Mrs. Tuesday's Departure: A Historical Novel of World War Two

by Suzanne Elizabeth Anderson

  Gunter waved away his comment and walked to the windows on the other side of the room.

  “What do you have to offer in exchange for the women?” He ran his hand along the back of one of the chairs and leaned forward, pulling the drapes to one side. “Tell me how valuable are these women to you, Deszo?”

  “You overestimate the information I have access to,” Deszo said, not turning to face Gunter.

  “Mila is not too young to be of service to me or my men,” Gunter said.

  “She’s a child!” I cried.

  “She wouldn’t be the first,” Gunter replied as he continued to stare into the black night.

  Deszo put up his hand to silence my reply. This was insane. I thought of Mila and for a moment realized I would rather she die than face the torture of being used by these men. “Tell me what I can offer you,” I said. “I will take her place.”

  “Natalie,” Deszo warned. “Don’t.”

  “But not your sister?” Gunter turned from the curtain and looked across the room at me. “Not for your twin?”

  “Mila is a child.”

  Gunter ignored my response and turned toward Deszo. “You’re right, she has no place in these discussions. But I always enjoy the sound of a pleading woman.”

  “Then send her home, now.”

  Gunter considered and looked at me. “Do you want to go home Natalie?”

  “Not without Mila and Anna.”

  He smiled grimly and then shook his head. “Then you will have to stay a little longer.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Gunter looked out the window and sighed. “They are with others.”

  “Are they together?” I asked.

  He seemed to consider this question and then turned to me, “I don’t think so. Although, anything is possible.”

  “What do you mean by this?” I cried. “Are they alright? Are they still alive?”

  He picked up a heavy marble ashtray that sat on the small table between the two chairs and weighed it in his hands. “Why didn’t you ever have children, Natalie?”

  I swallowed hard, “I wasn’t able to.”

  “Is there something wrong with you?”

  “Max, my husband…”

  “He didn’t want children?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Anna told me that he was much older than you,” Gunter said, still examining the marble ashtray. “Perhaps he couldn’t have children.”

  “He wasn’t able to…” I said looking down at the tablecloth to hide my humiliation.

  “So Mila is like a daughter to you, yes?”

  “Yes,” I sighed.

  “What will you do if her mother sends for her? What will you do then? You will have lost both your husband and your daughter.”

  I remained silent, what was there to say?

  “You are still in love with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he is gone. On the other hand, you are lucky. From what your sister says, you and Deszo have resumed the romance you began in college.”

  I looked at Deszo, but he wouldn’t return my gaze.

  Gunter looked at both of us and continued, “Anna also said your husband was from Russia?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “It’s too bad he’s not alive today. He could greet his fellow countrymen when they arrive. I wonder if they would be happy to see him? Or would they consider him a traitor?”

  He put down the ashtray and went to the door of the suite. The young soldier who’d brought our meal stood at the door when Gunter opened it. They spoke to one another in low tones and then the soldier was gone.

  Gunter closed the door, walked back to the chairs near the window, and sat down. He pulled an ornate silver cigarette case out of his jacket, opened it and then made an elaborate ritual out of selecting one, snapping the cover shut, and then tapping the cigarette on the edge of the case. He smiled and then flicked the cover open again.

  “Excuse my manners. Deszo, would you join me over here for a smoke? Natalie, I think you’d be more comfortable if you remained at the table.”

  Deszo stood and walked across the room. He took one of the offered cigarettes and sat down in the chair next to Gunter.

  The door to the suite opened and the young soldier appeared again. He supported Jozef under the arms and helped the beaten young boy into the room.

  I rose from my seat to go to Jozef’s side.

  “Sit down.”

  “He’s hurt, he needs help.”

  “If you don’t sit down, I’ll have him killed right now,” Gunter said softly, as he stared at the boy and exhaled a grey stream of smoke.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  SLOWLY I RETURNED to my seat not taking my eyes from Jozef. His head bobbed listlessly against his chest. His face was covered with blood; the first bluish purple swelling of bruises and fractured bone spread across his nose and cheeks. His eyes were swollen shut. His arms hung uselessly at his sides. Gunter nodded toward Deszo’s chair and the soldier slid it from the table to the center of the room and then dropped Jozef into the seat so that he sat like a border between me and Deszo and Gunter.

  “Your first bargaining chip?” Deszo took a drag of his cigarette and appraised the damage.

  Gunter smiled and followed Deszo’s gaze. He cocked his head to one side, “My men are sloppy.”

  “Natalie might feel some maternal instinct toward him,” Deszo shrugged.

  “But he’s not your concern?”

  Deszo sighed and watched Jozef struggle to sit upright in the chair and then fail as his legs slipped out from under him. A long thin line of bloodied mucus ran from his nose to his chin and dangled toward his chest. “Anna and Mila are my concern.”

  “I understand that you are a frequent guest at the Swiss consulate.”

  Deszo took a folded handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it toward Jozef’s chair. The white square of cloth landed at Jozef’s feet.

  “I’d like to know if they are passing information on to the Allies, in addition to their manufacture of phony passports.”

  “Isn’t that a rhetorical question?” Deszo asked.

