by P J Skinner
‘Let’s go, for God’s sake,’ Sam muttered as she got into the car.
‘I hear you. Put some nice music on. I need some rock-and-roll to drive to after that little meeting. Aren’t they sinister?’
‘I felt as if I were talking to Barbie and Cindy. They didn’t tell us the whole truth about their father though.’
‘Definitely not. What were you doing upstairs?’
‘I saw a photo of their father in his wife’s room. It was shocking. He was doing a Nazi salute with his friends.’
‘Jesus, Sam, you could’ve got caught.’
‘I sort of was. Heidi came in as I was leaving the room. I made up some excuse about hearing a moan.’
‘Did she believe you? That was risky.’
‘It was, but I want to help Alfredo and I’m confident they hold the key.’
‘Well, it’s too late now, anyway. Was it an old photograph?’
‘No. They had grey hair. I’d say they were in their late sixties.’
‘So recent? Huh. But where was the photograph taken?’
‘They were standing outside the Hotel Lago Verde.’
‘I’ve been to Lago Verde. There is a German tourist village up there, San Blas, where they make cheese and beer. They must have been on a day trip. I can’t imagine they are plotting a coup with Hansel and Gretel. I don’t think that helps us much.’
‘Let’s go home.’
***
‘What are we going to do? How did Gloria know about our father? He left so long ago, I thought people had forgotten about him,’ said Liesel.
‘He’s safe where he is. No one has any idea that he’s still in the county. It’s a coincidence,’ said Heidi.
‘What if they find him?’
‘There are people protecting him. Don’t worry. Tell the maid to make some lunch.’
‘I wish he and his friends would forget about Hitler and the wonderful Third Reich.’
‘Don’t you dare say that! Don’t you ever say that again. You don’t understand what you’re talking about.’
‘You’re the one who’s delusional. I want to live in 1990 not 1940. The war is over. I don’t want to live like Nazis anymore.’
‘It’s hard for you, but you will be glad we did when the next Reich comes. Run along now. I’ve got a call to make.’
Liesel stomped off to the kitchen, slamming the door behind her, but she stayed there with her ear against it.
Heidi picked up the receiver in the hallway and dialled a number in Calderon. The phone was answered on the first ring.
‘Hello, Holger Ponce here.’
‘Minister, it’s me, Heidi Klein.’
‘Well, hello there, Heidi. How’s the prettiest woman in Calderon?’
‘Well, thank you. And you?’
‘Oh, can’t grumble. What can I do for you?’
‘I think we have a problem. Hernan Sanchez’ daughter Gloria has been here today asking questions about our father. It turns out that she has been going out with Dr Vargas and has noticed his disappearance. Her friend was nosing around upstairs and I think she may have seen a photograph Papa took with his friends in Lago Verde.’
‘Oh, that’s unfortunate. I’d hate for something to happen to Miss Sanchez. Hernan would not be happy.’
‘Will you speak to him? Someone must dissuade her from looking for Dr Vargas at all cost.’
‘Yes, I’ll speak to him. Don’t worry. He’s old school. It’s not in his interest to lose good contacts over a slight inconvenience.’
‘Okay, I’ll leave it with you. It’s vital that Gloria gives up the search for Dr Vargas. The timing is critical. We are so close.’
‘I fear that we must do something about him, and our Jewish friend, too. I hoped we could release them later but they are a liability.’
‘Make it appear like an accident.’
‘I’ll inform you when it’s done.’
‘Thank you, Minister. I’ll leave it in your hands.’
She replaced the receiver and opened the door into the kitchen. Liesel was standing on the other side looking in a cupboard.
‘You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations,’ she said and stalked past her sister into the kitchen.
***
Sam and Gloria were eating a supper of leftovers in the kitchen when the phone rang. Gloria picked it up chewing hard so that she could swallow her mouthful of cold chicken.
‘Can we meet?’ said a voice.
Gloria stopped chewing.
‘Yes, where and when?’
‘I’ll be at the German market in the valley tomorrow with my sister. Can you be at the Austrian Café at midday?’
‘What about your sister?’
‘Oh, she’s meeting a boyfriend. I’ve an hour or so before she comes to find me.’
‘Okay, we’ll be there.’
The phone went dead.
‘Wrong number?’ asked Sam when Gloria reappeared.
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Gloria, ‘It was Liesel Klein.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She wants to meet us tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? What about her sister?’
‘She will be alone at midday. We are meeting her at the German market.’
‘Isn’t that risky?’
‘We won’t stay long. It can’t be safe for her either.’
***
The next morning, they drove down the winding roads to the same valley that Ramon had lived in.
‘Remind me to pass by the local police station on our way back. I want to ask Inspector Torres about the fire at Ramon’s house. As far as I’m aware, they still haven’t identified the bodies and the cause of the fire.’
‘Will do,’ said Sam.
