Once We Were Brothers

by Ronald H. Balson

  “Do the maintenance guys have keys to each of the apartments?”

  “Of course. Fire regulations.”

  “Who was on duty last Tuesday?”

  He thought for a minute. “That would be Stefan Dubrovnik.”

  “Is he here today?”

  “Supposed to be.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  The doorman reached behind his desk and pulled out a black walkie-talkie.

  “Stefan? Can you come up to the lobby? I got a detective here who wants to ask you some questions.”

  “I don’t have no information for detective,” the handset belched in an Eastern European accent. “I just do my job. I don’t get mixed-up in no trouble.”

  “It’s not about you, Stefan. It’s about the break-in on seventeen.”

  “I don’t know nothing about break-in. I go now.”

  “Stefan? Stefan?”

  The doorman shrugged. “He turned off his two-way.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Probably the basement.”

  “Will you buzz me in?”

  “Can’t do it. You’re just a private guy.”

  Liam took out his cell phone. “All right, I understand. Let me call Belmont District and get a squad over here. Maybe if enough cops go through the building, talk to all the residents, I’ll get some answers.”

  “Hold on, hold on,” the doorman said. “Jesus, don’t do that. I’ll buzz you in.”

  Liam quickly descended the concrete steps into the boiler room where a small, thin man was hurriedly packing his duffel in the corner. He had close cropped hair and wore a long sleeve black tee shirt.

  “Stefan Dubrovnik?”

  “Yah.”

  “I’m Liam Taggart. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “No. I’m in big hurry. I know nothing about no break-in or nothing what’s missing.”

  “I didn’t say anything about something missing. How do you know something is missing?”

  “I don’t. I just figure. They break in, they take.”

  “Who’d you let in the apartment, Stefan?”

  “No. No. I go now.” He tried to angle by and head for the stairs, but Liam blocked his way, holding the man’s biceps in a tight grip.

  He spoke quietly, inches from Stefan’s face. “Stefan, let me say something to you. Dubrovnik is a city in Croatia, on the Adriatic Sea, very pretty as I recall. I doubt that’s your legal name. I also doubt you have an H-1B visa and the right to work as a super in this building.”

  Stefan swallowed hard.

  “But I don’t care about your legal status. All I care about is finding out who ransacked Ben Solomon’s apartment and I think you know.”

  “I lose my job.”

  “That’s right, Stefan. You’re probably done at this building. But if you tell me what happened, I won’t turn you in, you won’t go to jail, you won’t get deported and you’ll likely find another job in Chicago.”

  Stefan dropped his duffel and nodded his head. “I never see them before this time. They come to my house. They know I have no visa. They say they need to go into Mr. Solomon’s apartment. They threaten me; open Solomon’s door or we call INS.” He shrugged. “I got kids in the school.”

  “How many of them and what did they look like?”

  “Two. White, your height, big shoulders. One have short hair, one have shaved head. That one have tattoo on his neck. Like a barb wire. I let them in back door, we take service elevator, I open Solomon’s door for them, then I go home. I never see them again. I go now.”

  “One more thing, Stefan. Did they have a car?”

  He nodded. “They wait outside my house when I come out to catch bus. They tell me get in. A gray car, maybe a Camry. I have no choice, I get in back seat. They drive me to the building.”

  “What did you notice about the car?”

  “Tan inside. Cloth seats. On the floor was couple beer bottles and magazines.”

  “What kind of magazines?”

  Stefan shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t pick up magazines.”

  Liam’s cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket.

  “Where are you?” Catherine asked.

  “Solomon’s apartment building. What do you need?”

  “I need help. I’ve spent all morning with Ben.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. Why don’t you ask about me? I’ve spent all morning with him. I need some help. This is very emotional. You have no idea. But I got to tell you, we’re not getting any closer to linking up Rosenzweig. Maybe you can help us move along.”

  “Where is Ben now?”

  “We’re taking a break.”

  “All right. Let me wrap things up here and I’ll come down.”

  * * *

  Ben returned from a short walk and put his jacket over the back of his chair. He was sipping a cup of tea when Catherine entered the room.

