"And now I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do, Walter. Please, please, tell me."
Automobiles and streetcars, noise and pedestrians. The midday paper. Boys shouting the latest news into the snowstorm. A whole family wiped out by a gas leak. An avalanche catastrophe in Tyrol. Chiang Kai-Shek demanded arms for an invasion of Red China. The Courier! The World Press! The Evening News!
"I love you, Walter. I love you so much."
I breathed deep, and it hurt in my chest. I looked at her standing before me, fragile and in need of protection* "Go to Germany, Wilma," I said.
"Are things really so bad with you?"
"Yes," I said. "They are. I love you, Wilma, and because I love you, I say—go to Germany. Stay with Felix."
The Evening News! The Courier! The World Press! The latest news from all over the world.
"Wilma?"
"Yes?"
"I am going to die. Soon, Wilma," I said softly and took her hand. It was hot and dry.
"I know, Walter. It doesn't make any difference."
"But it's no use, Wihna."
"It isn't?"
"It isn't."
"I knew it," she said. Her voice had gone dead. Then she took an envelope out of her handbag. "I hoped I'd see you today, and I brought something for you."
"What?"
"The money you loaned us. We can pay it back now."
"Oh God—no!"
She shook her head and pressed the envelope into my hand. "Please. Take it."
I put the envelope in my pocket.
*Walter, if I go to Germany, I'll be away six months."
"Then we won't see each other again."
She looked at me wide-eyed, unblinking. "And still you want me to go?"
"Yes, Wilma."
Suddenly she flung her arms around me and kissed me wildly, desperately. I knew it was our last kiss. ''Leb wohl," I said as she let me go.
"Leb wohl Walter."
She gave me her hand once more, then she walked away. I watched her go. She didn't look around, and soon she had disappeared in a whirlwind of snow.
12
The Saturday evening with Hohenberg was most harmonious and pleasant. I sent Martin off to bed, prepared a few sandwiches, put out whiskey and soda, and I got the impression that Hohenberg felt perfectly at home with me right away. I was glad about that because I found him very sympathetic in his quiet, modest way. He drank little but was grateful to smoke the American cigarettes I still had. Then we sat in front of the fire, watched the flames and talked. It was a curious experience for me after all the long, hectic weeks, to have a visitor again, to converse with someone, to feel no pressure, no fear. I enjoyed every minute of that evening. I forgot that I was an embezzler and a murderer and that I was doomed to die; I felt like a solid citizen and experienced something akin to tranquiUty. We spoke for the most part about our sons.
"Did you see Dr. Freund?"
He beamed. "A wonderful man."
"Isn't he?'*
"How he spoke to Herbert, the way he looked at him ... I didn't think a man Hke that still existed in our day and age. What I'd really like to do is go to his school myself and confess my mistakes and failures to him."
"It is a temptation," I said and emptied my glass. "What is he planning for your son?"
"He'll go to the clinic on Thursdays. Dr. Freund says it will take a long time, perhaps years."
"Can't he take him into his school?"
"Unfortunately not. The board of education won't give permission. He has to attend a school in his district."
"But in the case of my son ..."
"Your case was different, Herr Frank. There wasn't a school willing to take your son. In his case the board had to agree."
He puffed on his cigar and stared into the fire. "And how is your wife?" he asked after a pause. I had told him that she was in Germany.
"Thank you. Very well."
"Is she coming back soon?" He was stiU looking into the fire.
"I hope so. I have a lot of things to discuss with her."
"You have?" Now he was looking at me.
I nodded. "Martin's future. I'm terribly worried about him. Now he has parents; we're still here to look after him. But what will happen if we die?"
I had spoken without thinking. Now I noticed his astonishment. "But by then Martin will be grown up."
"Of course," I said hastily. "Just the same—none of us knows when his time has come. It could be tomorrow. An accident, a serious illness, and Martin is alone. And what then?"
"Dr. Freund will look after him."
"Yes," I said. "He might do that."
