The Girl from Berlin: Gruppenführer's Mistress

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The Girl from Berlin: Gruppenführer's Mistress Page 19

by Ellie Midwood


  Now that the first shock and anger had passed, I settled down with my coffee in Heinrich’s study and started thinking. Who would want to hurt us? Or just me? Because if they were watching our house in order to get inside unnoticed, they must have known that Heinrich was away for several days. And they killed Milo, my old dog, not Rolf who Heinrich and I got together after we got married. The more I was thinking about it, the more I was sure: that message was meant for me alone. Somebody wanted me dead. ‘R.’

  Who was that ‘R.’? Gruppenführer Müller’s opinion that the threat was related to someone from the Resistance I put aside right away. The Chief of the Gestapo suggested that the members of the Underground movement wanted Heinrich and me dead because we both worked for the RSHA. Little did Gruppenführer know that we both also worked with the Resistance as well, and they definitely wouldn’t want to kill people who were fighting on their side.

  The first name that came to my mind was Ulrich Reinhard. He had never hidden how much he hated me for ‘hurting his career’ after he’d attacked me in my theatre and I’d told my future husband about it. He even promised me that he wouldn’t stop until he destroyed me, his exact words. But would he really sneak in my backyard to kill my dog? It seemed very improbable. I knew him too well: he would have sneaked in my bedroom and slit my throat instead.

  After another ten minutes of staring at the blank piece of paper in front of me on which I was supposed to put all the people whose name started with R that I knew, I realized that I didn’t know anyone too close who would fit the criteria. Unless Reinhard Heydrich came back from the dead and decided to revenge me for his assassination. I chuckled, but then suddenly got serious. What if someone knew? Someone close to him who wanted revenge but for some reason couldn’t do it openly? His wife? No, impossible. A woman wouldn’t be able to hurt an animal so cold heartedly. A family member? Brother? No. How would they possibly know? Only Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner and I knew. What if he told someone? Got drunk and bragged about it to one of his girlfriends? No, he wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t risk his own life like that.

  Who else could it be then? A loud knock on the door made me jump in my seat, but I quickly regained my composure and went to open it. Killers never knock, and I had four armed Gestapo agents near my house, whose favorite pastime was shooting people in the head. If they let someone through, they were sure that it was safe. I was hoping that it was Max, who promised my worried sick husband to come by after work to check on me. Being alone in the huge house knowing that someone out there could be watching me was terrifying.

  But it wasn’t Max. It was Dr. Kaltenbrunner, and he let himself in without asking for my permission.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier, I was at the Reich Chancellery all day, and Müller only told me about what happened when I stopped by the office to pick up the paperwork. Are you alright?”

  “Someone killed my dog and wrote ‘You’re next’ in blood next to it. Can I possibly be alright?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” He lowered his eyes to the floor. “I meant to ask if anybody hurt you.”

  “Still have some black and blues on both wrists, but apart from that, totally fine.”

  I was fighting the urge to slap him once again, but decided that my sarcastic tone should be enough for now. He seemed to be very concerned about my well-being after all.

  “I am terribly sorry about that, Frau Friedmann.” I saw him looking at my arms, crossed over my chest, but he decided against taking them in his to inspect the very superficial injuries he’d put there. “I never wanted to hurt you. You are too dear to me. I always wanted to protect you from everybody else.”

  I looked away. He actually did. First from the Gestapo who wanted to send me to the camp after my former colleague from the same dancing company saw me wearing a Star of David; then from the same Gestapo when they almost caught me with the radio in Poland, then from Ulrich Reinhard, who was threatening me in the dark hallway of the RSHA; he helped me to organize the assassination on Heydrich…

  “But I can’t protect you from myself.” Dr. Kaltenbrunner put his hand in the inner pocket of his coat and handed me a folded piece of paper. “I signed your request for resignation, but you’ll still be getting your salary for the excellent service as long as I’m in the office.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, you deserve it. That’s the least I can do for you after all you’ve done for me. Schellenberg was right about you, you really are an irreplaceable assistant. And I went and screwed it all up.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I’m sorry. About everything. Well, I won’t be bothering you anymore, I know that you want to be left alone, and… I deserved it. I just stopped by to make sure you were guarded well, and that you have everything you need. I already told Gruppenführer Müller about the importance of this case, and I’ll keep an eye on it personally. I promise you, I’ll find the people who did it. And I’m very sorry about your little friend.”

