by PJ Skinner
‘Okay, I’ll get packed.’
‘I hope we can get there in time. If the Nazi’s didn’t kill him, that means they are keeping him alive for some reason. At least we know where to look now. Fingers crossed.’
A shiver ran up Sam’s spine as she remembered Saul Rosen’s missing fingers. It seemed to her that Alfredo had been reprieved for some sinister purpose that hadn’t yet become apparent and a feeling of dread swamped any passing euphoria at the news of his survival. To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.
CHAPTER 19
London September 1988
Hannah had never felt so bad. She was used to getting her own way. Being the older and more beautiful sister, she got a lot of positive attention as a child, making her feel invincible. Sam had not represented competition in the beginning. Hannah was the centre of attention and Sam was left trailing in her wake. That lasted until the trip to Sierramar, and the Indiana Jones-like adventure she had. After that, Hannah had lost her advantage, as her mundane job and string of pointless boyfriends paled beside Sam’s career. She had become short tempered and resorted to sabotage to get the better of her sister as she felt the spotlight shifting away. Sam, who didn’t have a jealous bone in her body, was unaware of this shift, which would, in any case, have made her feel uncomfortable.
For Hannah, Simon was the last straw. What on earth could he see in Sam that Hannah didn’t have more of, and better quality? She was mystified and envious. When Simon had come to her house, she saw her opportunity to prove her superiority. She didn’t like him that much, although he did have an animal magnetism that made her feel sick, she had intended to seduce him and then blackmail him into leaving Sam for good. She had been drunk at the time and had not examined the ramifications of her plan before it was consummated. She hadn’t expected to like him. Or for him to like her.
When Sam had dropped her bombshell about the pregnancy, Hannah was horrified. She managed to get to the end of the conversation without blurting out the truth. The awful reality of what she had done to her only sister, who had never done her any harm and had always supported her, sunk in. She realised what a vile coward Simon was. He had come to her house to tell her about the pregnancy but been side-tracked by the possibility of a quick shag. Now, he was screwed by his own libido. How were they going to talk their way out of this one? What if Sam wanted to keep the baby? Worse still, would she ever talk to Hannah again if she found out?
There was only one thing to do. Nothing. She would wait and see who cracked first. Either Sam would decide not to have the baby or Simon would have to tell Hannah the truth about Sam’s pregnancy. Either way, if she did nothing, there were no consequences to be faced. She could support Sam through the abortion or blame Simon for seducing her when he knew Sam was pregnant. It seemed to her that she was in a win-win situation if she sat on her hands.
Simon turned out to be the weakest link and came to her house a couple of days later. She heard his timid knock on the door as she was folding her laundry in the kitchen. Opening the front door, she was surprised to find him standing there with a large bunch of flowers. It made her even more irritated.
‘Why are you here?’
Simon’s face fell.
‘Wow. That’s not the welcome I was expecting.’
‘I suppose you thought that I’d fall down in the hall with my legs open if you brought me some flowers?’
‘Please. Don’t say things like that. It’s unfair.’
‘Unfair? So, you think I’m being unfair? That’s interesting coming from a man who forgot to tell me that his girlfriend, my sister, is pregnant with his baby.’
‘She told you? Oh, Christ. Let me in. I need to explain.’
‘Yes, you do, because I’m pretty confused right now.’ She headed for the kitchen, Simon following her with his redundant gift. Nodding her head towards a kitchen stool, she went back to folding her laundry.
‘Okay, I’m listening.’
Simon looked trapped. He kneaded his hands together as if trying to extract the blame from them. ‘It’s not that easy to explain. The truth is that I’ve always fancied you and when you came on so strong, I thought it would be the only chance I’d ever have to be with you. I know that it was selfish and stupid.’
‘You’ve got that right.’
‘But I haven’t. Because now that I’ve been with you, and I know you better. I don’t want it to be the last time.’
‘But Sam is pregnant. You can’t walk away from her.’
