“You need to cut more evenly and quickly. Watch me from the corner of your eye,” he commanded.
In twenty minutes, all the women were finished, and a group of Sonderkommandos opened the door marked shower and waved the women inside. Row by row, they trudged in, some scared, some oblivious to their fate. Then the door was closed. Daniel picked up his bin filled with shorn hair and followed his father and uncles outside where a new group of naked women was lined up, ready to go. As he emptied his bin into a canvas-covered wagon, he let his fingers touch the greasy blonde locks of the first girl he’d shorn. He imagined her starting to gasp for breath as the Zyklon B pellets were dropped from an opening on the roof. He could not believe what he had just done.
Rome, 1949
Daniel stopped stroking Slim’s hair and looked away.
“What did they use the hair for?” she asked quietly.
“They sold it to German companies by the bale, and it was woven into rope and socks for submarine crews. They even used it as detonators for bombs. They wanted women’s hair because it was long.”
“I cannot even imagine how you felt.”
“I didn’t feel. I shut down. It was the only way I knew how to survive, and for a while, that worked, until . . .”
“Until what, Daniel?” She grabbed his other hand.
He pulled her close so their temples touched, and then he whispered, “Until the rest of my family arrived.”
“I thought they were dead. I figured they came with you, and they were sent immediately to the gas chambers.”
“No, they left on a later transport. I knew it was just a matter of time before I would see my mother and five-year-old sister, Adrienne.”
“Oh, God, Daniel you can’t mean . . .”
Auschwitz, 1942
As each transport arrived, Daniel wondered if his mother and younger sister would be on it. When his father was told that the entire Cohen family were next to be deported to the east, he collected all the women’s jewelry sewn into the hems of their dresses and paid a bribe to keep the women and the younger children off the transport list. Maybe, his father reasoned, if he bought enough time, the head of Vichy, France, Marshal Petain, would come to his senses and stop the transports when he realized the Jews were not being resettled in the east. So as the Cohen men were shoved into the cattle cars, they were relieved that their women and children did not have to make the arduous journey, not yet, anyway. As their door was bolted shut, all his father said was, “After the war, we will all be together, and France will wake up from this nightmare, and it will be as it was before.”
It was this thought, this mantra, this prayer that sustained the Cohen men through the nightmare of Auschwitz. Every day that passed meant their women and children were still alive. Each time he opened the outer door to the gas chambers and saw the rows of naked women and children, Daniel would search for his mother and sister and then breathe a sigh of relief they weren’t there.
Then, six weeks later, the day they dreaded arrived. He opened the door and saw his mother holding five-year-old Adrienne, sitting with his aunts and younger cousins.
Having never seen his mother naked, Daniel averted his eyes until she called for him. Only then did he walk over with the scissors and kiss her quickly on the cheek. His father quickly kissed Adrienne and then told her to go to Daniel. She took the seat next to her mother and gripped her hand, as Daniel picked up her fine strands of brown hair. Adrienne looked up at him, wide-eyed and curious.
“Are we going to live in the same house here, Daniel? Will Maman and I live with you and Papa?” her small voice shyly asked as she held her arms across her chest, trying to hide her nakedness.
“Yes, ma petit chou chou,” he said, calling her by her nickname. Next to him, he could see his father caressing his mother’s neck, whispering in her ear.
“Daniel, you have to give bebe a cut as well.” Adrienne held up her doll.
“Mais oui, ma petit chou chou, but let me finish your hair first.”
“Are you making me pretty?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are already pretty. Adrienne, I want you to know that I love you very much.”
Alarmed by the tone in his voice, Adrienne turned around to look at him. “Are you going to be here after we get out of the shower?”
“Of course. I’ll be holding your clothes. I’ll be waiting for you. Now listen to me. I want you to stay with Maman. You hold her hand.”
“I will, Daniel.”
“I love you, chou chou.” Daniel pecked her on the head, and she jumped up. His mother looked ashen as she reached for Adrienne’s hand. Daniel could see that his father had told her what was going to happen. He had prepared her for the inevitable.
“Whatever happens, you must live, Daniel. Promise me,” his mother said.
Daniel nodded and reached for her, but before he could touch her, she was swept away, pulling Adrienne with her naked doll, through the door to death. His two aunts and his grandmother followed, and then his cousins. After the door was shut, Daniel carried his bin out to dump it along with all of the others. He fished out a coil of Adrienne’s hair and put it in his shoe. His father and uncles stood huddled together. Daniel walked over to them.
“Quickly, Daniel, lead us in the prayer for the dead,” Uncle Maurice commanded.
Daniel complied and began to whisper, “May his great name grow exalted and sanctified.”
“Amen,” they all replied.
“In the world that he created as he willed. May he give reign to his kingship in your lifetimes and your days, and in the lifetimes of the entire family of Israel, swiftly and soon.”
“Amen,” they all replied.
“May his great name be blessed forever and ever . . .” Daniel stopped.
