Just as they’d done with the motorcycle parts, Neil drove Madeline down the hill to retrieve the body. It was now past midnight. The setup of the car he’d been provided was rather foreign to Neil, but it was certainly high quality. According to Madeline, it was German, made by Horch.
While they hadn’t been too nervous disposing of the BMW parts in such a remote area of the river, they were far more concerned about this Schutzstaffel’s cadaver. Neil wasn’t willing to sink the man in the river. With the coming fall snows, Neil felt the river would probably run swift at times. He couldn’t risk the man’s body washing up in a week or two. Because of that, Neil decided to employ a method he’d read about years before.
After questioning Madeline about the area farms, he decided that the large dairy farm north of the town of Götzens was their best bet. They drove to the bottom of the hill, switching off the headlamps as they pulled into the underbrush on the left side of the road. Neil had insisted on going alone but Madeline, displaying her feistiness, wasn’t to be argued with. When he opened the door and smelled the earthy catch basin, Neil’s blood ran cold as he recalled how close he’d come to death earlier in the evening.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I will be. Come on.”
They picked their way down to the catch basin, finding the corpse where Neil had left it. Getting the man out wasn’t easy. Had Neil been fully healthy, he could have carried him out alone. But his side wasn’t quite up to it, yet. So the twosome dragged the dead, partially-clothed SS all the way back to the trunk of the Horch. No sooner had they reached the car than they heard voices.
Neil froze, pointing to the road. Madeline nodded. It sounded like a man and a woman, walking from town.
“They’re drunk,” Madeline whispered.
Neil peered down the last little bit of Berchtoldshofweg, seeing the two silhouettes on the main road as they passed over the drainpipe and approached the turn-off.
“They can’t see us,” Madeline whispered. No sooner had she said it than the couple turned right, coming up Berchtoldshofweg. They were fifty meters away.
“Shit,” Neil hissed. He glanced down at the corpse. Neil knelt, shoving the dead SS under the rear of the car. When he stood back up, Madeline grasped him and situated herself on the trunk of the Horch.
“Pretend to kiss me,” she whispered.
Neil obeyed, leaning over Madeline and kissing the side of her face. She panted heavily as she pulled him down to her.
“Hey…looks like everyone’s having a good time tonight!” the drunken man yelled as he passed by. He whistled and cat-called as he and his woman staggered up Berchtoldshofweg. Neil and Madeline maintained their ruse until the couple was well up the street.
“Do you know them?” Neil whispered, still leaning over her.
“I know who the man is. He’s the son of the man who owns the house at the top of the road.”
“Would he have recognized you?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t know me.”
Awkwardness crept in after the pretend kiss. It was made worse by loading an underwear-wearing, bloody corpse into the trunk of the Horch. Afterward, it took them twenty minutes to drive to Götzens. Neil’s biggest concern centered around possible roadblocks. If the SS were looking for their own man, Neil was certain they’d not hesitate to search the car.
At Madeline’s direction, Neil used quiet back roads, finally arriving at the large dairy farm, bordered on all sides by a long, barbed-wire fence. He pulled the Horch into a forest road across from the fence, extinguishing the lights.
“Which way does the summer wind typically blow?”
“Föhn wind,” she said. “It’s well known and blows from the south.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, why?”
“Most farmers put their decomposition pit downwind of summer winds. The pits smells the worst in the summer, so the farmers would rather not smell the rotting flesh when they’re out having a picnic with the family.” Neil twisted in his seat and pointed. “It’s probably going to be somewhere near the north end of the property.” He eyed her. “I guess it’s silly to ask you to wait here.”
“Good guess.”
They exited the Horch and began to walk, crossing inside the barbed wire fence and following the curving property line around to the north. Many of the cattle, illuminated by moonlight, were sleeping. But some were night grazing, evidenced by their clattering cowbells. A few of the cows began ambling toward Neil and Madeline.