‘I don’t know that Sam is pregnant. She only said that she might be. I'm hoping she isn’t, and anyway, there's no chance she’ll keep it. Sam is not maternal in any way and that was part of the attraction. For a man like me, a woman who doesn’t want to get married and have children straight away is a big bonus. But the bits of Sam that I like, you have them, too. And more.’
‘So, what are you saying, Simon?’
‘I think I chose the wrong sister.’
***
Matilda Harris was fretting. She had a terrible secret. There was no way that she could keep quiet without tearing herself in half. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget what she had seen. She had decided to drop some of Hannah’s belongings at her flat one morning on her way into town. It was quite early but she knew her daughter would be at home on a Saturday so she didn’t bother letting her know that she was coming. Pulling in to the pavement near the house where Hannah lived, she noticed the front door opening. She was about to wave at her when Simon came out. This was odd but not as awful as what happened next. Hannah followed him out in her pyjamas. He turned around, took her in his arms and kissed her passionately before leaving. Waving back at her, he failed to see Matilda Harris parked beside the pavement as he walking past whistling.
‘I couldn’t believe my eyes,’ she told her husband. ‘I was so shocked, I slid down in my seat so he didn’t spot me.’
‘What did Hannah say about it?’
‘I couldn’t face her and I drove off again.’
‘Did she see you?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Christ. What a mess. What on earth is going on? Does Sam know?’
‘Simon won’t have told her while she was in Sierramar. She’ll be looking forward to seeing him after being away.’
‘Poor old Sam. She never has any luck. What are you going to do?’
‘Do?’ She sighed and pushed back her hair. ‘I don’t know what to do. Hannah is so selfish. She always gets her own way, but I never thought it would come to this. I suppose I’d better talk to her. It’s not going to be pretty.’
‘Rather you than me. I would offer to talk to Simon but you know what I think of him. I might do something stupid.’
‘I feel like slapping her. She’s gone too far this time. I can’t understand where we went wrong. They are so different, I sometimes wonder if one of them got swapped in the hospital.’
‘Except that they look like twins.’
‘Well, Hannah definitely qualifies as the evil twin right now. I’m going to give her a good talking to.’
‘And Sam?’
CHAPTER 20
Alfredo September 1988
Alfredo came to on the floor, shivering from a combination of shock and cold in his tiny prison. His body felt stiff and sore. From where he lay, he could see a chamber pot under one of the camp beds, surrounded by the corpses of beetles and millipedes. He reached underneath and pulled it out. Levering himself up on the bedframe, he relieved himself into the pot and pushed it back under the bed. It got stuck on something protruding from the concrete, and urine splashed over the side and floated a couple of insects off the dusty floor. He snorted in disgust. Sitting on the opposite bed, he reviewed the contents of the room in the strong moonlight that entered from the roof down a mirrored funnel. There were two beds, with thin blankets, and a table, beneath which was pushed a rickety-looking wooden chair. The walls were whitewashed and flaking onto the floor which was painted red and ha
d an odd sheen. A single bulb hung from the ceiling. He pushed his shoes off, dropping them between the beds, but kept the rest of his clothes on. Crawling into bed, he wondered if this was a dream. It did seem real but he couldn’t quite focus on his surroundings which made him doubt its existence. It was freezing. He sat up again and reached across and took the second blanket from the other bed and pulled it over himself. There was no pillow, so he rolled up his waxed jacket with the cotton lining on the outside. Lying in the moonlight, he forced himself to shut his eyes and slow his breathing and he was soon asleep.
The next morning, he awoke exhausted and disorientated, traumatised by the events of the night before. Where was Saul? There was something wrong but he could not remember what it was or why he was sleeping in this tiny room. He caught sight of his shirt cuff, covered in dried blood. Lots of it. Was he injured? He couldn’t be sure, but he felt no pain. He waited for something to happen. When someone knocked on the door of his room, he was gripped by fear and could not answer. His heart was hammering out of control even though he was lying in bed. He pulled the blankets right up to his nose exposing his feet. The door swung open and a man stood looking at him. Alfredo stared back. He was sure that he knew this man but he was confused. Trying to stand, the room spun and he sank to the bed again. ‘Are you feeling unwell, Dr Vargas?’ A voice floated across the room. Alfredo smiled as it landed on his bed and purred in his ear. Then he fainted again.
