My Brother's Secret

by Dan Smith

  ‘They say that if you look into her eyes, she sucks out your soul and you’ll never speak again.’

  ‘Sounds like rubbish to me,’ I said, but a shiver ran up my spine and I cast a glance over my shoulder to make sure we weren’t being followed.

  ‘I’ve never been in here at night,’ Lisa said. ‘Do you think we’ll see her?’

  ‘I’ve been in here at night and I didn’t see her.’ I tried to change the subject. ‘This is where I hid with Jana. Over there, by the graves.’ I pointed into the darkness where the headstones were just visible.

  ‘Stop!’ Lisa grabbed the back of my jacket.

  I was still looking over at the dark shape of the gravestones, and had walked a few paces ahead of Lisa, not noticing that she had stopped.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ She pulled me to a halt.

  ‘Why? What’s the—’

  ‘There,’ she said. ‘Up ahead.’

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered, almost too afraid to know.

  Lisa raised an arm and pointed, and I peered into the darkness ahead, half expecting to see the Shrieking Nun, right there, floating above the ground with her eyes glowing red and her mouth open wide as she prepared to suck out my soul.

  But there were no ghosts in the cemetery.

  Instead, there was something far more dangerous.

  Just a few steps away, right in the centre of the road, there was a dark shape protruding from the ground. It was thick and almost as tall as me, but set at an angle as if it had … as if it had dropped from the sky.

  ‘You were going to walk right into it,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Is that what I think it is?’ I took a step closer.

  ‘Don’t,’ Lisa hissed. ‘Stay where you are.’

  ‘I just want to look.’

  ‘You might set it off.’

  I took another step.

  I had seen pictures of bombs at school and I’d heard them whistling in the sky, felt the shudder as they exploded when they hit the ground, but I had never actually seen one close up.

  ‘Come here,’ I said. ‘You can see it better.’ I held my hand out to her and beckoned. ‘Really. It’s all right.’

  She hesitated, shaking her head.

  ‘I’m not going any closer,’ I told her.

  After a moment, she sighed and came to stand beside me.

  I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out my torch, then pointed it at the unexploded bomb and flicked it on.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Lisa pushed my arm down so that the beam was pointing at the ground and she looked about in alarm. ‘Someone will see.’

  ‘There’s no one here.’ I pulled my hand away and shone the torch at the bomb once more, pointing it at the place where it had thumped into the ground and half buried itself. It wasn’t a big bomb; I guessed it would have been about shoulder height to me, but it was probably big enough to destroy a house. As I passed the beam over its length, I saw two words written on the side and, though I couldn’t speak English, I was fairly sure I knew what FOR ADOLF meant.

  ‘Imagine if it went off now,’ Lisa said. ‘We’d be blown to pieces.’

  ‘It won’t,’ I said. ‘Just keep still.’ I couldn’t take my eyes off it. In the back of my mind I saw the houses on Feldstrasse, reduced to rubble by one of these bombs, but I couldn’t stop looking at it. I couldn’t move away from it. All that energy closed up inside that metal shell was hypnotising. And so were those words. It seemed that it always came down to words.

  Maybe that’s where the real strength was.

  ‘What if it’s one of those timer bombs?’ Lisa asked. ‘It might go off at any minute. I think I can hear it ticking.’

  I listened carefully, but all I could hear was the distant sound of the rescue operation on Feldstrasse.

  ‘Please,’ Lisa begged, so we carefully stepped away from the bomb, moving backwards, watching it as if it were a predator waiting for us to let down our guard.

  Once we were a safe distance away, we moved onto the grass at the side of the path, intending to carry on with our plan.

  ‘Shouldn’t we tell someone about the bomb?’ Lisa said. ‘What if someone else walks down here, or comes in their—’

  ‘We haven’t got time,’ I said. ‘We’ll do it on the way back. We’ll … I don’t know … we’ll think of something, but we need to go now. We need to do this.’ Too much had already interfered with our plan, and I was afraid that we were on the verge of backing out.

