She turned round. ‘So the baby was handed over to Bill Mason?’ He nodded. ‘And now his son, Gus who is, in fact, Adolf Hitler’s son, is set to become the next president of the United States?’ He nodded again. She came over to him, her expression full of concern. It wasn’t concern for Isaac or herself, but for all Jews who believed that the Nazi terror was past.
‘You wanted to know about Hauptmann Lörenz. Well, he’s dead of course, but I don’t think that surprises you. It wasn’t difficult to trace him; it’s a matter of public record; just a case of knowing where to look. He was cleared of war crimes and was granted permission to settle here in America. He changed his name. He anglicized it and called himself Henry Lawrence. He married and had one son. That son carries the same name as his father. He is Judge Henry Lawrence of the Newark Judiciary. He’s also a major player in Gus Mason’s race for the White House, and when Mason becomes president, he is bound to appoint Judge Lawrence to the Supreme Court.’
‘And all his other cronies,’ Isaac lamented.
‘Which means that the Neo Nazis will be in a position to dictate and change American policy against Jews and any other race of whom they disapprove. And with the son of Adolf Hitler at the head of the most powerful nation on earth, it will be a prolific rallying call to all the Nazi thugs who hide behind the freedom won by the deaths of millions.’
She sagged into the chair beside Isaac and took his hand. ‘God help us, Isaac, but Mason has to be stopped.’
The conference room of the Zuckerman hotel on Eighth Street overlooked the New York skyline. It was of little interest to the five men who sat around the oval table discussing business that would have been of interest to the NYPD, even though officers of the New York Police Department were aware the meeting was taking place.
The air conditioning worked continuously to remove the fog of cigar smoke that permeated the room. The five men seemed unaware of the almost toxic conditions having spent many hours in smoke filled rooms talking over the fiefdoms that they ran.
Between them they controlled one of the biggest crime syndicates in America, second only to the Italian Mafia. These were the top men of the Jewish Brethren whose empire covered most of the states in America. Their big operations were concentrated mainly along the East Coast, the southern states and California.
There were no notes taken at this meeting and no recordings. The room had been swept for electronic bugs and none of the men carried any weapons. To all intents and purposes, this was a legitimate, but informal business meeting.
Sitting at the head of the table was Isaac Demski. He was the head of the organization; top man. When Isaac called a meeting, which happened about every six months, his opposite numbers all made the effort to attend. Usually they all knew what the meeting would be about and always made sure they were up to date with facts and figures that Isaac, or any of them for that matter might be asked for.
But today, this meeting was unexpected and had been called in a hurry. The previous hour had been spent in discussing sundry matters because they had been told that nothing could be concluded until Isaac’s son, Jack turned up. They were all curious, but none of them complained about the wait.
Eventually there was a knock at the door and Jack Demski came in. He was carrying a folder which he dropped on the table in front of his father. He kissed him lightly on both cheeks.
‘Shalom.’
He acknowledged the other men in the room and took his seat beside Isaac.
‘I’m sorry I’ve had to keep you all waiting,’ Isaac began. He glanced quickly at his son. ‘Most of you have met Jack. He has just returned from a trip to Europe. It wasn’t a vacation either; it was business. He has learned something that could have repercussions in America, particularly among the Jewish people here.’
Jack waited until his father had finished before addressing the men sat around the table.
‘You all know my father’s history. Some of you have suffered in the same way at the hands of the Nazis. Some time ago, we were contacted by a German national called Gunter Haman. He had an amazing story to tell us. As a result of that we invited him over here to talk about it and subsequently I went to Germany with him and learned something quite incredible.’ He then related to them the whole story and the bizarre truth he had uncovered.
