As the men got up to leave the Chief announced, “If anything comes up, I’ll call you, and we can get together for lunch at the Hofbräukeller.
When Piet Servette called Chief Beinschmidt the next day and told him Hans had been spotted in Nice, Bruno thanked the Inspector for the tip, but ignored the information because he believed that “Hans” might really be Mr. Dolch, and probably was still in Munich. He inquired about Miriam’s condition and whereabouts and how David was doing with his recovery. Piet said that Levi told him Miriam had gone into retirement, and David was still recuperating from his injuries; he would probably be out of commission for a number of months, and perhaps even retire. The conversation was pleasant, but dissatisfying to both parties. Piet rang off, turned from his desk, and looking over a glorious spring day in his Geneva, wondered, what was really going on in Munich.
The night Mr. Dolch was picked up in a raid by the Munich vice squad with others in the red-light district clubs was a night he would not soon forget. He was in disguise, as usual, he had perfect identification papers with him, but he still felt extremely uneasy at being hauled in to the police station. If he had just left early, he would not be in this fix. It was all a matter of bad timing.
In a renewed effort to find the serial killer that seemed to be running rampant, the Munich police, in their sweep, hauled in 60 people for questioning. Beinschmidt used the search for “The Dagger” as his main rationale for the city dragnet. He directed his men to throw out a net and bring in at least fifty males a night from local nightclubs. So far, almost thirty had been booked on drug and prostitution charges, making Bruno look like a very effective terrorist chief.
Those caught up in this dragnet were brought one by one into the main police station holding room, searched, and left for questioning. They were taken one by one into a small interrogation room and asked by Gottschlag state their name and read a short paragraph into a microphone. The chief sat in an adjoining room listening to each voice in his earphones. Through his microphone on the small desk, he told Gottschlag either yes or no sealing the fate of each man. The hours wore on without anything but no from the Chief. Both police officers began to wonder whether this whole exercise had been a complete bust. The Chief rubbed his smoke filled eyes and his head pounded from all the cigarettes and coffee, but they kept at it. All of a sudden, he heard the name Oscar Hedel, and listened to him read the paragraph. The Chief’s muscles grew tense; perhaps this is what we have been waiting for? He asked Gottschlag to have the man read it again. This man’s voice rang bells in the back of the Chief’s tired mind. He was sure that this was their man he had spoken with a number of times on the telephone when the GRS had asked for a new “hit, but was it Mr. Golch or Hans?”
Chief Beinschmidt left his small listening room, entered the interrogation room, and motioned for Gottschlag to leave.
As soon as the door shut, he told the man to stand up and drop his pants.
“What the hell for?”
“Shut up and do as you’re told!”
Hans angrily, very slowly, unbuckled his belt and let his pants slide to the floor. He did not step free of them. What is this man after, wondered Hans.
The Chief ordered him to put his foot up on the chair. Hans raised one leg, resting his foot on the chair. Bruno peered closely at the leg, then, told him to show the other one. After the examination, he told Hans he could put his pants back on, to sit down and relax.
“I see the plastic surgeon in Buenos Aries did a fine job on you, Hans.”
“The name’s Oscar, sir. Oscar Hedel”
“No, yours is Mr. Golch or perhaps even Hans Huber! I know who you are. Just watch your step. Don’t get arrested again. Do you understand?”
When Hans heard those words do you understand his eyes focused sharply, staring into the Chief’s eyes, those words were identical in inflection and tone to the words spoken to him on his telephone the day someone from the organization had threatened him. Max stared back and they stared intently at each other for almost a minute. The Chief said, “You may go.” Hans quickly pulled up his pants, left without a word and drove back to his house as the Eastern sun began to creep through the awakening city.
I’ll be damned, thought Hans. The head of the terrorist squad in Munich. He’s my boss in the GRS! He’s the one who threatened me just a day or so ago. Well, this certainly changes things. Now that I know this, I can just follow our good Chief until he leads me to the others in his little organization. Hmmm. I knew the goddamned scar that Jew commando gave me would be my downfall, even with the plastic surgery I guess the Mr. Golch disguise is finished forever now.