  Gunter tapped the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray and nodded. “Yes, but you know the substance of that information.”

  “You give me too much credit.”

  “I believe you are one of the suppliers.”

  “I’ve simply been trying to obtain passports for Natalie and Anna and Mila.”

  “That’s not what your young friend says.”

  Our eyes traveled to Jozef as if waiting confirmation. He shook his head and mumbled something unintelligible through swollen cracked lips.

  “I’ve met the boy once,” Deszo replied.

  “He says that he’s followed you.”

  “I’m not impressed,” Deszo said. “He has no way of knowing my conversations.”

  “As he is no use to you or to us, he is a liability.”

  Gunter rose and walked over to Jozef. He stood behind Jozef’s chair and pulled back his head by his hair, exposing his neck. The scar I’d seen on Gunter’s neck flashed before my eyes. Jozef moaned but his words were lost in a gurgle of blood that dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

  Gunter pulled a knife from his pocket and with a flick of his finger, exposed the long silvery blade.

  “Deszo stop him!” My voice was a hollow shriek in the stillness of the room. The two men stared at one another so entranced in their game that they took no notice of my presence. “Gunter, let him go, he’s done nothing wrong. He knows nothing of Deszo’s business.”

  “Perhaps you do.”

  I was shocked. Because of course I didn’t. I’d known Deszo for over thirty years, thought I knew him well, and even tonight I’d imagined that Gunter was talking about a stranger as he described the meetings that Deszo was allegedly a party to. “I’m only trying to save my family.”

  “Natalie, leave the room,” Deszo’s voice was low and controlled.
“Now. Go home.”

  “Let me take Jozef.”

  Gunter pressed the blade of the knife against Jozef’s neck. I ran to his side and tried to grab his hand. He shoved me away and in the movement of his hand, a sliver of blood ran down Jozef’s neck.

  “Stop, please,” I pleaded. “Deszo, tell him what he wants to know.”

  “Gunter, lay down the knife and let’s talk.”

  Gunter stared at Deszo and shook his head. “We now have three bodies to trade on.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to act as my emissary.”

  Deszo stood and moved toward Gunter. “Remove the knife from his neck and we’ll talk.”

  Gunter pressed the knife tighter against Jozef’s neck; the blood began to flow more freely. “Time is running out.”

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  DESZO NODDED AND Gunter released Jozef from his grasp. I knelt at Jozef’s side as he slid from the chair and onto the floor. I cradled him in my arms and used Deszo’s handkerchief to stop the flow of blood. Gunter’s dramatic act had only produced a surface wound but the blood soon soaked through the cloth, staining my fingers.

  “There will be a meeting in two days,” Deszo said. “I will go to the meeting and then tell you what the arrangements are afterwards. You must release Anna and Mila before that or there will be no deal.”

  Gunter chuckled and wiped his hands with a napkin from the table. “Fair enough. You realize that if you don’t deliver your end of the bargain, the consequences will be worse for everyone next time.”

  He tossed the napkin on the floor and walked toward the door. “You will find the girls at the ghetto, tomorrow morning. Shall we say, eight?”

  We were left alone in the room. Deszo came to my side and helped me to lift Jozef. We carried him between us out of the room and through the now empty living room.

  On the sidewalk downstairs, the Nazi soldier who’d served our dinner stood holding open the back door of a car. “I will take you home,” he came forward, took Jozef from us, put him into the back seat, and then walked around to the driver’s side. We climbed in next to Jozef and I held him as we sped through the streets to my apartment.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  I PUT JOZEF into Mila’s bed and did my best to dress his wounds. Jozef grimaced in pain as I touched a cold rag to his face. I began to unbutton his shirt and as I tried to slip the shirt over his shoulder, he cried out in pain. “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  I returned with a pair of scissors.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  “I have to cut your clothes off of you.”

  “No!”

  “I’ll give you some of my husband’s clothes to wear, tomorrow.” I moved his arm to his side and slowly cut the shirt away from his body. “In the mean time, this is the only way I can properly clean your wounds.”

  Once his upper body was exposed, I understood why he had cried out in pain. His shoulder was dislocated and his other arm appeared to be fractured at the wrist. In addition, his midsection was a mottled mass of blue green bruises. As I unbuckled his belt and began to cut away his pants, Jozef turned his head in embarrassment. “You’re not the first man I’ve seen,” I said tenderly. I tried to maintain lightness in my voice, but it was difficult not to gag at the sight before me. Jozef’s legs were dotted with open sores where cigarettes had burned holes through his skin. I wiped the beads of nervous sweat from my forehead and looked into his eyes. “My God, Jozef, how long did they torture you?”

  He turned his head toward the wall and didn’t answer.

  “Jozef, did you hear them mention Mila and Anna while you were there? Do you know if they are still alive?”

  He nodded his head. “I think they are. At least, Mila. They said she was sent to the ghetto. I heard someone say Anna’s name, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying, the others were laughing.”

  I cringed; Anna and Mila had been picked up at different times. Anna first and then Mila the following morning. It would have taken them some time to link them. Had something Anna said caused them to watch the apartment and then follow Mila and Mrs. Szep when they left? But why didn’t they pick them up immediately, why let them get to the house safely? And they’d only taken Mila, Mrs. Szep and her friend had been left unharmed.