***
The first days of his captivity went by in a blur. It became apparent to his captors that he was suffering from shock. Dr Becker made him stay in bed under some old covers. They gave him soup and hot sweet drinks laced with sleeping pills. When he surfaced, he was clammy and filthy, still wearing the same clothes as on the night he was captured. He surveyed the room as if he had never seen it before and was surprised to see Kurt Becker standing in the doorway.
‘Dr Vargas, welcome back. How are you feeling?’
‘I think a troll has taken up residence in my mouth but apart from that, not too bad.’
‘I regret to inform you that your colleague is dead and that you will soon join him. However, I don’t see why your last days should be miserable. You do not deserve your fate, you were a pawn in Mr Rosen’s game.’
Alfredo digested this information. He felt at a disadvantage lying in his bed and he made a big effort to pull off the covers and swing his feet down to the floor.
‘I’m a dead man walking? So why did you keep me alive?’
‘I may need you.’
‘It’s nice to feel needed,’ said Alfredo, with patent insincerity that went right over the top of Becker’s head.
‘Well, I am alone here, except for the guards. If you promise not to attempt to escape, I will allow you to come and go in the laboratory at your leisure. Indeed, since there is no chance of you ever telling anyone what we are doing here, I am willing to share our story with you. As a historian, I think you are in a privileged position to be at the making of the future as well as understanding the past.’
‘Until you kill me.’
‘Yes, there is that disadvantage but I can make sure that it’s painless.’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No. I mean, you can stay in this room until you die if you prefer, but that’s the alternative.
Alfredo was struck by the thought that Kurt Becker was bored and not following orders. If Becker could be convinced of the futility of murdering him, he might stand a chance and he was always being told how witty and charming he was. This was the acid test of his character. It was a bit like an exam where you either passed or failed, except that it was life or death. Alfredo chose life.
‘I’d love some breakfast,’ he said.
‘Will you eat eggs?’ said Becker as if he were hosting a weekend in the country.
Breakfast was delicious. Alfredo was embarrassed at how much he enjoyed it. And the condemned man devoured a last meal. Dr Becker looked at him as if to say something but stopped.
‘What?’ said Alfredo, ‘what did you want to ask me?’
‘I was wondering what our friend Mr. Rosen told you about me.’
‘He said that you sent his family to Auschwitz, and that he had escaped from the transport but that his sister and parents had gone on to die in the concentration camp. Is it true?’
‘Yes. I was acting under orders, you know.’
‘Ah, that old chestnut. I hope you are going to be frank with me or I would rather die now,’ he drawled.
Dr Becker looked startled, and unable to find a suitable retort, he roared with laughter. Alfredo was a little disconcerted. He realised that the man was like a cat toying with his prey, thrilled to see it running away far enough to slam a paw on its tail to make it more exciting. Resistance is futile, schweinhund.
Dr Becker stood up.
‘Come on, bring your coffee with you and I’ll tell you a story.’
They walked into the laboratory and Dr Becker gestured at an old armchair.
‘Sit there. Oh, by the way, there are some clean clothes on your bed and the toilet is down the hall to the right. It has a handheld shower with hot water in one corner. It’s a bit primitive but it works. Use it when you like. Please don’t do anything foolish or I will be forced to shoot you.’
Alfredo sat down, changed his mind and stood up again.
‘I’ll go now if it’s okay with you,’ he said.
