The Darkest Hour

by Roberta Kagan

  “Not at all. I’ll take it first thing in the morning and hand it over to Pfarrer Bernau. He should be there at that time, right?”

  “Yes. He usually prepares mass in the mornings. I’ll just write down the message and slide it under your bedroom door before I go to bed…”

  “Fine with me.”

  Ursula gave Sabine the first real smile. “Thank you. I didn’t want to stay here all on my own, even though I’m not sure travelling in my condition is the wisest course of action.”

  “Go and enjoy yourself. If nothing else, you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep down there that isn’t disrupted by the nightly bombing raids.”

  Ursula chuckled, rubbing her stomach. “A night of undisturbed sleep sounds like paradise. Thank you again for your help.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’m off to bed.” Sabine returned to her room, barely able to contain her excitement over this turn of events. At least now she would have something substantial to tell Lily. Although a message to a priest wasn’t the most compromising action in the world.

  Soon enough sleep claimed her, and she barely cracked open half an eye when Frau Klausen and Ursula left before dawn. But then she remembered the message and jumped from her bed, scrambling to pick up the paper lying on the linoleum behind her bedroom door.

  Excitement – and shame – burning up her face and ears, she glanced at the white envelope and turned it around. Nothing written anywhere. Sealed! Damn woman, wasn’t sealing an envelope proof enough that its content was illicit?

  Sabine needed to read the contents of the letter before she handed it over, or else she wouldn’t have any information to give to Lily. But if the priest found out that she’d opened it, he wouldn’t trust her. What could she do?

  A new envelope came to her mind and she frantically searched the kitchen, the sitting room and even the second bedroom. Entering Frau Klausen’s and Ursula’s private space felt like a crime and she had the icky feeling of someone watching her. Carefully opening drawers and closets, she found – nothing. At long last her glance fell on the small bureau in the corner of the room.

  Locked! Of course, they would lock up the bureau in their own home, as if someone would come and search for their secrets. Her neck hair stood on end and she giggled hysterically at her thoughts. Obviously, someone did search the Klausens’ private room. Sabine sank onto the bed, covering her face with her hands as she realized what had become of her: a conniving treacherous snake.

  With the envelope in hand, she gave up her search and walked into the kitchen to make tea before she had to leave for priest Bernau’s church. Putting a kettle of water on the stove, she pondered her options. Should she telephone Kriminalkommissar Becker and ask him what to do? A wave of disgust rolled through her body and she decided that the less she saw of him, the better.

  Or… might she just open the envelope and pretend the message had come without it? The priest might well believe it…or not. Sabine gave a heavy sigh. There was no solution to her problem.

  The kettle whistled, and she glanced toward the stove, a broad smile spreading across her face. Apparently, there was a solution!

  After pouring some of the boiling water into a cup for her morning tea, she poured the rest into a bowl and located a dishtowel. She held the envelope over the steaming bowl of water, trapping the steam with the towel, and waited for the glue holding the flap down to loosen.

  Several minutes later, she turned the envelope over and rejoiced in her accomplishment when the last bit of glue was released from the paper. Her fingers trembling with nerves, she sat back and drank from her tea first. For the first time since Werner’s disappearance, she saw a ray of hope.

  Carefully, she removed the letter, making sure the envelope would look untampered with when she was done, smoothed out the message on the tabletop and began to read –

  Pfarrer Bernau,

  Please forgive me but I cannot attend the choir practice at your church as I’ll be travelling with my family. I apologize and look forward to attending next week.

  Ursula Hermann

  * * *

  “She must be joking!” Sabine yelled at the empty room, balling her hands into fists. Missing a choir practice? What exactly was so important or urgent about a stupid choir practice? Even if Ursula was the soloist, it didn’t justify her allusions to people needing her.

  Sabine searched the letter for hidden text, and she shook her head in despair when she didn’t find any. The renewed hope sucked out of her, she placed the letter back into the envelope and carefully sealed the flap closed.

  Minutes later she left the apartment to deliver the message. Maybe the priest could shed some light on this? Or maybe Ursula’s overreaction was completely innocent and only due to her advanced stage of pregnancy?

  Either way, she would have a word with Pfarrer Bernau.

  Chapter 20

  Sabine enjoyed the morning sunshine of May, her favorite month of the year. The chestnut trees lining the alley were in full blossom: flower umbels in white and soft pink adorned the trees, petals trickling to the ground with every breeze.

  The chirping of blackbirds and other birds filled the air, almost like a choir filled the vast nave in a church. A few steps further on, she saw a squirrel scurrying up the trunk and then jumping precariously from branch to branch. Sabine smiled. Lots of life existed amidst the rubble, and neither the squirrel nor the birds seemed to have a single sorrow. One day all of this would end and life would return to normal. One day people could live again and not merely survive.

  She arrived at the small and relatively new church: a plain white building, unlike the ostentatious Berlin Cathedral that was reminiscent of the glorious times in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

  Sabine crossed herself with holy water from the basin next to the door before stepping inside. Rays of sunshine shone through the plain, transparent altar windows – probably replacements for damaged stained glass – and danced across the light brown stone floor. In one of the dark wooden benches kneeled a few old women with gray hair, their head scarves tightly knotted beneath their chins.