The fair was packed with the foreign population of Calderon who liked to shop for European style cold cuts and cheeses made by the immigrants. One of the most popular places was the Austrian coffee shop which sold huge slices of Black Forest Gateau topped with fresh whipped cream. There was no stopping Sam once she had seen it in the window. She had to have some. It reminded her of the time she went to Munich with Simon and they had some in their hotel room. The whipped cream did not stay on the cake long. She sighed. Gloria sipped her double espresso. They settled into a window seat and watched the world go by as they waited for their order. The waitress, who was dressed like a French maid in a porn movie, plonked the tray down on their table splashing some of Sam’s tea into her saucer. Gloria glared at her with an intensity that almost melted her frilly top.
‘Sorry, madam,’ she said.
‘I should think so, too,’ muttered Gloria.
Sam was about to dig into her enormous piece of cake when she spotted Liesel Klein coming into the café. She readied herself to greet her when she realised that she was being shadowed by her sister Heidi. The two women swept up to the counter and ordered. Sam kicked Gloria’s leg under the table and pursed her lips in their direction.
‘Why are you kicking me?’
‘Heidi Klein at twelve o’clock.’
‘Don’t be silly. It’s Liesel who is coming.’
‘No, Heidi, behind you. At the counter.’
Sam tried to hide behind her cake as the Klein sisters turned around to look for a table. They had been spotted. A furious expression flashed across Heidi’s face immediately replaced by a big public smile of recognition.
‘Gloria! Sam! What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, Sam was desperate to try the Black Forest Gateau. She loves cherries.’
‘I can see that. Can we join you? I am meeting someone in about fifteen minutes.’
‘That’d be lovely.’
There followed the usual pantomime of moving seats from other tables over the heads of other patrons of the café and much shuffling of chairs. Heidi seemed convinced by Sam’s noisy enjoyment of the gateau which was real. She refused to taste it on the grounds th
at she might have to have a slice if she did. Liesel was sitting on the edge of her seat looking out through the window to prevent her having to speak. Gloria took it in her stride, smoking with an intensity that suggested it was her first of the day but Sam could testify that it was not. After what seemed an age, Heidi rose to her feet and set off to see her friend with Liesel in tow.
‘Bye, see you soon.’
‘Bye,’ Sam said, waving. ‘God, I thought they had rumbled us there.’
‘Just a coincidence. Calm down.’
‘What about Liesel? Will she come back?’
‘I don’t know. We should wait about half an hour but after that it looks suspicious.’
They stayed twenty minutes and then felt too uncomfortable blocking the table when other clients were waiting for it. They came outside into the bleaching sun and squinted into the crowd. Liesel Klein appeared, pink faced, running towards them. She shoved a piece of paper into Sam’s hand and turned to run back the way she had come.
‘What does it say?’ asked Gloria.
‘San Blas del Lago Verde.’
***
‘Maybe she felt guilty.’
‘At least it confirms what you saw in the photograph. San Blas is a hotbed of intrigue.’
‘What should we do next?’
‘The police station. We need to find out about the fire.’
‘Well done, at least one of us has a few memory cells working. Let’s go.’
They drove up to the station when it was opening for the afternoon shift. Gloria parked in a random officer’s parking space and strode into the office in her cowboy boots.
‘Hello. My name is Gloria Sanchez. I’ve come for information about the fire last week.’
Gloria was formidable in full flow and the policeman behind the desk was not in the mood, after his large lunch, to get into a fight that might spoil his siesta.
‘Yes, madam, please follow me.’
He directed them into the shabby den of the station chief, Inspector Torres, who jumped to his feet as they entered.
‘Inspector Torres, what a pleasure to see you again.’
‘And you, Miss Sanchez. How can I help you?’
‘I was wondering if you had any further information about the fire and who started it?’
‘It was definitely arson but we don’t have a motive and there were no clues that we could follow. Mr Vega did not appear to have any obvious enemies and although we are investigating a lead, we are not at liberty to give you any information right now.’
‘I understand. Can you confirm that the body was that of Ramon Vega?’
Here, the policeman shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable.
‘I’m afraid we can’t. There has been a complication. It’s delicate.’
Gloria understood. He must have found clues which led him to someone important. Cases like these almost always got covered up or the policemen investigating could disappear, too. She didn’t push it. Sam squirmed but Gloria shook her head and mouthed ‘No’.
‘I understand, Inspector.’
The man relaxed. Gloria could feel Sam bristle with fury beside her.
‘Well, you’ve my number. Please ring me if you’ve any further information about this case.’
‘Thank you, madam. I am at your service.’
‘Okay, let’s go. Now.’
She had to get Sam out of there before she stuck her large gringa feet into the problem.
Once outside, Sam spat out a question.
‘What the hell was that about? Anyone could see he was lying.’
‘Yes, and if you had a government minister threatening you with violence or worse, you’d probably lie, too.’
‘Oh. I see. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry. You don’t understand how we do things around here. Trust me. If he can, he will tell me.’
‘Okay, so where’s San Blas del Lago?’
‘It’s a couple of day’s drive from Calderon, up in the mountains. We need a map.’
‘A map might help but there is something even better. Do they sell aerial photographs here? If the Nazis are hiding up there, they must have a concealed compound or something similar. We may spot it on an aerial photograph.’
‘Aerial photographs? I think Mike bought some when we were looking for good alluvial deposits from the air, but there was a lot of red tape and we don’t have time. I suggest a visit to see our friend the Colonel in the Geographical Institute. We need short skirts and lots of sauce.’
