Prisoner 441

by Geoff Leather

  ‘As usual, Annie, this looks magnificent,’ said Campbell as he served generous portions for both of them. Annie brought around the vegetables, serving Campbell first then Jonny.

  She smiled to Campbell

  ‘Where would I be without you, Annie?’

  ‘I must thank you for seeing me and being generous with your time. You suggested we talk as we eat. Did you mean that?’

  ‘Hang on a moment. Let me turn these damn hearing aids up. Ah that’s better. Of course, but don’t let the food go cold.’

  Jonny told Campbell about his research into Solomon’s death and Campbell related what Jonny already knew about the interrogations after the war ended in Germany when he was in intelligence and the meeting with Solomon and the subsequent return to Britain, but Jonny wanted to move on to something that had been troubling him since there was so sign of Schatzi Campbell and no mention of him since he arrived for lunch. Hoping not to upset his host and remembering the photograph taken at Solomon’s funeral, Jonny plunged in.

  ‘I saw you with a younger man at the funeral, I assume that was your son, Stuart?’

  There was a long pause while Campbell keep eating. Finally, his fork hovered over his plate and moved his chair back a little, crossing his legs and lifting his glass of wine to take a large sip.

  ‘Yes, that was Schatzi?’

  He told Jonny how they couldn’t have children and how his wife, Naomi, had fallen for this orphaned little boy.

  ‘Jonny, there were thousands of children who found themselves abandoned, orphaned or lost in Germany after the war ended. Families had posters put up all over the country. The British Government estimated that there were over 50,000 orphans. We found many just wandering the countryside as we drove around. Some living in trees, boxes, abandoned houses, sheds and anywhere that offered them shelter. It was devastatingly sad. Many, we took to rescue centers.’

  ‘How were you expected to cope?’

  ‘Sadly, it wasn’t my job. I personally couldn’t do anything. Naomi realised the awful lack of help for these youngsters and did her best to encourage short term fostering from places as far away as the Netherlands and Belgium. It was quite a task. Many wanted to adopt but without papers and searching records, it wasn’t possible in case someone returned to claim their child. Many of the records were destroyed in the saturate bombing from our side at the beginning of the end.

  ‘It was difficult enough for me to organise for the Solomon family’s paperwork to allow them into Britain. There were still restrictions on Jewish immigration from before the war.’

  ‘Naomi must have taken a chance with Schatzi. Did you adopt?’

  ‘No, we couldn’t. We fostered Schatzi to begin with and then adopted him years later when there was no evidence of any family being found alive.’

  Jonny savoured the last mouthful of the lamb stew for a moment.

  ‘Did you or your wife know about Schatzi’s prodigious mind when you fostered him and brought him to Britain?’

  ‘Yes, in a way. One of my colleague’s wife was a psychologist and they talked about him at length before we brought him to England. Then in London we learned more at Great Ormond Street Children’s hospital. The first thing to be done was to overcome the long term physical and intellectual effect that this war had on Schatzi. It was severe to say the least. He’d survived the Allied bombing campaign against Munich. Almost all the schools, hospitals and teachers had disappeared. His body was suffering from malnutrition, although the nuns did their best, supplies were short.’

  ‘How long were you in Germany?’

  ‘Two years on and off. Naomi came home first with the necessary paperwork for the fostering of Schatzi and I stayed on chasing war criminals, with some success thanks to Solomon’s amazing ability to remember and recall events and faces, but some did get away in the chaos, I’m sad to say, especially that evil man, Mengele.

  ‘You never talked to him afterwards about the indictments issued for war crimes, I assume.’

  ‘No, I couldn’t. Actually, I kept my own diary. I know I shouldn’t have but…. Bit of a mess, I fear.’

  Stuart Campbell pushed his plate away and walked and picked up a tattered notebook from inside his roll-top bureau.

  ‘You can borrow this. It’s not for the public domain, even after all these years. Background, shall we say,’ said Campbell as he sat down and handed it to Jonny.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll read it later.’