  I could only hope that Anna had been taken to the ghetto and had managed to find Mila. But when she left Mila was safely at home. Perhaps she still didn’t know that Mila had been picked up. Or had Gunter told her? I shivered and tried to apply ointment as gently as possible. Jozef had suffered so much, it would take him weeks to heal, but the psychological abuse he’d suffered would be with him much longer. “Mila would be proud of the way you’ve tried to help her. Thank you for your help, Jozef.”

  He shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way.”

  “No one did,” I said.

  “There is a transport train leaving for the camps tomorrow,” he whispered. He took my hand, “Get to the ghetto earlier or you will miss them.”

  “But Deszo made a deal with Gunter.”

  He coughed and a sliver of blood seeped from the edge of his mouth. “He wants to dangle the bait in front of Deszo so that he’ll go to the meeting. But he doesn’t care whether they are safe or not.”

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  DESZO AND I sat side by side on the couch in my study. We’d pulled the shades on the window to conceal the weak light that emanated from two candle stubs that burned on the table in front of us. Deszo took my hand and pulled me to his side. I slipped easily under his arm and leaned my head against his shoulder. My arm rested against his chest and we held each other with eyes closed and our breathing slowing until we exhaled and inhaled in tandem.

  “Natalie, we will get through tomorrow together.” Deszo turned in my embrace to face me. “I will not allow anything to happen to you.”

  I looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  Deszo whispered, “I love you with all my heart. You know I always have.”

  “Please don’t say that.” I looked down at my hands and remembered my dream of Max. There was no going back for me. I couldn’t pretend to feel something I didn’t.

  “Natalie, I know you still think of Max. I know you’ll never love me that way. But in time…”

  “Deszo, no,” I sighed.

  “After tomorrow, things will be better,” he said, ignoring my words. “The war will be over soon. I’ll make sure Anna is taken care of, and I’ll do whatever you want about Mila. I’ll help you find her mother, or I’ll help you to raise her as my own.”

  “Deszo, stop!” I cried. “We’ve known each other since we were children. You were Max’s best friend. I love you as a friend, nothing more. And as to Anna and Mila…” A sob choked me. “I don’t even know if Anna is still alive. Jozef says we have to get to the ghetto early tomorrow.”

  “Gunter wouldn’t allow anything to happen to them.”

  I stopped and put my hand to my mouth and then continued. “Deszo, which side do you work for?”

  “Be careful what you ask, Natalie,” he said, taking his hand out of mine.

  “Are you already working with the Germans? Is that why Gunter singled you out?”

  “Natalie, I can’t discuss my role,” he said. “There is too much at stake.”

  “For whom? For Anna, for Mila?”

  “I am working for the good of our country.”

  “And the good of your family’s business? Have the German’s promised to leave your father’s business unscathed if you provide them with information?”

  Suddenly I was dizzy and sick to my stomach. “Did you have anything to do with Anna’s capture? Did you know where they have taken her?”

  “I don’t know where Anna is,” Deszo said.

  My heart turned cold. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Clearly, I needed Deszo in order to get Mila and Anna back. But beyond that, I didn’t
believe I could trust him. I got up and moved to a chair across the room.

  Deszo sighed, exasperated, “Natalie, have you considered Anna’s possible part in Mila’s capture?”

  “When she left the apartment the plan to send Mila away hadn’t been created.”

  “But she knew that Mila was being hidden.”

  “Why would she do something to harm Mila? She’s her aunt.”

  “Yes, but you’re the one who has the real connection to Mila. And Anna was furious with you because in her delusional mind we were starting an affair.”

  “Anna is sick, not sadistic,” I swore, my knuckles were white underneath my grip on the arms of the chair. “And you knew where Mila was being taken. Anna didn’t.”

  “Natalie, I have no motivation to harm Mila. Anna does.”

  Chapter Eighty-Six

  I LOOKED OVER at the clock on the bookshelf. We’d fallen asleep on opposite sides of the room. I got up and shook Deszo’s arm gently and whispered, “It’s time.”

  At the front door, we put on our coats and made our way down the stair and into the still dark pre-dawn streets.

  We hurried along side streets until we reached the first building on the street designated as the Jewish ghetto. We stopped in our tracks at the sight of the empty buildings.

  “It’s too late!” I moaned. “They’ve taken them to the train station.”

  We raced to the train station. Deszo held my hand and I prayed that we wouldn’t be too late.

  The station was a horror. Soldiers lined the platform herding the Jews into cattle cars. Their luggage was left in heaps, promised to be on the next train, though I doubt anyone believed this lie anymore.

  I wanted to know why no one turned and resisted. The number of captives far out numbered their guards. Yes, the Nazis carried weapons and the Jews were defenseless, but that could not be the only explanation. Was it simply human nature to succumb when hope was lost?

  Deszo pushed a path ahead of us. I screamed for Anna and Mila. The soldiers, laughs, and threats that we could easily join the passengers on the train if we insisted, met my pleas for help.