After at least twenty minutes of walking, they noticed a rancid smell.
“Oh,” Madeline moaned, covering her nose and mouth. “Is that it?” she asked, her voice muffled by her hand.
Neil winced, too. There was no other smell on earth like that of rotting flesh. He dreaded what lay ahead for him. “Yeah…that’s gotta be it.”
It took twenty minutes to get back to the car. They drove to the nearest spot outside the fence and parked in the adjacent woods. Then they dragged the corpse across at least 300 meters of road and cow pasture. Despite the cool, both people were soaking wet when they arrived with the body at the fetid pit.
Madeline held a fold of her dress over her nose and mouth. “So they just dump dead cows in here?”
“They have to put them somewhere. Cows are like people—they die.”
Despite its unpleasantness, decomposition pits are common at large farms. This particular pit was well made, and it appeared the farmer took the time to cover the carcasses with lime and a layer of dirt. As long as Neil left no evidence of tonight’s burial, he felt it was highly unlikely the farmer would come digging around his own decomposition pit out of curiosity.
“Ugh!” Madeline cried. “What’s that on the ground?”
“Nightcrawlers.” They were everywhere.
“Nightcrawlers. Why?”
He looked at her. “Why do you think?”
Madeline rushed away, vomiting in the nearby grass.
Retching occasionally, Neil found a covered bin containing powdered lime. Next to the bin was a shovel. He found his spot at the edge of the pit, digging a shallow grave in the mercifully soft soil. After Madeline had recovered as best she could, they shoved the corpse into the grave. Neil tossed lime over the body and quickly covered it with soil.
“Pray for rain,” he said.
“Why?”
“It might cover our tracks.”
No longer bashful around his new friend, Neil stripped off everything other than his undershirt and shorts for the ride home. Madeline followed suit, thankfully wearing a frilly, non-revealing undergarment of some sort.
With the windows open to blow out the stench, the two people drove in silence for much of the ride. As they began to ascend Berchtoldshofweg, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Welcome to Austria, Dieter Dremel!” Madeline said.
“I must say, it’s been an interesting arrival,” Neil replied.
~~~
Neil allowed Madeline to bathe first. He sat at the kitchen table, smoking cigarettes and steadily drinking water to rehydrate himself. Schatze had followed Madeline into the bathroom. They finally emerged, with Madeline in a man’s pajamas and an oversize robe. Neil went next, hurrying but cleaning himself thoroughly. When he came back out in a new set of flannel pajamas and a robe, he found Madeline dozing with her head on the table. Schatze was at her feet. Neil began to quietly switch off the lights.
Madeline awoke. “I’ve been instructed to take you to the doctor right away.”
“Now?”
“First thing tomorrow.”
“Then why don’t you sleep in the bedroom?” Neil whispered. “I can sleep out here on the couch. We’ll go when we wake up.”
“I like the couch,” Madeline replied, standing and stretching. “And Doctor Kraabe will be able to help you with your injuries.”
“I’m fine, now.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, switching on the lamp b
eside the couch. “You were making all sorts of weird noises when we were lugging that scumbag around that pasture.”
“I’m fine.”
“Still, I want him to look at you.”
He nodded resignedly. “So…without discussing Jakey, tell me what’s been going on here.” Again she winced upon hearing Jakey’s name. Neil understood—quite well—the pain she was coping with. Even the simple sound of the name of a lost loved one stung, like a feather-light touch to an open wound. Neil didn’t want to get into Emilee’s murder, either, so he decided to honor this woman’s wishes and keep the conversation away from sorrow.
Madeline flopped down on the couch and loosened her robe. Schatze collapsed at her feet, sighing loudly. “The Germans have essentially taken over here,” Madeline said. “The Austrians, in the government and mostly the civilians, have been complicit. They call it Anschluss…a friendly ‘link-up.’ The cooperation has allowed the Nazis to arm the Austrian military, as well as many volunteers and reserves. Most of the locals were panting for Hitler to take over, thinking he would bring his miracle here.”
