The German Half-Bloods (The Half-Bloods Trilogy Book 1) Page 28

  The young woman looked nervously at the office door behind her.

  “You will answer my question, Fräulein.”

  “Yes ... no. His driver is also staying here, and his son, but … but I haven’t seen him since last night. I don’t think he’s left the room at all.”

  Leitner moved to the window and studied the trees outside. How could Paul Vogel be in the bedroom where he’d been all night if he’d also been at Görden prison gassing Jews? “You say his son arrived last night with his father?”

  “Yes, sir. They got here about eleven o’clock from Berlin. I remember his son because he didn’t say a word when they arrived, not even when I asked if he wanted a plate of cold meats from the kitchen. The restaurant was closed, you see.”

  Beautiful butterflies fluttered in Leitner’s stomach. He’d discovered something infinitely more interesting than Paul Vogel’s cavorting with a Jewess. To confirm that he’d heard correctly, he repeated, “Are you sure he was Herr Vogel’s son?”

  The young woman looked at the registry and pointed to Dieter’s name. “I can’t be sure. The young man didn’t sign the book, but as you can see, Herr Vogel wrote, Vogel times two, plus driver.”

  “What room are the Vogel’s in?”

  “I’m not supposed to...”

  “Give me the room number.”

  Chapter Forty

  Max paced the room, ignoring Paul who was desperately trying to calm their heated argument before it got out of control. Max’s hot-headedness had mellowed since boyhood, Paul acknowledged, but his temper was as fiery as it had been the day he’d stabbed Wilmot in the arm with a fork. He’d been ten at the time.

  Paul placed his hand on Max’s shoulder to stop him moving. “I’m not apologising for being here, and Father won’t either. I’m staying and you’re going, that’s all there is to it.”

  Max shrugged Paul off then stepped backwards out of reach. “Jesus, Paul. You might as well have thrown a homecoming party for me and invited the whole damn Nazi Party. You told Papa? What were you thinking? And where’s the woman you were taking to Switzerland?”

  Paul blushed. The situation couldn’t get much worse, he thought, Max was raging. He might as well come clean about everything and get it over with. “Judith ran away from me. She didn’t write a note, apart from a scribble on a tram ticket. Don’t ask me why she left, I don’t know.”

  “You must know.”

  “All right, I might, but it doesn’t matter now. The thing is, Max, I lied to her, and to you as well. I was never going to go into Switzerland, as such. I intended to take her to the border, make sure she got through it with me and then I was going to come back the very same night. I owed her that.”

  Max leapt forwards, pushing Paul’s back against the wardrobe. “You didn’t owe her anything. What happened to her family is a tragedy, but it wasn’t your fault,” Max shook his brother’s shoulders. “You understand that, right?”

  “Well…”

  “Well, nothing. You let me down, listened to me rambling on with instructions about what to do when you got to the hotel in Zurich, and what my cover was and how you should use it. You even took my forged identity documents.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “No, you’re not – Christ, Paul, you can’t lie to me about something this important, or change your mind about where your loyalties lie. This is more than bad form, it’s a bloody double-cross. Have you any idea how difficult it was for me to get the permission to mount this operation?”

  Paul’s anger surfaced. “All right, that’s enough. Jesus, you’re a sanctimonious arsehole at times. I’ve brought your documents and watches back to you, and I’m staying in Germany because I want to help the German people … they are my people ... mine.” Paul panted with anger, but he wasn’t finished with Max yet. “Did it ever occur to you that I’m afraid for our parents? You’re standing here giving me a lecture when I’m the only bugger in the family that gives a damn about their safety. Willie’s off playing SS bully, which he’ll get tired off, because he’s not the Nazi he thinks he is. Hannah left her distraught mother for Frank, and you, well, I don’t even know who you are anymore. Admit it, Max, I didn’t let you down, because you didn’t come to Germany to help me, it was to spy for your bosses in London.”

