The Taster

by V. S. Alexander

  “What are you doing here?” he asked in a fiery whisper. “Are you out of your mind? Why did you take such a risk?”

  I looked past him toward the others; none of them seemed interested in our conversation. “Minna—one of the tasters I work with—overheard us last night. She threatened to tell Dora Schiffer. In fact, I think she will. If she does, we’re finished.”

  Karl’s face blanched and he clasped his hands together. After a few moments, he regained his composure. “How much did she hear?”

  “Too much. I told Minna we were talking about the Allies, but I don’t think she believed me.”

  His eyes flickered in nervous thought as he paced in a small circle. “My God, what to do? Damn. Everyone knows everyone else’s business in the Reich.”

  “Please, Karl. The others will suspect something. I know exactly what to do.”

  He stopped and faced me, his jaw set and his eyes fixed as stones.

  “Give me until one this afternoon,” I said, “and the problem will be solved.”

  He shook his head. “You must not do anything rash. Promise me.”

  “I just met the Führer.”

  Karl’s face slackened. “That’s the kind of trouble I want to avoid. What did he say?”

  “He wanted to know who I was and what I was doing here. It was a pleasant conversation. And he knows about us—someone must have told him, maybe Eva or Cook.”

  “Promise me you won’t . . . we’ve talked far too long. Don’t put yourself in danger.” He turned toward the officers.

  But I knew as he walked away that nothing he could say would sway me from my plan.

  * * *

  After another stop by the SS, I finally made my way back to the mess and the kitchen. Else was hunched over one of the preparation tables. She’d tasted the breakfast offerings. The other tasters were now involved with lunch, which would be served to the Führer, and invited guests, in the mid-afternoon.

  Else and I had not talked much since I had been taken off tasting duty, but I suspected she still loathed the position and was miserable under Minna’s suffocating wing. I said good morning.

  Else greeted me with a bright smile. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “I want out of this job—maybe do bookwork like you.” She clutched her throat. “I can’t stand the pressure of not knowing whether I’m going to—”

  I finished the thought for her. “Be poisoned? Die?”

  She nodded.

  “You heard Minna. The chances of being poisoned are small. Now that you’ve been through class and performed the job, you must feel more assured.”

  “Yes, but not as much as you and Minna. I don’t even know why they have me taste in the morning. The Führer only has a glass of milk and an apple. He’s obsessed with apples. Apple this and apple that.”

  “Where is Minna? Is she tasting lunch today?”

  Else’s smile soured as she looked around the room for our companion. “Yes, she should be here soon.”

  “Have you seen Dora? I have a question to ask her.”

  Else pointed to the kitchen. “She’s been with Cook all morning going over books.”

  “Which reminds me, I need to get to work.”

  “Magda,” Else called out as I walked toward the small desk I used. “Thank you for being so nice. I’m sorry Otto poisoned you.”

  “Thank you. I’m stronger for it.”

  Inside I felt like a shivering fool. The poisoning had indeed made me stronger—it had strengthened my resolve to fight against a lawless Reich. But I needed to win another battle without giving myself away. It was a risk I had to take.

  I knew where the poisons were kept—under lock and key in Cook’s office. I went to my station and rifled through a few books to look as if I were working. I peered into the kitchen and saw Cook, Dora and Otto. Otto was preparing food at one of the stoves while Cook and Dora talked. He saw me and smirked. I had not talked to him since his “trick.” Cook and Dora seemed absorbed, but I interrupted them anyway. I asked Cook for the keys to her office under the pretense of finding an inventory book I needed. She handed them, hung from a large metal ring, to me and returned to her conversation. Dora barely gave me a glance. I asked in an offhanded way if either of them had seen Minna. They shook their heads. That was the answer I wanted.