Neil watched her. Her passion for her subject danced like fire in her easy-to-read chocolate eyes. He saw the flame burn white hot when she spoke of the Austrian government and their self-serving capitulation to Hitler and the Nazis. She told a story about the ballot for registered Austrian voters concerning the Anschluss. The check box for “yes” was five times the size of the check box for “no.”
“And who would dare vote no?” she asked. “Those who disagreed simply abstained from voting. The ballots weren’t secret, and a no-vote would land you on the Nazi rolls as a dissenter. And that, my new friend, earns you a trip to one of the camps.”
“Okay…I get all that.” He wanted to move the conversation to more pressing items. “One thing that has me up at night is arranging transport for the children. I need to know exactly how far from town they’re hidden. Do you know? The reason their location is important is because it seems that getting them out by cargo train makes the most sense.”
She stared at him, her eyes slowly widening.
“You do know what I’m referring to?” Neil asked.
“The children?”
“Yes.”
“You’re asking where they are?” Madeline asked, her voice changing in octave.
“Yes. Before I knew about any of this, I received a note from…you know…but the second page was gone. There was no location of the children mentioned on the first page.”
“I know all about the note.” Madeline pressed both hands on her forehead, shutting her eyes and making a moaning sound. “I thought you would arrive knowing the location.”
“I have absolutely no idea. I don’t know anything about this area at all.”
“No one told you? None of your contacts along the way?”
“No…they said you and your contacts here would have all the details.”
“This nightmare just gets worse and worse,” she groaned.
“What are you talking about?”
“We don’t know where the children are.”
“Are you certain no one knows?”
“Believe me when I say we’ve looked everywhere. And scoured. And combed. Knowing Jakey…” she seemed to trip on the word. “Knowing his diligence, there’s no guessing where he might have hidden them.”
“So, no one here knows? None of the people in your organization?”
“No!” Madeline cried. “When Jakey arrived in Innsbruck with the children, they knew they were in for a considerable wait until we arranged for the ship to Palestine.”
“Well, why the hell didn’t Jakey tell anyone where they were?”
“At first we knew. He’d hidden them in an old warehouse by the rail depot. But that was unsafe so he moved them. And on the night he moved them…he was…” She dipped her head as the tears resumed.
“Don’t get upset, Madeline. I’ll help you find them, okay? That’s why I’m here.” Something occurred to him. “Wait…how would he have known to send the letter?”
“It was on my pillow that night when I came home. I didn’t even know he was dead at the time.”
“So he had a premonition?”
Madeline appeared on the verge of a breakdown. “The meeting he was scheduled to have that night was extremely dangerous. He knew that, hence the letter. I wouldn’t have sent it had he come home.”
“Did Jakey live with the doctor, too?”
“We both did, in a room in the basement. We only lived there for a short while.”
“May I see it when we go see the doctor?”
“Jakey told me you’re the best in the world and you want to search a basement room as a start? I know every centimeter of that room.” She lurched from the couch and began pacing the floor. Schatze stood, worry in her eyes at the sudden change in the atmosphere.
“Jakey said you were a professional,” Madeline said in a shrill voice, throwing up her hands. “He spoke of you constantly, as if you were some sort of god. Whenever there was trouble, without fail, he would always say, ‘Neil would know what to do.’ ‘Neil would know what to do.’ ‘Neil would know what to do’.” She stopped, her eyes joined with Neil’s. “So, don’t you know?”
Neil stood. He walked to Madeline and hugged her. It was almost like being in a room with himself. He understood her pain, her anguish. “It’s okay, Madeline. I’ll figure it out. It’s okay.”