From the gas chamber, the collective scream of the women and children joined in until there was nothing to be heard. A month later, Daniel’s father was gone, and soon after both of his uncles, all from typhus. He was the only one left of the Cohen family, and the only thing that kept him alive was the thought of avenging their deaths.
Rome, 1949
Slim watched as Daniel rocked back and forth, writhing soundlessly with his hands over his ears. She reached across and pulled the broken man into her arms.
“Daniel, this hatred is going to eat you alive.”
“I know, but what else is there for me to do?” he asked, gasping for breath.
“We make a life together. We could create our own family. Let me finish,” Slim said before Daniel could interrupt. “I know we can’t replace what you’ve lost, but you don’t have to live with this horrifying emptiness. We both deserve some happiness.”
“You lost the baby because of me. If I had been there . . .”
“I didn’t even know that I could get pregnant again.”
“Again? Were you pregnant before? When?” Daniel asked.
“After Patrick’s plane went missing, I had an abortion. It went badly, and I was told I would never be able to have children again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that when Patrick went missing, and I found out I was carrying his baby, I knew I would have to drop out of school. I didn’t want to do that. His family is also very religious, and I didn’t think they would have accepted an out-of-wedlock baby. My life would have been ruined. I was nineteen, heartbroken, and I made the only decision I could at the time.” Slim paused and then added, “We could try again, or there are plenty of displaced children who need homes.”
“What about that man in London?”
“He was an excellent distraction, but you’re the main attraction.” Slim smiled. “We could build something together. I still want to find the lost, and you can track down war criminals, but you can’t just shoot them in the Black Forest. You have to bring them to justice.”
“I’d like to kill six million Germans.”
“Is that going t
o bring six million Jews back?”
Daniel shook his head no, and then he said, “Do you think we should get married?”
“Married?” Slim pulled away.
“Why not?” Daniel asked indignantly.
“Look, before we do anything, there is one last thing I need to do. I need to find Marie Claire and wrap up this case.” Slim suddenly felt exhausted.
“I should let you sleep.” Daniel kissed her on the forehead.
“Listen, about what you told me. . . .” Slim grabbed his hand.
“Yes?” Daniel looked away, as if he were lost again in the horror of his memories.
“It helps me understand why you are the way you are.”
“I don’t think I will ever speak about it again.”
“You know, as early as September of 1942, the BBC was reporting that people were being gassed, but it just seemed too horrible to believe. Do you have a photo of Adrienne or your parents to show me?”
Daniel shook his head no. “I can’t remember the sound of their voices, and now their faces are slipping away from my memory.”
“Were you able to keep that lock of Adrienne’s hair you clipped before she went to her death?”
“After were liberated, our prison uniforms were taken from us and burned because we all had lice, so the lock of hair was burned. I remember touching her shoulder before . . .” Daniel’s voice broke. “I think it was good in some way, to be there for her during her last moments.” Daniel’s face contorted with pain again. Slim reached out and stroked his cheek.
“I think it was very good.” She pulled him close, and they lay there breathing together until they fell into a dreamless and much-needed sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
1949
A week later, Slim and Daniel were on a train to Struthof. It took them through the Alps, and Slim spent a lot of time looking out the window, thinking about what Daniel told her. Then she thought about her pregnancy. Sister Helen had told her that she hadn’t been very far along and that the trauma she had endured most likely had led to her miscarriage, but she had been pregnant, all right. No wonder she had been so tired and irritable. What would she be like as a mother? She’d spent her entire life bemoaning her parents or lack thereof. She didn’t know her mother, but what about her father? He had been a womanizer and a drunk, but at least he’d tried to be her parent. She’d spent every vacation with him, and from the myriad of people who knew him that she had talked to, he did seem proud of her.
What kind of parent would Slim be, if she ever got the opportunity to be pregnant again? She was scared of the genes she might pass on, her mother’s madness and her father’s predilection for alcohol. She couldn’t imagine Daniel living with such rage and still being a real father.
They arrived at the Struthof train station early the next morning. Slim arranged for them to stay at Franc and Marisol’s Inn, where she booked two adjoining rooms. She felt ready to pass out, and Daniel helped her up the stairs to a freshly made-up bed while a worried Marisol looked on. She woke up later that afternoon and went downstairs to find Franc and Daniel deep in conversation with Adrian Belcourt.
“Are you feeling better?” Marisol asked while she tried to soothe a cranky baby in her arms. What would it be like to have her baby? Slim wondered as her womb seemed to contract and ache with the sound of the baby’s cry.
“Yes, thank you.” She followed Marisol into the kitchen. “I see that Adrian is here. What is he talking to Daniel and Franc about?”
“The war. The camps. Adrian came by for breakfast, as he often does. He started talking to Daniel, and then Franc sat down. I think it should all stay in the past, but Franc says it would be disrespectful to the dead to forget.”
“He’s right,” Slim said.
“I suppose,” Marisol said as she handed Slim a cup of coffee and cut a slice of warm ginger cake for her. “Stefan told us about what happened to your sister.”
“So you’ve seen Stefan?” Slim asked quickly, trying to change the subject.