"I'm sure he will." Hohenberg sat up straight and spoke louder. "He told me so himself. We talked about it."
"About my death?"
"Good heavens, no. We spoke in general terms. He already has several children in his school who have lost both parents. They live there. A few rooms have been put aside for the purpose. He is a father with many children, our Dr. Freund."
"Is that really true?" I felt strangely excited.
"Yes, Herr Frank."
"He would look after a child whose parents are dead?"
"He said he would take every child whose parents have died—if he had the means. You know all about it, I'm sure. Somewhere outside the city stands a half finished building. The children could live there. The only thing lacking is the money. Not even very much money. I think with a million the house could be finished."
"With a million?"
"Yes, Herr Frank." His friendly eyes rested on me. "But who has a million?"
"That's true," I said thoughtfully. "Who has a million?"
13
It took me ten days to sell my jewelry. The transaction took all my time. I didn't sell it in jewelry stores, naturally. That would have been too risky. I had to contact the Vienna underworld, and this was the most difficult part of the operation. The men I got in touch with didn't trust me, and I didn't trust them. We met in dirty little cafes along the Danube canal, in the offices of shyster lawyers and in the doorways of dubious houses. I dealt
with quite a few interested persons. I had divided the gems into three lots which I sold independently of each other. I was generally taken for a thief, and not a very smart one. Once I got conned. The man who had promised to buy the emerald ring disappeared with it in a passageway, and I never saw him again. That was the risk I had to take in the final moments of all these transactions because the fences always demanded the piece before they handed over the money.
In the end it was done, and I felt very proud of myself. Altogether I had taken in 550,000 schillings, a little over half a million. I also still had in my possession 80,000 schillings of the 100,000 received from Jacob Lauterbach, as well as the 55,000 German marks (40,000 from the Munich checking oflBce, 85,000 from Augsburg, out of which 125,000 marks I had bought 70,000 marks worth of jewelry.) I was pleased to see that no money had been wasted.
It turned out to be much easier to exchange the 55,000 marks than it had been to sell the jewelry. It took me only two days. I changed part of it illegally, the rest at various banks at the official rate, which was of course lower, and in permissable amounts. On the twelfth day I had in my possession, in cash, 935,000 schillings. I laid 233,500 schillings aside, with the remaining 700,000 schillings I went to work.
There are all in all a hundred and fourteen post offices in Vienna that sell money orders. In the ensuing two days I paid in 6,000 schillings at each of these one hundred and fourteen post offices. As sender I filled in any name and address that came to my mind; on the back, on the line reserved for "Remarks," I wrote: "From an anonymous donor." The recipient was, in all one hundred and fourteen cases, the same. I found out the correct name during a conversation with Dr. Freund. "The General Beneficial Company for the Construction of a Children's Hotel in Neustift am Walde, Vienna I. Am Hof 112."
I began the whole operation on November 20th, I was finished on December 6th. On December 9th, Martin h
ad his first serious relapse.
14
"The inducement for the relapse was—as it usually is— something trivial," said Dr. Freund. I was with him in his oflSce again. It had stopped snowing and was thawing. The streets were dirt>^ and the snow was black.
"Martin chose the line of least resistance. He declared that Albert had laughed at him. Albert, as you know, is a retarded child. I admit that Albert has a way of laughing suddenly and for no apparent reason. This is part of his condition and doesn't mean a thing. After Albert had laughed like this three times, Martin beat him up, so badly that he knocked out two of Albert's teeth and hurt him quite seriously. They were his first teeth, just the same ... Albert's parents came to see me. They reported it to the city board and I was severely rebuked for my educational methods."
"I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Dr. Freund." "Don't be sorry. Tm constantly being rebuked by the board. Fortunately I have a thick skin." "But what's going to happen now?" "I have spoken to Martin and punished him...." "How?"
"I have forbidden him to come to school tomorrow," said Dr. Freund. "He took it hard. And Toni and Use have promised to think what else we can do."
