll keep you informed.”

  As 1947 came to an end, they received an invitation from the Schneiders to see the old year out at their house along with other fellow-countrymen.

  The day came, and as Amelia helped Max to dress for dinner, she couldn’t but be aware of how worried he was.

  “Don’t worry, it will all be alright,” she said, to cheer him up.

  “It could be Winkler and his father, it could be others, but whoever they are they must be very important. I can’t help but be worried; if it is Winkler, he’ll recognize us, and then what will we say?”

  “You are an officer and a hero, and so you are free of any suspicion.”

  “Please, Amelia! Winkler knows where and why I lost my legs. And he knows you. He’ll tell the others who we really are.”

  “We’ve never hidden who we are. And even though Winkler has always suspected me, he’s never been able to prove anything.”

  “Except that you had in your hands one of the detonators with which the Greek Resistance blew up a German convoy. I have to tell you that I thought Winkler was never going to show up.”

  “It may not be him,” Amelia said.

  “I have a foreboding.”

  “Don’t worry, Bob or his men will be close. The taxi driver who is taking us to the Schneider’s house is with American intelligence.”

  Amelia didn’t say anything, but she had in her bag the little pistol that Albert James had given her when she had arrived in Cairo.

  Max knew that the weapon existed, but he never thought that Amelia or he would have cause to use it.

  Frau Schneider had pushed the boat out to create a Christmas-like atmosphere for the end-of-year party. There was a fir tree in the garden decorated with lights and crystal balls. Amelia wondered how she could have gotten a Christmas tree in Egypt. The hall and the salon were also decorated with ribbons and candles.

  They said hello to the Schneiders’ guests. They knew them all, they were the most important members of that group of exiled Nazis. But they did not see any new faces. Agnete whispered to Amelia that the two special guests were about to come down from their rooms.

  Suddenly Herr Schneider rang a bell to get his guests’ attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have two great patriots with us tonight, two men who have sacrificed themselves for Germany, and who were able to escape in time, so as not to fall into the hands of our enemies. They have been in hiding for a long time, but we finally have them with us. Their journey here has not been easy, and they only got here a couple of hours ago. Like many of you, they now have new identities, and we will address them by their new names. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for Günter and Hans Fischer.”

  Two men came into the salon. One of them was an old man who walked with a stoop and bore a tired look in his eyes; he was leaning on the arm of the other man, who walked upright and looked like a soldier. When they came in, everyone applauded enthusiastically.

  Schneider introduced the two men to the rest of the guests, and as he did so, Amelia tried to keep a hold on her emotions, while she squeezed Max’s hand.

  She had seen those eyes before, years ago, those blue eyes, cold as snow. She had seen them filled with hatred and anger. There was no doubt in her mind that Günter Fischer was Colonel Winkler, and Horst Fischer must be his father.

  They waited their turn to be introduced. Herr Schneider pointed proudly to Max.

  “I would like to introduce you to an exceptional man, a hero, Baron von Schumann and his charming wife Amelia.”

  A tremor crossed Günter Fischer’s face while he looked first at Max and then at Amelia, but he made no sign of having recognized them. He shook Max’s hand and kissed Amelia’s.

  “So, even heroes have been forced into exile,” he said sarcastically, to Herr Schneider’s amazement.

  Frau Schneider asked them to go through to the dining room, so there was no time for more comments. The dinner took place amid a welter of toasts to Germany, the Führer, and the Third Reich, but also to the future, to the Fourth Reich, which the men gathered here today would shortly help to rise victorious over its enemies.

  Dr. Winkler, under the name of Horst Fischer, was the center of attention of all the guests. They listened with devout attention as he spoke of Germany’s technical superiority, assuring them that German scientists were a long way ahead of both the Americans and the Russians, not just in arms development, but also in medical science.

  “I would prefer to die rather than to fall into the hands of the Allies. I know that a lot of my colleagues have turned traitor rather than go to trial, they carry on their research and tell all our secrets to the new masters of the world. I will not do that. I swear loyalty to the Führer, and above all I swear loyalty to Germany, and I will never betray either of them.”

