Sam Harris Adventure Box Set

by P J Skinner

  ‘I know he didn’t find the document because I’ve got it right here. We can discuss the latest events with a cup of coffee. Let me show you your room and so on.’

  ‘Yes, that would be great. Do you think I might take a shower? I’m desperate to take off these dirty clothes.’

  ‘Go straight up the stairs and it’s on the right in your room. I’ll put a towel on your bed for you. See you in a minute.’

  While Saul was in the shower, Alfredo put the kettle on and laid the table. He took food out of the fridge and sliced some bread. Then he remembered that he had not left a towel for his guest. Grabbing one from the linen cupboard he dashed up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. He hung the towel on the hook on the outside of the bathroom door and turned to leave. Saul’s clothes were lying on the floor in a heap. His suitcase was open and most of the contents had also found their way to the floor. There was a large pistol in the middle of the bed. It looked so incongruous that he was shocked. He didn’t have time to examine it as he heard the water in the shower stop flowing as it was shut off.

  ‘Your towel is hanging on the door,’ he shouted as he left the room.

  ***

  Kleber pushed open the door of the men’s toilet with his elbows and went straight to the basins. To his disgust, there was no soap in the dispensers. He turned on the hot tap with his fingertips and put his hands into the flow of water. Gasping, he withdrew them again. Bloodied water dripped into the sink and swirled down the plug hole. Another man, who came out of one of the cubicles, took one look at the stain in the sink and made a swift exit. Kleber turned on the cold tap as well and inserted his fingers into the stream. The blood was dry and difficult to remove from beneath his fingernails. He retched as he remembered how difficult it was to slit the throat through the fur with the dog wriggling and wagging its tail. At least people had the good grace to scream or faint.

  He waited for the Minister to emerge from the government building where he worked, hanging back until he was spotted. Holger Ponce gesticulated impatiently at him.

  ‘Did you get the report?’

  ‘No sir, I couldn’t see it anywhere. The place is like a rubbish tip. Anyway, I had to leave in a hurry when Dr Vargas arrived.’

  ‘Disturbed. Is that why there’s blood on your sleeve?’

  ‘I had to kill the dog. It wouldn’t stop barking.’

  ‘Did you leave the body where he would find it? We need to scare him off.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So, we still don’t know whether he has the document.’

  ‘No, but…’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘He collected an American visitor from the airport. I saw the name on a piece of paper. It said ‘Saul Rosen, Simon Wiesenthal Centre. Collect at airport’ and it had today’s date.’

  ‘The Simon Wiesenthal Centre? He sounds like a Nazi hunter. He may be trouble. Christ, I must warn Kurt. Thank you, Kleber. Keep an eye on Dr Vargas and his friend.’

  ***

  Saul Rosen looked ten years younger after his shower. He had changed into a pair of corduroy trousers and a checked shirt, and his face was clean shaven, taking years off his age. He didn’t seem sure where to place his limbs when he sat down at the kitchen table. Alfredo had made a big pot of tea and raided the bread bin for some muffins and rolls. A plate of cheese and ham sat in the middle of the table and a bowl of fresh figs from the garden completed the feast.

  ‘Wow. You are quite the caterer,’ said Saul.

  ‘I eat well. I made tea but there’s coffee if you prefer.’

  ‘Tea is fine, thanks. So, where are we with this thing? I need to talk to your friend Ramon as soon as possible.’

  Alfredo blanched. ‘Ramon? Oh, crap! I haven’t told you. Ramon is dead. He died in a fire in his house along with his books and research.’

  ‘Dead? When? How?’

  ‘The police say it was arson. They found two bodies in his house but they haven’t confirmed that one of them was Ramon yet. They are being secretive. Mind you it was a couple of days ago, and they aren’t the quickest.’

  ‘That’s terrible news. I’m so sorry. Do you think it might be related to his research?’

  ‘It must have been. I’m sorry. I should have told you right away. I’ve been upset and distracted. You shouldn’t have come. It could be dangerous to carry on with this.’