  A CLICK OF THE LATCH

  Looming out of the dark, Gestapo Headquarters was even more nightmarish in the dead of night.

  The building was silhouetted against the river, silent and unnatural. The trees cast twisted shadows across its bricks and I imagined it to be filled with damp rooms and gloomy corners. There would be tools of torture, blood-stained floors, and monsters like Wolff waiting to hit women and drag boys into the darkness.

  ‘There must be loads of them work in there,’ I whispered.

  Lisa shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Just Wolff and one or two others.’

  ‘Why is it so big then?’

  ‘Papa said it used to be a house, the biggest in town, so they took it. He said they always take the best for themselves.’

  I stood in the shadow of the wall on the opposite side of the road and stared at the large building. It looked to me like a terrible prison. A place where unspeakable things happened.

  When I was in the city, I used to cycle past the official buildings, with Nazi flags draped over them, and hope that one day I would go inside and see the men in their flawless uniforms. I imagined that I would even work in there and that it would be perfect.

  Now though, looking at this building, I saw only fear and pain. Nothing here was perfect.

  I shivered and tightened my fingers into fists.

  ‘Shall we do it?’ Lisa looked at me and then leaned out to glance each way along the street. ‘It’s clear.’

  My whole body was quaking, but I was determined not to lose my nerve. ‘Yeah. Come on.’

  I jogged across the road, where Kriminalinspektor Wolff’s black Mercedes was hunched like a beast waiting to spring, and looked both ways, before heading through the open gate. Lisa kept up with me, and as soon as we were in the garden, I tugged the can of paint from my bag.

  Lisa stepped into the shadows at the side of the path and scanned the street and house, while I crouched in front of the building and took a screwdriver from my bag, using it to pry open the lid of the paint can. It came up with a small pop, then I fished the paintbrush out of my bag and began to work.

  The bricks were rough and difficult to paint on, so I had to rub hard with the brush and keep reloading it again and again.

  My heart was pounding with excitement and fear. I was so afraid of this place and of being caught, but at the same time it was exhilarating. I was getting my own back. I was doing something. This was my revenge for what Wolff had done to Mama and to Stefan. I was showing them what I thought of them for taking my papa away and letting him die.

  In the distance, the faint sounds of activity from Feldstrasse continued, and there might have been a hint of smokiness on the breeze, but mostly I could smell paint and hear the sound of the brush scraping against the bricks.

  When I was finished, I replaced the lid on the paint tin and shoved it back into my bag with the brush and screwdriver, then we retreated further along the path and looked up at my handiwork.

  This close, the white letters shone in the night. In the morning they would glare brilliantly in the sun, sending their message to anyone who happened to pass.

  Beneath the words, though, was the part I was most proud of. An edelweiss. Just like the ones I had seen on the walls.

  Lisa took a deep breath and nudged me. ‘Come on, Karl Friedmann, we’d better get out of here.’

  And that’s when we heard it.

  A terrifying sound that froze my heart right in my chest.

  A sound that snatched the breath from
my lungs and made my body numb.

  It was a simple sound that in daylight, at home, would not have made me think twice. But in darkness, after what we had just done, the sound of a door opening was the most awful sound there could be.

  A rattle of the handle.

  A click of the latch.

  A squeak of hinges.

  The heavy front door of the Gestapo headquarters swung open and a figure appeared, silhouetted in the dull glow of a light somewhere inside the building.

  Right away, I knew who it was.

  The shape of Kriminalinspektor Gerhard Wolff was unmistakeable.

  THE WOLFF’S GRIN

  ‘Stay where you are.’

  He saw us immediately. We were out in the open and the light from inside that dreadful building was enough to spill out and illuminate the short path.

  ‘Stay exactly where you are.’ Wolff’s voice was soft and menacing.

  Lisa and I were fixed to the spot, as if our feet had grown roots and sent them deep into the earth. My muscles were locked tight. My blood ran cold. I felt as if a million insects were fighting for space inside my stomach.

  The light dimmed and then disappeared as Wolff closed the door and came towards us.