When Alfredo came back from his shower, Dr Becker had put on his lab coat and a pair of surgical gloves and he was absorbed in his work. Alfredo was horrified to see that he was removing the flesh from what looked like a finger. The finger was long and thin and fresh. Nauseated, he shut his eyes and tried to pretend that he hadn’t seen it. Inside he knew. It’s meat now. Saul is gone. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Dr Becker was still working on his gory task.
‘Why did you come here?’ asked Dr Becker. ‘What did you hope to gain?’
‘We were investigating a report that a group of high ranking Nazi officers, who are wanted by the War Crimes Commission, had escaped to Sierramar at the end of the war. Saul had heard that you were one of them and he enlisted me to help him find you. My friend Ramon Vega gave me a copy of his research, which backed up the story about the fugitives arriving here, and then he was murdered in a fire. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?’
Dr Becker did not answer.
‘Saul was trying to find you so that he could get his revenge for his family. I didn’t know that was his plan,’ said Alfredo, ‘I thought we were trying to track down the whole group.’
‘He nearly succeeded.’
‘What happened last night?’
‘It was last week. You have been asleep for days. He shot Hans from the operating table, and killed him I’m afraid.’
‘You couldn’t save him?’
‘Hans? No.’
‘I meant Saul.’
‘We didn’t try.’
‘What’s so secret that he had to die? The war has been over for decades. Couldn’t you have let him go? He was pretty harmless.’
‘I can see that you have no idea what we are trying to achieve here. You pair of idiots almost ruined our plans.’
‘Achieve? I thought you were in hiding from the authorities.’ And what could they achieve in a cheese-making, lederhosen-wearing village in the Andes?
‘God, that’s unfortunate. We are so close, and to think we were almost foiled by a pair of ignorant, glory hunters.’
‘I resent being called ignorant, although I can see your point. I’ve no clue what you're doing in this laboratory. We didn't expect to stumble across an amateur science project run by a bunch of Nazis.’
Dr Becker was not amused and drew himself to his full height.
‘Be careful, Dr Vargas. If you cross the line, you cannot come back.’
‘I apologise. I get sarcastic when I'm nervous, and you have me at a disadvantage.’
‘I understand. It appears that you have an En
glish sense of humour. Did you go to school there?’
‘So I’m told. It’s a bit of a blur due to the amount of drink I consumed being proportional to the number of memory cells that I have obliterated.’
‘Well, you won’t need to remember any of this. I’ll start at the beginning, shall I?’
Alfredo was struck by the parallels with his conversation with Saul and felt like crying. He took a deep breath.
‘I’m listening.’
***
Lying in his bed that night Alfredo wondered if Gloria had realised that he should have been back by then. His regret at not leaving her a detailed note of their itinerary and how long they would be away increased as he reviewed the missed opportunities to speak to her and tell her where he was. He knew how resourceful she was but she was not psychic. Her absence felt like a surgically removed body part. The ache in his heart was not reduced by the knowledge of his forthcoming execution. He still held out hope that he could somehow prevent it but with what he knew now, he had to be realistic. Dr Becker would have to kill him and he was pretty sure that Boris Klein would carry out the execution without a qualm. It was a pity that they were wasting their talents in a laboratory stuck in a hillside in the middle of nowhere but there was no doubt that the central idea was the product of insane minds stuck in the past.
‘We’ll start with the basic science behind our project. Have you ever heard of Dolly the sheep?’ asked Dr Becker.
‘Dolly the sheep? Yes, isn’t that the animal that was raised from a cloned egg?’
‘Yes, so you understand the principal of cloning?’
‘No, not really. Perhaps you could elaborate?
‘Dolly was remarkable because she was the first mammal to be cloned from an adult cell, an udder cell to be precise. The DNA in the cell was removed from the cell and injected into an unfertilized egg cell which had already been emptied of its DNA content. The material and the egg cell were fused using electric pulses. This is the technique that we are using here.’
‘But I heard that there were hundreds of failures. Dolly was unique and as far as I know, they haven’t managed to produce another healthy adult sheep. Is this technology reliable?’