  “That’s a pretty sweater you have on,” he said. “Looks very nice on you.”

  “Why, thank you Ben. I put it on this morning because there’s a chill in the air, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe a little. I spent so many years out on the golf course, I’m used to the morning cold.”

  “I spoke with Liam. He said he’d try to stop by later, if you don’t mind.”

  Ben smiled. “Trying to speed me up, are you?”

  Catherine blushed. “I’d like to finish evaluating your case against Mr. Rosenzweig. I’m not trying to rush you.”

  “Yes you are, but that’s okay. I’m getting there and when I do, you’ll understand why I’ve given you the whole story.”

  Catherine nodded and picked up her pen.

  Zamość, Poland 1939

  “The first thing the German army did after arriving in Zamość was to round up fifteen hundred of the town’s men and hold them hostage, threatening to kill them if the town didn’t follow orders. They took my father and they took Dr. Weissbaum. They were held at City Hall and at the high school.

  “No one knew what to expect; the Germans weren’t exactly informative about their plans. With Father and Dr. Weissbaum gone, Hannah and her mother moved in with us. Mother made room, she always found room. She and Beka bunked together and we gave Beka’s room to Hannah and her mother.”

  “That’s a lot of people in your house, Ben. Were your uncle and aunt still there?”

  “Of course. And Otto.”

  “Your mother must have been going out of her mind.”

  Ben nodded and then shrugged his shoulders. “All of us. But it’s a funny thing, Catherine, that even in the midst of a world gone mad, you can find hope to hold on to – things to look forward to. The human spirit is enduringly resilient. Hannah and I spent evenings sitting on the flat roof of our home, beneath the stars, planning a life together. Our world was crumbling, yet we were dreaming of a beautiful future.”

  Catherine watched as Ben shut his eyes and once again journeyed back to Zamość.

  “The autumn nights are cold in Zamość. On the roof, Hannah and I huddle together, wrapped in a blanket. We talk about how we’ll buy a home and raise our children, how they’ll have Hannah’s rich auburn hair and beautiful hazel eyes, and how they’ll have my inquisitiveness and stubborn tenacity. Our love deepens on those quiet fall evenings as we look out over the stillness of Zamość. ‘Dance with me,’ she says, and I hold her in my arms. Her head rests on my shoulder and we waltz around the rooftop humming a song.”

  Ben paused. His eyes remained closed and he rocked from side to side to the beat of the music in his memory. “You’d call them old standards today. Back then they weren’t so old. Dancing in the Dark was a favorite, for obvious reasons.”

  Ben opened his eyes and smiled at Catherine. “Even in the midst of the war, those nights were sweet for us. We were young and captivated with each other. We believed that no matter how these invaders oppressed our lives, it’d only be temporary. We’d endure the oc
cupation by the strength of our love.

  “‘I don’t know where we’ll end up, Hannah,’ I say with my arms tightly wrapped around her little waist. ‘We may be scattered to the winds like cottonwood seeds.’

  “‘And you’re worried about where I’ll be when you find yourself at some other corner of the world?’ she says.

  “‘Yes.’

  “‘I’ll be standing right next to you,’ she says. ‘You just look for me. No matter what these monsters have in store for us, I’ll always be there. I’ll never leave you.’

  “And I pledge the same to her.”

  Ben took a deep breath and looked at Catherine. “And we’ve kept that promise.

  “The Germans held the hostages for four days. Then they let them all come home. The Weissbaums went to their home and my father returned to his duties at the factory. People who had been hiding in the woods and on the farms came back into town. It was joyous relief for Zamość, but a tinge of sadness for me, because Hannah returned to her home, too.

  “Some of the stores and houses had been looted and some folks who left to hide in the woods found that they’d been victimized, but no one was being held hostage and no one was being shot and for that we were grateful. We started thinking: we can make it until the end of the war. It’s not so bad.