  ‘Karl Friedmann.’ He looked down at me. ‘And Lisa Herz.’ Wolff stood straight and stared at us. His face was without any expression at all as he looked from me to Lisa and back again. ‘Well?’ He raised his eyebrows.

  We remained silent.

  ‘There must be a reason why I would find you outside Gestapo Headquarters at this time of night. Has something happened that requires my attention?’

  ‘Umm …’ I tried to think. There had to be something that would lure him away from this place without looking back. I couldn’t let him turn around because then he would see the words on the wall.

  ‘Well, come on. Out with it.’

  ‘We …’

  ‘Perhaps you need my help with something?’ He moved his head as if he were going to look back, and I knew he was going to see it. He was going to look back and see the words and—

  ‘A bomb.’ Lisa blurted it out so the words almost exploded from her. ‘There’s a bomb.’

  Wolff looked at her with surprise. ‘A bomb? But there have been bombs going off all night. Do you think I haven’t heard them?’

  ‘Unexploded,’ Lisa said. ‘An unexploded bomb.’

  ‘Ah. I see.’ Wolff didn’t seem worried by Lisa’s news, and when he spoke, his expression was suspicious and his tone was disbelieving. ‘You came out in the middle of the night to …’ he raised his eyebrows at us again, ‘… to look at the damage? And you found an unexploded bomb. So, naturally, the first thing you thought was to come and tell me.’ There was a sense of unpleasantness to what he said, as if every word tasted bad to him.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Please.’ Wolff interrupted. ‘Let me tell you what I think really happened. You see, I don’t think you came out in the night to look at bomb damage, at all.’

  My stomach tightened.

  ‘As soon as I saw you from the window, I thought to myself, Ah, the Friedmann boy has come to rescue his brother. Or, at least, to see him. But now I’ve changed my mind.’

  ‘The bomb—’ Lisa started to say, but Wolff held out his hand, one finger extended.

  His face darkened into an expression of pure evil, and his next words were laced with venom. ‘Let. Me. Finish. Don’t speak again, young lady.’

  Lisa clamped her mouth shut.

  ‘Now.’ Wolff’s eyes slipped over to stare at me. ‘The reason I have changed my mind, Karl Friedmann, is that I see you are carrying something, and because I see you have white paint on your hands … again … and on your jacket …’ he touched my chest with one finger, pointing to the white splashes that stood out against the dark material.

  I said nothing.

  ‘I hope I am wrong,’ Wolff went on. ‘I sincerely hope I am wrong.’ He shook his head. ‘I also hope that when I turn around I don’t see anything that will make me want to punish you. It would be a shame to fall out with you. You showed so much promise. The Führer believes the youth is our future; you do know that, don’t you?’

  I swallowed hard.

  ‘But, I suppose there are always those who must be … brought into line. Take your brother, for example.’ Wolff stared at me for a few moments longer, then he stepped between Lisa and me, so he was standing behind us. When he turned around he put one hand on each of us.

  Above us, the breeze whispered in the treetops. Behind us, Wolff’s breathing was heavy.

  ‘Interesting brushwork,’ he said at last.

  The words on the wall were clearly visible.

  Their message was clear, too.

  HITLER IS KILLING

  OUR FATHERS

  ‘I particularly like what you have done with the flower.’

  Wolff pushed us both forward. ‘Now, why don’t we go inside and you can tell me all about it.’

  IN THE WOLFF’S LAIR

  We stepped into Gestapo Headquarters; the place that had haunted my sleep. The hallway was long and wide, but felt cramped like a coffin. With just a dim light at the far end, the wood-panelled walls closed around us as if they were going to crush us.

  Wolff came in on our heels, the door banged shut and my heart thumped hard. It was beating so fast I was afraid it might burst.

  ‘Straight ahead.’ Wolff was like a devil lurking behind us and I tried not to imagine that hideous grin. ‘Go on.’

  Our boots clicked on the black tiles and echoed in that dark space as we made our way deeper into the heart of my nightmare. A strong smell of disinfectant swirled about us, thick and suffocating, but underneath it I could smell something else.