  Max flopped into the tapestry-covered armchair in the corner of the bedroom. His anger appeared to be subsiding. “I don’t get it, Paul. The woman you did all this for has disappeared without a word, and now, you’re planning to go back to work at the gas chamber because you’re worried about our parents? I can understand you being concerned for our mother’s safety, but she made her choice to stay, numerous times according to you. It’s not your job to keep Mother safe it’s our father’s, and that’s what he’s doing, in his own warped way.” Max slapped his hand against his forehead. “Why … why are you even thinking of going back to that hospital? You’re not practicing medicine or training to be a doctor in Brandenburg…”

  “I won’t be there for long, a week at most,” Paul interrupted.

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “Because I do.” Paul sat on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Father has already taken steps to get me out of that place. He is adamant that his contact will be able to solicit a transfer, and although I don’t know who this contact is, I believe Papa will come through for me.”

  Max looked unimpressed.

  “I was supposed to meet Herr Brandt in Potsdamer Platz at three o’clock,” Paul said, changing the subject. “He’ll go berserk when he finds out I don’t need Judith’s documents. What should I do about him?”

  “There’s nothing you can do. You’ll have to stand him up,” Max sighed.

  Max wrung his hands, frustrated with Paul’s stubbornness. He looked at his brother’s depressed expression and despite his irritation, said, “Before Father comes in, I have to get you up to speed with what’s happening at Brandenburg. If you do go back, you should know that I supervised the SS stokers when they transported dead Jews in post office vans to a new crematorium site. Apparently, the public is complaining about the smell and smoke coming from Görden Prison.”

  Paul’s eyes brightened. “That’s good news, isn’t it? That’s what we want.”

  “Yes, but when the gassings stop at Brandenburg, they’ll begin again somewhere else. I know you think you’re doing what’s right for Mother and Father, but have you considered that you might be sent to Poland, or France, or further afield? And have you weighed up the odds of you being posted to another hospital or camp where they’re continuing this gassing program?”

  “Father is influential. He might be able to convince someone higher up the ladder to keep me in a Berlin hospital for wounded soldiers.”

  Max paused, wanting to make sure he didn’t trip over his words. His twin was naïve at times. “All right, but even if he does manage to set that up for you, life is not going to get better for the Jews. It’s going to get worse, and the authorities will dispose of even bigger numbers. Knowing that, do you still want to fight for the Reich?”

  “Why do you assume you know what’s going on here? Stop, Max – stop,” Paul said raising his hand.

  But Max couldn’t stop. “Think about what it will be like in six months, or a year when they start gassing Jews in the concentration camps they’re building. They spoke at a meeting yesterday about Auschwitz in Poland and the camps and ghettos being set up for the Jews. Leitner remarked that soon there would be no Jews left in Germany, and Rudolph joked that they’d eventually be obliterated from Europe. That might be nonsense, but think about it, Paul, if you were the Reich, would you want to spend money feeding and clothing Jews sitting around in camps for God knows how long? What would be the point of using resources and soldiers to look after a race of people who don’t contribute to the war effort? Do you think the medical experiments on them will stop…?”

  “What medical experiments are you talking about?”

  Ma
x hesitated. Paul seemed genuinely confused. Softening his tone, he finally said, “Ah, you don’t know, do you? I had a look inside those sealed laboratories you told me about. I went to the basement and broke into one at five o’clock this morning. I saw the equipment, the blood, the notes and diagrams of bodies before and after death written on a blackboard, and I looked at the corpse of a child no more than six years old with its head cut open. They’re documenting their human experiments on living children and killing them in the process.”

  Paul slumped onto the bed. “Leitner told me they were conducting autopsies, the lying bastard.” Paul squeezed his eyes shut as if to allay the images that came flooding in. “You have to tell your superiors to stop the...”

  Max spread his arms. “Stop it how? Should we bomb the hospitals and concentration camps I’ve learnt about? What about collateral damage…?”

  Max’s answer was still hanging in the air when Dieter arrived. His earlier nervousness had gone, as had the vulnerable, moist-eyed father overcome with emotion upon seeing his eldest son. Now, he stood in front of his two boys as the domineering paterfamilias they both knew so well.