  ‘Are you kidding me? This could be the biggest scoop of my career. Your friend did not die in vain. We will chase down those sons of bitches and make them pay.’

  Saul Rosen was standing now, his arm stretched out as if he was shooting at someone. Alfredo was startled at the metamorphosis and thought of the gun lying on the bed. Mild mannered journalist Saul Rosen had an alter-ego hidden under his clothes.

  ‘Okay, you need to calm down. I couldn’t help noticing the gun in your room. You can’t take that with you. The police will put you in prison if they find it.’

  ‘You weren’t supposed to see it. I wasn’t planning on using it. I heard Sierramar is dangerous.’

  Alfredo was not convinced by this explanation but he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. He would broach the subject again on another occasion.

  ‘The one positive in this situation is that Ramon gave me his report to read so it survived the fire,’ he said. ‘I have hidden the report where they won’t ever think of looking and made a copy which I have here if you want to read it.’

  ‘I’m a little tired right now but I’d love to read it later. Can you give me more details on the contents? I want to know what we are up against.’

  ‘More coffee? Or would you prefer a whisky?’

  ‘Have you got a bourbon?’

  ‘Jack Daniels?’

  ‘Perfect. On the rocks, please.’

  ‘Let’s move to the study. The chairs are more comfortable in there.’

  They crossed the hall into the study.

  ‘Can I have the corner chair, please?’ asked Saul. A haunted look flashed across his face and vanished. The leather armchairs were identical but the corner chair was Alfredo’s favourite. He was about to demure but he caught the look on Saul’s face and decided that he didn’t care where he sat. He gestured at it. His guest sat down and the tension flowed out of his body as fast as it had appeared.

  Once they had settled into the leather armchairs, Alfredo gathered himself.

  ‘As a patriot,’ he said, ‘this has been a painful revelation for me. I wasn’t aware that Nazis had penetrated so far into Sierramar society. I was aware that the United States intervened on the side of Peru in the conflict of 1941which had caused a marked antipathy against the allies and sympathy for the Axis countries. However, the details of that era had passed me by. I was always more interested in the Inca and pre-Inca cultures. It has been an immense shock to realise that the government legislated against the Jewish population during the war. They had been arriving since the 18th century to set up businesses in Sierramar. People organised protests against the Jews in Calderon and Guayama.’

  ‘I hadn’t come across this information in my research,’ said Saul. ‘I don’t find it that surprising in the circumstances. It was happening in many countries.’

  ‘But you, of all people, must find this horrifying.’

  ‘Of all people, do you mean as a Jew?’

  ‘Well, yes, I noticed your surname and made an assumption about your origin.’

  ‘No offence taken. I am not a real Jew, only a historical offshoot.’

  Alfredo was not convinced he believed this either but there wasn’t time for discussion of Saul’s genealogy.

  ‘Good, where was I? Oh yes, there is a long history of contact, both cultural and trade related, between Germany and Sierramar. In the run-up to the second world war this relationship became ever more important. Sierramar sent raw materials to Germany and received manufactured goods in return without the need for money. Ramon saw a copy of a letter in the archives
that was sent by Hitler to the government in 1937 offering close cooperation with Sierramar. This arrangement carried on throughout most of the war. In 1945 Sierramar’s government received a request for assistance from the German government for refugees from the Third Reich who were fleeing prosecution by the Allies.’

  ‘Which they agreed to provide?’

  ‘Yes, the German government arranged for a boat to sail from Hamburg with a cargo of fugitive Gestapo and SS officers. This boat docked in Guayama and the passengers were welcomed by the consul and cheering crowds of local people. Many of them were war criminals being hunted by the Allies, including people who had worked at Auschwitz and Buchenwald doing experiments on Jews and other nationalities and murdering them in gas chambers.’

  ‘That’s appalling. I didn’t know the collaboration went that far. No wonder Ramon was murdered. There must be many people in Sierramar who took part in this and are still alive. They have to be desperate to keep this a secret. We need to act fast.’