  I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was filled with cookbooks, kitchen equipment and logs, much like Cook’s office at the Berghof. A medicine cabinet on the back wall glinted in the light. A black skull and crossbones stared out at me from the frosted glass. I found the key to the padlock and popped it open. All the poisons I had studied in my classes at the Berghof, and more, were inside. I was unsure which to take. Mercury chloride and arsenic were too slow to act and required a larger quantity than was in the cabinet. It seemed my only choice was cyanide, either the granules or the capsule. I decided upon the capsule. I had seen its effect on Ursula: quick and nearly painless. The trick would be how to break it and get the liquid mixed in with the food. I knew the consequences if I was caught. I would be executed. Either way, the trap had been laid by Minna. If I did nothing and let her live, she might report Karl and me to the Gestapo. If I killed her, I would become a murderer. That thought, abhorrent as it was, filled me with a creeping dread. But what could I do? It was either Minna or us.

  I dropped the capsule into my pocket, secured the cabinet and found an inventory log to carry out. Else, looking forlorn, still sat at the table waiting for Minna. Otto was bringing out the lunch dishes. I returned Cook’s keys, making sure she spotted the book I was carrying, and then returned to Else. I looked at the dishes spread out on the table and decided on the potato casserole. Enough runny liquid had settled over the dish that the cyanide might not be noticed.

  Else sighed. “I wish Minna would get here. I don’t want to taste lunch, too.”

  “She’ll be here soon.” I brushed against one of the spoons and knocked it off the table, sending it skittering across the floor.

  Else got up to retrieve it.

  I only had a few seconds. “I’m sorry,” I said, and turned quickly. No one from the kitchen was looking, and, fortunately, no SS officers were in the room. I broke the capsule against the bowl’s rim. The poison slid down the side into the potato dish. I thrust the two halves of the capsule back into my pocket. Else walked back with the spoon in hand. The faint odor of bitter almonds drifted above the dish. I turned quickly, apologized again and asked her if she would return the inventory book to the corner desk. As she walked away, I stirred the dish while my heart fluttered in my chest. The cyanide was infused into the food and the aroma faded. I covered the dirty spoon with my hand and took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

  Cook summoned Else into the kitchen, and just as quickly sent her back. “I have to taste lunch with some of the other tasters,” she said with a frown. “Minna hasn’t shown up. They’re looking for her. And I’m already full.” She patted her stomach.

  Panic surged through me. “This spoon is dirty. I’ll get a clean one.” I walked to an empty sink and washed the utensil. I left it in the sink and dried my hands with a cotton towel. Turning away from the other kitchen help in the room, I wiped any trace of my fingerprints off the capsule fragments and wrapped the towel around them. A few potato peelings lay nearby. I picked them up with the cloth. There was a waste receptacle near Otto. I unfolded the towel over the wastebasket and dropped the peelings and the capsule into it.

  My heart was nearly in my throat. Where was Minna? If she did not come to work, how could I save Else? I didn’t want her to be poisoned.

  Else chastised me as I walked past her to my station. “You forgot the spoon.”

  I laughed halfheartedly, but it was too late to get another one. Dora had left the mess hall. Otto and Cook stood across from Else to watch the tasting. Cook told Else to begin.

  “Let me,” I said from across the room. “Else has been on duty all morning a
nd I’m ready to resume my service to the Führer. I’ve been away too long.”

  Otto snickered. “You are the brave one—after the lesson I taught you.”

  Cook and Else objected, but Otto waved me on. I picked up a fork and started with the salads and vegetable and fruit dishes at the right end of the table, knowing a casserole full of poison awaited me in the center. My stomach churned as I tasted down the line. I smelled each dish carefully before tasting and commented on how excellent each was. In fact, I tasted nothing except the dryness of my mouth.

  When I came to the potato dish, I picked up the bowl, lifted it slowly and then sniffed the contents. My nose twitched and I smelled it a few more times.

  Otto’s eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  “Is this dish intended for the Führer?” I asked.

  “Of course. It’s one of my specialties and a favorite of the Führer’s.”

  “Do your special dishes always contain poison? I smell cyanide.”

  Otto lunged toward the table. “Impossible! I made it myself. And I did not poison it as a test for the taster. Not today!”

  “What is this about?” Cook asked. “Is this a joke on us again?”

  I put the dish back on the table. “This is no joke. There’s poison in this casserole.”

  “Else, do you smell it?” Cook asked.