‘My father and I understand that Gus Mason is the baby that was switched. It means that he is Eva Braun’s son; Hitler’s progeny. As you know he is almost certain to be elected as the Republican nomination for the presidency. The way things are, he will become the next president of the United States.’ He could sense a feeling of horror running round the table. ‘He has powerful supporters in the judiciary and the military, and he has many leading industrialists eating out of his hand. We also know of the backing he has received from the Klan.’ This was the Ku Klux Klan. ‘We believe that once he is in power, he will elevate several of those men into important positions of power with the intention of changing domestic and foreign policy. And we’ve got to stop him.’
He picked up the folder and opened it. ‘My father had a meeting with Maria Jankowski at the Jewish Congress. They talked a great deal about the baby switch and what it could mean to America.’ He looked down at the folder. ‘In here are some details of the men who could be elevated into key places once Mason is president. I’ll read them out.
‘General Mort Tyler. He is one of Mason’s main sponsors. He joined the Army in 1968 while still a member of the Young National Socialists in Texas.’ He glanced up at the men. ‘A euphemism for Nazis.’ He went on. ‘He had to relinquish all contact with the movement, but retained his beliefs and support for extreme right wing groups. Highly decorated, he is about the most popular soldier since Eisenhower. We believe he would become head of national security.
‘Judge Henry Lawrence of the Newark legislature. He is the son of Hauptmann Heinrich Lörenz, the man who took Eva Braun to Switzerland. Hauptmann Lörenz avoided prosecution by the Nuremberg War Crimes Commission and settled here in America. He changed his name to Henry Lawrence and named his son after him. Lawrence backed Mason when he first entered politics and would almost certainly be elevated to the Supreme Court once Mason is in power.
‘Chief of Police, John Holder; a Mason lackey. His rise up the ladder has been swift and supported by Lawrence. Most likely to figure highly in Mason’s government, possibly as White House Chief of Staff or perhaps holding a key position alongside Mort Tyler.
‘These appointments are all presidential, but each man will bring with him a second in command in their own particular chain of command. They will certainly be able to wield influence in key areas of policy.’
‘So why should we worry about these three guys?’ someone asked.
Jack looked across the table at Zeek Davidoff. He was the West Coast boss. Born in Poland, he was named Ezekiel by his parents, but on settling in America he had to get used to the local boys calling him Zeek.
‘We are looking in to all of Judge Lawrence’s known associates, and those of Mort Tyler. We know they have very influential backers in industry, particularly weapons manufacture and communication, but naturally they will always remain faceless. And if Lawrence’s organization is working from a position of strength, we have to assume they have other men in place that would bend the knee, so to speak.’
‘That’s a lot of people in a lot of states,’ Davidoff observed.
Jack acknowledged that. ‘I agree, Zeek, but it depends what they are offered.’
‘So what are you and your father afraid of?’
‘Zeek, the last time the Bill of Rights was questioned publicly, it was in 1944 by President Roosevelt. Now, most Americans would consider the Bill of Rights to be sacrosanct. It gives them the freedom men and women have died for. But nothing is permanent in this world, and it would not be beyond a powerful, right wing government to modify it.’
‘That’s shit, Jack, and you know it.’
Jack shook his head. ‘So why did the Nazis murder
an old man and his nurse, and why did they try to eliminate me and Gunter Haman if they didn’t have something they believed was worth protecting?’ Nobody answered. Jack went on. ‘We have to make sure that their plans, whatever they are, do not see the light of day.’ He sat down.
There were murmurings of discontent around the table. Isaac put his hand up and waited until the noise had subsided.
‘You guys have to look out for the lunatics in your own neighbourhood. Bring some pressure on them.’
A big man known as Levi lit a cigar and shook the match until it went out. He then waved the smoke away from his face. He was a union man, big name in the truckers’ union.
‘You want these guys taken out, Isaac?’
Isaac shook his head. ‘Not yet, Levi; first off we gotta make life difficult for them. Get them to see things differently.’
‘Which they won’t,’ Levi said, casting a look up and down the men assembled there.
A taut smile crossed Isaac’s face. ‘Precisely, but we’re going to give them a chance.’
