The Eve of Abounding Wickedness

by Mark Spaid

  “A word please.”

  “It’s late on a Saturday night, can’t you come around to the paper sometime?”

  “That’s just it, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think maybe they’re watching me.”

  “Who?” The man looked around and walked closer.

  “Can we please go somewhere in private and talk. It’s very important.” Justin looked at Belinda who shrugged her shoulders.

  “Alright, come inside.” They sat at the kitchen table and drank tea that Belinda fixed them.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Fanelli, that I frightened you. It was the last thing I wanted to do,” the man said.

  “That’s okay, I guess I get scared easily.”

  “I should’ve thought things through and I’m sorry.”

  “Forget it. Justin I’m going to bed and she kissed his cheek before leaving the kitchen.

  “Okay, sir, this matter of importance that couldn’t wait until Monday morning.”

  “Let me tell you about myself first and that might help make sense of this whole thing.”

  “That’s always a good place to start.”

  “My name is Jerun Capeder.”

  “Romansh.”

  “Yes, I’m impressed. There aren’t many of us and you over here in Indiana, the USA knowing about a tiny Swiss canton.”

  “I did a report on Swiss languages during college and there were Romansh names as well.”

  “That’s interesting. Well, about me. I was born in 1932 in Switzerland and grew up in a small village north of Sulselva. My Papa was a mailman and my Mama a school teacher. I was an only child but the greatest influence in my early life was my Grandpapa, my Papa’s papa. Alesch Capeder. We did everything together; took hikes, fished, did water colors. Any influence I may’ve had as a youth came from Grandpapa. He was a sort of free-lance reporter who had a lot of downtime and he spent it with me. But in the early nineteen forties there was the war. Switzerland was neutral of course but the Germans had spies everywhere including Switzerland. Grandpapa was up north near the German border for a few weeks and he’d write to my Papa often and tell him what was happening. Grandpapa was spying on the Germans. He’d sneak across the border at night, gather information then come back before dawn. My Papa was concerned and he and Mama had many long conversations into the night. I could hear them talking through my bedroom wall but I couldn’t understand what they were saying. But I did here my Grandpapa’s name so I knew it was about him and I thought it must’ve had something to do with what Grandpapa was doing on the German border.

  “Did he ever talk to you directly about it?”

  “Yes, once he came back for a few days and told me to obey my parents and if I didn’t see him again that he loved me and was proud of me.”

  “That must’ve been suggestive even for a youngster.”

  “It was and I feared for the worst. I was twelve so I was aware of things in the world.”

  “I take it the next thing’s bad.”

  “Yes, Grandpapa came back one night late. He was banging on the back door and when Papa let him in, they sat at the kitchen table talking but Grandpapa kept getting up and looking out the window. I was in the pantry listening and I could see through a hole in the wall of the kitchen everything they were doing. Papa tried to settle Grandpapa down but he was more excited and frightened than I’d ever seen him. All I heard was they’ll be coming for me…they’re chasing me…they were right behind me by an hour or so.”

  “Had to be scary for a young boy to hear.”

  “It was and I was terrified for Grandpapa. What happened was vague but in time I figured it out. Grandpapa arrived in the village with his journal. It had everything the Nazis were up to and he knew they’d kill to get it back. When he arrived, he gave the journal to a young girl in the village. She worked at a local pub and was getting home late when he met her in the street. Her name was Gerta and everyone knew everyone in our village. She was supposed to hide it and turn It over to the police in a few days.”

  “But it was never given to the police.”

  “No, sometime during the night Nazis arrived in the village and safety was gone from our lives.” Jerun paused and lowered his head. “Sorry but even this long after it happened, it bothers me.”

  “No doubt it does, we never get over losing a loved one,” Justin said.

  “No, for sure and in a way, they never leave us. I have a picture of Grandpapa and me in our hiking outfits. It sits on my fireplace mantle and many times I take it down and sit staring at it. Those days come back to me and it’s nice.”

  “Go on, Mr. Capeder.”

  “I didn’t sleep well that night and my Papa was up wandering around the house and outside all night.”

  “He was on the lookout.”

  “Yes…the next day hikers found Grandpapa’s body in the woods…strangled.” Justin let out a sigh. Yeah, it was bad then two days later the girl who was given the journal was found by the river…strangled.”

  “And, the journal?”

  “Before she disappeared, she came by the house and gave it to Papa.”

  “That put all of you in the cross-hairs.”

  “Indeed.”

  “I’m afraid to ask what happened next.”

  “The Nazis never gave up until they got what they wanted.”

  “They found your Dad’s body.”

  “Three days later in the woods.”

  “Then what?”

  “Mama knew we didn’t have long before they came for us. They thought that we had the journal.”

  “And you did.”

  “Yes, and Mama had a plan. She had a sister about a block away. We packed up a couple of suitcases and went there; Mama had the journal.”

  “And they came soon after that to rifle the house.”

  “The next night. We were watching from the attic of my aunt’s house. We could see them tearing the place apart through the windows.”