  Else hesitated, fear shining in her eyes. I urged her on.

  She leaned forward and sniffed the dish. “I can’t tell. It smells off. Something’s wrong.”

  Cook immediately called for an SS guard. A contingent of them rushed into the kitchen. “Test this for poison and search the kitchen. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Meanwhile, Magda, taste the other dishes. Else, I’ll bring out another sample of the casserole. Taste it.”

  We did as Cook instructed. I knew Else was safe. The SS rummaged through everything: the drawers, the utensils, the wastebaskets. It would only be a matter of time before they found the broken capsule in the trash. Trying hard to hide any display of nerves, I glanced at them as they worked.

  As we watched—for we were instructed not to leave the mess hall—Else leaned to me and said, “My God, Magda, I could have been poisoned. Otto could have killed me with one of his tricks.” Her face turned pale. “I must get out of this job.”

  I patted her shoulder. “Calm down. I have it from the Führer that Otto will no longer be conducting these tests.”

  Dora, dour and shaken, appeared at the doorway. She stood silent for a moment and then announced, “Minna is dead—strangled with one of her own stockings.”

  Else gasped.

  I was shocked, too, but I had a strong suspicion who killed her. Karl had murdered her. Who else could have done it? My body went numb. Karl a murderer? I didn’t know what to think. He had saved us, but had he also damned us to a worse fate?

  The SS found the ampoule in the trash near Otto’s station. His corpulent face turned crimson and he vehemently denied to the Colonel he had poisoned the dish. Else and I were questioned as well by the officer. He scrutinized me more severely, scowling the whole time, but my companion and Cook vouched for my integrity and loyalty to the Reich. They asked him, “Why would she poison herself? She’s already been poisoned once in her service.”

  After more than two hours, Else and I were released. The Colonel led Otto away for more questioning. I was sure Hitler would pardon him and he would be free by the Führer’s dinnertime. Cook ordered me to be on hand for an evening tasting. I was concerned—if Otto was released, he might really try to kill me.

  The dinner tasting was without incident, however. Cook reported with satisfaction that Otto was no longer in the service of the Führer and that he had been ordered to a barracks on the Eastern Front.

  Karl was waiting for me outside the mess hall when I finished about ten. No one was around. He grabbed my arm and led me into the forest.

  “That was very, very stupid,” he said. “I know what you did. Who else would do it?”

  I pulled away from his grip. “What I did? You killed Minna. The SS will be on high alert now.”

  He scoffed. “They are always on high alert at headquarters.” He leaned closer to me. “I didn’t kill Minna, but I’m fairly certain I know who did.”

  Karl turned and looked into the dark woods. Nothing stirred as I waited for his answer.

  “Franz killed her,” he said sharply. “He, too, saw her behind the cinema as we were leaving. I told him what Minna said to you. Franz believed she was dangerous and had to be . . . eliminated.”

  As much as I hated the thought running through me, I was glad Minna was dead. She had heard too much and I knew she would use any means to work her way into Hitler’s favor. She was no longer a threat. I was also relieved that Karl hadn’t killed Minna; however, the war was taking its toll on me. How could I be happy that a woman had been killed and that we were at least partially guilty of her murder? My soul seemed blighted and I was disgusted at my own inhumanity. I was unprepared to deal with such feelings.

  The severity of our situation struck me like a hammer blow. First Ursula and now Minna. Two women had died because of plots to overthrow Hitler. More deaths were sure to follow. A hollow feeling opened inside me as I contemplated our uncertain future. “Do you think anyone suspects Franz?”

  “The damn SS is so concerned with keeping the Führer alive, they may not give Minna’s death more than a passing thought.” Again, he looked over his shoulder to the path, which lay in darkness. “But what if they suspected Minna of trying to poison the Führer? Perhaps they’ll think that was why she was killed. Your little trick actually might have helped us.” Karl shook his head in disbelief. “No, no, it’s too insane. Magda, you must never try anything like that again unless a plan is in place. So much could have gone wrong. As it is, with Minna’s murder and the attempted poisoning, the Colonel will be out for blood. She may be a small fish to them, but the situation is still dangerous. I only hope he takes a day or two to investigate and then closes the case—unsolved. Otto’s in deep trouble, too, thanks to you.”

