Dan Land and Luis Martin left after three days in Tampico-Alto. They had enjoyed their trip to the port city and Veracruz. Dan's last word as the two men left on the train back to Matamoros was, "Don't be surprised if Victoria shows up here in Tampico to see you!"
Fred stood for a long time watching the train disappear into the distance, his eyes misting with tears. He wanted to see his family, especially his sickly father. But, for the moment, he would have to wait patiently until he was legally freed, and in the meantime, do what he knew best—heal people.
CHAPTER 40
Fred returned to Krog-Stein-Mex the following week, pretending that nothing had happened, and kept working his normal days and hours at the laboratory under tight security. There were new people working whom he did not recognize. Hans was gone from his janitorial position and had not been seen for some time. There was a difference in attitude among the scientists and co-workers at the laboratory—a sense of restlessness and nervousness prompting each one of them not to say a word. Fred kept to himself and did his job. However, he suffered due to the cloud of suspicion he sensed under the watchful eyes of co-workers. Fred wisely said nothing.
At the end of this workday, he picked up his attaché case and left. He stopped at his mailbox and checked his mail, hoping for something from Texas. He picked up several Mexican newspapers and sat down at a busy sidewalk café and ordered coffee.
The headlines from the United States sensationalized the murder trial of Bruno Hauptman, who was accused of kidnapping and killing the baby son of aviator icon Charles Lindbergh. In other world news, Spain was in torment with the fighting between the Republicans and the rebel Nationalists destroying churches and killing nuns and priests. England was still trying to get over Edward's abdication to the throne of England. He married Wallis Simpson, in Paris, France, a woman married and divorced twice, creating a storm of controversy throughout the world.
Mexican reporters, who were learning of the problems in Europe, were becoming curious, especially with the threat coming from Germany. President Hindenburg had died the year before, and Hitler declared himself Fuhrer, the leader of the Third Reich. It did not take long for Hitler to take over Germany, arresting Communists, Socialists, and anyone who opposed his views by torturing and killing them; he also began burning books. His main concern was getting rid of the Jewish people as a race, blaming the Jews for all the problems of the world. With Hitler's view and orders, he started to convince the rest of the German people to think of themselves as the one white race—a superior race. He began giving orders to isolate the Jewish people and strip them of any civil rights. He removed them from any social or political activities, thus beginning the Nazi terror. This strategy would force them to close their businesses and starve; he branded them with the Star of David and separated them and displayed them like lambs. And, like lambs to the slaughter, they would all go.
Nazism was beginning to become evident in Mexico, too, as the swastika was brazenly displayed throughout the Krog-Stein-Mex Company.
While reading the news, it finally dawned on Fred that all the happenings with Hitler in Germany were also influencing his co-workers at the laboratory where he worked. They were all Germans.
Absorbed in his reading, and drinking a cup of coffee, he had his back to the busy street. He felt a tap on his shoulder. It startled him, and he looked around. There stood Hans like the angel of death. He was wearing a dark cap around his soft blond hair and his bright blue eyes portrayed a scared and worried look. He stood like a statue but was shaking with fright.
"Hans!" said Fred, getting up with a smile and extending his hand. "Have a seat. I haven't seen you for a while. Where have you been?" He gestured for Hans to sit down.
"I don't work there anymore," he said bluntly, taking a seat on the opposite side of the small round table. "And if you were smart, you would leave too."
Fred frowned "Why, Hans? What happened? Why did you leave?"
"They are doing things in that laboratory that are not human," he said. "Being a janitor, I was able to snoop around, and I heard things, and I saw it with my own eyes." He spoke as if he were horrified. "They are killing people in the East B laboratory where you work. The worst part is that they know I was aware of everything. The scientists are experimenting and giving injections to poor, homeless men who do not have families and no one to claim them. When they die, they take the body parts out of their bodies and put them into others. Some of the organs are being shipped to heaven knows where."
"Of course, that happens all the time in medicine. That's how I learned how to be a doctor. But organs being shipped out! Hmmm! Maybe they are being shipped out to Guadalajara, which is the largest medical hospital in Mexico doing research. That takes place in all hospitals," Fred assured him.
"Fred!" he said harshly. "Three weeks ago, I was getting my money envelope at the cash register. I had not informed them that it was my last week, so it was taking longer to get my money. I sat quietly on a low chair while I waited, and nobody saw me. I overheard the commander talking about you to three investigators in uniform. The conversation was about you being investigated."
"Oh!"
"They were saying that your last name was not the name you were using. That you were going by a false name. And that your real name was Juelson—and it was Jewish. They hate the Jews, you know. I'm part Jew myself, on my mother's side. They do not know that." He laughed as if the joke was on the Krog-Stein-Mex Company. "I have never been back, but I still have the keys to getting in and out of the laboratory. I want to give them to you. See for yourself. You might need them." He placed them on the table.
"So they know about me?" said Fred. "They know that my last name is Juelson?"
"I'd get the hell out of there real fast like I did," said Hans, nodding. "I have a job and started work on the shipping docks. I like it very much. And you could get a job anywhere in this city." Hans looked up and saw a dark car parked around the corner of Olmos and Díaz Street with its motor running.
