by P J Skinner
Saul stood up and Alfredo grabbed his arm and frogmarched him out of the restaurant as if forcing a drunk friend to go to bed. He smiled at the two men and raised his eyebrows in mock distress. There was no reaction.
They started up the stairs, Saul tripping in his reluctance to abandon the scene. Alfredo kept a firm grip on him and pushed him onwards. ‘Goodnight,’ he said to Schmidt. ‘Can you put the meal on our bill, please?’
***
‘I knew that bastard Ramon Vega was trouble,’ said Kurt Becker when Alfredo and Saul had left the restaurant and gone to their rooms.
‘I thought we’d snuffed him out. Didn’t Ponce say that Vega was working on his own? You should never trust a politician,’ said Boris Klein.
‘I’m confident Vega didn’t collaborate with anyone on his report. He was working on his own for months. Kleber Perez saw this Dr Vargas fellow poking around in the archives asking for information about German settlers and became suspicious.’
‘Kleber who?’
‘Perez. The lad who works for us at the archives. He comes from Rolf Hermann’s farm.’
‘Oh yes, that boy. Is he the one who told us that a Jew had visited Mrs Hermann with Dr Vargas?’
‘The same. He claims that he followed Dr Vargas to Ramon Vega’s house after Dr Vargas found the address in the archives. Kleber told us that he suspects that Vargas was given the final report by Ramon Vega before the house burned down. He even tried to search for it in Dr Vargas’ house but he was thwarted when Vargas returned from the airport with the Jew sooner than expected.’
‘How come we didn’t know about these jokers? The Jew and Dr Vargas. Where did they spring from and who the fuck are they, anyway?’
‘The Jew is a journalist from New York. My sources tell me that he is a survivor from the pogrom in Brussels. He’s a minor celebrity. He was on that transport that got held up by the resistance.’
‘The one that got away. He may be dangerous. Revenge is a powerful motive. I wonder if he had family on that train. How about the doctor?’
‘Dr Alfredo Vargas is an expert on the Inca and Valdivia cultures. He is rumoured to be a lush. Ponce tells me that Vargas has lost the respect of some of his colleagues because of some of his drunken escapades. We don’t understand what his connection with Vega is. They may have studied together or been childhood friends.’
‘A Jew and a drunk? Well, we may be old but we can deal with this little inconvenience without too much trouble.’
‘That’s what I said. Anyway, the Jew is about the same age as the Führer when he died so that may prove to be ideal for our purposes.’
‘Huh, I never thought of that. You may be right. Well, I must get on if we are to deal with this tomorrow. Do you want a lift home?’
***
The next morning, Alfredo and Saul breakfasted on eggs and black bread before setting out to tour the sites. There was not much point pretending to be tourists anymore but they decided to carry on with the charade. As Alfredo pointed out, it was too much of a coincidence that Becker and Klein had turned up to eat the same evening that they were there. He was positive that Schmidt had alerted them after he had seen Saul’s passport. Jewish journalists were not a dime a dozen in German theme villages, especially a village hidden in the mountains of Sierramar. If there was a conspiracy, Fritz Schmidt had to be part of it. They told him that they would be back for dinner and would check out the next morning.
Alfredo went up to his room and tried to ring Gloria. He dialled several times but there was no connection. He went back downstairs.
‘Mr Schmidt, I need to speak to someone but I cannot get through to Calderon. Can you help me?
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Dr Vargas. The telephones are not working. I think that the line may be down. It’s quite windy in the valley.’
Alfredo had seen Schmidt on the telephone when they came out of the dining room after breakfast but it was more evidence that something untoward was going on. He decided to contact her from Lago Verde when they got there.
They left on foot and worked their way through the town, criss-crossing the main street as they looked for evidence of the hidden community. It was not easy to look for something that was on display already. They did not see any evidence of swastikas, heel clicking or pencil moustaches but the whole village reeked of German culture and history and they did not find a single native local working or living in the village. Eating lunch in a local bar they were surrounded by barmaids dressed in white blouses singing songs about beer and carrying on.