Tired and angry, Hans almost drove right past his house.
Several days later, a short, heavy-set man came out of the house next to where Hans was staying and walked over to where Hans was washing his Mercedes.
“Beautiful car!”
“Thanks, yea, it’s my only love, I guess,” Hans said, still sponging the car.
“I’m your neighbor, Tom Metz. Are you a relative of Mr. Golch?”
“That’s right. I’m his cousin, Mike Kermitz from Berlin. He invited me to housesit for a few days while he went on a business trip to England. So how is this area? I’ve only been in Munich a few times, so tell me what I should do first to see the city like a tourist.”
I’ve got a city guidebook I can loan you. It’s a couple of years old now, but it should be enough to get you started. I’ll just get it, but, I promise not to pester you. I hate having neighbors pester me, especially with gossip, don’t you? I try to mind my own business. So, I’ll get the book for you and then see you around.”
When Tom returned with the book, Hans ended the exchange by saying, “Thanks, Tom, I’d better get the soap off my love before it causes spots, and thank again for the city guide book.
He had purposely put a hairy wart on his Adam’s apple, in addition to two others on his cheek and chin, as part of his new disguise as Mike Kermitz. Hans knew the neighbor would concentrate on the wart as it bounced up and down while he talked and swallowed, and forget most other details of his looks.
He had more free time than he was comfortable with. The organization had not contacted him for several weeks, but he still felt under their constraints. Miriam was no longer around, and he missed her. He didn’t know where she was, and that also bothered him. Rutger and Ingrid, his closest associates among the Nazis, were gone too. He now had to fill his free time with something to keep from thinking about the wait for the emerald auction - - - or about Miriam. He decided to start a “research project,” checking out the background of the police officers he could identify in Munich.
He became obsessed with the role of a “lurker,” watching in public places and listening to conversations. He could add to or subtract from his new Mike disguise easily with an array of prosthetic items. His Mike had graying blond hair, much like Bruno’s. He wore huge horn-rimmed glasses and crooked nosepiece with widely flared nostrils. Sometimes he wore a black watch cap that he pulled down over his thinning hair. However, he had to be careful, because his neighbor had seen him as Mike, washing his car. If Tom recognized him through all these disguises, he’d have to take care of him.
Hans had seen fake horn-rimmed big-nosed glasses in a costume shop, bought several pairs, and then molded various noses for each with putty he brought from Argentina.
He thought back to his boyhood in Argentina when he would spend hours in Gunther’s workshop, watching the man make various disguises for everyone in the compound. Gunther had developed a type of skin colored; stretchy putty with acrylic dust mixed into it that could take various shades of makeup. Moreover, the best thing about of “Gunther’s Putty” was that it was easily removed without leaving a trace. Other putty he tried seemed too porous to stand up to repeated uses and left traces when he pulled it off. Hans had also learned the trick of flexing the putty as he put it on to create wrinkles and sags as well. Yes, Gunther had been an artisan as well as a good friend
in sharing his craft with those in the compound back home. He could also forge the best documents, almost undetectable, except by the most expert examiners. Gunther had showed him how to peel off names with clear acrylic liquid paper and replace them on any paper item, which allowed Hans to update his identification as needed. It was tedious work, but it kept his security intact and Hans had never been caught- - -at least not until he came face to face with the Chief of Police, that day at the station. He still didn’t know why was the police were looking for him? Nevertheless, why just release him? It did not make sense, and it bothered him greatly.
Hans researched Bruno, first using the Ludwig Library computers in their main branch, but really wished he had one for himself. Computers were too large, however and Hans did not want to keep anything incriminating on one he possessed. Therefore, he spent a lot of time in the library using different disguises, including Monique, but for “her” he now wore jeans or loose-fitting slacks, not the dress he had used at the auction.