  ‘Stuart, one thing has been puzzling me. Were you required at Solomon’s trial. It could have been thought that as you were responsible for him being seconded to Porton Down that you were in some way responsible for what happened. Is that a fair comment?’

  ‘No. I mean, yes. it’s a fair comment, but remember, he was vetted by MI6. He wouldn’t have got the research job without their say so.’

  ‘What happened after Solomon was convicted, to you, I mean?’

  ‘The University was pressured by MI6. I sure of that, but I was allowed to continue teaching but only academic stuff. Demoted you may say. Eventually, I was pensioned off, bags packed, office cleared. Gone, far too young to retire.’ said Campbell. ‘Yes, Jonny, I was angry, very angry.’

  Nothing in his voice changed but Jonny was sure, whatever Campbell said, he blamed Solomon Isaacs for what happened.

  ‘And how are you coping with Schatzi now?’ said Jonny changing the subject.

  ‘Since Naomi died six months ago, he’s become, how shall I say, ‘lost’. She made him well enough to cope with life and achieve some great work, but I’m afraid to say I’m too frail and too old to guide him at the moment. Annie does her best, but she’s not a Naomi. Solomon’s funeral was the first time I had succeeded in getting him out of the house since she died.

  He stays in his study most of the time now working on some scientific challenge relating to the treatment of Alzheimers using stem cells. He tells me what he’s doing and the theory seems as if it should work in practice, so I have told him to get back in touch with the University and ask them to put it to the test. They started testing two months ago. It could be a major breakthrough, if he’s right and very often he is.’

  ‘It may not be appropriate, but can I meet him? You said you’d told him I was coming so it wouldn’t be so unsettling.’

  Ignoring the request, slowly Campbell pushed himself upright grabbing his stick from beside the chair, his knee creaking under years of usage and the weight of his own body.

  ‘Old age is a battlefield, Jonny and one we do not survive,’ he said as he straightened and turned and wandered slowly over to a bureau, again took the keys from his pocket and opened the top drawer. He handed a tattered glue notebook to Jonny.

  ‘Naomi’s diary. Another part of our story, Jonny. There’s not much left for me now so maybe it can be of some help to you in finding the murderer although I’m not sure how.’

  Jonny wasn’t sure either, maybe the next question would help.

  ‘Stuart, daft question, I suppose,’ said Jonny innocently, ‘but most war veterans keep souvenirs from their time in the forces. Do you have any?’

  ‘Oh, I kept an old Walther P38, but haven’t seen it since we moved here years ago?

  Chapter 42

  London

  Back in London, Jonny, moved Campbell’s photograph on the board. He ticked “motive” and “weapon” from his interview with Stuart Campbell but the man he’d seen disappearing into the street after the shooting was too nimble, or was he? “Motive”, Campbell’s University position was certainly ruined by Solomon’s whistle-blowing and even if he was old he undoubtedly still have connections to the intelligence service. Jonny scratched his brow and sat down, opening Naomi’s diary.

  Jonny opened the first page. It was headed ‘How shall we cope?’

  Saw Ruth’s boss today, Professor William Caines, Head of the Child Psychology Department. Very polite. She’d told him a lot about Schatzi and how we’d been allowed to foster him. He asked lots of question abou
t Schatzi. I told him everything I could.

  Without too much patronising, he told me that Stuart and I are blessed with such a child but there’ll be many times that we won’t believe him. At seven, he would have preferred to help him earlier but said it’s never too late. He told me that lot of his colleagues, in the field, have a great deal to say about Schatzi’s condition so I must read as much as I can.

  I asked if everyone like Schatzi were the same and needed the same treatment. Each case is different. If in doubt ask me. Regular weekly consultations started. Schatzi was apprehensive at the first two meetings but soon couldn’t wait to see Bill, as he called him.

