by P J Skinner
***
The road to the hacienda was the typical mix of potholes and cobblestones, throwing the two men from side to side in the ancient jeep. They drove past damp hillsides with a myriad of tiny fields in many shades of green as if verdant quilts had been laid over sleeping giants. Scruffy black pigs with ears that flopped over their eyes snuffled in the mud beside the road giving them the appearance of shy teenagers hiding behind their fringes. In the fields, sheep with long coats bleated as the car passed by, hoping for some feed. The air was so moist that drops of condensation hung from their coats.
‘Wow, that’s pretty countryside you’ve got there,’ said Saul. ‘Reminds me of Ireland.’
Alfredo had underestimated the distance and the state of the road and they didn’t pull up to the farmhouse until midday. The cobbled farmyard was deserted except for two large Alsatian dogs who growled and crouched for attack when Alfredo tried to get out of the car.
‘Hmm, this is tricky,’ he said.
‘Someone will come and rescue us. It’s lunchtime.’
They sat in the car for almost an hour. When either of them attempted to get out, one of the large dogs would throw themselves at the door barking and snarling. They would have left but Saul spotted a curtain twitching in one of the windows.
‘There’s someone in there,’ he said. ‘Let’s wait them out.’
The front door opened and an old woman appeared. She clapped her hands together causing the dogs to slink off behind the farmhouse. The two men got down from the jeep and walked over to the door.
‘Good morning, madam, we are looking for Rolf Hermann. Is this the right place?’
‘Oh, it’s the right place but you are too late. Rolf died two years ago, of a heart attack.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences.’
‘He was a pig. Why did you want him?’
‘My name is Frank Kaufmann. I thought he might be a relative of mine.’
‘And what made you think that?’
‘My mother told me he was her husband’s cousin.’
‘She was mistaken. My husband didn’t have cousins. His father was an only child.’
She wanted them to leave. It was written all over her face.
‘Was your husband’s nickname Freddy?’
Her demeanour, previously sour and dismissive, changed as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. A shy smile crept across her face.
‘Yes, that was him. Before he turned into a pig.’ She looked sad.
‘I would love to see a photograph if you have one,’ said Saul in a quiet voice.
She peered at him through eyes misty with age.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t answer the door earlier. I live alone and I don’t open the door to strangers. I have photographs of him as a young man. Would you like to see the album?’
They followed the old woman into a house that would have been more at home in Bavaria. Wooden floors and net curtains and solid German furniture filled the rooms.
‘Can I offer you gentlemen a tea?’
‘That would be nice. Thank you.’
She showed them into the sitting room and disappeared into a kitchen behind the stairs. There was a fireplace with a couple of sofas facing each other across a solid wooden coffee table. The two men sat down on one of them and waited for her to return. Both men glanced around the room for clues to the origins of the family but there were no framed photographs. It was sterile.
Mrs Hermann came in with a tray holding cups of hot water and a plate of tea bags. Alfredo took one and watched in dismay as the tea bag floated without brewing.
‘Now, Mr Kaufmann, what can I tell you about your cousin?’ she asked.
‘Well, I understand that he came to Sierramar at the end of the war. Did he come alone?’
‘He came with five other officers from his regiment. They were young men who wanted to start a new life after the horrors of the war. A steamer brought them with about fifty other families to Guayama from where most of them moved up to Calderon.’
‘Do you have a photograph of him at that age? I want to see if he resembles me.’
Mrs Hermann avoided his eyes but she got up and took a leather-bound album out of a bookcase which she held tightly but did not offer it to Saul.
‘You must understand,’ she said, ‘that they were different times. These men had lost the war, but they’d not lost hope of a revival of the Reich. They were determined to maintain our traditions.’
Saul nodded and stretched out his hands to take the album.
‘I understand. My mother has not lost hope that one day Germany will be great again. I was brought up to believe too. I don’t find it shocking.’