  Dirt and sweat and fear.

  Terrible things had happened here; things I couldn’t even imagine.

  My heart pounded and blood swooshed in my ears. I felt weak, and a lump rose in my throat as if I were going to be sick. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run. I wanted to turn around and beg for my life. But I told myself to be strong.

  Like Stefan.

  ‘Stop there,’ Wolff ordered, and for a moment, there was no sound, as if we might be the only people in the building.

  He paused behind us, breathing heavily, then came forward and opened the first door on the left. ‘Inside.’

  I could tell right away that his was his place – his lair – because it reeked of tobacco and his aftershave.

  ‘Stand there.’ Wolff pointed to the centre of the room, and we did as instructed while he took a seat behind the desk.

  He said nothing as he settled into his chair and pulled open a drawer to take out a packet of cigarettes, which he placed on the desktop. They were the same brand he had taken from Oma and Opa’s kitchen cupboard. He adjusted the packet so it was exactly straight, the bottom end parallel with the edge of the desk, then placed a gold lighter beside it. He spent a few moments lining them up so they were perfect.

  The only other things on the desk were an empty glass ashtray, a small Nazi flag on a stand in one corner, a pen, which was in line with the packet of cigarettes and the lighter, and a brown file with the name ‘Stefan Friedmann’ written on it.

  When everything was in place, he opened a drawer to his left and took out two more brown files. He set them on the desk in front of him, then put two forms on top of them and closed the drawer.

  The lid of his pen clicked when he removed it, and the nib scratched on the white forms as he wrote.

  We waited in silence, shaking with fear, and when he had finished, he turned the papers around and held out the pen.

  ‘Sign here.’ He pointed with his finger at the bottom of the form. ‘Now.’

  I stepped forward and took the pen. My hand shook as I signed.

  ‘Good. Now you.’ He held the pen out to Lisa, and she did as she was told.

  When it was done, Wolff wrote our names on the folders, one for each of us, and slipped the forms inside. He put
the folders on top of Stefan’s, then sat back.

  ‘My job is not always an easy one.’ He steepled his fingers and leaned his elbows on the desk. ‘I don’t have anywhere near enough officers for all the work that is building up. There are just so many people to investigate. I have a room here filled with files like these.’ He tapped the folders and his gaze flicked from Lisa’s face to mine, and when he looked at me, I couldn’t help averting my eyes. I lowered them and stared at the threadbare red carpet.

  ‘Would you like to be me?’ he sighed. ‘Trying to keep order?’

  I didn’t reply.

  ‘I’m asking you a question, Karl Friedmann.’

  I looked up and shook my head.

  ‘I thought not.’

  There wasn’t much furniture in the room; just the desk and the seat he was sitting in. There was a bookcase along the wall to my left, but it was empty. The wall to my right was panelled with dark wood and, exactly in the centre of it, hung a portrait of the Führer looking serious.

  ‘You have both just signed a D-11. It is an “Order for Protective Custody”.’

  Lisa took a sharp breath and I wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

  ‘That means you are mine. You belong to me until I sign a release form. So now I have to decide what to do with you.’ Wolff snatched up the packet of cigarettes and took one out. He used the gold lighter, flicking it once to ignite a small flame, then leaned back and blew smoke into the air. It streamed across his desk and settled around us like poisonous cloud.

  ‘At least I’m closer to finding all the Edelweiss Pirates in my town.’ He pointed at me. ‘Your brother gave me a few names after a bit of persuasion. He didn’t mention yours though.’

  ‘The leaflet was mine,’ I said. My throat was dry and my legs were trembling, but I didn’t want to be afraid any more. I wanted to be angry, and the way he was talking made it easier than I thought.

  ‘I know it was yours.’ Wolff looked pleased with himself. ‘But it was your brother I wanted. Now you’ve decided to follow in his footsteps, though, I have the problem of what I am going to do with you.’

  ‘Let us go home,’ Lisa said. ‘We won’t do it again.’