  “And, you had the journal.”

  “Yes.”

  “But they didn’t know where it was and with you gone, they only had one choice.

  “That’s right.”

  They burned the house down to get rid of your mother and you.” Justin said.

  “Good grief, were you there?” Justin chuckled.

  “No, but I have a few deductive skills and it’s not hard to predict what those maniacs would’ve done,” Justin said.

  “Maniacs is right.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Mama booked a flight to Lisbon. We left after dark on two bicycles my aunt had in her shed.”

  “To Lisbon then the U.S.”

  “Yes, and believe it or not my Mama had a cousin here in Bloomington thus, our natural landing spot.”

  “Did they come after you?”

  “Not that we knew of but it was 1944 and the next year the war was over and so was Nazi espionage.”

  “So, you stayed in America.”

  “Mama thought about going back to Switzerland but she had a good job here at a department store and a good university in town for me so, we stayed.”

  “You went to IU?”

  “Yes, I was a civil engineer for thirty-five years for the city.”

  “The journal?”

  “Mama had read it but she didn’t want me too so I obeyed her. I knew where she kept it and when she died in nineteen sixty-three I still left it alone.”

  “But it must’ve intrigued you about what was there since so many lives were lost trying to get at it.”

  “It did but you have to understand that family in Switzerland is different than in the U.S. Parents were held in very high esteem. I think they are even today though maybe the importance of family relationships has slipped there since I was a kid, I don’t know”

  “I suppose…but you must’ve eventually read the journal or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “Yes, it was a year ago and I thought that I’d like to know what possess
ed the Nazis to kill for it.”

  “I take it from your countenance that what you found out confirmed some of your worst fears.”

  “It was, beyond what I thought. It’s unbelievable.”

  “I have one question. Can what happened in 1944 have a negative effect on the world today?”

  “It most certainly can and some day it will,” Jerun said.

  “Why’d you wait a year to tell anyone.”

  “I wasn’t sure what to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m too old do to anything and even when I was young, I didn’t have the skills or the nerve to do something reckless or heroic.”

  “So, you needed someone to take action.”

  “Yes, but I had to decide who. The police? No, I’ve never trusted the police in any country. A lawyer? God, no. A private detective? Maybe but they’re mainly concerned with the money. Then I thought of you. I read your articles in the paper and they’re quite good. Your adventures and the dangers you and your friends get into caught my attention. One way or another you’re able to get things done…finding Henry Randall, solving the Romley’s problem, your escape from those giant sharks in South America and the capper was Stanly Burnham. I read your book about him and it was an eye opener. I’ve thought about it for months and I made my decision last week. You were the one I wanted and I knew I had to contact you soon before it was too late.” Justin sat up at that comment.

  “What do you mean, before it was too late.

  “I’m eighty-eight years old Mr. Weaver and I have a bad heart. Now, I know what you’re thinking. How bad can it be if I lived to eighty-eight?” Justin chuckled.

  “What do you want me to do with this?” Justin asked as Jerun handed him the journal.

  “Read it.”

  “Is it in German?”

  “No, Grandpapa wrote in English. He’d planned to smuggle it out to England or America.

  “What do I do after I read it?”

  “You decide.”

  “Shouldn’t that be up to you?”

  “No, I’m passing the torch to. I won’t be around much longer. The doctor gives me a few weeks to live so, I’m giving it to you because I think something needs to be done. I’m not sure what but I know you’ll figure it out.” Justin sat back and sighed.

  “I’ll read it then decide what to do. I’ll need to bring my friends in on what it involves.”

  “You do whatever you think’s right. I’ll leave you now and please, tell your wife again that I’m sorry I startled her.”

  “I will and thank you for the journal, Mr. Capeder.”

  “I just hope you’ll be thankful after you read it.” He left and Justin sat for a few minutes then opened the journal. He thumbed through and it was only twenty pages. He looked towards the house and saw the light on in their bedroom. Belinda was making herself beautiful for bed. That was easy because she was gorgeous to begin with and didn’t need much attending to look stunning.

  “Lind, I want to make love to you but I need to read this. Please forgive me.” He read it in fifteen minutes pausing to take it in and not believing what he was reading. Putting the journal down he walked around the patio thinking and mumbling. “What do I do? I can’t believe what I just read. I have to bring everyone in on this, especially Dave and Tatiana...Sol.” He grabbed the journal and went upstairs.

  “I’m waiting, Baby,” Belinda said as she lay on the bed in pink lingerie. She was enticing, delectable and irresistible and on any other night Justin wouldn’t hesitate to accept the invitation. But this wasn’t any other night…it was tonight and his mind was elsewhere and contrary to what women may say or believe, men even in the presence of a temptress like Belinda can think with something besides their %$#@. He sat on the bed and stared straight ahead. “Are you going to change into something more comfortable?” She said laughing at her own joke but Justin didn’t hear. “Hey, I’m down here…the world’s sexiest woman who’s making herself available to you.” He still was oblivious so Belinda sat up next to him and pinched his arm.