She handed it to him. He opened the cover and a photograph of a handsome young man in a Gestapo uniform slipped onto the floor. He picked it up, put it back in its binding and turned the pages. Alfredo looked over his shoulder controlling his breathing and pretending to have little interest. There was a photograph of six young men in Gestapo uniform posing outside a wooden building with a tin roof.
‘Wow, so which one is Rolf?’
She pointed at a slim young man smoking a cigarette.
‘And who are the others? Is this the group that came to Sierramar? Are any of them still alive?’
His excitement showed, and she looked at him suspiciously.
‘I mean, they could tell me more about Freddy.’
‘Let me see the photo. As far as I remember the fat one was Franz Rauf. He died young of a heart attack. The two men beside him are the Schmidt brothers. The man on the right-hand side of Frank is Kurt Becker and the one on the left, I am not sure, but I think he died last year of a stroke.’
‘I was in the same school as the Schmidt brothers’ children,’ said Alfredo. ‘They were nice lads, good at football. They left in sixth grade. I didn’t see them again.’
Mrs Hermann ignored him.
‘What happened to the Schmidt brothers and Kurt Becker? Are they still in Sierramar?’ asked Saul.
‘I believe Dr Becker retired to the mountains for his health. He was running a clinic somewhere in San Blas de Lago Verde. I don’t know where the Schmidt brothers are. They upped and left without a word. They may have left Sierramar.’
Saul leafed his way through the album.
‘That’s a nice photo. Was that taken when you arrived in Calderon?’
‘Yes, we had just arrived here. That’s us in the cow shed.’
‘How did you meet your husband?’
‘We met at a rally in Berlin. He was so handsome in his uniform. I couldn’t resist him.’
The photographs showed Rolf Kaufmann getting middle aged and then elderly, a nasty scowl becoming a permanent fixture on his face. Evil radiated from him.
The door to the sitting room opened and a young man stepped through into the light. Alfredo glanced backwards at him and did a double take. It was the boy from the library. What was his name? Kleber something? He could feel his gaze boring into the back of his head. He put his hat back on and tugged Saul’s sleeve to signal that they should leave.
‘Well, we had better go Mrs Hermann. It’s been a real pleasure to meet you and to hear about Rolf,’ said Saul, who had taken the hint.
‘You’re leaving already? I hoped you might stay for supper.’
‘We need to get back to town before it gets dark. The lights on the jeep are not working.’
‘Okay well, Kleber, can you see the gentlemen out, please?’
‘Yes, madam. Will you follow me?’
Saul and Alfredo shook Mrs Hermann’s hand. Alfredo removed his hat and replaced it in one swift movement. He walked behind Saul trying to keep him between himself and Kleber. They got to the front door and hurried towards the car. A sudden gust of wind blew Alfredo’s hat clean off. He dashed across the yard, standing on it to stop it blowing away. As he stood up, he caught Kleber’s eye.
‘Dr Vargas?’
said Kleber, ‘what are you doing here?’
‘Kleber? I could ask you the same question. I’m following up my research on German culture with my friend Frank Kaufmann. He is a cousin of Mrs Hermann’s late husband.’
Kleber had a look on his face that suggested a violent disgust. He was staring at Saul.
‘You are lying. There were no Jews in Mr Hermann’s family. You should be ashamed of yourself taking advantage of an old woman. Now get out of here and take your nasty friend with you,’ he said.
He whistled, and the dogs came running from the back of the house, barking and snarling. They went straight for the visitors, who ran to the safety of the car. They made it unscathed. The dogs were jumping up at the doors, scratching the paint. Kleber shouted from the door.
‘Stay away from here and stop interfering in things you don’t understand. I’m giving you fair warning. Stop looking or end up with your friend Ramon.’
He spun on his heel and went back into the house. There was no sign of Mrs Hermann who had melted back into the shadows. The two men sat panting in the car.
‘These people are psychos,’ said Alfredo.
