“Just a second,” Cockran said. “Ingrid, while Hudson stands guard, you need to look after the Andersen twins and get them dressed and ready to travel.” Then he turned back to Sturm. “String him along,” Cockran replied. “Let’s see what your honey can accomplish before we use vinegar.”
Mattie smiled as she saw Sturm’s momentary confusion. His English was excellent, his accent barely noticeable, but she remembered that English idioms had always posed a problem.
Sturm approached Mengele and gave a hand signal in Mattie’s direction. Mattie stepped forward, uncertain of what he had in mind. “Take notes Fraulein!” Sturm snapped and Mattie promptly pulled out a pencil and notepad.
“What is the purpose of your research here?” Sturm asked. ‘We understand you have one set of American twins who are outside the acceptable guidelines for the study.”
Mengele looked confused. “Guidelines? We have no guidelines. Of course, the subjects must be twins. Preferably identical twins because they are the most efficient method by which we ascertain inherited human traits. But we use fraternal twins as well. There are no guidelines. We can do anything we want with them.”
Sturm’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you use Jews as subjects for your study?”
“No,” he said immediately, and then reconsidered. “Well, it really doesn’t matter so long as they are twins. We are scientifically testing the theories of Sir Francis Galton, the father of eugenics. He believed inherited traits of individuals and humanity as a whole can be perfected. Our work here consists of identifying and then finding ways to improve positive traits and suppress negative ones. It makes no difference if we use Jewish twins or Aryan twins.”
“I beg to differ, Herr Doktor,” Sturm replied. “I am certain it was a mistake, an honest mistake on your part, but there are two twins here, Johansson by name, whose maternal grandparents are Jews. I have come to remove them so that their blood may no longer defile the inspiring work you are doing here.”
Sturm paused, a hint of menace in his voice. “Where are they?”
“They’re gone.”
Mattie chilled. “When? Where?” she asked.
“Yesterday,” Mengele replied, pointedly ignoring Mattie and directing his words to Sturm. “I don’t know where. Dr. V said he would keep them safely on ice and then send for me.”
“And the other twins?” Sturm asked. “I have had my men watching the clinic. No twins left yesterday. We only found two here plus the two you say are in the pathology lab.”
Mengele laughed nervously. “Twins never leave through the front gate. They use one of the subterranean tunnels.”
Tunnels? Mattie thought. More than one?
“Usually only their bodies, of course. But yesterday, I was instructed to have the orderlies dress eight twins and make them ready for travel.”
“Let me see the other two twins,” Sturm said, nodding towards the pathology lab door.
“Of course, Obersturmbannfuhrer, at once,” Mengele replied.
“Why do you use twins for your experiments?” Mattie asked.
Again, Mengele refused to look at her, not breaking his stride. “As I said, they are the most efficient method to ascertain inherited human traits. We have three goals in our studies on hereditary biology and race hygiene here at the Verschuer Clinic. Most importantly, we wish to find ways to guarantee that valuable genetic material can be transmitted unaltered through the generations. That is, undamaged by environmental influences. Naturally, we also wish to insure that inferior genetic material will be excluded from any further transmission. That is another reason why it is so helpful to study disease and hereditary defenses of twins. Finally, if we can, we wish to learn how to improve mediocre genetic material before it can be passed on to future generations.”
Mengele reached into his pocket for a set of keys and opened the door to the pathology laboratory. He continued talking while he walked as if he were giving a university lecture. “The advance of science depends upon carefully controlled experiments. Twins are ideal for this. They are the key to the future. Bringing them together here for evaluation was a master stroke by Dr. V. After all, once twins become adults, they typically lead separate lives. Locating them and persuading them to rejoin their siblings for an extended period of testing was virtually impossible. Indeed, it was only the Americans who had such extensive records for twins, going back decades. Once we received their full cooperation and access to their records, we were able to track down our subjects, select the most appropriate ones and assemble them here. Then the true experiments could begin.”
Mattie leaned close, her lips to Sturm’s ear. “Ask him about the other ten twins.”
“Our records indicate there were twenty twins originally identified in America. What happened to the other ten?” Sturm asked.
“They weren’t brought here,” Mengele replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “They weren’t identical twins. After we drew their blood and extracted their eyes, they were painlessly terminated.”
The wide hallway into which they walked was dark. Mengele pulled a lever and it was bathed in light from fluorescent fixtures. The walls were white but the floor was concrete, not tiled, and it was painted dark red. On the left side were four examination rooms with clear glass running from waist height to the ceiling. In the distance beyond the examination rooms, the hallway opened into a much larger room. Mattie could see a large table in that room on which there appeared to be two shapes.
Meanwhile, Mengele continued to talk. “Over here,” he said, pointing to the left, “is where we conduct our anthropological exams.”
Mattie looked and saw that each room contained several chairs, what looked like an examination table, and a wall gleaming with stainless steel measuring instructions. “Every other day, we measure each of the twins together. Every part of their bodies, including the shape of the mouth, nose, color of eyes, color of the skin.”
“How long do the anthropological exams take?” Mattie asked.
