by Daniel Kalla
Jia-Li took a step back, but her spicy perfume still filled his nostrils. Her painted face creased with concern. She gestured to the bruising over his cheeks and neck. “Franz, what have they done to you?”
“I am fine,” Franz said. “Where are Sunny and Hannah? Please, Jia-Li!”
“They’re safe.” She shrugged slightly. “But I do not know exactly where.”
He held out his hand. “How can you not know?”
“They were staying with my mother, but they had to leave in a hurry.
Yang found them places with families who live on the outskirts of the city. We thought it best to separate them.”
Franz felt a cold rush. “Separate them? Why?”
Jia-Li viewed him for a second or two. “Sunny thought it safest for Hannah. Especially after she had gone to confront that SS colonel—”
“Oh, mein Gott! She confronted him? Meisinger?”
“Yes, two days ago.” Jia-Li’s powdered face broke into a small grin. “Franz, we found his weak spot.”
“What do you mean?”
“The colonel likes young boys.” She went on to describe how they had photographed Meisinger in flagrante delicto and how Sunny had threatened the colonel with the evidence.
“She provoked him with those?”
Jia-Li’s smile widened. “Sunny convinced him to leave Shanghai!” “She did?” Franz said, simultaneously shocked and elated. “Meisinger left Shanghai before getting an answer from the Japanese?” “Apparently so.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” A sense of pride washed over him. “I need to speak to Sunny. How do I reach her?”
“I will get Yang to pass a message to her.”
“Let Sunny know that I’m back at home. And I will wait for her there.” He gently clasped her arm with his left hand. “But, Jia-Li …” She tilted her head, looking suddenly tired. “Yes?” “Tell them not to let Hannah know I am home.” “Why not, Franz?”
“Hannah must believe I am still in custody. At least until we are convinced that the Nazis are truly gone.” He squeezed her arm once and let it go. “I know my daughter. She would risk everything to find me. I cannot allow that.”
Jia-Li nodded. “I will tell them.”
Franz hugged Jia-Li gratefully again and then headed back to the street. Checking his watch, he realized he still had time to meet Schwartzmann by eight o’clock.
The light was fading as Franz reached the Old City and wove his way down the curved streets past storefronts, restaurants and pagodas. He limped by the dejected Chinese merchants operating near-empty booths that, thanks to strict rationing, carried little merchandise and attracted few consumers. Several beckoned him urgently with calls and waves, but Franz shook his head and kept moving.
In the open square at the centre of the market, the renowned Woo Sing Ding tea house stood elevated on stilts above an emerald-coloured pond. Franz was about to step onto the zigzag bridge that led to the tea house when a voice called to him. He turned to see Hermann Schwartzmann standing at the edge of the pond with his pipe between his teeth and his hands buried in his pockets.
Schwartzmann studied Franz’s face for a moment but did not comment on the injuries. “It would be a lovely evening to stroll Yuyuan Garden. Would you agree, Dr. Adler?”
As they walked the garden maze, the diplomat glanced over either shoulder every few minutes, appearing more on edge than Franz had ever seen him. Schwartzmann said nothing until they stepped onto a pavilion overlooking a rock pond. He stopped and waved the stem of his pipe toward Franz’s face. “All that bruising, Dr. Adler? Your arm.”
“I spent several days in Bridge House.”
“Mmm. Of course.” Schwartzmann put the pipe back into his mouth and chewed the stem worriedly. “These are not good times for your people, are they?”
“That is putting it mildly indeed.” Franz exhaled.
“A terrible understatement, yes.” Schwartzmann gazed down at the pond. “And I’m afraid there are still more SS men arriving in Shanghai.”
Franz tensed. “I was led to believe Colonel Meisinger had left the city.”
“He has, yes.” Schwartzmann puffed on his pipe. “However, I have been informed that another group of SS has arrived. Their mission even more secretive than Meisinger’s.”
A fresh wave of dread rolled over Franz. “How can this be?” he sputtered.
Schwartzmann shook his head. “It’s all rumours and innuendo. None of us at the consulate even knows who has come.”
