The Girl from Berlin: Gruppenführer's Mistress

by Ellie Midwood

  “Umm, I’m not sure. I did have them with me… Oh, that’s right, I was! I put them on right after I finished smoking on the platform.”

  Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner’s eyes sparkled.

  “And Frau Friedmann? Was she wearing gloves?”

  “No, she wasn’t. I remember it so well because I made fun of her cross that she always wears on her wrist. I told her that her husband converted her into Catholicism faster than he would convert a Jew before Kristallnacht.”

  Dr. Kaltenbrunner chuckled at the racist joke. He was in a relatively good mood now.

  “That’ll be all, Hauptsturmführer Stern. Go back to work, you’ve been very helpful.”

  After giving a salute to Gruppenführer, Max looked indecisively in my direction.

  “Is Annalise in some kind of trouble?”

  “It’s still difficult to say.”

  Max looked at me once again and left the room. I was left one on one with Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner. I was waiting for him to speak first.

  “Well, that was a good one, Frau Friedmann. A woman with the suspicious suitcase. Proven by an unrelated witness from SD. I don’t know how you do it, but I must admit, I admire you.”

  “I’m innocent, that’s all.”

  “Are you really?”

  “I can’t prove it beyond the point that I just did, Herr Gruppenführer.”

  “Oh, allow me to disagree with you. There’s one very simple test that always makes even the most stubborn people tell the truth.”

  Everything tightened inside of me as he slowly got up from his chair, took his service dagger out and walked behind my back. I decided not to breathe just in case, frozen in my seat with sweaty palms resting on my knees and a rapidly beating heart. He leaned his tall body over me until his face was next to my shoulder and pressed the cold steel of the dagger to my neck.

  “Let’s try this again. Do you have anything to do with the Resistance?”

  “No.”

  “I’m not convinced.” He started to turn the dagger from the flat side to the sharper one, the edge of it slightly cutting into my skin. “Try again.”

  “I’ve already told you, no!”

  Every word I pronounced was hurting because of the sharp metal pressing hard against my throat. He turned it a little more and I felt how a thin streak of blood started slowly moving down to my chest.

  “Strike two, as our American friends say. Last chance, sugar.”

  I knew how it worked. During the first two times he would ask them, the interrogated people would keep to their version, but on the third time they would start speaking the truth. The chance that he could slit my throat was fifty-fifty, and I had to think of something that would make Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner break the traditional pattern.

  I turned my head to him and slightly pulled forward, looking him straight in the eye. His brow furrowed, but the steel of the dagger wasn’t pressing too hard into my neck anymore. I leaned even closer to him, slowly raised my hand to the back of his neck and, terrified inside and hardly breathing, slightly touched his lips with mine. Dr. Kaltenbrunner didn’t move. I moved a little closer almost cutting my own neck, and pressed my mouth harder to his, praying to God that he wouldn’t push me away. He didn’t. I held the back of his neck stronger, so he wouldn’t feel that my hands were shaking. My heart was beating so loud that I could hear it even inside my head. I finally understood what the expression ‘to walk on a sword’s blade’ meant: that’s exactly what I was doing right now, with another, actual blade still across my neck. I closed my eyes and kissed him again, more persistently, desperately hoping inside that it would work.

  Suddenly the leader of the Austrian SS grabbed me by my braid and pulled it down, making me bend my head backwards. He dropped his dagger on my knees and pressed his mouth hard against mine, making me open my lips and forcing his tongue inside. I didn’t push him away, on the contrary, I was looking to meet his every move, even though his grip on my hair was very painful. My fingers brushed the dagger laying on my knees, but just for a second; I moved my hands to his neck and pulled him even closer.

  He bit my lip to hurt me, but I kissed him again; he pulled my hair harder, but I just gently placed both of my hands on his face. He soon got tired of fighting me, meeting no resistance at all. He let go of my hair and was holding me by the back of my neck, not hard, just enough to keep my face close to him. He wasn’t rough with me anymore, just still very insistent and hungry. I was finally giving him what he was so long waiting for, and he was readily taking it from me.