  His son heard this in silence, looking first at Max and then at Amelia.

  It was not until the end of the dinner, after moving to another salon, that Günter Fischer went over to Herr Schneider and whispered something in his ear that appeared to alarm his host. Immediately Schneider, Fischer, and certain other guests left the room and headed to Schneider’s office.

  Amelia, who had seen what was going on, took the opportunity to leave the salon and get to Herr Schneider’s office before the others, where she hid behind the thick curtains. She prayed that they would not discover her: If they did, then they would surely kill her then and there.

  “Do you know who you have in your house?” Günter Fischer said, talking angrily to Herr Schneider.

  “I hope that none of my guests has upset you. They are all people in whom I have the greatest trust.”

  “Trust! We have a spy among us.”

  “A spy! What are you saying!” Schneider’s tone of voice was almost hysterical.

  “Amelia Garayoa is a spy,” Fischer insisted.

  “What are you saying? Explain yourself,” his father ordered.

  “Herr Fischer, I assure you that...”

  But Fischer didn’t let Schneider continue.

  “Stop talking nonsense and use my real name now that we’re alone.”

  “It’s better if we get used to the new ones, or else we might give ourselves away in public,” Wulff said.

  “Alright, then I’ll carry on being Herr Fischer. But now listen to me. This woman is a spy. She killed an SS officer in Rome. She was involved in the disappearance of one of the Reich’s best agents. There was nothing that could be proven against her until she was arrested in Greece along with a group of partisans after they had destroyed a convoy, killing dozens of Wehrmacht soldiers and blowing up a large quantity of military supplies.”

  “But she is Baron von Schumann’s wife! You must be mistaken!” Schneider dared protest.

  “The baron was in the convoy; she left him a cripple. I’ve told you that she is a dangerous woman, a murderer. And she is not his wife. His wife died in Berlin, in an RAF bombardment.”

  “I know, I know, and when he was widowed, he married Amelia.”

  “No, no, they never got married. She is married, she has a husband in Spain, although they have been separated for years. She has a son.”

  “But the baron... ,” Schneider insisted.

  “You’re an idiot! What don’t you understand? You’re a real idiot! She left him a cripple, he lost his legs because of her, and instead of killing her, he forgave her, he even got her out of Ravensbrück. He’s one of those decadent aristocrats who have no place in the new Germany. His code of honor is only a front for his weakness. He should have killed her personally; but here they are, holding each other’s hands.”

  “Son, if that is the case, then we have to act. Do you think she recognized you?” the false Herr Fischer asked his false son.

/>   “I think so, I think so. The baron didn’t recognize me, but she did... I realized how she was looking at me. Of course we have to act.”

  “I’ll take care of both of them,” Wulff said.

  Schneider seemed distraught, and the other three guests who had come with them supported the Fischers.

  “We have been in hiding for two years, with the Allies and their spies on our trail, we’ve managed to escape from Spain, we’ve been through things you couldn’t even begin to imagine and we will not fall into the hands of the British, or whoever it is this damn woman works for,” the false Günter Fischer said.

  “Of course, they have to disappear, we’re running a great risk. The Baron has been collaborating with our friend Schneider on the financial side of things, and if he talks... It could have very disagreeable consequences for all of us,” one of the others said.

  “I can’t believe what you’re saying, if it were the case, then they would have turned us in a long time ago, and they have not,” Schneider said, trying to defend himself.

  “The baron is a puppet in the hands of this woman, maybe he doesn’t even know what she is doing, but she... I’m telling you, I know her well. She is a spy and a murderer.”

  Günter Fischer touched his face as if it were a mask.

  “My father and I have had to have plastic surgery in order to get our new identities. You should know that I still feel the pain of the two operations I had to undergo. No, I am not willing for my father to run any risk. We cannot recover Germany without men like him. We have to get rid of this woman, and of the baron, and as soon as possible. Tonight.”

  The men looked at him in silence, and one by one they nodded. They agreed that they needed to finish with Amelia and the baron. Martin Wulff took a pistol out of a shoulder holster and got up, heading toward the door.