  “Max. I’m guessing you’ve told your brother about your disgust,” Dieter began. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s wrong with you, and why you can hardly look me in the eye.”

  Max sneered, “What? My disgust with you for producing gas that kills children? Could well be.”

  Dieter threw a scathing glance at Max before saying, “You don’t have the right to judge me and I don’t have the time to explain myself to you. No one will touch your mother because of what I’m doing, that’s all you need to know.”

  When the knock on the door came, the three men froze. Max, taking no chances, immediately lay down in the narrow space between the single bed and the room’s side wall. Dieter walked to the door, and Paul leant casually against the wall next to the window.

  “Good morning again, Herr Vogel,” said Leitner when Dieter opened the door. “I’ve come to arrest your son. Ah, there he is. Good morning, Paul.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Once admitted, Leitner removed his cap and smiled to cover his uncertainty. He was still pondering how Paul could be in two places at the same time when that was an impossibility. It was feasible that the girl at the reception desk had been mistaken or had lied to him, but she’d clearly marked the Vogels arrival time in the ledger, and nothing she had said explained him seeing Paul Vogel get in his father’s car at the hospital and not getting out of it at the Inn.

  “I’m glad I found you here,” he said, casually. “I would rather do this now than make a scene at the hospital. Like you, Paul, I believe the appearance of loyalty is important.”

  Dieter stepped between Leitner and Paul, a furious scowl on his face. “What do you want, Hauptsturmführer?”

  “I intend to take your son into custody. Examples have to be made, Herr Vogel, and Paul I’m sorry to tell you, is guilty of treason.”

  Paul held his breath while Dieter gaped, but Leitner, exuding a more confident mien, nonchalantly sidestepped Dieter and moved to the window. There, he propped himself against the wall and gazed into Paul’s terrified eyes. “You’re scared, Paul. And you should be.”

  “I’m not afraid of you. What’s this about?” Paul retorted.

  Leitner lit a cigarette. “Last night, when you ticked off the patients’ names as they came off the buses you noted that one was missing.”

  Paul said nothing.

  “You wrote no show next to the name – you don’t remember a Jew on the list with the name of Judith Weber – think about it – Judith Weber?”

  Leitner saw the flash of recognition in Paul’s eyes. “Ah, I thought so. She’s been of interest to me because we executed her father not that long ago for circulating anti-propaganda leaflets. I’ve been looking for her for four days.”

  “What does she have to do with my son?” Dieter asked.

  “I’m getting to that, Herr Vogel. When our SS soldier on the ambulance bus went to her flat the first time, he marked her as missing. On the second occasion, he questioned her neighbours about her whereabouts, but they said they knew nothing. On the third day he visited, he asked the soldiers building the ghetto fence if they had seen her, and to his surprise he found out that a doctor had removed her from the building three days earlier. Imagine my astonishment, Paul, when he told me that the doctor in question was you. Where is the Jew bitch?”

  Paul’s breath was caught in his throat.

  Leitner continued, “The soldier guarding the ghetto fence was quite specific. He told me he went to the Jew’s flat because a neighbour had informed him that you and Judith Weber were cavorting sexually. She heard loud moans coming from Weber’s bedroom, apparently. The soldier even took a note of the neighbour’s name, a Frau Rosenthal. Tut, tut, Paul, you know that sexual relations with a Jew is against the Rassenschande. You are aware of that law, are you not?”

  Paul’s lips twitched, but he was still incapable of speech.

  “Unfortunately, Frau Rosenthal and her family have now been relocated,” Leitner then said. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? Not when multiple witnesses saw you driving away with Judith Weber in your car.”

  “This is nonsense,” Dieter said.

  “Where did you take her, Paul?” Leitner ignored Dieter’s protest. “She didn’t end up at the hospital, so I assume you’re hiding her from the medical authorities. If I’m correct, you’re guilty of a second violation: aiding and abetting Jews. That’s a death sentence in the hands of a clumsy judge.”