‘Who is he?’ said Saul.
‘He works in the National Archives. He must be the one who followed me to Ramon’s place. I thought I recognised him in my house the other day. Look what he did to the dog. He’s a dangerous man.’
‘How did he know I was Jewish?’
‘Because you stick out like a sore thumb. I guess Mrs Hermann must be lonely and blind to be fooled by us. We should get out of here.’
They pulled out of the yard with the dogs still barking and throwing themselves against the doors.
***
Lunch was waiting for them when they got home. The maid had left a cold chicken and some salad and fresh bread out on the table covered in some clean drying up towels. Alfredo took cold beers out of the fridge and poured a glass for them both.
‘That looks delicious,’ said Saul. ‘I could eat a horse.’
‘Half a chicken will have to do instead.’
‘Let’s start with that, then. Sorry for sleeping on the way home. I guess you must be bursting to discuss old mother Hermann and her scary helper.’
‘That’s okay. Travelling always makes me weary, too. It was rather a strange morning. I can’t believe we got such great information from Mrs Hermann. That Kleber person’s someone to stay well clear of. He’s obviously a psychopath, setting the dogs on us for no reason. I’m convinced he’s the man we saw running away from here yesterday.’
‘What do you want to do next?’
‘We should travel to San Blas del Lago to find Dr Becker. The Schmidt brothers may be there too if they haven’t left the country. Have you got walking shoes and some wet weather gear with you?’
‘Yes, I came prepared for a hike or two.’
‘Excellent. I’ve got to go out for an hour. Can you get ready meanwhile?’
***
Alfredo went straight to Gloria’s apartment building and rang her bell. The maid answered.
‘Good morning. Who’s there?’
‘Hello, it’s Dr Vargas. Is Miss Gloria in?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry Dr Vargas, she has gone shopping to the mall and I think she is having lunch with a friend. She didn’t say what time she would be back.’
‘Oh, well, please can you tell her I’m going on a trip to the mountains with my colleague from America and that we should be back in a few days?’
‘Yes, Dr Vargas. I’ll tell her. Do you want to leave her a note?’
‘No need, I shouldn’t be gone long. Thank you.’
Alfredo stood outside for a while wondering if he should tell her where they were going but he left without writing a note. He worried that the mission was getting a little more dangerous than he had anticipated and he didn’t want her getting hurt. He would never get back in her father’s good books if he put Gloria in danger. He forced himself to go home and pack.
CHAPTER XI
Sam and Gloria, September 1988
The Klein sisters, Heidi and Liesel, still lived in the family home with their mother, who was bedridden with multiple sclerosis. It was built in the style of a German country house and set back from the road down a mud driveway lined with eucalyptus trees. The outskirts of Calderon would swallow it up in its dingy concrete and zinc petticoat but meanwhile it still had a rural charm and a chocolate box prettiness which was alien to the Andean landscape. Sam held on to the handle over the door to prevent herself being thrown around in the front of the jeep as Gloria tried to negate the huge dusty potholes by driving over them at high speed.
The car stopped in a cloud of powder which settled on the bonnet. Sam almost fell out of the car with relief. Gloria shook herself clean and raised the eagle’s head door knocker on the front door, letting it fall twice. Sam felt nervous. She was not a good actress and a worse liar. Gloria should do most of the talking.
The door opened with a loud theatrical creak and a young woman with bright blonde hair stood in the sunlight.
‘Gloria, how nice of you to pay us a visit. And this must be your friend?’
‘Yes, hello, I’m Sam, which one are you?’ she blurted out.
‘I’m Liesel, and my sister Heidi is inside. Won’t you come in?’
Gloria was already pushing past her into the hall and making her way to the sitting room in a way that suggested that this was not her first visit to the house. Sam smiled and followed them into a cold room with wooden furniture which would have looked more at home in a monastery. They had sat down when Heidi came in with a tray of coffee and a mild chaos reigned as the women got up and sat down again several times to greet the other and to serve the coffee and add milk and sugar. At last, they settled down with their coffee served.