  I started thinking that he would want to go all the way; after all how was I different from all the other women he had probably raped in these same Gestapo interrogation rooms? But surprisingly he stopped kissing me before I even had a chance to put up with my fate. He let go of my neck and picked up the dagger still laying untouched on my knees. I could have easily stabbed him with it, and he knew it. He grinned at me, very differently this time.

  “Congratulations, Frau Friedmann. You passed your test.”

  Chapter 4

  When Gruppenführer Müller came back to follow up on the course of the investigation, Dr. Kaltenbrunner surprised him by saying that he was sure of my innocence, and that the presence of my fingerprints on the suitcase with the radio was purely coincidental.

  “The suitcase belongs to the woman who Frau Friedmann and another SD officer, Hauptsturmführer Max Stern, by chance saw on the train. I’m convinced that it was her, who your agents saw leaving the building, from which that man that you’re currently interrogating was trying to transmit messages.”

  The Chief of our Gestapo was staring at the Chief of the Austrian Gestapo for some time, and then finally spoke again.

  “I absolutely trust your professional opinion, Herr Gruppenführer, but in a case like this it would be better if the suspect had some kind of an alibi, if you know what I mean. After all, her fingerprints are on the suitcase.”

  Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner frowned.

  “Well, let’s see if she does. What timeframe are we talking about?”

  “Last Sunday afternoon.”

  They both turned to me. For a second I didn’t know what I should say: I could have said that I was having tea with my friends after the mass (and if asked, I knew that they would have confirmed it), but at the same time I had big doubts if I should drag them into this at all.

  “Frau Friedmann?” Dr. Kaltenbrunner asked impatiently. Less than anything I wanted to see him angry again.

  “I was with my husband and friends all afternoon. We were having tea by their house after the Sunday mass. They go to the same church as we do.”

  “Can we have your friends’ names, address and phone number, if they have one?” Gruppenführer Müller asked.

  “Yes, of course. Rudolf and Ingrid von Werner, they live in a townhouse on Blumenstrasse, right next to the bank, Rudolf works there. I don’t remember the number of their house unfortunately, but you can ask my husband, he has a better memory than I do.” I tried to smile at them. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember their phone number either.”

  “Don’t worry about it, we’ll find them.” Heinrich Müller smiled back at me. I was sure that they would, and very soon.

  “How’s the interrogation of the radio operator going?” Dr. Kaltenbrunner asked his colleague in the meantime.

  “Not so well.” Müller cringed a little. “Looks like the boy is pretty determined to take all his secrets to the grave. Keeps denying that he knows the woman who gave him the suitcase, insists that he doesn’t know the code for the messages, doesn’t say who his connection is… Our agents tried almost everything already, but the answer is still the same.”

  “That’s a shame.” Dr. Kaltenbrunner concluded.

  “Maybe you could talk to him?” Müller suggested with a smile. “I’ve heard that you are pretty good at getting information out of even the most hopeless ones.”

  Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner chuckled. “Maybe I co
uld.”

  “What shall we do to the girl?”

  “Nothing. Leave her here till you confirm her alibi, which I’m sure will be no problem at all, and then all you have to do is to let her go and apologize for the inconvenience.”

  They both looked at me again. I was thinking about Adam and what they had been possibly doing to him for the past two days.

  “Alright.” Gruppenführer Müller finally nodded. “Let’s go pay a visit to the boy then.”

  They left me alone. I put my hands on the table and rested my forehead on them. It looked like I got myself and people around me in such big trouble, and I had no idea how we all would get out of it.