“Several hours at least,” Mengele replied, keeping his eyes on Sturm. “We often conduct x-rays, dental and ophthalmologic examinations as well as psychiatric evaluations. We also photograph them as well as have an artist make comparative drawings of the individual body parts. Color photography simply cannot capture all the possible colors and shades of skin.”
“So the twins are naked throughout the entire examination?” Mattie asked.
Mengele had answered Mattie’s previous questions without actually looking at her. Now he turned his head slightly, locked his eyes with hers, and then ran his eyes appraisingly up and down her body. Mattie had been mentally undressed by men in the past and she never enjoyed the experience. But Mengele’s gaze was different. Chilling. Clinical.
“Of course, Fraulein. One cannot capture natural skin color while a subject is clothed. Depending upon what part of the body is being examined, skin color can change dramatically,” Mengele said, his eyes, clinical no longer, now staring directly at Mattie’s breasts,
“Isn’t that rather exhausting, standing naked like that, being prodded, fondled, measured and photographed?” Mattie asked.
“I suppose,” he said, “but more difficult for the men. Unlike them, the women all receive a reward when their examination is over. Entertainment for our staff as well. Everyone watches and, while they watch, wagers are made. Our subjects are often exhausted after receiving their rewards but many eventually find it enjoyable as well. Take those two we just saw back there.”
“Yes, they seem confused, dazed almost,” Mattie replied.
Mengele laughed. “I rather think they were simply satisfied at having fulfilled their obligation as women to science. I know all our men approach their duties enthusiastically but with a comparable devotion to science. Mating with our SS guards is one of the more pleasant experiences our female subjects receive. I observe them all. It is a critical part of our work. We employ only the most virile specimens among the SS. All twins advance our studies but we consid
er it crucial to impregnate as many fertile females as possible. During mating, each female will service at least two men, sometimes more. It depends upon how attractive they are. Tonight there were four men who did the honors. All of them took a second turn. Perhaps being serviced by four eager young men in one night might account for the two women appearing dazed.”
Mengele laughed again. “The more the merrier. In any event, we believe we are on the cusp of unlocking the secret on how to conceive twins. Each mating advances us one more step. We are like the philosopher kings in Plato’s Republic, preparing the way for a future utopia. Look,” he said and reached to a nearby wall and removed a small frame.
Mattie took the small six by eight inch frame and began to read:
It would be a sin for mating or for anything else in a truly happy society to take place without regulation. We must, if we are to be consistent, and if we’re to have a real pedigree herd, mate the best of our men with the best of our women as often as possible, and the inferior men with the inferior women as seldom as possible, and bring up only the offspring of the best. And no one but the Philosopher-Kings must know what is happening.
Plato, Republic
Mattie stifled a gasp and looked at Cockran, Sturm and Sullivan. She handed the frame to Sturm and asked him to translate from the German for Cockran and Sullivan. As he did, she could see that all three were equally appalled. If looks could kill, Mengele was a dead man walking. The casual way that Mengele had described rape as clinical “matings” was more than enough for any of the three to kill the handsome doctor once they had extracted from him all useful information. Sturm had a younger sister and Sullivan’s sister had been raped by IRA irregulars during the 1922 Irish Civil War as had Cockran’s young wife who was killed afterwards by the same IRA men.
But Mengele was too absorbed in his story to notice their looks. “Each of the men we use — mostly SS but occasionally an orderly if he is of good genetic stock — have different blood types. It is important that each of the men who service the subjects have different blood types.”
Mattie wanted to ask why but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Sturm did. “Why is that?” his voice flat and cold.
Mengele laughed. “So we can determine the father, of course. Naturally, science has to be served but we can’t overlook determining the winners for our wagers, can we? They’re quite popular you know. The more intense the mating, the more bets are placed as to which one will turn out to be the father.”
Mengele chuckled and shook his head. “One of the women you saw who was serviced this evening is already pregnant but we don’t let that stop the progress of science. Matings within 24 hours before a subject’s death permit us to perform sperm migration studies. Not the same as impregnation but it’s still useful. I conduct most of them myself. It’s a specialty of mine. Seeing how far those little fellows can swim.”
Mattie was tempted to kill him herself and reached behind her to make certain that her Walther was still tucked in her waistband. Then she stopped. First things first, Mattie thought, because none of this was getting them any closer to finding where the other eight twins, including Ingrid’s brother and sister, had been taken. Mattie hated herself for what she did next but her reporter’s instinct took over. She had to know. She had to make sense of this insanity. She cleared her throat.
“You mentioned drawing blood from the other ten in America. Do you draw blood samples from these subjects as well?” she asked.
“Oh yes,” Mengele replied. “Twenty cubic centimeters for each examination. More if the subject seems healthy. We do that after the matings so I suppose that might account for their apparent confusion as well.”
“Why draw blood?”
“Blood is the key. It can answer everything. Our genetic heritage, for good or ill, is present in our blood. We don’t have the answers yet but, as scientists, we can never have too much blood to study. Don’t you agree?”
No one replied.