  The next page was headed “New beginnings”. Jonny was starting to understand how difficult life was becoming for Stuart and Naomi Campbell.

  Professor Caines confirmed that Schatzi’s condition was incurable and would last his lifetime. I remember the words “He’ll never outgrow the problem”. We would have to be there for him as long as he trod this earth. I was determined from the day I fell in love with Schatzi in the orphanage convent in Munich, that I would accept and enjoy the quirks that made me laugh out loud on that first day. ‘Wow’. I laughed again to myself today remembering that short introduction to my life with my son. It probably won’t be the last time this little word lights up a bad day with him.

  I cannot compare Schatzi with others, he is too bright, even for Stuart, with all his University degrees, let alone Professor Caines, Bill, to understand. Today, I vowed to myself again that come what may, our child was going to be unconditionally loved and accepted. It’s not difficult to remember Professor Caines’ words sometimes. They seem to be absorbed word by word for later. Today, he said that there will be times when you feel uncomfortable and intellectually troubled. Always remember, the first time he hesitated then stroked your hand. He needs you, you’re his protection, his programme of routine, you organise his life so that when he wants you, he can come. That’s his security. He hates disruption, unscheduled changes. I know you have created a safety zone at home. He needs this to feel safe and secure. One step at a time.

  Jonny was both troubled and uplifted. He couldn’t, in all honesty, imagine that he could find the strength to do what Naomi did for Schatzi.

  I’ve tried to be as consistent as I can, but it troubles me that he may not respond in the same way in new environments as he grows. When we went to Professor Caines’ last session, the buses were not running so we had to go by black cab. Schatzi threw a tantrum. He refused to get into the black cab. He’s been in cars before, but this was different. People in the street thought I was abusing him in some way as I grappled to force him. Several passers-by stopped to watch, uncertain what was going on. It felt awful. I felt awful. I told the taxi man to leave. Schatzi quietened as I held him tightly, stroking his head. Then he said something that made me take his hands in mine before we walked for a while. I thought I was going to die if I had to get in that black hole, Mummy. In Black Holes, you get sucked in as they implode. Why did God invent them?’

  The next page was headed ‘His Disability is an Ability? I need to….’ Naomi had never finished the heading. Maybe she never knew whether she could accept this truth, if it was one.

  He relies on me. We went for a drive. He stared out of the window to the side watching the images fly by merging into each other, mesmerising, his eyes flicking back and forth. It would have made me feel sick, but he seemed to be memorising each individual item as it passed by. Suddenly, he said to me that I was his foundation and what he’d become would be down to mummy. I said to him that we should see how far we could go together. Then came one of those Schatzi moments. When we were driving home, a car overtook us, I said, ‘he’s got his foot to the floor’. Schatzi started stamping his foot onto the floor, saying, so have I mummy. He didn’t stop till we got home.

  I must be careful how I speak to him.

  Jonny leafed through the pages picking out bits and pieces over the years.

  How will I not let him down? I bought him some new science books. Stuart had recommended them. I still marvel at his ability to concentrate to the exclusion of all else for hours on end. He forgets to eat so I have to remind him and bring him to the table. Today, it was a six-hour marathon read of ‘Advances in Medical Science’. He is only ten now, I need to remind myself. As we were eating, he said, ‘as Dad’s not here, Mum, can you tell me if I’m going to live forever, now that they think they have discovered something called the aging gene. What if I was able to manipulate it for you and me to live longer? I told him to talk to Dad as I thought it may be an interesting line of experiment.

  I’m feeling sad tonight. Schatzi asked if, when his real mum gave birth to him, he hurt her by being so big. I told him it would have been a very joyful time and any natural pain would have been forgotten immediately as he lay on her body and she cuddled him. He then put out his arms and I cuddled him. He lay his head on my body. I don’t know if he was remembering. I think he was because he said that he’d died just then and come back to me.