“For what purpose? After Meisinger, what more could the Nazis possibly ask of the Japanese?”
“I do not know.” Schwartzmann blew out his cheeks. “I wish I could be of more assistance. I am sorry. I just thought it best to apprise you of their arrival.”
Franz nodded distractedly. “I appreciate this information.”
Schwartzmann glanced nervously over his shoulder again. “Dr. Adler, I really cannot stay.” He dug a hand in his pocket, pulled out another fat envelope and held it out to Franz.
It was heavier than any previous one. “I am not convinced that money can solve our current problems, but thank you, Hermann,” Franz said. “It is incredibly generous of you.”
Schwartzmann extended his hand and Franz met the handshake. “Good luck.” The diplomat held on to Franz’s hand for an extra moment before letting go. “As I said, I only wish I could be of more help.”
“You have done more than most, Hermann.”
Schwartzmann opened his mouth as though to speak but seemed to change his mind. He nodded once, turned and walked away without looking back.
Franz sat down on a wooden bench and stared into the depths of the green pond before his feet. His arm throbbed and his body ached. New and old worries congealed inside him.
Oh, Sunny, we can never win. There will always be other Nazis.
Franz slid open the envelope’s flap with little enthusiasm. He pulled out the thick wad of Reichsmarks, recognizing that it represented at least twice as much as any of Schwartzmann’s previous donations. As he was shoving the cash back into the envelope, he glimpsed a single folded sheet, tucked below the bills. Franz pulled out the page, opened it and began to read.
Dear Franz,
You cannot know how much the added year of life and health you gave Edda meant to us both. I have lived off the memories of our borrowed time together since. To know how much you risked in order to help us, when you had so many legitimate reasons to turn your back, makes your actions that much more noble.
My gratitude extends beyond your fine surgical care. Before I met you, I had lost pride in my work and in myself. I once had an honourable career, striving to protect and better the lives of all Germans abroad. And then, somehow, I became a part of a dishonourable regime. I suspended my own sense of right and wrong in order to protect my career. And the short time working for the National Socialists negated all the good I had tried to accomplish in the preceding years.
After I became involved with you, assisting Germans in true need, something changed within me. I rediscovered the sense of purpose and reward that had been missing all those years. I shudder to think that I once represented Herr Hitler.
Unfortunately, my friend, this is goodbye. I have been recalled to Berlin for “immediate reassignment.” Such foolish Nazi doublespeak. Diplomats are not treated in such a manner unless they have fallen under suspicion. I have no doubt that some spy or informant has uncovered my connection to the refugees. And in many senses, I am relieved.
Be assured, my friend, that I will never allow them to send me back for one of their show trials. No, I will leave on my own terms. To be perfectly blunt, life holds little lustre for me without my beloved wife. And I look forward to the opportunity to be reunited with her.
I wish you and your people only the best of fortune in overcoming this latest crisis and all the other abuses and atrocities that have been foisted upon you.
My life has been enriched for knowing you,
You
r committed friend,
Hermann
CHAPTER 52
Sunny raced to the door more excited than ever to return home. She still had trouble believing the news that Yang had delivered to her at Fai’s home, but as she fumbled with the lock, she sensed Franz’s presence. Bounding inside, she cried out, “Franz! Franz!”
Her heart almost stopped as he rounded the corner. “Oh, Sunny!”
Franz limped toward her, his right arm hanging in a makeshift sling. Sunny launched herself into his open arm, almost toppling him. She clung to him until she felt him reposition his arm. She pulled back to assess him.
Pale and gaunt, he had a puffy black eye and swollen, scabbed lips. One cheek bore a long red mark that extended to his chin. Bruises circled his neck, evidence of the fingers that had choked him.
Eyes glistening, Sunny ran her fingers lightly over the stubble on his swollen cheek. “What have they done to you, my darling?” she gasped.
“None of it matters.” He skittered kisses over her lips, cheek and chin. “I thought I would never see you again. That was by far the worst of it.”
“For me too.” She pressed her lips to his.
After another long kiss, Franz loosened his grip on Sunny. “Where is Hannah?” he asked.