  I was trying to stay firm, but his sad eyes and soft voice started to get to me again. It was not the cruel Chief of the sinister RSHA who was standing in front of me now, but the real Dr. Kaltenbrunner, the intelligent and respectful person he would have been if it wasn’t for the war and his position in SS.

  He nodded at me and went to the door.

  “Wait.” Goddamn it, what am I doing? “If you want to, you could stay for a couple of minutes so I can tell you my thoughts about… the investigation, and… who I think might have done it…”

  He accepted my invitation with visible pleasure.

  “I’d be happy to, Frau Friedmann.”

  A couple of minutes turned into a couple of hours, during which we both drank an amount of coffee that could kill a horse (I offered Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner a drink, but he politely refused), and officially ran out of suspects. Max, who came by like he promised, was more than surprised to see my chief sitting in my living room, and wisely left us alone. He figured if the Chief of the RSHA himself was with me, I was more than safe.

  When it was time for Dr. Kaltenbrunner to finally leave, he warmly thanked me for the coffee and my hospitality, and at the door said, “Don’t get stuck on that ‘R.’, Frau Friedmann. It could be anyone. But don’t worry about anything, you’re safe here. And take this also.” He took out a little notepad and a pencil he always carried with him and wrote something on it. “It’s my home number. Don’t hesitate to call me if you think you might be in danger.”

  I took the paper from his hand and nodded.

  “Thank you, Herr Gruppenführer.”

  He smiled at me once again and left, the Gestapo agent freezing at attention as the Chief of the RSHA passed him by. Dr. Kaltenbrunner stopped for a second and said something to him, making the man click his heels and loudly answer “Jawohl, Herr Gruppenführer!” I closed the door.

  _______________

  “Poor old buddy Milo. I got so attached to him. But this one is just a ball of joy!” Heinrich picked up the little white Maltese puppy still wearing a pink bow on her neck. “It’s a nice thing he did.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  A day before my husband’s return Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner stopped by to check on me and to tell me about how the investigation was going. It was pouring outside when I opened the front door to him, and noticed that he was holding something inside his coat.

  “I thought that you must be grieving a lot about your old friend. So I brought you a new one.” He smiled at me and produced a little white pup with a little pink bow around its neck from under his wet coat.

  “Oh!” She seemed so tiny in his hands, and I carefully took her in mine. “She’s absolutely adorable! What’s her name?”

  “She doesn’t have a name yet. You’ll have to name her yourself.”

  I pressed the little shivering ball of fur to my chest and rubbed her behind the ear.

  “You are just too sweet, aren’t you? Such a sweet lit
tle girl should have a sweet name. How about Sugar? Do you like it?” The puppy licked my hand. “I think you do! And what does nice Herr Gruppenführer, who brought you, think?”

  “I think it’s a great name.” Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner smiled at me.

  The next day when Hanz and I were picking up Heinrich from the military airport, I brought Sugar with me. My husband immediately fell in love with her, and the two became almost inseparable. Sugar was even allowed to sleep in our bed, because according to Heinrich ‘it was only April, and the poor girl would freeze to death in her bed.’

  Heinrich never found out about what happened between me and Dr. Kaltenbrunner, nor of my resignation request, which I burned after giving it a thorough thought. I was working for the counterintelligence after all, and my position allowed me to have access to top secret information. I didn’t want to take it away from the people who were counting on me. As for my boss, I was hoping that the situation wouldn’t repeat itself. Even though Ursula kept shaking her head disapprovingly, hoping was all I could do.