"And you think Toni and Ilse can find a solution?" He looked at me, astonishment written all over his face. 'Who else?"
Toni and Use, however, didn't come up with a solution, at least not right away. Martin stayed home from school the following day, angry and silent. On December 11th he went back. During the 10 o'clock recess, he beat up Albert again. His reason: "Albert reported me. Because of him I had to miss a day of school."
"So," said Dr. Freund. "And you like to come to school so much that you can't forgive Albert for having made you miss a day?"
Martin nodded. "Yes, Herr Doktor. And now I suppose I'll have to miss another day."
Dr. Freund shook his head. "On the contrary. Now Albert is going to miss a day. He can't come tomorrow because he's in no condition to come after what you did to him. You may come if you apologize to him and if you promise to behave tomorrow."
"I'll apologize, Herr Doktor, and I promise to behave.'*
Martin fulfilled the first part of his promise. He visited Albert at his home and brought him a box of candy, and the boys shook hands. He did not fulfill the second part. Next day he beat up a little girl. "She laughed at me."
"And why did she laugh at you?"
"Because I went to see Albert and apologized. She said I was a coward."
"Please leave the room, Martin," said Dr. Freund. "You no longer interest me."
"But I can't help it, Herr Doktor!" There was panic in the boy's voice.
"You broke your word. I have nothing more to say to you. Please go back to your classroom."
Martin left. As he closed the door, he was sobbing. A little later Toni and Use walked in. "Herr Doktor, we have a plan."
"Yes?"
"I think we can help Martin.**
"How?"
"Use and a few other girls have been watching him, and they've found out that he loves dried apricots. So ev-
ery child is going to contribute twenty groschen of his pocket money, and with it we'll buy dried apricots. Then Ilse is going to tell Martin: if you don't beat anybody up today, we are going to give you a bag of dried apricots at noon."
At noon on the following day I saw Martin, with Ilse, out on the sports field. I could watch them from Dr. Freund's oflBce. She-gave him a httle bag of apricots and he ate all of them up. On that day he didn't molest anybody.
The following day, the same thing happened, and the next two days brought no further act of violence. On the fourth day, however. Use came to see Dr. Freund again-She looked troubled. "We don't know what to do."
"What's wrong?"
"Our money's gone. We can't buy any more apricots. Would you have four schillings you could lend us?"
Dr. Freund's eyes brightened. "Of course I have four schillings I could lend you. But I have an idea. What do you say to this? Tomorrow morning, at eight o'clock, you tell Martin the truth—^that you don't have any more money and he therefore won't get any more apricots."
Ilse nodded. StiU she looked worried. "But don't you think then he'll beat Albert up again?"
"We'U see," said Dr. Freund.
Next morning I waited in the small projection room behind one of the openings. Dr. Freund was standing beside me. On the other side of the wall, directly under us, Ilse was talking to Martin. She v/as telling him the truth. Martin hesitated for a moment, then he said indifferently, "So what! I don't want to eat apricots every day anyway. It's aU right."
And Martin didn't beat anybody up although he knew there would be no reward. It looked as if the crisis was over.
"The only thing Fm worried about," said Dr. Freund, "is Saturday."
"Why?"
"Every Saturday the whole class gets together and discusses the week just past. If Ilse isn't big enough to keep her achievement to herself, or if one of the children tells the apricot story, Martin may feel he is being made fun of again, and we're back where we started."
"May I be present?"
"Certainly."
On Saturday afternoon, therefore, T sat in the classroom for the first time. The children reported the week's events: they had saved a cat's life; Gerda's mother had declared her daughter couldn't go hiking in the woods with the others any longer on Sunday. Gerda was too old for that sort of thing.
"So?"
"So we asked her if she was forbidding it because not only girls but boys were going too."
"And?"
"And she said yes, that was why she wouldn't let Gerda go."
"And what did you say to that?"
"We told her if she was worried about it, she should come with us."
"And is she coming with you?"