  But Pfarrer Bernau was nowhere to be seen. Remembering Ursula’s instructions, Sabine left the church again and rounded the building to find the entrance to the small house next to it.

  Her heart pounded more furiously the nearer she got to the door. She swallowed down her fear, shame and guilt before she knocked.

  A gaunt man in his late forties, with warm brown eyes and dressed in a black suit, opened the door. “Good morning, how can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Pfarrer Bernau,” she said, nervously running a hand across her hair.

  “You found him.” He gazed at her for several long moments and then said, “Please come inside.”

  His energy was of a man truly at peace with himself, and a sense of calmness overcame her. She had nothing to fear from him. “My name is Sabine Mahler, and Ursula Hermann has asked me to give you a message.”

  Worry etched itself into his brown eyes. “Does she feel unwell? Has something happened with the baby?”

  “No, no. Ursula and her mother are travelling to visit Frau Klausen’s sister for a few days. She was very upset and urged me to let you know.” Sabine pulled the envelope from her pocket and handed it over to the priest.

  Pfarrer Bernau nodded as he opened the envelope and read the letter inside. A frown appeared on his forehead and he seemed very concerned about the content of the message.

  A missed choir practice – really? “Is something wrong, Pfarrer Bernau?” Sabine asked.

  “No. It’s just a minor inconvenience.” The priest’s expression didn’t match his words, and Sabine decided to make a bold move.

  “Ursula was so worried, she almost cancelled the entire trip to Lower Bavaria. I convinced her that was not for the best for her baby and agreed to fill in while she was away.”

  Pfarrer Bernau raised a brow, asking, “Fill in? Frau Hermann t
old you what she’s been doing?”

  Sabine nodded, stretching the truth as far as she could. “Yes, and I’m on your side. She told me about helping to hide people seeking refuge and a way out of Germany.”

  Pfarrer Bernau stared at her for several long moments and Sabine willed herself to appear confident and trustworthy. “Then Frau Hermann must really trust you. Confiding in the wrong persons can torpedo our entire network.”

  “I like to think we are friends,” Sabine offered, tying to conceal the feeling of victory building up inside her.

  “The timing of her departing Berlin is not ideal, since we had to postpone a few activities due to unforeseen circumstances,” Pfarrer Bernau said, still scrutinizing Sabine.

  “I understand and all I want to do is help.” Sabine prayed she wouldn’t blush at the blatant lie. Her heart squeezed tight. Deceiving a man of God – one more sin piled up on her existing mountain of transgressions.

  “There is a young Jewish girl hiding in the Klausens’ allotment. Frau Hermann was supposed to bring her to the arranged meeting place and hand her over to someone else. Are you familiar with the allotment?”

  “I am.” Another lie. She knew about its existence and had seen the numbered key hanging on the keyboard in the apartment. “And I’m happy to perform Ursula’s duties while she’s gone. But I have never actually been at the allotments…Ursula deemed it too dangerous.”

  “That’s probably right. You two showing up there together might have raised suspicions, but since the family is now on a trip, you can go there to tend the plants. Everyone in Berlin will understand the importance of taking care of the produce.” A slight smile crossed Pfarrer Bernau’s face.

  “The perfect excuse – when shall I go there?” Sabine asked, taking an awful chance. In fact she had no idea where the allotment was.

  “Not so fast, my daughter.” Pfarrer Bernau looked at her carefully and asked, “Are you sure you wish to take this kind of risk? If you are discovered, you will be labeled a traitor, and we all know the Nazis don’t take kindly to them.”

  Sabine’s heart missed a beat or two, only to race at double speed afterward. Either way, she was putty in the hands of the Nazis. She smiled and projected a bravado she wasn’t even close to feeling. “Well then, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get caught.”

  “Good. You’ll receive a letter with instructions tomorrow. Follow them to the T,” he said.

  “I will. But one more question: shall I take the bus or walk to the allotment gardens?”

  The priest squinted his eyes. “How you go there doesn’t matter, but when you have the girl with you, you must take the underground. The name of the station will be in the letter.”

  “Thank you.” Inside, Sabine rejoiced. With the name of the next station she could find the location of the allotment gardens on a city map, and then it would be as easy as counting numbers to find the correct lot.

  Sabine all but danced to work and passed the day in utter excitement, blocking out all thoughts of guilt. Soon she would have Werner by her side again.

  During her lunch break she walked to the payphone in the hallway and called Lily’s number.

  “Hello, Lily. Can we meet tonight? I have exciting news,” Sabine said and for the first time since this whole spying situation had arisen, she felt like she had the upper hand.

  Chapter 21

  After her shift, Sabine set off at a brisk pace. She arrived at the agreed-upon bench in the Tiergarten, Berlin’s biggest public park, surprised to see Lily already waiting for her.

  “You look very elegant,” Sabine commented as she approached the other woman.

  “I’m attending a formal dinner this evening.” Lily lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “For work. So what’s your exciting news?”

  “I have finally managed to infiltrate the resistance organization. Tomorrow they’ll give me instructions for retrieving and moving a Jewish girl.” Sabine smiled as she finished talking, but Lily’s next words deflated some of her excitement.