"Hans, I haven't done anything! Why would I want to run?"
"They think you are a Jew, because of your last name! Don't you see what I mean? The Germans kill Jews!"
"That doesn't mean anything to me. I'm not Jewish. And this is Mexico, not Germany."
"For God sakes," Hans said. "You do not understand! Your name, silly, it's Jewish!"
Hans glanced over his shoulder and occasionally got close to Fred's face and whispered. Then suddenly, his face became paralyzed with fear, and he sat frozen for a minute in time.
"They're after me and have found me!" he said anxiously and stood up. "He quickly lowered his head, trying to hide his face under the bill of his dark cap, and dashed off down the busy sidewalk, getting lost in the crowd.
"Wait!" Fred said, surprised. "Who? Who's after you?" He noticed the car begin to move and follow Hans as he hurried down the sidewalk. Fred managed to glance at the license plate, but only got MM8021 and could not get the rest of the numbers before the vehicle disappeared in traffic. He noticed the keys belonging to the Krog-Stein-Mex Company lying on the table. He picked them up and put them in his attaché case.
On the way to the Terán's home, Fred had time to think and wonder what the real truth was behind Hans' story. He knew that Hans seemed genuinely interested in their friendship and would not have given him the keys otherwise. Full of concern, his thoughts took a different twist—he wondered what was going on in laboratory B at the back of the main building. It was the building that only authorized people were allowed to enter. He had the keys, and in the coming weeks, he might be able to see for himself.
Fred found Dr. and Señora Terán excited when he reached their home. Dr. Terán had been offered a better paying medical job in Mexico City, which pleased la Señora, being close to her parents.
"Imagine, I'll be making double the amount in Mexico City, and I'll have the chance to get my degree, specializing as a heart surgeon. It will complete my heart's desire!" He laughed at his
joke and could see that Señora Terán was thrilled by the news.
Fred was happy for the couple, but he explained about the events that had taken place that day. He told them of Hans, how scared he was, and the keys. Their facial expressions went from joyous to one of concern.
Dr. Terán said, "I'm going to try and get my money back from Krog-Stein-Mex Company before I leave for Mexico City. I've been getting, an uncomfortable feeling about them. I think there is something terrible going on—people are talking. I've had workers and other investors talking about the foreign company, and they do not seem pleased. There's talk about the Germans and their Fuhrer. You might have to travel with us to Mexico City, Fred, and—" He stopped in the middle of his sentence as a thought came to him. "Quit!" he blurted out. "Leave Krog-Stein-Mex Company and come with us! I'll find you a job in the clinics in Mexico City! And bring Dolores, she'll love the capital. Who knows, we may be in for some rough times ahead, especially living so close to a port city."
Later that evening, Fred returned to Tampico-Alto. He was happy to be home with Dolores and her affable family and glad to see his patients. When the couple was alone, Fred began explaining the events of the day and the reason he would have to leave the German company. He asked Dolores if she would want to live with him in Mexico City.
Shaking her head, she replied, "I cannot leave my parents. Mother is at an age where she needs all of my attention, and she needs help raising the rest of the children." She went on making excuses. The fact was that Dolores was fiercely independent within her own class of people, but she felt awkward in social settings with higher-up groups of society and did not want to leave her home base. The strong family bond forbade her leaving her parents, and leaving her church and her familiar surroundings was out of the question.
"Then the wedding will have to wait."
In the following weeks, Dr. Terán, in the middle of packing his medical supplies, kept hounding Fred to leave with them for the capital.
Fred, in turn, tried to convince Dolores to travel with him to Mexico City. But Dolores was adamant. She did not want to leave her parents.
Fred teased her, "If I leave, I may not be back."
Dolores laughed, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Go, see if I care."
Headlines in the Tampico newspaper soon reported that a body had been found along the Laguna de Tamiahua shoreline. Later it was revealed the body was that of Hans. It made the hair on the back of Fred's neck stand up and brought a chill of fear.
At Krog-Stein-Mex Company, Fred, still distressed, wondered who had killed Hans and why? Was it that Hans knew too much about the German company? Why was Hans so scared, and what did the black car that was following him want from him? Millions of questions were going through his mind. He wished he would have gotten more information from Hans at the sidewalk cafe. The keys were in his attaché case, and he had already gotten paid for the week. His curiosity soon won out. Lucky for him, the majority of the Germans were celebrating Stein's birthday, and all were in the main conference room with a large cake and ice cream.
At certain times of the day, when the guards changed positions and were gone for an hour or so, it was the perfect time to walk down the long corridor unnoticed. Glancing both ways, Fred was able to enter laboratory B with the keys that Hans had given him, and to his amazement, the room was empty, without a soul working. Inside there were counters with glass containers full of liquid drugs and powders and papers in German handwriting on the findings and conclusions of the experimental research. There were hundreds of glass bottles sitting on the counters, and inside were dead fetuses and human brains. Apparently, experiments were being conducted to help improve care in pregnancy, and in the human brain, perhaps to help neurotic or psychiatric problems. Where are they getting all of these? The Germans must be paying the surrounding hospitals to provide them with everything, Fred thought.