‘It’s like Disneyland on drugs,’ said Alfredo in wonder.
‘More like Springtime for Hitler,’ said Saul, shaken by the overload of Germanic bonhomie. ‘I’m not sure what I expected to find, but this isn’t it. What we do next?’
‘Search me, I’m Germanated right now. However, cheese making and bad singing are not illegal in Sierramar as far as I am aware so we can’t take matters into our own hands yet. I’ve a feeling that things may get nasty around here so we’d better make ourselves scarce. Let’s go back to the hotel.’
‘It’s not like we haven’t spotted any Nazis. They almost had dinner with us last night but how can we confirm their identities? We can’t go up to them and ask them who they are.’
‘That’s not a bad idea.’
‘What? Asking them to incriminate themselves? I don’t think that’s likely.’
‘No, but Schmidt knows who they are. Why don’t we ask him?’
CHAPTER XVI
Sam and Gloria, September 1988
Gloria fielded a phone call from Mr Chiriboga at the Geographical Institute who informed her that the aerial photographs were ready for collection.
‘Sam, hurry up, we’re going to pick up the photos of San Blas.’
‘Okay, just putting my shoes on. How are we going to search for clues using the photographs? We need a special viewer to see them in three dimensions.’
‘Ah, I already thought of that. I’ve a friend who works in the seismic monitoring centre. They’ve every kind of equipment and he has a crush on me so the combination is promising.’
Sam was not surprised to hear that Gloria had another admirer. She was the sort of woman that men lost their heads over, being as beautiful as Venus, as rich as Croesus and ultra-high maintenance.
‘Sounds perfect. I’m ready. Let’s go, then.’
They drove to the Geographical Mapping institute and parked outside, walking up the hill to the atrium, and through to the aerial photograph department. Mr Chiriboga had already put the photographs in a big brown envelope for them.
‘Has the Seismic Monitoring Centre got the correct viewers for seeing these in three dimensions?’
‘Yes, I believe they do. There will be someone up there who can help you. Good luck, ladies.’
The Centre was situated on the flanks of the large volcano that towered over Calderon and threatened to engulf the population of one million inhabitants with its next eruption. It was five hundred metres higher than the city and Sam could feel her heart and lungs working overtime trying to combat the lack of oxygen in the thin air. Gloria, unconcerned, lit a cigarette and surveyed the view from the car park.
‘Amazing, huh? Calderon gets bigger and bigger.’
‘Fantastic,’ panted Sam.
When Gloria had finished her cigarette, they entered the non-descript concrete building and found themselves in a plain orange room with a scruffy reception desk. A bored looking woman was plaiting her hair behind it.
‘Good morning. What can I do for you?’
‘I’d want to see Guillermo Palacios, please.’
‘Go into the room on the right and keep walking. His desk is the last one on the left at the end of the office.’
No security, no I.D. checks? It was almost disappointing. They walked through the long office through parallel lines of cubicles, each with an earnest looking occupant scrutinising their screen and taking notes. Stopp
ing at the last cubicle, they looked in. A man wearing thick glasses and a big moustache that resembled a fat caterpillar balancing on his lip, was peering at a print-out on his desk. He was worrying the cuticle on the side of one finger, which looked inflamed already. Gloria coughed.
‘Ahem. Guillermo? It’s me, Gloria.’
He spun around to face them, his face going deep red in pleasure and embarrassment.
‘Gloria? Oh goodness. It’s been far too long. You’re still as beautiful as a flower. The roses must be jealous when you walk by.’
‘Thank you. I should come here more often if I want to feel wonderful.’
‘But what’re you doing here? And who’s your friend?’
‘This is Sam. We need your help. If you’ve time?’