  ‘I hoped you would take the report back to New York with you and publish it posthumously for Ramon.’

  ‘I’d be delighted, but we can’t stop there. I have the names of several members of the Gestapo who disappeared at the end of the war. I’d been searching for any trace of them for months and then I discovered that they may have been hiding in Sierramar. I guess they came on a boat from Hamburg. We have to find these bastards and get proof of their existence. Will you help me?’

  ‘I will. The pride of Sierramar is at stake.’

  ‘Where do we start?’

  ‘First you need a good night’s sleep.’

  CHAPTER IX

  Sam and Gloria September 1988

  As soon as they got back to the apartment, Gloria searched for the piece of paper with the Klein sisters’ number on it. This was no easy task. She had an address book, which Sam had given to her, but she hadn’t written anything in it. Instead, she had put scraps of paper, with addresses scrawled on them, in between the pages. Sam shook it and all the papers fell out onto the table.

  ‘But why haven’t you copied the addresses into the book?’ said Sam.

  ‘It’s so nice I didn’t want to ruin it by crossing out addresses when people moved,’ said Gloria.

  ‘That explanation makes no sense.’

  ‘It does to me.’

  Sam rolled her eyes.

  By laying the bits of paper out on the table and ironing them one by one, they found the address they were looking for.

  ‘Here it is,’ said Gloria, ‘easy to find.’

  ‘Define easy,’ said Sam, planning on finding an afternoon when Gloria was out to transfer the addresses into the book.

  Gloria shrugged and picked up the telephone to dial the number. It rang several times before anyone answered.

  ‘Good morning. Who’s speaking?’

  ‘Good morning. It’s Gloria, Gloria Sanchez. Is that Heidi?’

  ‘Gloria! Heavens, it’s been a long time since we heard from you.’

  ‘Yes, likewise. I have a friend from Europe staying with me and I thought it would be nice for her to meet you both. Some of her relatives settled here in the 1940’s. Perhaps you have met them?’

  ‘I doubt it. We are busy.’

  Gloria ignored her. ‘Well, in that case we’ll pop in for coffee tomorrow. Does eleven o’clock suit you?’

  ‘Can you make it the next day? We are busy tomorrow.’

  ‘That will be fine. See you then.’

  Gloria picked up the grudging nature of Heidi’s tone but she didn’t care. There were few families powerful or foolish enough to turn down a request from the daughter of Hernan Sanchez.

  ‘They are eccentric,’ said Gloria, ‘so don’t expect a lot of small talk.’

  ‘That’s okay. This situation doesn’t call for much chit-chat,’ replied Sam, subdued after Gloria’s revelation about her aborted pregnancy and, although desperate for her advice about Simon, didn’t want to approach the subject again without upsetting them both. ‘What shall we do today?’

  ‘There is another name on the list that rings a bell,’ said Gloria. ‘The record shows that Henrik Stern came here in 1939. He used to live around here with his wife. They were reclusive and didn’t come out often. He died a few years ago, but his widow stayed in the apartment. I’ll send the maid to the building to see if the guard can confirm they are still living there.’

  Gloria dispatched the maid who returned to report that Gerda Stern still lived in apartment 4B with her two sausage dogs.

  ‘No time like the present,’ said Gloria. ‘Come on Sam, we will drop in for a visit.’

  ‘1939 sounds early for a Nazi fugitive. They are more likely to be fugitives from the Nazis that early in the war.’

  ‘I need to find Alfredo. This lady might be able to help. She’s German and should know the others. What have we got to lose?’

  ‘Not all Germans were Nazis. I suppose it’s worth a try but we should check out her background first.’

  ‘I can’t wait. Alfredo may be in danger. Are you coming?’