  “Ow.”

  “So, you are alive.”

  “That hurt.”

  “I’m glad, then don’t ignore me again.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Lind. I guess I’m thinking about something.”

  “Was it that old man?”

  “Yes, and he said he was sorry again for scaring you.”

  “That’s okay, but what’d he want and please don’t say it’s complicated.”

  “No, it’s fairly straight forward but it’s bizarre.”

  “Can you tell me?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “I need to tell Andy then the whole group. You’ll need to call Tatiana and get them to come see us.”

  “This sounds serious.”

  “It is. This could be the worst thing we’ve dealt with since we started doing…whatever it is that we do.”

  “Now, I am scared.”

  “So am I.” Belinda asked for a back rub knowing that Justin had never said no and he didn’t of course. As he rubbed her back and she moaned he was staring at the wall and thinking. He needed to tell everyone what he read in the journal then figure out what to do next. The possibilities were frightening.

  Schensburg Germany

  September 1944

  “Report, nurse,” the doctor said as he sat in his office.

  “Baby boys Eichman, Borman, Goring, Goebbels, Himmler and Hitler are in perfect health.”

  “Good and the other children?”

  “They’re healthy.”

  “How many of each and the names.”

  “Eichman…two girls and two boys.” Borman…three boys and one girl. Goring…three girls and one boy. Goebbels…two girls and two boys. Himmler…three boys and one girl. Hitler…two boys and two girls.”

  “Thirteen boys and eleven girls…slightly unproductive.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “When will the chosen be weaned?”

  “January.”

  “Not soon enough. It must be complete by December 10th.”

  “We can start them on milk if need be…they’ll be ready.”

  “Good.”

  “What’ll happen then?”

  “As I’ve said before, nurse. That’s not our business. Just continue as you have and we’ll receive our orders.”

  “Yes, Doctor.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Wow,” Tatiana said as Dave related his conversation with Ron Shapiro to his wife.

  “Yeah…I think we need to go to Indiana.”

  ‘That’s funny because Belinda called while you were out and they need us there as well.”

  “Did she say why?” Dave asked.

  “Justin found something and says it’s vitally important for us to get there as soon as possible.” Dave got up and paced the room for a moment.

  “Love, you know what I’d like to do?”

  “What?”

  “Pack our bags, get the girls and go out to see Robby for a couple of months.”

  “He lives in a cabin in the hinterlands of Montana. We’d be cut off from the world.”

  “Exactly why I want to go there.”

  “Oh, come on, Dave. We’ll get through this…we always do.”

  “I know but did you ever think that maybe one of these times we won’t make it out alive.”

  “Sure, bad things can happen but we’ve always relied on our wits and it’s worked.”

  “So far,” he said and sat next to his wife on the couch.

  “Yes, Dave, so far.” She put her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his arm.

  “We’ll need to take the girls for their safety.”

  “Yes, I’ll tell them tonight when they get home.” College was almost out for the spring semester…two days left. They could wait that long to leave for Indiana. After all, this thing could turn out to be nothing but Tatiana also knew that if Dave took it seriously then it was re
al. She began making arrangements as Dave was calling Sol.

  “Sol, I need to talk to you, tonight. Yes, it is. No, it can’t wait. I’m not kidding. Yes, it’s serious. Well, sure, we’ll be waiting.”

  “He wants me to make those cinnamon rolls doesn’t he.”

  “Since you mention it…yes,” Dave said grinning.

  “I suppose he’s bringing a bottle of his best.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Dave, he has the finest wine cellar in the county, maybe the state.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “That’s right, you wouldn’t. You can’t hold your liquor…you never could.”

  “That one time I drank too much vodka.”

  “The bellboy and I barely got you up to your room.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, I shouldn’t drink.”

  “You can have a root beer while Sol and I polish off the wine.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Dave,” she said with pursed lips.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s alright but watch it,” then smiled at the man she loved. “I’ll fix the rolls and you get cleaned up.”

  “What do you mean cleaned up?”

  “You need a shave and your hair isn’t combed, plus that outfit.”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “Nothing if you’re at the mission.”

  “The mission…”

  “I was teasing, Dave.”

  “I guess I could use sprucing up a bit.”

  “A bit, how about a makeover,” she said chuckling as she made her way to the kitchen. An hour passed as he showered and Tatiana fixed her famous rolls.

  “Sol’s here, Love.”

  “Good, they’re warm right out of the oven.”

  “Hello, Sol,” Dave said as he ushered his friend and mentor into the kitchen.

  “I smell cinnamon.”

  “And, you brought wine, of course,” Tatiana said smiling.

  “A great red that I’ve had secreted in my cellar with you in mind.” They had a glass and a roll while Dave had his root beer. There was some small talk then they grew quiet and Sol leaned back in his chair with hands clasped behind his neck.

  “Dave, what’s this thing that’s worrying you?”

  “How do you know it’s worrying me?”