“Are eyes important also?” Mattie asked, breaking the silence. Again, she didn’t want to but she had to ask. This whole story had started with eyeless corpses, drained of blood. What was so damned important about eyes to these madmen?
“Eyes are very important to Dr. V, especially heterochromes — different colored eyes in the same person. We also like to experiment with changing eye color. One of our colleagues in Berlin has written a draft report based on studies we’ve done here: ‘On The Relationship Between Iris Color, Histological Distribution Of Pigment And Pigmentation Of The Ball Of The Human Eye.’ A remarkable work. You seem interested in eyes, Fraulein. Would you like to see our collection?”
77.
We Are Not Monsters
The Verschuer Clinic
The Bavarian National Forest
Thursday, 2 June 1932
COLLECTION? You have a collection of eyeballs?” Mattie asked.
Mengele smiled. “Over there, Fraulein,” he said cheerfully, pointing to the right to a room on the other side of wide hallway. “Go ahead. I’ll take the others into the lab where my colleague Doktor Gustav Kramer will be performing a comparative dissection of the two subjects who expired earlier today. Then I’ll come back here and answer any questions you may have.”
Mattie chilled. Two more twins had been murdered. She watched as Cockran, Sturm and Sullivan followed Mengele into the large room, hoping it was the last she had seen of Doktor Josef Mengele; that one of the three men would kill the little monster before she had to hear his voice or that laugh again. Regrettably, she could still hear him as she opened the door to the room he had directed her towards — the medical library.
“We do our most important work here, gentlemen,” Mengele was saying. “The comparative examination of twins from a pathology viewpoint. We compare the twins healthy organs with those functioning abnormally. As it is necessary to simultaneously evaluate any anomalies, the twins must die at the same time so that we can perform a dual dissection.”
MATTIE shivered as she tuned Mengele out and stepped into the room, turning on the light. There were three comfortable leather arm chairs and a large table in the middle of the room on which were stacked several books and periodicals. Three green-shaded reading lamps were in the middle of the table. Three walls were lined with books. But the fourth wall opposite the door? That was different. Very different.
Mattie recoiled in horror. In place of books, there were five shelves of neatly labeled clear glass half-liter flasks, each with two inch wide cork stoppers. There were six flasks to a shelf, filled with a clear liquid. Resting on the bottom of each flask were two human eyeballs.
All the flasks were labeled and Mattie walked over to the shelves for a closer look. She was not a squeamish person. She had seen more than her share of blood and gore, from trenches to field hospitals but, truth be told, it was impersonal. This was different. She could see that the flasks were organized alphabetically. She scanned quickly to the third shelf and her stomach turned when she saw the two names. Elizabeth Miller Adams and beside that, James Roger Miller. On each label was their date of birth. November 3, 1895. The dates of their deaths were identical as well. Mattie had never met James Miller but she knew all about him from his personnel folder. His electrical engineering degree from Case Institute of Technology. His job with General Electric at Nela Park. His scientific articles. His annual evaluations. She could still hear the praise from the Nela Park plant manager. “Jimmy was one of my finest engineers.”
Mattie couldn’t help it. Her stomach heaved and she turned away looking for a waste basket where she emptied the remains of her last meal. Then, with the sour taste of vomit in her mouth, she got to work. She took her Leica out and methodically began taking photographs of each flask which had the name of one of the twins on Helen Talbot’s grisly list. Annette Harrison Andrews of Chicago. Anthony Harrison of St. Louis. Elizabeth Neumann Sanders of Denver. Nancy Anne Neumann of Los Angeles. Helen Talbot was dead but Mattie still had the list she had been given th
at night in New York on the cloud-covered observation deck of the Empire State Building. That list plus these photographs were all she needed for her follow-up story. Screw Carnegie and Rockefeller. She was going to make them and those people at Cold Spring Harbor pay. The careers, if not the lives, of Verschuer and Mengele were finished as well.
Mattie removed the spent film cartridge from the Leica, put it in its container and slipped it into the small pouch on the back of her vest where she regularly stored all of her exposed film. Habitually, she loaded a fresh roll of film, left the room and hurried to rejoin the others. She could see Cockran, Sturm and Sullivan gathered around a white marble dissecting table on which were two naked female bodies. A tall blond-haired man in a blood-stained white smock was standing at one end of the table. Apparently this was Dr. Gustav Kramer.
“That is my usual routine,” Dr. Kramer said. “They expired this morning and I started on the twins this afternoon. I got as much done as I could before dinner. As always, I recorded each phase of my work.”
“How did the twins die?” Sturm asked.
“Painlessly, I assure you. We are most humane,” Kramer replied.
“Answer the question,” Sturm said, his voice tight, “and tell us who was responsible.”
“Dr. Mengele and Dr. Verschuer personally perform most of the termination procedures. Five cc’s of Evipal is injected intravenously in their right arms. Once they’re asleep, ten cc’s of chloroform is injected directly into the left ventricle of the heart. One twitch and they are gone. Death is both instantaneous and painless. We are not monsters. We are scientists.”
“What causes death?” Sturm asked.
The Gemini Agenda Page 38