  They soon completed the short walk to the Sterns’ apartment building and asked the security guard to buzz them up. He recognised Gloria and did not bother to ask for permission from the maid. Going up in the lift, Sam chewed her nails and wondered what they should say. Gloria was humming and fiddling with her hair. They stood outside the door. Gloria knocked. There was the sound of shuffling feet and the door opened. Inside was a shrunken old lady in clothes that looked far too big for her.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Stern, it’s Gloria Sanchez, and this is Sam Harris. We are doing research about German immigration to Sierramar. Do you mind if we come in?’

  Mrs Stern hesitated. It seemed to Sam that she looked panicked but Gloria did not wait for an answer. She strode into the gloomy apartment and made herself at home in the sitting room.

  ‘I don’t think I can help you,’ quavered Mrs Stern. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We are looking for Sam’s maternal grandmother. She arrived in Sierramar after the end of the war in Europe. She may have been travelling with her brother, a Dr Kurt Becker. A group of Germans came with him by boat to Guayama. I wondered if your husband was one of them?’

  ‘By boat? No, he wasn’t. He had nothing to do with them.’

  ‘But he was German? Didn’t you socialise with them?’

  Mrs Stern had a funny look on her face, a mixture of fury and misery.

  ‘No, we didn’t. It’s time you left now. I have no information for you,’ she blurted out.

  ‘But it seems so unlikely that you didn’t meet any of them.’

  ‘You don’t understand what you are talking about.’

  ‘Gloria, Mrs Stern has already given us her answer.’

  ‘Please, Mrs Stern. We are looking for someone who has disappeared, my fiancé. His disappearance is somehow related to this group of people. Don’t you know anything that might help us?’

  Perhaps it was the doubt in her voice which triggered Mrs Stern’s reaction.

  ‘Get out of my house. Get out. How dare you come here asking questions about my husband? You understand nothing about us.’

  She stood up puce with fury. Gloria had no choice but to leave. Sam tried to apologise. ‘I’m so sorry to have upset you. Gloria’s boyfriend has disappeared on a trip to find them and bring them to justice. She is worried. We didn’t mean to insinuate that your husband could be involved. Please forgive us.’

  But the little woman pointed to the door without saying anything. The two friends took the elevator down to the ground floor without speaking.

  ‘That was awful,’ said Gloria. ‘Why was she so angry?’

  Sam didn’t answer. She had not been in favour of visiting Mrs Stern with no background information and she was cross with Gloria for barging in to see her. There was only one reason for the Sterns to avoid other Germans.

  ‘T
hat’s why I didn’t want to go. The date of their arrival suggests that they were Jewish refugees. No wonder Mrs Stern was hysterical. We should never have gone to see her without checking,’ said Sam.

  They walked back to the apartment and had a subdued lunch. Gloria was quiet. Sam ignored her, punishing her for the misery of Mrs Stern which hung over them like a dark mist.

  CHAPTER X

  Alfredo and Saul August 1988

  The two men breakfasted early.

  ‘I’m confident,’ said Alfredo, munching on his toast, ‘that none of the passengers who landed on the boat from Germany will have been using their real names. Have you any information about the new identities they were using?’

  ‘I discovered that one officer had changed his name to Rolf Hermann.’

  ‘Rolf Hermann? Wow! I was at school with his sons. We used to play football at their hacienda.’

  Saul shook his head and sighed. ‘Hidden in plain sight. I guess that no one here cared who they were. The war was far away from Sierramar. Are they still living there?’

  ‘They make cheese and have done for many years. We had some of it yesterday for supper. Hermann may not be running it but the family still own the farm.’

  ‘Is it far away?’

  ‘About an hour’s drive. We can go there today if you like. We need a convincing story if we’re asking questions about his past.’

  ‘Say I'm a tourist looking for some lost cousins.’

  ‘We must change your name.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a given. How about Frank Hermann?’

  ‘No, it must be the original surname to make sense. What was it?’

  ‘Kaufmann. His name was Helmut Kaufmann. He was a lieutenant in the Gestapo.’

  ‘Perfect. Frank Kaufmann it is then. Okay, so get sorted out and we’ll set off in about ten minutes. Bring your camera. You need to look as if you are a gringo tourist.’