“With Yang at her sister’s place in the north end of Hongkew. They are taking good care of her. We … Franz, we cut her hair, and it’s black and straighter now. And you should hear her speak Shanghainese. She is so fluent!”
Franz swallowed. “I miss her terribly.”
Sunny grabbed him by his uninjured hand. “I can take you there now.”
His hand went limp in hers. “No. It is too dangerous for Hannah to be anywhere near me.”
Sunny beamed at him. “Did you not hear, Franz?” She couldn’t resist pecking him again on the lips. “We turned the tables on Meisinger! He and his henchmen are gone.”
“Jia-Li told me.” He mustered a tired smile. “Sunny, I am so proud of you.”
She squeezed his unresponsive hand tighter. “So what is troubling you?”
“The Nazis have found Schwartzmann out.” Franz went on to explain about the diplomat’s recall to Berlin and his suicidal intent. “After I read his letter, I tried to telephone. To offer Hermann a hiding place. But there is no answer. I think he might already have … left.”
Sunny touched his lip. “Oh, poor dear Hermann.”
Franz sighed. “Hermann told me that more SS have come to Shanghai.”
A chill ran up Sunny’s spine. “Why?”
He opened his mouth to speak but a rapping at the door stopped him. “That must be Esther and Simon.” “Simon is also free?” she asked.
“Esther telephoned me only an hour ago,” Franz said as he turned for the door.
Simon and Esther rushed inside. Everyone exchanged relieved hugs before settling in the sitting room.
Black and blue welts covered Simon’s forehead and chin. His already prominent nose was swollen and it deviated slightly to the left. But his smile had lost none of its usual sheen. “Franz, I heard you calling back to me in the cages,” Simon said as he touched the bridge of his broken nose. “But the guard had already got to me with his baton. Boy, did he beat a lesson into me. You never met anyone from the Bronx so quiet as me after that!”
Their legs touching, Esther held tightly to Simon’s hand. She looked from her husband to Franz. “Do you have any idea why they chose to release you now?” she asked.
Simon shrugged. “The Japs aren’t much for long goodbyes. They basically dumped me on the curb without a word of explanation.”
“I was treated the same,” Franz said.
“I wonder if it had anything to do with Meisinger’s departure?” Sunny suggested.
Esther sat up straight. “Meisinger is leaving Shanghai?” “He has already gone.” Franz nodded in Sunny’s direction. “Thanks to my brilliant wife.”
“And Jia-Li,” Sunny pointed out.
The worry drained from Esther’s face. “Mazel tov!” she cried. “Where would we be without you, Sunny?”
Simon patted Sunny’s hand. “Our very own Judith.” “Judith?” Sunny frowned.
“The biblical heroine,” Esther explained. “She saved the Israelites by assassinating the Assyrian leader, Holofernes.”
Simon chuckled. “I bet you old Holofernes was a swell salt-of-the-earth kind of guy compared with Meisinger.”
Franz stared at Simon stone-faced. “Meisinger may be gone. However, another group of SS men have come to Shanghai.”
Esther stiffened. “For us?” she asked in a hush.
Simon gently pulled Esther’s head onto his shoulder. “This might be related to Max’s telephone call,” he said.
“What did Feinstein have to say?” Franz asked.
“A rumour is running wild among the refugees. Some crazy story that the Nazis are planning to send Jews still trapped in Germany over here.”
Franz grimaced. “Here? To Shanghai?”
“To China, anyway,” Simon said. “Max is over the moon at the prospect of being reunited with his daughter’s family.” Sunny squinted at Simon. “Could it be true?”
Simon shrugged. “Max swears that the Germans are meeting individually with local Jewish leaders to explain their plan.”
Franz rose from the couch. “Nazis meeting with Jews in order to help reunite them with lost loved ones? It’s simply not possible.”
Simon rolled his shoulders again. “You should have heard Max go on.”
The telephone rang, and Sunny hurried over to answer it. “Adler residence.”
“Mrs. Adler, this is Colonel Kubota,” said the sombre voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, Colonel,” she said fondly, remembering the kindness he had shown her a few days before. “Have you heard that Franz has been released?”