He discovered that the Bruno had been with the department since 1960, the year his father was killed, and had become Terrorist Chief ten years ago. Before 1960, he lived and worked in Denmark. There was little Hans found about the Chief during the WWII years, which somehow made Hans suspicious.
Hans called Rutger at the Klement Compound asking if they had any information about the Chief. Rutger said give him a day and he would see what he could find out. When he talked to Rutger again he told him that a Bruno Beinschmidt had served in a multinational SS division called Wiking under the command of a SS-Brigadifüher Felix Steiner and had the rank of Oberstleutnant. Toward the end of the war, Beinschmidt had become Steiner’s personal bodyguard. Rutger was sure that he had known Han’s father. They were the same age and high up in the same military branch. So that’s how the Chief knew, thought Hans.
Hans also asked Rutger about the two Germans who had replaced the Jews and was told they both were from the Klement Compound. Very interesting. So they had been at the compound after Hans had left to go into business in Buenos Aires. It meant Hans was safe from the Munich police. They would never hold him, even if they did pick him up again. He began watching all three of them. There was a lot of travel between Munich and Berlin by the new police officers and to Hans’ surprise, the chief traveled to Geneva occasionally. He wondered what for?
After getting David’s medical clearance, Levi allowed him to return to work full time at the computer lab under Malcolm’s supervision.
David was anxious to learn how Malcolm created those computer age-enhanced photos, but he soon realized he’d never be able to figure that out as well as Malcolm. Malcolm claimed the program was simple. David did not think so and he had a devil of a time with keyboard commands. At first, he was only able to make changes in shades of gray. Then he learned to add and take away lines in the picture itself. He spent hours tweaking pictures learning how to get the effect he was after. He was progressing, but still had a long way to go.
Now he saw why Miriam always got so engrossed with the computer. But why did he just think of her? He liked fiddling with the computer because it took his mind off her. Now he started wondering where she was now and what she was doing. He would never admit to anyone that he had cried over her and almost went crazy with grief. That was the reason it had taken him so long to heal. If she had not insisted they would have to leave the Mossad and get married…she had broken their agreement to love but stay single.
Interrupting his thoughts, Malcolm asked if David was having a problem. “No,” David answered, “Why?”
You were so deep in thought I figured you couldn’t decide what to do next, Malcolm answered. David mumbled an answer and returned to study the picture on his monitor. He had been experimenting with a generic photo of a man’s face. When he mastered that, he would try out his new knowledge on a picture of “The Dagger.” It was David’s ultimate goal to identify and find the Nazi bastard who’d shot him. Killing the man had become an obsession, and he felt justified in doing whatever it took. He also decided that he would go after him, whether or not he worked for Mossad.
David wanted to talk again with Chief Beinschmidt to find out what he knew about “The Dagger.” Levi, however, did not like that idea of speaking directly with Beinschmidt. He said he already had him under surveillance and he did not want him disturbed in any way. He was so adamant that David did not press it further.
Hans developed the habit of driving an irregular course - - - from the Chief’s house to Gottschlag’s then Neuschondorf’s. He learned their wives’ schedules, too. The three women met for lunch every Thursday at the plaza. The men never came to each other’s homes though, which seemed a little odd to Hans. He went back to the library to continue his research on the Nazi regime and the personnel in Hitler’s staff looking for something more he could discover. He read a write-up on Eichmann’s capture that mentioned his father, but he never discovered any solid connection between his father and the three men here in Munich.
The evidence they had accumulated against Bruno convinced Servette and Levi that he had no interest in capturing Hans. Nobody arrived in Nice from the Munich police and whenever Servette talked with the Chief, he stuck to general business in his conversations. Servette made a point not to initiate any conversation about Hans, just to see where Bruno would go, but he no longer mentioned Hans at all. It was time for some undercover work. He called Levi again.
“We should send someone to Munich to snoop around. Do you have anyone like David who knows Beinschmidt, Levi? How is he, by the way?”