There were cages of live tropical birds, rabbits, white rats, snakes, and mice. He stood in shock for several minutes and viewed all of this and then, from a room further inside, he heard a strange noise and headed to investigate. The door was open, but he was being lured by an odor that was overwhelming.
Inside were three men, and two were moaning. By the look of the clothes they wore and by the fetid smell, they were probably homeless bums. All three sat next to the wall and were hooked into some kind of wiring. One was getting a white transparent liquid put into his veins from a machine that was plugged into the wall. When they saw Fred walk in, one screamed in fear. The other one began begging. "Please help me!" he said, his voice hoarse from wailing.
Horrified at these inhumane acts, Fred looked stricken and checked the contents of the liquid to see what was being put into their bodies. He was correct in guessing one of the chemicals. The man who was unconscious was being given Curare, which was deadly if given too much. They were doing human experiments to see how much Curare it would require dying! The other live one was being injected with liquid penicillin, used for infection or venereal disease. Fred's heart pounded from fear, but he quickly unplugged each man. He touched the throat pulse on the man who was limp and decided he was already dead. He had been given a chemical warfare poison. Hans was right, he told himself in abhorrence. He had to act quickly. Finding bandages on the shelves, he wrapped them around the two men's arms to stop the bleeding.
He faced the two bums who were startled and shaky. They seemed grateful, and he repeated in a whispering tone for them to be quiet while they got away. "Come with me and I will drive you to the nearest police station," he said softly. They nodded and picked themselves up, as they were willing to do anything to get away from the torturing hell.
While he was still in B laboratory, Fred gathered up as many of the papers that contained scribbled information as he could and stuffed them in his attaché case. He took bottles of pills and powders, and all of the written information on certain drugs and put them in his side pockets. He got the other two men, now standing, to help him gather some of the written manuscripts for them to take with them as evidence. He picked up his attaché case, and the three took off down the hallway and out the exit doors. Luckily, no one saw them leave. He did not care since he had become convinced since Hans' death that this would be his last day there. His feeling of outrage against the German company and their greed was enough for him to end his employment. There were many other places he could work.
It was a twenty-minute drive to the downtown police station in the middle of Tampico. Down the road, Fred's hands and body shook like Mexican jumping beans as he gripped the steering wheel of the car. He was still reeling from the horrible laboratory incident and the experiments being conducted. The two men told their story as he drove. One was sitting in the front and the other in the back. The odiferous bum in front was the most talkative. Fred lowered the window on his side to get a whiff of fresh air. The smell was overwhelming; apparently, they had both crapped and peed in their pants. How many times, he dared not ask.
The bum in the front seat was named Adán. He had a large mouth displaying missing front teeth. The one in the back was Pedro. He was short and stocky, with dark hair and blazing black eyes. They never revealed their last names. They did not know the name of the one who had died in the laboratory, for they had never gotten formally acquainted.
According to the story, the poor souls told, two individuals in a black car had offered them money to assist in laboratory drug testing. Being destitute, the three had enthusiastically complied, seeing it as an opportunity. The mysterious individuals had promised them cocaine and morphine to satisfy their addictions. They were told that after a couple of days testing, they would be released back into society and get paid.
What the two individuals in the black car did not tell them was that there were certain dangerous risks in this type of adventure, and they might never live to tell anyone. It was true that the Krog-Stein-Mex Company was doing research; however, the three individuals were drug addicts, and the German company was kn
own in the city of Tampico as doing research only with herbs and plants. Apparently, Krog-Stein-Mex Company had hired the two individuals to lure bums to conduct illegal, clandestine scientific research without anybody knowing the results. The unknown characters in the black car were being paid under the table for each bum they enticed and dragged in. If they died, it was unfortunate—their bodies were disposed of secretly.
Raging mad, Fred was disgusted by the Germans—cowardly brutes doing this to poor illiterate people, desperate to survive. He was also thinking of himself and his own future since he was still a fugitive and had not been cleared within the United States. Walking into the policía with the two bums and the German papers would stir questions; however, it had to be done. Krog-Stein-Mex Company had to be exposed. He had to sacrifice to stand up for what was right.
After the two men hurriedly showered and shaved in a downtown flophouse and had their clothes washed and dried, they ate a quick meal from a sidewalk taco stand. Several hours later, they walked into the headquarters of el Estación de Policía.
The old, ratty, brick building had been a government compound during the Díaz regime, but now maintained one hundred uniformed policemen on the busy downtown streets, where train stations and trolley cars, buses, trucks, and cars ran through its noisy, clogged streets. Fumes of crude gasoline and burning oil infiltrated lungs and nostrils. Everywhere tall billboards showed pictures of a pretty, smiling lady drinking Coca-Cola, and others displayed several cowboys smoking Camel or Lucky Strike cigarettes.
Strange people scurried in and out of the old, dark police building. The odor of stale cigarettes and smoke filled the rooms, as noisy chattering echoed throughout the entire building. Hysterical people were talking loudly; others were crying; phones rang, and manual typewriters were busy clicking away in closed rooms.
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