‘It’s been a long-time, Gloria,’ said Heidi.
‘Yes, it has. Where does the time go?’
‘You look wonderful.’
‘Thank you. I try. You girls both look just the way you did at school, down to your beautiful blonde hair.’
Sam thought she detected a slight stiffening of the woman’s back at this pointed compliment. An uncomfortable silence.
‘Don’t tease her, Gloria, you know about our hair already. It got to be such a habit. I can’t imagine going back to being brunette again. Well, the truth is I started so young I don’t remember ever having brown hair. It’s our trademark.’
Her sister nodded in assent, mollified.
‘I remember now. Your father wanted you to have blond hair. Where is he? I haven’t seen him for years.’
The two sisters glanced at each other. Sam had the distinct impression they deciding which story to tell. Heidi replied.
‘He went to live in Argentina years ago. We don’t know where he is now.’
‘I thought he was still around. I wanted to ask him if he could help me look for Sam’s relatives.’
‘Why come to us? Isn’t Sam English?’
‘Yes, but her great aunt was German.’
‘What was her surname?’
‘Becker,’ said Sam. ‘She left Germany after the war and there are rumours she travelled to Sierramar.’
‘Becker?’ asked Liesel.
‘Yes, she may have travelled with her brother. He was a doctor, I believe.’
Liesel’s cup slid off her lap and crashed to the floor. The thin rug cushioned the fall but coffee flooded across it. She bent down to the floor, bright red in the face trying to pick up the crockery and wipe at the coffee with a paper napkin at the same time. Her sister glared at her.
‘Talking of fathers, how is yours, Gloria?’ asked Heidi. ‘I was sorry to hear your mother died. That must have been hard for him.’
Smooth. She impressed Sam with the apparent transparency of the question. She was convinced that Heidi intended to change the subject without appearing to do so, thus avoiding answering the question. The conversation changed to that
of old school friends trying to remember tyrannical teachers and the name of that dishy boy in upper sixth but Gloria’s question remained unanswered. Liesel was still a funny colour and despite going out to the kitchen for fresh coffee, still looked shaken. Dropping a cup couldn’t have affected her that much.
Sam took a risk.
‘Um, can I use your bathroom, please?’
‘It’s straight up the stairs in the corridor. First door on the left.’
Sam headed up the steps and tried a couple of doors. One opened into a bedroom with the smell of hospital. An old woman was sleeping slumped in a wheelchair by the window. Sam glanced around the room. Spotting some photographs on a chest of drawers, she crept over to look at them. One was of a slim older man who resembled Liesel. He was dressed in tweed. In another he stood with several other Germanic looking men outside a pub or hotel called Lago Verde. They were doing a Nazi salute. She felt her blood run cold. The old woman sighed. Sam jumped, and she backed out of the room bumping into Heidi who was coming in.
‘What are you doing in here?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I heard moaning, and I wanted to see if I could help.’
‘There is nothing you can do here. Please leave.’
‘I should mind my own business. Sorry.’
She slid along the passage to the bathroom where she threw water on her face. That was close! Had Heidi seen her looking at the photograph? She composed herself and came back down the stairs finding the three women in the hall.
‘Are you ready? We’re going now,’ said Gloria.
‘Yes, I’m ready. Thank you for the coffee, ladies.’
‘Liesel will see you out. Goodbye.’
As they were getting into the car, Gloria pulled Liesel aside.
‘I can tell that you are hiding something,’ she hissed. ‘My fiancé, Alfredo, is missing and your father may be involved. I am worried about him. If you think of anything that might help, can you please call us?’
Before she could answer, there was a shout from the house.
‘Hurry up, Liesel, our mother needs her lunch.’ Heidi’s voice had a nasty edge.
Liesel ran back to the house without answering.