  “Then the most curious thing happened. A week later, the whole German army withdrew – they drove right out of town, just like that. No one knew the reason and radios were no help. We thought maybe England and France had mounted their offensive or that Hitler had changed his strategy. We didn’t know the real reason; that Hitler and Stalin were still posturing over how to split up Eastern Europe. So the Germans left and a little while later the Russians rolled into town. Then we had the Russian army to deal with.”

  “Were the Russians in the war already?” asked Catherine. “Didn’t Germany attack Russia?”

  “That came much later. In the beginning, there was a treaty between Germany and Russia, the Ribbentrop-Molotov Non-aggression Pact. But in the fall of 1939, Hitler and Stalin were still trying to figure out how to carve up the roast. The Russian army came into Zamość and appointed some of the townsmen as administrators. My father was appointed as a clerk at the city hall.”

  “I confess, Ben, you’ve got me confused. I guess my history classes weren’t thorough enough.”

  “Catherine, if you think you’re confused, imagine how confused we were. We were a volleyball on the European map. But we felt that the Russians would treat us better.

  “The Russian army instituted no pogroms and there were no restrictions placed on Jews in Zamość. People started believing that life during the war would be manageable.

  “Again, we didn’t know that Hitler had no intention of giving Poland’s riches to Stalin. He saw our country as a bountiful breadbasket for the Fatherland. Hitler intended to resettle Poland with German citizens and so he made a second deal with Stalin, giving Lithuania and the far eastern portions of Poland to Russia and keeping Lublin, Krakow, Zamość and all of Warsaw for himself.

  “The Russian soldiers stayed for one week and then they left, and for a while there were no soldiers at all – no Germans, no Russians. Not knowing what would happen next, we tried to get our lives back together. Men and women worked to clean up the rubble left from the bombing and to find housing for those whose homes were destroyed. Hannah worked at a nursery. Otto and I helped with the clean-up, loading bricks and bomb debris into carts to be wheeled to a refuse dump on the edge of town. It was only the eye of the hurricane, Catherine, but we didn’t know it.”

  Ben paused and once again stared at the ceiling. His lips were taut.

  “In early October, the Germans return, this time with the Gestapo. This time with the legions of Satan and his unbridled evil. Within hours, we feel the chill of their presence. The nightmare has come to Zamość.

  “Not long after the Gestapo arrives, an elegantly uniformed officer appears unannounced at our home, accompanied by two German soldiers. He comes at the dinner hour. My father opens the door and they enter without a word. The officer struts into our living room and takes off his hat and white gloves. I estimate him to be in his late thirties, but his skin is pasty. He has beady eyes and a fleshy double chin. His slicked hair has receded deeply on the sides of his head and what’s left comes to a point in the front. I watch as he surveys the room. No one speaks. He sits in Father’s chair and crosses his legs. The polish on his black boots shines like a mirror. Helmeted soldiers stand on each side, like bookends, with stone faces. We wait in silence while he lights a cigarette in an ebony holder.

  “‘Do I speak with Abraham Solomon?’ he says at last. He’s extremely well-mannered, but as cold as a corpse.

  “My father answers in German. ‘I am Abraham.’

  “‘Herr Solomon, I have learned that you are a respected leader among the Jews and so you are to be appointed to the Judenrat, the council of Jews. That is a much honored appointment for you and your family. The Judenrat will report to me, or to my assistant, and will implement the Fuhrer’s orders on Jewish affairs.’

  “‘I seek no privileges, sir. I am no more or less than any other member of our community.’

  “‘You will address me as Dr. Frank, Herr Solomon. My name is Dr. Hans Frank, and you will not forget that, please. And I suggest you reconsider your declination. There will be a Judenrat, of that you may be sure, and it will consist of the most influential of the Jews in Zamość. You cannot help your people if you are not present.’

  “All of us are seated in the room, barely breathing, not daring to say a word. Dr. Frank looks us over, points at Uncle Joseph and says, ‘Who is the crippled man?’

  “‘That is my brother, a well-educated and prominent man. He has had an accident.’

  “Dr. Frank purses his lips and nods. He crushes his cigarette on a dish, slaps his gloves on his leg and rises to leave. ‘I will see you at the town hall tomorrow morning at ten.’ On his way out, he stops at the door and points at Beka. ‘Who is the young Jewess?’