  “Why do you keep forgiving him?” Ursula scorned me after I informed her of my decision to keep my position. “He’ll start thinking that he can get away with anything and will keep doing it more.”

  I would shrug and look away. Even if I had tried to explain to her my thoughts on the matter, she possibly wouldn’t be able to understand. The problem with Dr. Kaltenbrunner was that he was too used to women falling at his feet during the first ten minutes of meeting him, and when the first one – me – rejected his advances, he didn’t really know how to react to it. He simply lost his patience and decided to use force when nothing else seemed to work.

  “I know it’s hard to believe, but there was nothing malicious about his behavior.” I gave Ursula a guilty smile. “He’s just like one of those ‘tough’ boys we used to have in our class, who would start yanking your braids and pulling up your skirt when they want to attract your attention but don’t know how to.”

  “Are you seriously trying to justify that evil man’s behavior?”

  “I am not, I’m just saying that he’s not evil. He’s stubborn, impatient and very, very spoiled by women’s attention, but not evil.”

  “You’re justifying him.”

  “He was drunk. He apologized.”

  “Justifying even more now.”

  “He brought me a puppy. He feels guilty. Evil people don’t feel guilty about anything.”

  “That attitude of yours is not going to take you anywhere good.”

  Heinrich clearing his throat distracted me from my thoughts.

  “We have to go to bed early tonight. Our plane leaves at 7 am sharp. I don’t think your boss will be happy if we are late.” Heinrich fed another piece of biscuit to Sugar while Rolf, sitting beside him, let out a little cry pointing out that he was still a member of the family and liked biscuits too. “You’re a big boy, big boys don’t eat sweets.”

  I smiled at the sight of him talking to the dogs, and thought about what a wonderful father he would make one day. What a wonderful father he would have been if we hadn’t lost our baby. It didn’t hurt as much as it did a year ago, but I knew that such wounds never completely heal. I decided to change the course my thoughts were taking.

  “I don’t even know how my boss will get up this early. Judging by the time he comes to work every morning, he’s not an early riser.”

  “I still don’t understand why he decided to delegate this to me. It’s far from my department’s usual sphere of activity.”

  I shrugged as if I didn’t know why Dr. Kaltenbrunner was taking my husband with us to Poland to assist him in taking the situation with the Warsaw ghetto under control. It was a part of our new deal: I go back to work and even accompany Dr. Kaltenbrunner on his trips just like I did with Standartenführer Schellenberg. In return he keeps his hands to himself, and lets my husband come with us when it wouldn’t interfere with his duties in his department. This way I would at least feel safe in Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner’s company. The next morning we were leaving on our first trip.

  “He thinks that of the whole SD-Ausland you’re one of the most intelligent agents with a cold, analytical mind. Exactly the person he needs for such a job: to evaluate the situation, to consider all the options and to help him come to the best decision.”

  “Best decision? With the way everything goes, there’s only one decision left: completely clean the ghetto out. Those damn rebels won’t give up.”

  Heinrich looked at me and shook his head, silently condemning the way his office would most likely handle the uprising. For a couple of years already we haven’t spoken openly about anything compromising within the walls of our house, since the Gestapo would sometimes randomly install listening devices in the residences of even the Party’s most trusted members. Goering himself hadn’t escaped such a fate, and was spitting fire at Himmler and Heydrich’s direction for more than a month after finding a microphone in his study. Therefore whispering into each other’s ear and writing notes were our means of communication for quite a long time now. Otherwise, we spoke of matters just like two devoted Nazis.

  “Yes, I know.” I looked at the floor thinking of the rebels’ fate and the ways we maybe could get at least some people out. “You’re right, let’s go to bed early. We have a big day tomorrow.”