“Franc has been going over and helping his father a couple of times a week. What you said about your father made a difference. May I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Slim said as she bit into the fragrant cake.
“You’re not that missing British spy’s sister, are you?”
Slim hesitated. If she told Marisol the truth, she might be offended Slim had lied to her.
“No, I was hired to find her.”
“I thought the box my father-in-law gave you the proof you was looking for, but you’re back.”
“One of the items raised some more questions.” Slim knew she sounded vague, but the baby began to fuss again, and Marisol seemed to accept the answer without further questioning.
Later on, as she took a walk through the medieval town with Daniel, Slim suddenly felt weak and gripped Daniel’s arm.
“Slim, cherie, what is it?”
“Can we stop for a bit?”
“Of course.” He led her to a nearby café and ordered beers. They took in the verdant mountains as they sipped, and then Daniel remarked, “In a couple of months, snow will come and all the green will be gone. When I was a child, I loved the snow. I loved how it fell.”
Slim flinched.
“What is it?” Daniel asked, concerned.
“The doctor said because of the miscarriage, I’ll still have these twinges.”
“Did you bring your painkillers?”
“No. I don’t want to be in a fog, Daniel.”
“We should have waited for you to heal before . . .”
“No, I want to finish this case. Plus, the more I work, the less time I have to think about losing the . . .” Slim looked down at the table. Daniel reached across and grabbed her hand.
“We’ll have another one. I want you to marry me, Slim.” He tightened his grip on her hand and said, “I know I can never replace what I’ve lost. But you’re right; I can move on with my life and not be trapped in the past.”
“What if I don’t want to have children? What kind of mother would I make, anyway, with my upbringing?”
“Slim, you don’t have to marry me or have kids with me, but I do want you to be with me,” Daniel said, sighing.
She thought about all the pain Daniel had put her through and wondered if she could make such a commitment. She was the one who had carried his baby, albeit unknowingly.
“I can be with you. I can marry you, but I don’t want you to regret marrying me if I’m unable to have children or don’t want to have children.”
“I can live with that.” He picked up her hand, took out a small box, and slid it over to her.
“What’s this?”
“I was going to give this to you in Rome, and then we had that fight. Open it. Go ahead.”
Slim opened the box and revealed a gold ring studded with pink sapphires.
“It’s beautiful. Where did you get it? It looks like an antique.”
“It was my mother’s wedding ring. She hid it under a floorboard before she was arrested. When you bought the building where my family lived, that was the first thing I pulled up.”
He took her ring finger and slid it on. “It fits.”
“It’s stunning.”
“Maybe we should get some champagne.” He looked around for the waiter.
“No, let’s wait and let Françoise throw us a party at la Silhouette.”
“Fair enough.” He raised his glass. “But how about a toast to the future?”
They clinked glasses.
“What were you talking to Franc and Adrian about this afternoon?” Slim asked.
“Just some ideas about maybe preserving Natzweiler to make sure people don’t forget what happened there. Let’s order some dinner. I told Marisol we’d eat out.”
Over dinner, Slim brought up her kidnapping. “Daniel, they took me because they wanted to find you.”
“I know. Klaus Barbie is not going to rest until he gets me.”
&n
bsp; “We have to go to Bill Donovan and see if he can help you.”
“How do you know the head of the OSS?”
“Marlene does. She put in a call for me when I was first investigating Marie Claire’s case.”
“I can handle Barbie by myself. I don’t need Marlene.”
“But . . .” She let out a yawn. The sun had gone down, and night was beginning to fall.
“Enough. Let’s go back and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.”
Slim slept deeply and dreamed of her mother again. This time, her dream took a more disturbing turn. In it, she was turning the pages of a photo album, and with each page, there were pictures of her parents together, pictures of the three of them together. Each milestone was recorded: her birth, baptism, first steps, and communion. On the last page, she saw herself in a wedding dress being walked down the aisle by her beaming father, and then a final photo of herself and Patrick with their six children. It was an album of what might have been, and when Slim awoke, she felt shattered.
Irritable and exhausted, she went down to breakfast. Daniel looked up and smiled when he saw her. Then seeing her expression, he stood up and held out her chair.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“It must be something. You seem upset.”
“I had a dream. It’s nothing.” She shook her head as if to shake away the images from the night before they ran through her mind again.
“Sometimes I dream that . . .” Daniel stopped suddenly speaking, as if he were lost in his past. His eyes darkened as he put down his coffee.
“I made the rolls fresh this morning. Both of you must eat,” Marisol said while she poured Slim a cup of coffee.
They ate in silence under her watchful eye. Franc came in and nodded to them both. “I’m ready when you are,” he said.
“I’ve arranged for Franc to drive us up to Mont Sainte-Odile. You’re too weak to walk,” Daniel said, helping Slim up.
The road to the convent was windy and circuitous. Slim looked over at Daniel, who seemed to grow paler at every turn. At one particularly sharp one, her eyes caught a wooden cross and then another one half a kilometer away from the first.
The Lost Spy (Slim Moran Mysteries) Page 23