‘Which they never gave our folks,’ someone lamented.
‘Life won’t be worth living if those Nazi bastards get in power.’
‘We gotta be hard,’ came a voice. ‘We gotta look after ourselves.’
Isaac put up his hands. ‘Gentlemen, if these idiots can do it, they’ll change the American Constitution and we’ll all be in the shit.’
‘So we take them out!’
Isaac knew Levi would have loved to turn his men out armed to the teeth, but he didn’t want it that way; the Nazis had a great deal of power on their side.
‘No Levi,’ he said sternly. ‘We need a little more subtlety.’
‘Why not make it public knowledge?’ someone asked.
Isaac shook his head. ‘We’d be made a laughing stock. There’s no proof, other than that of an old nun. No, these guys will use Mason as a rallying point. They’ll make it known once he’s in power that he is Hitler’s son. Then all the nutters in America will flock to their cause. Our only chance is to stop Mason before he becomes president.’
Babs Mason had been persuaded to take an office on the floor of the Tyler building, named after its owner, General Mort Tyler. The Republican Party occupied the top floor below Mort Tyler’s penthouse suite. Babs had been reluctant at first because it ‘politicized’ her life and removed her sense of independence. She believed it was essential that a candidate’s wife supported him but showed no strident, political leanings.
It was over a month since Bill Mason had been buried and the sense of shock still hadn’t left her. Gus Mason’s behaviour, on the other hand, was frightening and he seemed unaffected by his father’s death. From time to time Babs would find herself thinking about Bill Mason and their lovemaking. It had been almost like a rebirth to her, and despite Mason’s age, Babs had found him wonderful, loving and certainly energetic. It saddened her deeply that he was gone.
She found herself wondering about the relationship between her husband and his father; how there seemed to be little love lost between them. Mason’s fatherly affection for his son had sometimes looked a little contrived; something which Babs put down to a man’s inability to show outward affection to another man. There were occasions too, when Gus Mason seemed ambivalent about his father.
Babs was still dwelling on these thoughts when her phone rang. She picked it up. It was reception.
‘Hi, Mrs Mason, we have a Lieutenant Amos here, says he would like to speak to you.’
Babs groaned inwardly. ‘Can he come back another day?’
‘He says not.’
Babs shook her head. ‘OK, Jennifer, send him up.’
Five minutes later, Amos was ushered into Babs’s office. He looked round at the trappings of success and wondered how someone like Babs Mason could endure what was a facsimile of hard earned rewards knowing that she had done nothing to achieve it. In his opinion it was all pretentious nonsense. Nevertheless, he greeted her cordially.
‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’
Babs pointed to an upright chair that faced her desk. ‘Good afternoon, Lieutenant.’ She hadn’t bothered to stand up when Amos had been shown in, and her manner showed a smidgeon of irritation. ‘How can I help you?’
Amos came straight to the point. He knew he would waste precious time with any preamble. ‘I’m investigating the accident in which Bill Mason died.’
Babs showed no emotion although Mason’s death had affected her deeply, particularly knowing how it had happened as well. ‘It was very sad,’ she said.
‘I have evidence that your Jeep was involved in a collision with Mason’s Buick,’ he told her. ‘And I know that new bull bars were ordered and fitted to your car a couple of days after the accident. Would you like to tell me how that happened?’
Babs shrugged, showing colossal indifference. ‘I crashed into Bill’s car a couple of days before he died. There’s nothing sinister about it. Why?’ This was the way in which her husband had insisted the ‘accident’ would be explained.
‘We’ve examined the scene of the accident quite thoroughly and believe that Mason’s car was pushed off the road, probably by your Jeep.’
Babs pulled a face. ‘You can believe what you like, Lieutenant, but I can assure you that is simply not the case.’
‘Were there any witnesses to your shunt with Mason’s car?’
She shook her head. ‘No. It happened at Bill’s place. We were just about to leave for Hutton. Bill normally takes the dirt road, but that particular morning he chose to take the main road into town. It caught me by surprise because I was behind him.’