“I am most pleased,” he said with little enthusiasm. “By chance, does Dr. Adler happen to be home?”
She turned to fetch Franz, but he was already on his way to the telephone. She passed him the receiver and leaned her head close to his, trying in vain to hear both sides of the conversation.
“Thank you. I am well.” Franz repositioned his sling. “Colonel, might I ask if there have been any developments in regard to the refugees?”
Franz listened a moment. Then his face suddenly blanched and his pupils dilated. “Me?” he murmured. “They want to meet me?”
CHAPTER 53
JULY 31, 1942, SHANGHAI
Clouds darkened the skies, but they only served to trap the heat and humidity at street level. Oblivious to the temperature, Franz stood behind Sunny at the curbside with his free arm wrapped around her waist. He said little, trying not to show how much the thought of leaving her again was tearing him apart.
Sunny looked over her shoulder at him. “What if this is some kind of trap, Franz?”
“They don’t need to trap me, darling. They had me in Bridge House for a week.”
“The Kempeitai had you.”
“The Nazis cannot touch us without Japanese consent.” His voice cracked. “I have to do everything I can to influence their decision. Including this, Sunny.”
“You’ve only just come home.” She turned and held him tightly, clinging to his bruised rib cage. Barely aware of the pain, he inhaled the fresh scent of her hair, wishing again that Hannah, Sunny and he were almost anywhere else on earth.
Franz heard the rumbling of a car’s engine. He stepped back and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Remember, Sunny, if I am not back by nightfall you must leave the house. You cannot stay here any longer.”
“I remember, Franz.”
“And you will check on Hannah at Yang’s sister’s? If you have even the slightest of doubts—”
“I will find her a more secure place.” Franz forced a smile and said, “Thank you.”
As Kubota’s car pulled up beside them, Sunny touched his face once. “Come home to me soon, Dr. Adler.”
Fra
nz swallowed away the lump in his throat. “Always … Mrs. Adler.”
The driver opened the door for Kubota, who climbed out slowly. He wore the same green uniform as before, but he looked completely changed. His once rigid back stooped and his shoulders sagged. Defeat clouded his face.
Registering Franz’s injuries, Kubota looked away in embarrassment and spoke to the ground. “Mrs. Adler, I am sorry, but I cannot permit you to accompany us.”
Sunny smiled tightly. “It never seems to be an option, Colonel.”
Franz folded his arms around Sunny again. She buried her face in his shoulder, and he gently rocked her on the spot. He could hear her soft muffled sobs. At a loss for reassuring words, he kissed the top of her head before releasing her.
As the car drove off, Franz stared back over his shoulder at Sunny, who stood as still as the trees lining the street. As soon as she was out of sight, he turned to Kubota. “If Meisinger has already left Shanghai, who represents the Germans now, Colonel?”
Kubota hung his head. “After the … incident with General Nogomi, I no longer attend to the general, nor am I privy to the details of further negotiations with the Germans.”
Franz nodded. “You have done all you can to try to protect us, Colonel. Thank you.”
“I fear that your gratitude is most premature, Dr. Adler.”
A familiar chill crept under Franz’s skin. As he thought of the meeting with General Nogomi, Samuel Reuben came to his mind again. His outrage with the surgeon had subsided, especially after hearing how poorly Reuben had fared in Bridge House. “Colonel, was Dr. Reuben released?”
Kubota nodded sombrely. “Dr. Reuben was rushed to the refugee hospital. It was the nearest one with space available for him.”
“What happened, Colonel?”
“Pneumonia.” Kubota didn’t look up to meet Franz’s eyes. “I understand there were also spinal fractures and other injuries. Clara tells me that he is not doing well at all.”
The car rolled to a stop on the Bund in front of the Cathay Hotel. Franz’s stomach knotted as he stepped through the revolving door into the sumptuous, sprawling lobby. He followed Kubota to the bank of elevators. As they rode up to the fifteenth floor, Kubota said, “Dr. Adler, I will not be present for this meeting.”