  “A Jewish girl? That’s all you came up with?” When Sabine nodded, Lily made a scoffing noise and shook her head. “Kriminalkommissar Becker isn’t interested in another filthy Jewish girl. He wants the head of this organization. That’s the information you’re supposed to provide.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. I’ll tell you what to do. You play along with their little game and endear yourself to those traitors. Charm them. Prove your usefulness. For God’s sake, if needed, even rescue that stupid girl, if it serves our goal of finding out who is in charge of organizing those activities. That’s the person we need. It makes no sense to capture one girl. If we don’t take down the entire organization, they will continue to smuggle Jews out of Germany.”

  “So, why don’t we just let the Jews emigrate?” Sabine asked. “What’s so bad about it? They are not welcome in our country and if they want to leave, why not let them?”

  Lily pressed a hand on her chest, giving a little high-pitched gasp. “You are so naïve. Haven’t you studied the work of our great Führer?”

  Sabine nodded, although she wanted to say that Hitler’s book Mein Kampf, that every couple in Germany received as a gift on their wedding day, contained pages rife with an incoherent babble of hateful notions. After not being able to derive a single meaningful thought from the book, she’d given up on reading it and had put it on the bookshelf in the sitting room where every visitor could see it.

  “Jews are vermin.” Lily continued her lecture, scrunching up her dainty nose as if she’d smelled a skunk. “If just one of them escapes, they will propagate like cockroaches, infesting our Lebensraum. No, no. Hitler says we need to eradicate them all to provide for a better world. We cannot let the seeds of a weed remain to grow and damage Germany.”

  Sabine objected to that analogy, and she asked herself whether Lily meant eradicate literally and how exactly that would be performed. But she chose not to voice her own opinion, and instead gave a noncommittal nod, saying, “Thank you for your insight. I guess I hadn’t thought of things quite that way.”

  Lily beamed at her, basking in the knowledge she’d been able to help Sabine see the light. Sabine, though, wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. Not only was she lying to the Klausens, but also to the very people she shouldn’t be if she valued her life and Werner’s. Not that she liked Lily, or the Gestapo, but the constant lying, cheating and hiding nagged at her soul.

  Not a single word of truth had escaped her mouth in such a long time, she worried she wouldn’t remember how to be factual. Sabine had always prided herself on being an honest person, keeping her nose out of other people’s business. A wave of disgust shook her shoulders as she realized what had become of her. Deceiving a priest. And a very nice one at that! Pfarrer Bernau was the kind of person who emanated peace and acceptance. In his presence Sabine had felt cosseted.

  And now you’re going to betray the man… But only to save the life of another.

  Sabine gave Lily another encouraging smile and assured her, “I’ll find out who’s behind everything.”

  “Good. And I’m sure Becker will reward you. Then you can put all of this behind you.” Lily put a perfectly manicured hand on Sabine’s arm. “I knew you would do a good job. Call me on the telephone when you have received your instructions.”

  Sabine watched as Lily walked away, feeling an utter sense of hopelessness invade her soul once again. With her shoulders slumped and her eyes fixed to the ground, she returned to her temporary home.

  Chapter 22

  Sabine climbed the stairs to the apartment and reached for her key, only to freeze when she saw the door was ajar.

  She gave the door a slight kick with her foot and called out, “Hello? Is someone there?”

  No answer. But moments later, the door was yanked fully open and a man in a dark suit pointed his gun at her chest. “Ursula Hermann?”

  A gasp escaped her throat and for lack of words she shoo
k her head.

  He seemed not to care and motioned with the barrel of his gun for her to step inside. The apartment teemed with rowdy men making quite a mess – tearing drawers from the bureau and throwing the contents to the ground, ripping open seat and couch covers, tossing crockery to the floor.

  Sabine swallowed hard. How am I going to explain this to Frau Klausen? Although Frau Klausen was the least of her problems right now. “I’m not—”

  “Sit,” the man commanded, still pointing the gun at her.

  “My name is—”

  “Quiet! Or I shoot you! Now sit!”

  Sabine snapped her mouth shut and settled onto the torn-up couch, the metal springs of its inner workings gouging painfully into her behind. She sat there, her hands shaking in her lap when several men exited the two bedrooms.

  “Nothing,” one of them said with a shake of his head.

  At least Frau Klausen won’t notice that I searched her private room, Sabine thought and almost scoffed at the ridiculousness of her notion. She definitely had worse problems right now. For example, the first man raising the gun at her head and saying, “Where is your hiding place?”

  “Hiding place?” Sabine questioned, confused at his question.

  “We have been keeping this apartment under surveillance for quite some time. You are working for the resistance…”

  Sabine shook her head, “No. I really am not. This is a misunderstanding. I’m Sabine Mahler and the Gestapo ordered me—”

  “We are the Gestapo and we didn’t order you to do anything, at least not yet…” A cruel smile appeared on the face of the man. He apparently was in charge of the operation, because he called to another man, “Take her to the vehicle. She doesn’t want to answer our questions here, so she can do so in one of our interrogation rooms.”