  _______________

  They were gone for so long that I fell asleep. I woke up at the sound of the door opening, but instead of the two generals an SS guard walked in with a little tray with food and water on it, put it on the table in front of me and left. I was very much surprised by such a gesture, but still didn’t touch the food: first of all, chewing on a sandwich with cyanide in your mouth is a pretty dangerous thing to do, and second, nerves completely killed my appetite, and I wouldn’t be able to stuff anything in my mouth even if I wanted to. The mug of water on the contrary I drank with gratitude.

  Before an SS guard could pick up the tray, Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner came back with wide smile on his face.

  “Frau Friedmann, I’m very glad to inform you that all the charges against you have been dropped.”

  I straightened in my chair. So Rudolf and Ingrid did confirm my alibi. How mad Ingrid must be that I even mentioned their name! She’ll definitely let me have it when I see her next time.

  “So… can I go now?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.” He was leaning on the door with his arms crossed over his chest and still smiling at me. For some reason I didn’t like that smile of his. “I have some other plans for you.”

  Whatever it was, it didn’t sound too good. I started to get nervous again.

  “What plans, Herr Gruppenführer?”

  “I need your professional services as a stenographer, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Stenographer? What the hell is he talking about?

  “Sure… What do I have to write down?”

  “An interrogation.”

  I was looking at him with my eyes wide open.

  “You’re not actually suggesting that I will be in the same room while you…”

  He smirked.

  “While I’m what? Will be torturing that guy? What kind of a sick person do you think I am? I’m not going to torture anybody. We’ll just talk.”

  “But why me? You can have any stenographer from Amt IV, they specialize in that. I would really rather not do it.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Frau Friedmann. You see, while Gruppenführer Müller was giving me the personal profile information on our radio guy, a very interesting fact surfaced.” He paused for a second looking me straight in the eye. “He knows you.”

  “He knows me?” I asked carefully, still not sure of what he was leading toward with that comment.

  “Yes,” Dr. Kaltenbrunner answered not without pleasure. “I have a very good memory. You have to have a good memory if you’re a lawyer, you know? So when Herr Müller told me that boy’s name, I thought to myself, ‘Wait, I’ve heard it somewhere before.’ But when I read his previous employment history from the file, all the pieces of the puzzle finally came together.”

  “I’m not sure I understand, Herr Gruppenführer.”

  “His name is Adam Kramer. Sounds familiar?”

  So Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner knew who Adam was. The question remained if he knew about our current and very illegal affairs.

  “That was the name of my former dancing partner. But he emigrated to the United States four years ago. How can he be in Berlin?”

  “I guess he came back.”

  “But why?”

  “I have a theory why, but whether I’m right or wrong we’re going to find out very soon. Let’s go.”

  _______________

  As I was following Dr. Kaltenbrunner through the labyrinth of hallways, I was trembling inside at the thought of what they could have already done to poor Adam. But when we approached the room the door to which an SS guard started to open, I all of a sudden couldn’t make another step and just stood in front of it, till Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner had to take me by my elbow and almost drag me inside.

  I understood why we had to go so far: my interrogation room was in fact a pre-interrogation room, where only the questioning took place. This one was designed for getting every single word out of a suspect, and all the instruments on the side table looked terrifying enough for anybody to start speaking even prior to his executors using them. I still had no idea how my brave Adam managed to keep quiet for so long. I finally found the strength to lift up my eyes to his motionless figure in the corner of the room, sitting handcuffed to the chair with his head hanging low. I couldn’t see his face, but his white shirt was soaked in blood. I looked away again, trying my best not to start crying. I didn’t remember being so scared in my life before.

  “Hey! Jew-boy! Wake up! You have a visitor.” Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner called out Adam.

  Adam didn’t move. He was so still that for a second I thought that he was dead. But Dr. Kaltenbrunner obviously thought differently: he picked up a glass of water from the table that the interrogators most likely kept for themselves, made two steps towards Adam and splashed its contents into his face. Adam jerked his head and finally looked up; I wished that he didn’t. I covered my mouth at the ugly sight of what those Gestapo bastards did to him: one of his eyes was almost completely closed, his nose was definitely broken and still bleeding, his lips were split in several places and the rest of his face was covered in hematomas and bruises.