  Dieter took a step backwards towards the door. Paul moved to his father’s side, but then took another pace rearward until he felt his back touch the door panel. “Those are ridiculous charges, Hauptsturmführer, and if you believed in their veracity you would have dealt with me last night.”

  Leitner chuckled. “If you open that door and try to make a run for it, you’ll only solidify my case against you. I came here in good faith to take you to Berlin where you’ll get the opportunity to defend yourself. I didn’t bring an armed escort with me because I knew you wouldn’t want to disgrace your father and mother, or put them in harm’s way. And I didn’t arrest you last night because it would have presented an ugly scene to my men. Don’t make this any more difficult for yourself.”

  “You’re not taking my son anywhere,” Dieter said.

  Leitner flicked his eyes to Dieter then drew his pistol. “I would stay out of this, Herr Vogel, if I were you.”

  ******

  Max recalled writing no show next to the name of the Jewish woman that Leitner was referring to because it had seemed the logical thing to do. He hadn’t pieced together the fact that she was Paul’s Judith, and Leitner hadn’t raised an eyebrow at the time.

  Sweat rolled down Max’s forehead while he lay motionless on his stomach behind the bed imagining what might have happened had Leitner decided to arrest him during the night. Christ, he’d have disappeared without a trace leaving MI6 wondering what had happened to him, and his father and Paul being blindsided today.

  When he heard the familiar sound of a pistol being drawn, Max rehearsed his next move. He’d have to be lightning fast when he struck, for if the gun went off during a struggle, it would alert the whole bloody Inn, and possibly kill someone in the doing.

  He wriggled to the bottom edge of the bed and poked his head out. His brother had had the good sense to go to the door. Their father was in front and to the side of Paul, making Leitner face them with his back to Max’s hiding place.

  Max caught Dieter’s eye and nodded to the door. His father stepped back, as if to shield Paul, dramatically spreading his arms wide in defence.

  “Why are you doing this, Hauptsturmführer?” Dieter shook his head. “You’re a doctor, not a policeman. And even if you were, where’s your warrant?”

  Leitner, his pistol aimed at both men, sniggered again. “I don’t need a warrant. I am SS Hauptsturmführer August Leitner of the
Abwehr Intelligence Services. I am not a doctor, God forbid, and I don’t give a shit if your factory is important to the Interior Ministry, or to the Führer. People like your son subvert the law by shielding Jews when they are on our detention lists. That makes our job harder and goes against everything we are trying to achieve.” Leitner waved his pistol at Paul. “You knew that, didn’t you, Paul? The day you put on the uniform, I informed you of your duties and the importance of loyalty. But you, true to form, disobeyed and thumbed your nose at the authorities. You might have made a good doctor one day, but you’d never have made a decent soldier.”

  “Does Hans Rudolph know you’ve been spying on his hospital pretending to be a physician?”

  Leitner threw Dieter a pitying look. “Get out of the way. The evidence against your son is irrefutable, and you’ll only make things worse for him if you persist in protecting him.”

  Max got on his knees, then silently, to his feet. Leitner was lecturing Paul on the meaning of treason, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice, giving Max the chance to lunge at him from behind.

  Leitner, sensing a presence, spun straight into Max’s right hook. Dazed and unsteady, he dropped his pistol and stumbled backwards into Dieter. Dieter wrapped his arms around Leitner’s neck from behind and pulled him down. Both men toppled to the floor with Dieter slamming against the door, and his arms still encircling Leitner’s neck. Leitner, in a half-sitting position with his backside pressing on Dieter’s legs and his back against Dieter’s chest, was struggling to break free. Paul grabbed the gun which had skittered under the nearest bed, and gave it to Max.

  “Let go, Father. We’ve got him, “Max said.

  Paul gripped a handful of Leitner’s hair and jerked him off Dieter and onto the floor. Leitner squealed as the roots pulled out of his skull. Dieter, already on his feet drove his knee into Leitner’s back forcing him to lie on his stomach.

  “Father, hold him down. Paul, tie his wrists with your tie. Do it quickly.”