  Mummy, why do I find it difficult to play with other children? Do you? Yes. You’re just very sensitive. Do you want me to show you how? He was silent. I must learn how to teach him to play in structured groups to begin with. I’ll arrange a birthday party for him.

  Today was his birthday. Eight children were invited and all of them came. Schatzi was the centre of attention and loving it, until the music started. I could see he was in difficulty when he put his hands over his head then seconds later as I got to him, he banged both fists against the table in the restaurant. We had to end early.

  Why did we have to leave my party early? He’d forgotten what had happened. Be positive. You have huge advantages over other children. You can hear, smell, taste and touch much better than me or Dad. That means sometimes, if they all come at once, like at your party, you need to shut them off. That’s what you did. It worked.

  I am trying to teach him to read social clues from the outside not the inside. There’s no magic pill, as Professor Caines told me very early on. He’s been a rock and full of good advice. We don’t go to see him now that Schatzi is older. One day I’ll take him back but not now. I know that I am to Schatzi, that in his own way, his heartbeat and the centre of his universe, as he has become mine, that’s why today was a real breakthrough. He’d just finished reading ‘Is God real?’ and put the book down. ‘Mum, you must let me make my own judgements and mistakes’. I don’t believe in God anymore; he has made too many faulty judgements.

  London University have asked Schatzi and me to an interview. It’s got nothing to do with Stuart, in fact, it’s not his College. He wanted no input, but he does know details. He’s very proud. All he said was that Schatzi was very young to be considered but they really didn’t have any choice, his results were prodigiously good. Stuart and I know he’s a genius and they are about to find out.

  We waited outside the admissions office at Senate House London. I’d bought a suit for Schatzi. He felt uncomfortable but eventually I persuaded him it was the right social thing to do. He could wear his old jeans and scruffy sweatshirt once he had been accepted. Mum you have to be with me to begin with. Of course, I’m your foundation, so you said. You are. He laughed. The preliminary chit chat was unbearable for Schatzi. He fidgeted and moved around in his chair as if plagued by ants. Things changed when he was asked about his aspirations. For the next ten minutes Schatzi was lost in his world. Explaining the theory and detailed experiments he wanted to undertake to establish a myriad of still unknown facts about DNA.

  A letter came this morning addressed to Mr S Campbell. On the back was the insignia of The University of London. You open it, mum. It simply said that Professor Hutton would be delighted if Mr S Campbell would join his team and study for his undergraduate degree at the same time as the preparing for his Doctorate in the field of genetics on a subject matter to be agreed after further discussion with his colleagues.

  Jonny put down the Naomi’s journal.
Even he was tempted to say, “wow”.

  Chapter 43

  Hampshire England

  Jonny closed the blinds to shut out the gloomy evening sky and poured himself a whiskey. Campbell had possession of a Walther. Jonny hadn’t seen it. Where was it now?

  Jonny sat down and started to read through Campbell’s notebook. Jonny’s gut instinct told him there was something here somewhere and Jonny’s instincts were usually right. After he read them, he was struck by the sheer numbers of individuals that Solomon had described and their crimes. All those responsible were named. Jonny recognised many of those named from the manuscript, others were unknown to him.

  He knew about the two Jewish prisoners who were accused of brutality and murder against their own people in Auschwitz. Gurt and Elsie Heidmann. Strangely, Campbell had made a comment `Solomon very uptight here’. What did Campbell mean? Campbell would expect another call from him now he’d read the diary. Perhaps this time, he could meet Schatzi.

  He’d never been able to meet Doctor Schatzi Campbell. On the spur of the moment, he rang Stuart Campbell to thank him for lunch and to ask him what his notes meant by the use of the words “Solomon very uptight here”. Annie answered the telephone.

  ‘Oh, Mr Wightman. It’s terrible.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Schatzi’s dead. The police are here and the local doctor. After you left, I went to give him his evening meal and there he was lying on the floor. Mr Campbell is devastated. He just won’t say anything coherent, so the doctor’s given him a sedative. Shock, you know.’