  My poor boy, my poor Adam, what did they do to you? Why did they have to catch you? I have just lost my brother, now I’m going to lose you as well?

  “Hey!” Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner snapped his fingers in front of Adam’s eyes, making him focus his gaze. “Do you recognize her? Don’t look at me, look at the girl. Do you know her, yes or know?”

  Adam slowly shifted his eyes from the tall Austrian in front of him to me and the horror reflected on his face; he obviously didn’t know that they were interrogating me as well, or thought that they hadn’t started yet. I was standing behind Dr. Kaltenbrunner and he couldn’t see me, so I silently nodded at Adam, hoping that he would get my hint. He did.

  “Yes. We used to dance in the same company several years ago.” He pronounced in a raspy voice. I suddenly realized that the water was yet another means of torture for the heartless Gestapo agents: they wouldn’t let inmates drink on purpose, and leave the glass full of water on the table right in front of their eyes but out of their reach in the hope that it would break them.

  “And what happened then?”

  “Then I had to leave the country.”

  “And why did you come back?”

  “I wanted to help the ones who stayed.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Adam looked at Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner with confusion, and so did I. Meanwhile he pulled up a chair for me at the table across from which Adam was sitting and nudged me to it.

  “Have a seat, Frau Friedmann. Here’s a notepad and a pencil, and in the course of interrogation I’ll tell you what I want you to write down.”

  Concern on Adam’s face quickly changed to disbelief.

  “What is she doing here? She’s not going to stay to see all this, is she?”

  “She is here to help me.” Dr. Kaltenbrunner sat on another chair not far from me and put his long legs in shining black boots on the table. “And she will stay until you tell me everything I want to know.”

  “Please… don’t do it in front of her,” Adam begged quietly.

  “Do what?” Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner smiled at him. “Do you think
I’m going to beat you up? How about this: I’m not going to touch a hair on your head and you’ll still tell me who you’re working for and with. How does that sound?”

  Hard to believe, I thought, that’s how it sounds. It seemed like Adam thought the same and frowned.

  “You’re thinking how it is possible, aren’t you? You see, I’m very good at this. The interrogation process, I mean. And I know that sometimes all you need is to find one soft spot that will make people talk like it’s their last confession. Sometimes it’s the physical spot; but sometimes it’s an emotional one. And I think I found yours.”

  With those words Dr. Kaltenbrunner took his gun out, aimed at my forehead and took the safety off. I froze in my place afraid to move, but Adam pulled forward in his chair as far as his handcuffs allowed.

  “No, don’t!”

  “Aha. I guess I was right, wasn’t I?” The leader of the Austrian SS laughed and put the gun back into the holster. “Don’t worry, Jew-boy, I wouldn’t shoot her. She’s my very good friend, and if something happened to her, I would get very upset.”

  Right, I thought. You would. It’s the second time that you’re putting a lethal weapon to my head today, and for some reason this fact makes me really doubt that last statement of yours!

  “But you just showed me, even though unwillingly, that if something happened to her, you would get very upset too. Am I right?”

  He was looking at Adam without blinking, and I suddenly didn’t like where he was going with this. Adam kept silent, so Dr. Kaltenbrunner got up from his chair and walked behind my back.

  “I think I know the real reason why you came back to Germany. Do you want me to share my suggestion with you?” Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner addressed Adam. Adam didn’t reply, so he continued. “I think you came back because of her.”

  He put his hands on my shoulders. Adam frowned.

  “I think you came back because you couldn’t stay away from her. All the national pride of yours and the desire to help your people, I don’t buy it. She is the main reason why you’re here.” He slightly squeezed my shoulders and pulled me to the back of the chair. “As a matter of fact, I think you’re in love with her.”