‘So you weren’t on the dirt road into Hutton?’
Babs shook her head. ‘No, I’ve just told you; we were on the main road. I’ve no idea why he decided to drive back along the dirt road; I’d left by then.’
‘It happened very early in the morning,’ Amos reminded her. ‘What were you doing at his ranch that early?’
Babs looked perplexed. ‘I don’t see that is any of your business, Lieutenant, but since you ask, I followed Bill home after the banquet at Mort Tyler’s place. I wanted to make sure he got home in one piece.’
‘Was he drunk?’
‘Why, does it matter now?
Amos conceded that point.
‘Why did you wait until after Mason’s death before taking your car in for repair?’
‘Too busy.’
Amos always knew it would be a struggle. There was no way the woman was going to admit knocking Mason off the road. Her story was virtually water-tight, and he couldn’t see a way of catching her out. Not yet.
‘We’ve questioned the catering company who supplied the staff for Mort Tyler’s function the evening before your father-in-law died. One of them recalls seeing you and Bill Mason having an argument. Would you like to comment on that?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
Amos watched her carefully, looking for some sign of nerves. ‘When Bill Mason left Mort Tyler’s place, he drove into Hutton. He went to see the editor of the Hutton Chronicle, got him out of bed at three o’clock in the morning. Told the man that he’d seen your husband, Judge Lawrence and Mort Tyler wearing Nazi uniforms? He insisted that the story should appear in the morning editions. Naturally the editor refused; said he needed something more solid than Mason’s pretty weak testimony.’
‘I know nothing about that,’ Babs told him purposefully.
Amos arched his eyebrows. Babs Mason was showing an affected ambivalence that to him seemed like an attempt at protection; protection from her own guilt.
‘Would you be prepared to take a lie detector test?’ he asked her, and immediately saw a reaction in her eyes. The question had unsettled her.
‘If you are going to charge me with my father-in-law’s death, then I would agree. But not until you do, and only when I have my lawyer present, will I agree.’ She had resumed her confident attitude.
Amos had no case, and he knew it, but he could sc
are her. ‘I would also ask questions about the death of Senator Ann Robbins.’
Babs sat bolt upright. ‘What are you talking about?’
Amos spread his hands. ‘It’s perfectly simple, ma’am; I have proof that Ann Robbins was murdered. And now I believe that Bill Mason was murdered. And you are the common link between the two deaths.’
‘My God, Lieutenant, you certainly are clutching at straws.’ Her voice had ratcheted up a notch. ‘Ann Robbins was killed over, what …’ she struggled with this for a moment. ‘Over four years ago.’
‘Killed?’
Babs flustered for a moment or two. ‘Well, she died. You said you believed she was murdered. That’s why I said she was killed.’
‘And that’s probably why you would never agree to a lie detector test,’ he told her, ‘it tends to catch you out.’
Babs glared at him. He could see she was calming herself down, drawing deep breaths in through her nose.
‘Lieutenant, I think you had better leave now. If you don’t, I will call my lawyer and bring a charge of harassment against you and your department.’
Amos stood up. He had a thin smile on his face. ‘You wouldn’t do that, ma’am, because of the negative publicity it would bring. If this gets out into the open, the press will have a field day.’ He could literally see the blood draining away from her face. ‘So let me warn you; I will be digging deeper and deeper until I can bring a charge of murder against you. And believe me, I will.’ He had been leaning forward, his hands on her desk. He straightened. ‘I’ll show myself out.’ And with that he turned and walked out of her office.
Babs sat there mortified. She knew that the lieutenant was right; if this got out into the open it would deal a major blow to her husband’s chances of getting elected. She shook her head in despair; as one problem surfaced and was dealt with, so another one reared its ugly head. Amos was a problem.
She picked up the phone. ‘Jennifer, get my husband for me, please.’
The Boy from Berlin Page 16