"Yes, Herr Doktor, She's coming tomorrow. And next Sunday Hans's mother is coming, and then another mother, until they've all had a chance. Then we start all over again with Gerda's mother."
"That was a good idea," said Dr. Freund. He looked around. "Did anything else happen?"
"Yes, Herr Doktor:' Little Ilse with the black braids stood up. Here we go, I thought.
"And what was it?"
"You know what Martin did, don't you?"
Martin was staring straight ahead. He looked abysmally ashamed of himself.
"Yes, Use, I know."
"We talked to him, Herr Doktor,'* said wonderful, adorable, clever little Use, "and he's promised that from
now on he's going to behave." Then she sat down again.
Dr. Freund wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. "Thank you," he said with emphasis. "That was a good week for everybody."
Use looked at Martin. She was smiling. Martin reddened. Then he smiled back. It was the beginning of his first friendship.
15
"Come with me," said Dr. Freund when the children's conference was over and we were out in the hall again, "I've got something I must tell you."
I followed him into his ofl5ce. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk. I could see a bottle of Steinhager. He opened it, fetched two glasses and filled them. "Have a drink with me."
"Gladly."
We drank. He filled our glasses again. "I'm happy," he said and sat down.
"So I've noticed."
"I didn't want to tell you at first, because it doesn't really concern you. But I just can't keep it to myself, and since you are interested in my work . . ."
"So tell me. What is it?"
He leaned forward and said solemnly, "We have received money."
"Money?" I repeated, astounded. (I felt I was playing my part very well.) "Where from? How much?"
"All in all, 700,000 schillings," he said, almost in a whisper. "And we have no idea where from. From an anonymous donor."
Quite evidently deeply moved, he took off his glasses and wiped them. "I didn't think things Hke that happened any more."
My heart was beating fast. I had the feeling that one must be able to read on my face wher
e the money came from, I was so excited and suddenly so happy. But I continued to play my game. "Just a minute," I said, frowning, "that's an enormous sum of money."
"It certainly is."
"You're telling me that an unknown donor has presented you with 700,000 schilUngs?"
"Yes, Herr Frank. I'm telling you just that." He emptied his glass again. I could see he was perspiring. He lit a cigarette hastily. "None of us could believe it. We still can't understand it. But it's true."
I closed my eyes. At that moment I would have liked to die. "Congratulations," I said, in a choked voice, and stretched out my hand. He shook it vigorously. Now I could see he wasn't perspiring; those were tears on his cheeks. "Excuse me," he said, wiping them away. "It's stupid of me, I know, but it's because I'm so happy."
"I understand. And ... and what are you going to do with the money?"
He grinned. "Build the hotel, Herr Frank. We'll start right after Christmas. By spring it will be ready."
"But do you have enough money for that?"
"No. But we have almost enough. We can take out a loan for the rest. That'll do it."
"I'm happy for you," I said.
He looked at me. "I believe you, Herr Frank. And do you know what else we're going to do with the money?"
"What?"
"We're going to give a Christmas party," he said gaily. "The biggest and most wonderful Christmas party we've ever had."
And he did just that.
It was a fairy tale Christmas party. There was nothing worldly about it. All the children and their parents were
invited. It took place in the gymnasium. The guests sat at long tressle tables. On a dais stood a Christmas tree with a hundred candles. On the wall behind it, in gold letters, you could read, "Peace on earth. Good will to all men."
There was music. Cake, Hot chocolate. Fruit. And presents. Every child received a bag of candy, a gift certificate for a pair of shoes, another for a dress or suit There were tears of joy and laughter, screams of delight, and deep sighs of satisfaction. The parents sat quietly among their children and smiled at each other. Then the children gave a play. Holy Eve it was called. Martin had a part. He wore a long white beard and was one of the three Magi. When the play was over, everybody applauded, and Martin bowed with the others, again and again. He was still bowing after the others had left the stage and he was standing on it all alone.
I Confess Page 29