“Chomping at the bit to get out. He’s well and mostly healed. The only thing about sending him to Munich now is he’d spend all his time tracking Hans. David is obsessed about Hans. I can’t say I blame him, though.”
“Let’s hold off then. I really do not have anyone here in Geneva that could interface with our Chief. No. wait! I could send Josef. He has a special way with things like this.”
“Yes, I know he is an exceptional man, but how does he communicate with you?”
“He communicates with Max in old fashioned Morse Code by using a little metal clicker close to a telephone hand set. They can talk that way just about as fast as you and I do on the phone.”
“That’s wonderful, Piet. If you could get on it as soon as possible, I would appreciate it.”
“No problem, Levi. I will send out the troops today. Josef can drive and get there before midnight. We should have something to report in a day or two.
“Great, I’ll wait for your next call, and thanks again Piet.”
It was six months later when, quite by accident, Hans saw David talking to the Chief outside the police station. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He figured David was dead or at the least incapacitated, but there he stood, big as life. The two shook hands and David walked to his car, and Bruno went back inside the building.
Hans followed David and found himself in a non-return lane at the airport. David left the rental car and boarded a plane to Tel Aviv.
So is David the double agent? He must find out. Bruno must know David was in Mossad. It had come out in the newspaper while David was in the hospital. No self-respecting Nazi would knowingly be friendly with a Mossad agent. No informed Mossad agent would be friendly with that particular Munich police officer.
He began a thorough investigation of David. David was not with Miriam, he found. That verified what she had said when they were together- - -retired and moving to Australia. Hans’ adrenalin was flowing, his mind was working overtime. He felt back in his element again. In all of the months, since he had learned about Bruno he had only taken out one Jewish couple. They had been as easy to kill as the Kleins, the servants who worked for his grandfather, but he was not as motivated as he had been with the Kleins. The Kleins had led him to his emerald, but it was a tortuous path on which he remained and still just out of reach.
CHAPTER 26
Rome - - - Munich - - - Tel Aviv
When her Rome assignment w
as finally over, Miriam flew home to her beloved Israel. As the El Al jet flew high above a deep azure Mediterranean, she thought even though the time away from Israel had passed quickly; so many things in her life have changed. She had worked hard in Rome, but still had time for a few days away from the office. Closing her eyes, she thought how she had grown to love Italy, especially northern Italy. She would always cherish that weekend she spent at Lake Garda in the glorious restored 16th century Palazzo. She had no idea that her breath would be taken away with the wondrous view of the lake after driving up that winding mountain road. The travel brochure she had read at the tourist agency in Rome was right. Set in the hills above Salo’ the view from II Palazzo was spectacular; with vineyards just below the Palazzo and olive trees in abundance, and the lake - - - the lake! An aquamarine jewel set between towns and hills that surrounded it. That was one of the best vacations she had ever had ever taken. She could see herself, in her mind’s eye, sunning around the pool, tourist-like wandering carelessly through the small towns lining the lake, scuba diving and even trying to windsurf. She had gone back to the same place twice and would go again if her time in Rome had not ended.
The stewardess gently touched her shoulder and asked if she would like lunch - - - lunch - - - “Yes, thank you” - - - but how could she ever forget that feast in Venice on that weekend escape from Rome’s heat last July. Besides that lunch to remember for ever what was it about Venice but gondolas, the Grand Canal, music, churches, and oh yes, the Piazza San Marco, with the great Basillica and the Doge’s Palace. She would go back, someday, she promised herself.
The stewardess returned with her lunch tray. Well it isn’t like the food in Venice, she thought, but I am hungry enough to eat anything. Looking out of the plane’s window, seeing the Mediterranean as a blue-green dot below she knew she would be glad to get back home, even after the different job and adventures in Italy. She wanted to be in the field again. She had to admit that she was even looking forward to seeing David again even though she was completely over him now. Would he want to see her? It was the biggest question on her mind, and she had entertained all possible variations on its answer during the remainder of the flight.
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