‘Hello, Sam. Nice to meet you. I’ve all the time in the world when it comes to you, Gloria. How can I help?’
‘We need to look at some aerial photographs in three dimensions and to blow them up to a bigger size if possible. Is that something you can do?’
‘Oh yes, I can do that. Have you got them here?’
Gloria handed over the envelope.
‘What’re you looking for?’
‘It sounds strange but we’re looking for concealed or camouflaged buildings outside the village of San Blas de Lago Verde.’
‘Isn’t that the village where they make the cheese? I’m guessing you’re not looking for secret cheese makers?’
‘Not exactly. It’s more like a game of hide and seek. We’re looking for some people who don’t want to be found.’
‘Sounds mysterious. Okay, let’s see what we can do.’
He crossed over to the opposite cubicle where there was a flat table and a pair of thick lenses suspended above the table on tripods. Selecting two of the photographs, he placed them under the lenses and moved them around muttering. At last, he was satisfied.
‘There you go. Nice clear images, I’d say.’
Sam leaned over the table and looked through the lenses at the photographs which merged and came towards her in relief. She could see individual trees and people.
‘That’s fantastic.’
‘Good, I’m glad that’s what you needed. Now in return I want a favour, too.’
‘Name your price.’
‘If you’d like to stay here and look through the photographs, I want to take Gloria for a coffee.’
Sam looked at Gloria for confirmation. She nodded.
‘That’ll be perfect.’
Gloria stuck her arm through Guillermo’s to prevent him from floating off in a cloud of happiness and went off to have coffee with him in a nearby café. Sam stayed behind examining the photographs for any clues to the secret hide-out of the Nazi officers. It was painstaking work but she could be meticulous when required and she had refined observational skills, part and parcel of being a geologist. She had reviewed four of the pairs of photographs without spotting anything of note when something caught her eye. The image taken of the eastern part of the village had some raised bumps that didn’t look natural due to some straight lines in their formation. They appeared to be covered in grass of some sort but they had dark depressions that could have been entrances in their sides. Even more interesting were the human figures in the photograph. It might have been a trick of the light but Sam made out that they were wearing white coats. They might have been dairy workers but she couldn’t see any rubber boots. Then she realised what she was looking at. Laboratory coats. They were so out of place that she couldn’t believe her eyes even when she magnified the figures by lowering the lenses. What the hell was going on? Why would someone be wearing a lab coat in the outskirts of a village miles away from anywhere? It didn’t make any sense.
By the time that Gloria and Guillermo came back, Sam was almost hysterical with pent up excitement. Guillermo looked as if he had been smoking a psychotropic substance, and Gloria had the smug look of an opera singer that has experienced a standing ovation.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’ asked Guillermo.
‘I think so,’ said Sam. ‘Can you tell me what you see?’
He leaned into the glasses and moved the photographs into focus. He grunted in surprise and moved the lenses around again.
‘I think they’re doctors. Is there a clinic in the village?’
‘Yes,’ said Gloria, ‘I believe there is, paid for by the dairy.’
She took a look through the lenses and turned to face Sam, raising her eyebrow.
‘We need to go now, Guillermo,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to pick up something at the chemist before it closes.’
‘Please don’t leave such a large gap between visits next time flower. I’ll miss you.’
‘Off course I won’t, poppet. Thank you for your help.’
‘Yes, thank you. It’s been so useful,’ said Sam.
They made their way to the car where Gloria lit another cigarette. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. The day had become overcast and dark clouds smothered the top of the volcano which brooded over them menacingly. Sam shivered and Gloria offered her a drag of her cigarette which she didn’t refuse.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she asked Sam.
‘Something weird. I’ve no idea. Don’t panic, I’m convinced we’re on the right track now.’
‘We must go there straight away. I’ve a horrible feeling about this.’
‘Of course. We should leave tomorrow at dawn. I think you ought to tell your father that we’re going. Just in case.’