  “‘My daughter, Rebecca. She is only seventeen.’

  “‘Yes. Seventeen.’ He gestures for the soldiers to precede him through the doorway and turns to my father, ‘You will be at the town hall at ten.’ Then he bows slightly and leaves our home.”

  “Did your father go to the meeting?” asked Catherine.

  Ben nodded. “At ten o’clock. When he came home his face was drained of all color. He kept repeating, ‘We should have listened to Ilse, we should have left Zamość.”‘

  Ben’s narration was interrupted by a knock on the conference room door. Catherine opened the door and Liam walked in the room.

  “Hi, Ben. Are you driving my old friend crazy?”

  “Did she call you to bail her out?”

  “I cannot tell a lie.”

  “That’s not fair,” Catherine said. “I’ve been very attentive. I haven’t rushed him at all. But, in fairness, we’re not getting any closer to Rosenzweig and if we don’t steer our discussions to the relevant issues before the partners start bellowing about the time I’m spending on non-billable hours, I’ll be in hot water.”

  “It’s true, she is a good listener,” Ben said. “And she’s kept her fidgeting to a minimum. But she’s wrong about one thing. We’re closing in on Otto. Soon you’ll know the whole story.”

  Liam took a seat at the table, Ben refilled his tea and Catherine picked up her notes.

  “Ben was just at the point where the Gestapo had occupied Zamość and Dr. Frank had visited his home.”

  “Hans Frank?” Liam said.

  “Yes. You know of him?” Catherine said.

  “Wasn’t he executed for war crimes at Nuremburg?”

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “That’s correct. His elegant manners belied his unspeakable cruelty. He was a monster. For a time during the early stages of the war, he was the Governor General of all of Poland. How do you know about Dr. Frank?”

  Liam flashed a she
epish smile. “I’ve been reading.”

  Catherine looked surprised. “Really?”

  “I figured since I got you involved in all this, I’d better know something. Just in case I’m needed.”

  “I’m proud of you,” Catherine said. “You might be useful after all. Ben was just telling me that Dr. Frank appointed Ben’s father to the Judenrat, a committee to administer the town.”

  “Not exactly, not the whole town,” Ben said. “The Judenrat was formed to implement the Gestapo’s orders to the Jewish community, not the Christian part of Zamość. So, on the evening of the next day, we gathered in the living room to listen to my father when he returned from his first Judenrat meeting.

  “‘We’ve been ordered to take a census of every Jew in Zamość, by age, sex and occupation,’ he said. ‘They’re going to use that census to choose six hundred workers a day for forced labor. Essentially, we are to be slaves to the Germans. If we leave anyone off the census and they discover the omission….’ He stopped and cradled his forehead in his hands.

  “Mother came over and sat next to him, her arm around his shoulders. My uncle, my aunt, Beka and Otto all sat speechless.

  “Father continued, ‘We are also ordered to collect money from Jewish families. They call it a tax to pay for their administration of our town. They have also decreed that they will soon decide which of our houses are needed for German officers and which of our businesses they will own.’

  “Aunt Hilda jumped to her feet. ‘Just as it was in Vienna. They take everything you own, and then they torture you and shoot you and break your legs.’ Mother walked over to comfort Aunt Hilda and then Beka started crying and Mother didn’t know who to help first.

  “The census that my father spoke about took several days; there were more than five thousand Jews in Zamość. During that time my father and the other members of the Judenrat were harassed and urged to complete their assignment quickly or face the consequences.

  “Each week saw more Gestapo arrive from Berlin. They established quite a bureaucracy in Zamość. Dr. Frank would come and go; his travels took him all over Poland.

  “It seemed like every week the Gestapo would institute a new restriction. Our liberties eroded bit by bit. One afternoon my father returned home with a bag of armbands. ‘Jews are ordered to wear white armbands with yellow stars. You may not go out without it,’ he said. ‘They have threatened severe punishment for violation of their rules.’