Madeline buried her face into his flannel pajama shirt, wailing. Neil comforted her, patting her on her back, gently rocking her. For ten full minutes, Madeline sobbed, her body shuddering in grief. Neil wondered if she had even had the opportunity to grieve since Jakey’s death. Perhaps not. She obviously had no family here and said she sometimes stayed in this cabin, probably so she could simply have a good cry.
He held her that way until her tears ceased. She seemed embarrassed as he led her to the sofa. Without hesitating, she stretched out, pulling the quilt from the top of the sofa and covering herself.
“I need to sleep,” she whispered, turning over.
After extinguishing the lamp, Neil placed two more logs on the smoldering fire and let Schatze out to do her business. Then he collapsed on the bed.
Though plenty of things puzzled him, one question stood out above the rest: What happened to the second page of Jakey’s note. If Madeline was the first person to receive it, who’d taken the second page before she found the envelope on her pillow?
After a moment, Schatze leapt up on the bed and settled right in beside him. Neil tabled his worries in the interest of rest.
The cabin’s three inhabitants slept very hard that night.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Pain. It wasn’t the familiar discomfort from the wound on Neil’s side—although, as soon as he moved, that ached, too. No, this pain was on Neil’s exposed arm: a gouging, scratching hurt. He opened his eyes, watching as the blackness faded to blurry gray, and then transformed into the full spectrum of colors as the warmth of the cozy, much-needed sleep slid away like a blanket. Finally, he recognized Schatze, staring at him, her hot breath warming his face with each blast from her lungs. Neil pulled his arm away from her and lifted his sleeve, seeing the red marks from where she’d scratched him. He sat up, the many details of yesterday coming back to him. Schatze whined and hopped down, walking to the door. He nodded, stumbling across the bedroom and checking his watch. It was past lunch. He whistled. When had he last slept this late—without booze?
Neil rubbed his eyes, realizing he’d just been dreaming about being back in the Heinz house. While the entire family had been in his dream, Gabi had been the star. At the end of the dream, he and Gabi were sitting at the kitchen table, sharing a piece of chocolate cake and talking. Simply talking.
The dream had been fantastic.
After splashing frigid water on his face from the faucet, Neil staggered into the main room. Madeline was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of her. She looked u
p from an open book and smiled brightly. “You slept—”
“Past noon. I know. I’m embarrassed.”
“Well…you did walk all the way from Bavaria yesterday. Then, last night, you disposed of a dead body in a cow pit.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Neil grunted. Just the mention of it brought back the smell.
Madeline opened the back door, laughing as Schatze sprinted outside and squatted within seconds. “Poor dog. She’s probably craving some normalcy.”
“I know the feeling,” Neil mumbled, rubbing his damp face. “You and the doc did a good job with the clothes. Did you happen to buy me a razor?”
“And shaving soap,” Madeline replied. “Go get cleaned up, shave, and make yourself look presentable. We’re going to Doctor Kraabe’s in a bit, but not before I make you breakfast.”
“Breakfast this late?”
“Breakfast is good anytime.”
“True.” Neil stepped to the kitchen table, lighting a cigarette before rubbing his eyes and forehead. “Is there more coffee?”
“On the stove.”
“Mind if I have some before getting cleaned up? My head’s filled with cobwebs.”
“Not at all.”
“I really want to hurry,” Neil said. “I feel as if we’re losing precious minutes. Sleeping like that makes me feel guilty.”
“The shipments of children have been going on for some time now. Their food and water is carefully rationed, along with medicine. They will have enough, and probably a bit more than they need, through the deadline.”
“Still…the fact that we don’t know where they are…”
“You’ll feel better once you meet Doctor Kraabe.”
Neil shuffled into the kitchen and poured a cup, taking a long drag of his cigarette before following it with a sip of the hot liquid. A bountiful breakfast, a good night of sleep, a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Some days were certainly better than others. He looked at the eggs and cheese and the thinly sliced German bacon known as speck. “Did you buy all this food just for me?”
Final Mission: Zion - A World War 2 Thriller Page 42