  Chapter 12

  Warsaw, April 1943

  I was sending radiograms to Reichsführer’s and Gruppenführer Müller’s offices, previously dictated to me by Dr. Kaltenbrunner in his car. I was alone in his temporary office here in Warsaw: neither he, nor Heinrich came back up yet, after a Gestapo agent rushed to my chief in the hallway and in a quiet voice reported something to him. Gruppenführer Kaltenbrunner frowned and followed him, leaving me, Heinrich and Georg alone without any explanation. The latter two shrugged and comfortably positioned themselves in two chairs, still discussing the inspection of the ghetto. I decided not to waste time and send radiograms. Georg handed me the keys from Dr. Kaltenbrunner’s office and returned to the conversation.

  I was done with the radiograms in ten minutes. Another thirty passed, and I started to think that the men must have gone to lunch and forgotten about me, even though Heinrich said they’d call me if they were going to leave. I could have gone downstairs and sat with them, but conversations about what weapons and machinery to better use to take over the ghetto weren’t something I wanted to hear. I didn’t know how Heinrich was holding so well, but again, he’d been doing it for years and was a great actor.

  I was resting my head on one hand and playing with a pencil with another, when I heard Dr. Kaltenbrunner’s steps in the anteroom. I immediately straightened out and put Reichsführer’s and Gruppenführer Müller’s replies neatly together, waiting for my boss to come in and give me further instructions. However, when he opened the door, I hardly contained myself from a yelp; the Chief of the RSHA was covered in blood, which stained his grey field SD uniform, collar of his shirt and even left several dots and streaks on his face. But the worst part of this frightful picture was his hands, which were all covered in red, the blood soaking the cuffs of his shirt completely. He froze in the doorway, looking at me like a criminal caught on the spot.

  “What happened to you?” I jumped from my chair and rushed to him, but he stopped me halfway stretching his hand in front of him.

  “Nothing. What are you doing here? Go downstairs.”

  Dr. Kaltenbrunner quickly turned his back to me and opened the door to the bathroom. I followed him inside.

  “Did you cut yourself?”

  “No. I told you to go downstairs. Go away.”

  I ignored his order and stayed. He was washing his hands, making a mess out of the perfectly white porcelain sink. I squeezed myself between the sink and the wall, trying to find the injury that was making him bleed so badly, but aside from several little scratches on his knuckles couldn’t see nothing. I tried to take his hands in mine to look closer, but he yanked them away from me.r />
  “Go away, I said!!!”

  “Let me see what happened, I’ve learnt first aid at SS-Helferinnen courses, I can put on a perfect bandage or even stitches.”

  “Annalise, it’s not my blood,” he finally said through the gritted teeth.

  I lifted my eyes to his, and saw that they’d changed their color from regular golden-brown to almost black. They were not human’s eyes, they were predator’s eyes; an animal that had just killed its prey. I felt the shivers going down my spine, and terror, uncontrollable instinctual terror as if I was standing inches away not from a man, but a wild forest wolf, baring its sharp long fangs at me.

  He was watching me as I made a step back, then another one until I backed out of the bathroom, and only then he turned back to the sink and proceeded with washing his hands. I almost ran out of the office.

  _______________

  As soon as I entered the hallway, the familiar group of men consisting of Heinrich, Georg and the Gestapo agent immediately stopped talking and turned to me.

  “What the hell happened to him?” I addressed them, pointing to the direction from where I came from.

  The men exchanged looks as if deciding whether they should tell me or not. Finally the Gestapo agent spoke.

  “We arrested one of the rebels from the ghetto, but before we were able to take him in, he shot two of our Waffen-SS officers. Herr Gruppenführer… got upset about it.”

  Georg looked at the agent. “I thought that he beat him up because the Jew refused to give any information, no?”

  “Who the hell knows?” The Gestapo agent shrugged indifferently. “You know how Kaltenbrunner is, one minute he’s talking calmly, the next moment he shoots the guy’s brains out.”

 

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