  A violent shaking wracked me and my back scraped against the rough bark of a tree. The square-jawed face of the Colonel appeared in my mind, his teeth gritted in anger.

  Karl took me in his arms and the heat from his neck drifted across my face. I wanted him to make love to me, to ease my fear, but what would it matter? We were doomed, if not through our actions, then by the uncontrollable events of war. He kissed me. “Let me take the chances from now on. Don’t be a martyr.” He kissed me again and then backed away. “We need to get out of here before we both do something we might later regret. You go first. If anyone stops you, tell them you were out for some air.”

  I reached out, pulled him close, unwilling to let go. His skin was moist and hot and our embrace added to the night’s warmth.

  We clung together for a few minutes before he gently released me. “Go now. Tomorrow is the day. Avoid the field to the east of the Wolf’s Lair. It’s not safe to walk near the outer perimeter because of the land mines. Treat the day like any other.” He gave me a lingering kiss.

  I walked away without turning back and soon was on the path to my quarters. I walked slowly, as if in a dream, even as mosquitoes swarmed around me. How could I treat the day like any other? I clutched my stomach, which was knotted with fear, took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I had to put on a brave face for Karl.

  When I arrived at the dormitory, Minna’s bed and locker had been cleared. Else, her eyes red, sat on her bed. I said hello and she burst into tears.

  “I’m going to kill myself,” she said between sobs. “I can’t go on. I’ve been here all evening, paralyzed—afraid someone will murder me.”

  I sat across from her and offered what little comfort I could. “It’s truly awful. We live in a terrible time. Perhaps your job here is finished. Another girl will be here soon and you can move on.” I wanted to lift her spirits by adding that Minna’s murderer would be caught a
nd justice meted out, but, in truth, I didn’t want that to happen.

  I was too upset to talk anymore. I undressed and crawled under the sheet on my cot. The vent hummed as the bunker’s claustrophobic walls closed around me. Dora arrived after midnight. Else sniffled in her bed. I tossed and turned, wide awake, thinking that today could be Karl’s last day on earth.

  CHAPTER 10

  Dora got up early and dressed in full SS uniform. Her hair was pinned back and she wore a regulation cap. She fussed with her skirt and shoes, walking incessantly between the washroom and our quarters. I couldn’t imagine why she was so concerned with her appearance unless something important was happening. Else had none of Dora’s energy. She only managed a meager smile as she got dressed for her breakfast duties. I tried to assure her that other tasters would be there in addition to a new girl who would join us shortly.

  I wasn’t on duty, but I had no desire to sleep in, in our cramped quarters. One idea for the morning came to mind: offer my bookkeeping services to Cook in the officers’ mess hall. She could always use a hand when it came to inventory. At least work might keep my mind off Karl. Dread had been my constant companion since Karl had told me that today would be the day. I wanted to beg him to abandon this deadly mission, but I knew I couldn’t change his mind. Sorrow and fear threatened to overwhelm me. I shoved the frightening thoughts aside as I began my day, but they were always there, lurking.

  I showered, dressed and made my way to the hall. The August day was sunny and warm with excitement on the breeze. I couldn’t see it, but it crawled over my skin as I walked. The air crackled with tension.

  When I arrived, I was surprised at the number of SS officers, including generals, and other important staff members crowded inside. One in particular stood out. He was a large man with a big belly. He looked like a king holding court. From pictures, I recognized him as Hermann Göring, the Reichsmarschall. He smiled and puffed out his chest whenever he spoke, as jolly a Party member as I had ever seen. Albert Speer, the Armaments Minister, was there, looking somber, yet dapper, in his field jacket and knee-length black boots. I recognized him from the few times I had seen him at the Berghof. He kept slicking his hair back with his hand. Hitler wasn’t there, but he couldn’t have been far from the hall. The Bormann brothers stood apart, as was their custom, eyeing each other from across the room. A number of men turned their attention to a smartly dressed older man in a business suit.