‘My father? Are you mad? He’ll be furious.’
‘Yes, he will be, but not for long. We need to take someone trustworthy with us. Someone who can protect us should the worst happen.’
‘You mean Segundo?’
‘Yes, I do. If Alfredo and Saul are in trouble, we’ll need help to rescue them.’
‘Okay, I hate to admit it but you’re right. However, we’re going to stop at the chemist’s first.’
‘What for?’
‘We’re going to buy a pregnancy test.’
***
Hernan Sanchez’ face lit up with pleasure when the two women arrived at his apartment. He had been in a quandary ever since he had read the report written by Ramon Vega. Whether he liked it or not, he was implicated in some of the shadier goings on of that era. He was ashamed that he had profited from the expulsion of the Jews from Calderon, having never imagined that similar policies would lead to the death camps in Germany and Poland. He had been young and influenced by the excitement of the fascist slogans and uniforms and talk of world domination. This fascination had disappeared when he learned about the final solution but not before he had earned some money building roads and houses for the new arrivals. Of course, he had not told Gloria about any of this and he wanted it to stay that way. Ramon’s report would stay secret.
Despite his misgivings on the subject he had decided not to warn Gloria off the search for Alfredo. He did not appreciate being told what to do and Holger Ponce had crossed a line with his rude intervention. But he had a condition.
‘Papi, how are you?’ said Gloria.
‘Mr Sanchez, it’s so nice to see you again,’ said Sam
‘I’m well, thank you. How nice to see you both. I was bored here by myself.’
‘Our visit is going to be vexing for you but I need your help, Papi.’
‘Does it by any chance have anything to do with that rogue, Alfredo Vargas?’ said Hernan, wrinkling his brow in a mock serious manner that even Sam found amusing.
‘How did you know?’
‘Honestly darling, you don’t imagine that you can keep secrets from me?’
‘I should have realised that it was unlikely. I’m so sorry that I’ve been lying to you about him. I did mean to tell you. It’s not easy to be apart from someone you love.’
‘I’m not pleased, but I love you and I understand how it is.’
‘Papi, Alfredo is missin
g. I’m so worried about him. He went to the mountains with an American journalist and they’ve not come back. They may be injured or stranded somewhere.’
‘And what’re they doing up there, may I ask?’
‘They were looking for a fugitive German officer from the second world war,’ said Sam. ‘It’s likely to be a rumour, but there could be some truth to the matter, and we’re worried that they have got themselves in trouble.’
‘So, you two fine young women are going to rescue the men from peril? There’s something wrong with this story.’
‘That’s why we’re here. You don’t think we would try to do this without your help, do you?’
‘I can guess what help you want, or should I say whose? That’s my condition for allowing you to go on this mad adventure so we’re in agreement. I’ll ring Segundo tonight and have him meet you at your apartment tomorrow at dawn.’
‘Thank you, Mr Sanchez. We’ll feel a lot safer if Segundo is with us. He’s quite a formidable person.’
‘Ha! That’s one way of putting it, Sam. Now what can I offer you to drink?’
***
After the women had left, Hernan rang his enforcer, Segundo Duarte.
‘Good evening. Who is it?’
‘Segundo, good evening. How are you?’
‘Don Sanchez, what an honour. I’m well, thank you, sir. And you?’
‘Not bad, old friend. I have a job for you.’
‘Of course. What can I do for you?
‘I want you to babysit my daughter and her friend, Sam. They’re going to look for Alfredo, Gloria’s boyfriend, who is missing in the mountains. I believe you heard about Alfredo and Sam on your trip to Riccuarte. I want you to make certain that they get home safe.’
‘Okay, boss. I’ll do that. And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll guard your daughter with my life. When do you need me?’
‘Can you be here tomorrow morning?’
‘Tomorrow is impossible I’m afraid. I’ve got an appointment to renew my identity card. I can’t travel without it, or the police might pick me up.’