‘Sauce?’
‘Honestly, Sam, anyone would think you hadn’t hit puberty yet. S.A.U.C.E. Hot sauce.’
‘Oh, that kind of sauce.’
‘Come on, we need to buy you a tight dress.’
CHAPTER XII
Alfredo and Saul August 1988
By the time that Alfredo got back to his house, Saul had packed his bag and was raring to go. Alfredo threw some things in a rucksack including his trusty explorer’s hat and ancient walking boots. He searched for his SLR camera until he removed his coat from the stand in the hall and found it hanging underneath tangled up with a pair of battered binoculars which he also put in his bag. There were several unused films in the fridge keeping fresh behind the jar of ancient olives. He put one of them straight into the back of the camera and stuffed the others in the front pocket of the rucksack. Just before they left, he dashed into the toilet and removed a new packet of toilet paper from the cupboard.
‘Don’t they have toilet paper in San Blas?’ said Saul.
‘I take no chances when it comes to my ablutions,’ said Alfredo.
They locked the house and drove to the gas station where they filled the car with fuel and bought supplies of clean water and snack food. They also bought a bottle of whisky to keep Alfredo’s blood alcohol up at normal levels.
‘Have we got a map of the area?’ asked Saul.
‘The roads up to San Blas are not on any map yet. It was only built twenty years ago and the survey of Sierramar was completed in the 1940’s.’
‘So how are we going to find it?’
‘By asking the locals and aiming the car at the volcano behind the Lago Verde.’
‘That sounds scientific.’
‘Yes, it is a bit haphazard, but that’s how we do things around here. We’ll get there. You’ll see.’
They set off on the southern road out of town through the tumbledown, colonial cottages on the outskirts and into the countryside. The roads were lined with dry eucalyptus trees and sisal plants, some of which had been stripped of their leaves whose fibres were hanging out to dry on the wire fencing.
‘This is so exciting,’ said Saul, ‘I haven’t ever been involved in the chase before. I do the research and other people get to hunt the Nazis.’
‘I’ve no idea if we will find anything to chase or not,’ said Alfredo, ‘but it is exciting.’
‘It may also be risky. I’m not paying you enough to risk getting hurt or even killed on this trip. I never asked you why you're doing this.’
‘I want to avenge my friend Ramon. We fought a few years ago because I was drunk and insulted him in front of our friends. It was my fault. I made peace with him before he died. He deserved better. And what are you doing here Saul? I thought you were not really Jewish. I find it odd that you’d risk your life to hunt some random Germans in Sierramar. Is there anything you haven’t told me?’
Saul avoided Alfredo’s glance and stared out of the window. His jaw muscles tightened.
‘Can we talk about that tonight? I need some Dutch courage.’
‘I understand more than you can imagine.’
The rest of the day passed almost without incident. A puncture held them up for about half an hour but there were little sheds littering the sides of the roads where it was possible to get it repaired for a couple of dollars. They impressed Saul who gave them a big tip.
‘Hey, that’s kind of cheap and they are s
o fast. I don’t think we have anything like this in the States.’
‘You probably have better roads where punctures are a lot rarer.’
‘Well, that’s true I s’pose.’
After driving for most of the day the two men were addled by the bumping and shaking and they stopped for the night in an inn off the main road chosen by Alfredo for its good home cooking and flea-free beds. They ate a substantial supper of goat stew and rice and then they sat beside a fire in the bar digesting their meal with a glass of whisky. Alfredo turned to Saul who was fiddling with his glass. ‘It’s time for you to reveal your motives for coming on this trip. I want to understand what we're getting into.’
‘Fair enough. I wouldn’t blame you if you change your mind after what I’m about to tell you.’
‘Okay, so why don’t you start at the very beginning?’
Both men chorused ‘it’s a very good place to start’ and then smiled. The reference to the Sound of Music was ironic but not that out of place.
‘So, as you’ve noticed, I’m a Jew. I was born in Brussels and lived there as a boy with my parents and my sister. My family had money, and we lived a comfortable life. We had lots of Jewish friends in our district. The war seemed far away from us when it started in Poland. Belgium had declared neutrality in the conflict but this didn’t stop the Germans from invading. In 1940, they crossed our borders and eighteen days later the fight was over.’
‘How awful.’
‘When the Germans invaded Belgium, we were trapped. From then on, Belgium was run by a German military government who levied the costs of the military occupation on the Belgians through taxes, nearly two-thirds of its national income. For a while, life went on almost as normal but they enacted anti-Jewish legislation in October 1940, and several pogroms took place. Many people collaborated with the Germans and helped them round up the Jews. People avoided us and whispered behind our backs. Some other Jewish families had left for America and Britain but my father wouldn’t go because the whole family fortune was tied up in Brussels. Then it got worse. The Germans seized economic assets belonging to Jews and threw us out of our home. They ordered us to report to the Mechelen transit camp. My father persuaded our neighbours to live in our house and hide me and my sister in the attic. He and my mother hid somewhere else and used to visit us when they could. One day they disappeared and were never seen again’
