A Pious Killing

by Mick Hare

  He walked swiftly through the streets of the old town where Friedrich had first rescued him from his attackers, through Marienplatz, where women children and old men moved as if the sunshine was convincing them that there was no war and it had all been a bad dream, and out to the suburb where his home and surgery stood. If she were sticking to her own routines, Lily should be at the convent at this time.

  Robert walked up the garden path and let himself into the house. There was a stillness hanging there that immediately told him the house was empty. Without hurrying, he efficiently collected together clothes and other items he would need and put them into a small suitcase. From beneath a board in his wardrobe he lifted an old towel and unfolded it. Wrapped inside was a black Luger pistol. He flicked open the chamber and checked the ammunition. He was in two minds about taking it with him. The whole point of this operation was that his assumed identity and his occupation would camouflage him from detection by the authorities. To be found with a gun in his possession would certainly arouse suspicion. But he told himself that he was departing from the agreed plan anyway and the gun was probably a sensible additional departure. He then made himself another black coffee and ate some rye biscuits. Collecting his things he walked down the hallway to the front door looking around him as if for the last time and went out.

  During the afternoon he carried out another five procedures. Two of these he did for a colleague who was suffering from obvious exhaustion. Robert, who was tired himself thought, ‘you don’t know it but from now on you’re all going to have to fill in for me.’ When a break came at around 7:30pm he went to his locker and changed out of his surgeon’s coat for the last time and left the hospital.

  By 10:30 that same evening he was well into his cups alongside Friedrich. At a table in the middle of the bar the usual group of card players were talking intermittently between plays and bets. One of them was losing badly and betting food coupons to stay in the game. Friedrich had been telling Robert about an acquaintance of his who had been robbed by the Gestapo.

  “I didn’t know you still had any Jewish friends,” said Robert, genuinely surprised.

  Friedrich laughed. “You would think they would have to be Jewish wouldn’t you.” He paused to down another giant swallow of beer. “But Dieter’s misfortune was to share accommodation with a Jewish family. Half Jewish actually. The children are meischlings. Dieter’s neighbour Pedr, like myself, fell in love with a Jewess. He went one step further, however, and married the girl. Jews married to Aryans have not been relocated yet. Not all of them anyway. But, during a round up of Jews for transportation Pedr’s wife and children were snatched. The Gestapo had enlisted some SS personnel to assist in the round up. That was probably the reason why things went as far as they did. Usually the regular police assist the Gestapo and they are not as brutal. As well as snatching the Jews the round up includes the confiscation of property. Anything valuable or useful is snatched. Well the SS got carried away and as well as ransacking Pedr’s rooms they went through the other homes in the apartment block and confiscated anything they wanted there too. Dieter arrived home from his work of fire fighting to find his home had been burgled by the state.”

  “What did he do?” asked Robert.

  Friedrich turned to look at him as if to suggest his question was superfluous.

  “What can you do? If you speak out against the SS you are an enemy of the state. You might as well be a communist. Or a Jew even. You just have to thank them for robbing you and get on with life.”

  “What about Pedr’s wife and children?”

  “What about them?”

  “Do you know what happened to them?”

  Friedrich laughed ironically.

  “Pedr got them back. Apparently the SS had gone way over the top as usual and rounded up a large group of Jews with Aryan spouses. The spouses all got together and marched down to Gestapo headquarters and demonstrated. I think it was a toss up between them being mown down and getting their loved ones back. In the end the gates opened and their spouses and children were released.”

  “What do you make of that Friedrich?”

  “What do I make of it? I’ll tell you what I make of it. If I was Dieter I’d want to know why the Jews went free and I didn’t get my property back. If it wasn’t for the Jews living in the apartment block none of this would have happened in the first place. Like the Fuhrer says, everything is their fault in the end.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” said Robert. “I meant why do you think they let them go?”

  Wiping froth thoughtfully from his moustache Friedrich said, “That had me baffled for a while. But then I began to think there’s been a lot of talk on the radio about terrorist groups plotting to assassinate our beloved Fuhrer. There’s a lot of treachery afoot. I get the feeling that for the first time in my memory they were scared of angering the man in the street by gunning down a large crowd of Aryans.”

  Friedrich and Robert became suddenly aware that the room had gone very quiet and that others were listening in on their conversation. They said nothing for a while and Robert asked for more beers. Unfortunately the barman told him that the beer had all gone. There would be no more now for at least a week. They decided on two large schnapps.

  When the level of noise had returned to its normal pitch Robert returned to the topic and asked, “Do you believe in this talk of assassination plots? If so, who do you think is behind it?”

  Friedrich looked carefully around him before answering, “It’s either the Wermacht or the Jews. Probably both.”

  “ How can you say that?” asked Robert. “That sounds ridiculous.”

  “Oh, ridiculous is it,” retorted Friedrich looking somewhat hurt. “We all know the Jews are behind everything. That’s a given truth. Secondly, you’re not telling me that there aren’t some Jews left in the army. Some must have been overlooked. Why, I’ve heard a rumour that Himmler is a Jew. It’s common knowledge that the Fuhrer’s own doctor is a Jew. If this can be true, why not Jews in the Wermacht causing trouble?”

  Robert could not answer this line of reasoning and so he let the subject drop. After a suitable interlude and two more schnapps each, he embarked upon his tale of woe.

  “So, she has kicked me out. She accuses me of infidelity with a nurse and she won’t let me back in the house.”

  All through his sad tale Friedrich had roared with laughter. He had ordered more drinks in a celebratory manner and kept clapping Robert on the back.

  “You old dog,” was all he said. And he said it over and over again. ‘If he wants to believe that I have been bedding a young nurse, let him,’ thought Robert. Now for the punchline.

  “So I’ve got nowhere to stay,” concluded Robert.

  This was like the conclusion to a mighty joke and Friedrich thumped the bar in his mirth. Just as Robert had hoped and gambled, Friedrich drunkenly leaned on his shoulder and rasped conspiratorially in Robert’s ear, “You have now, my friend. You’re staying with me,”

  Robert smiled inwardly. He had known ever since Friedrich had rescued him in the alley way when they had first met that inside this old bigot’s chest there was a heart beating.

  Forty-two

  Friedrich lived in two attic rooms atop a four storey, terraced house in a narrow lane right in the downtown district. Why it had not been bombed Robert could not guess. A large number of its neighbours had. The main room that one entered immediately on going through the front door was a kitchen come lounge. There was a sofa bed with shiny wooden arms that would serve as Robert’s bed for the next few nights. It was too short for him and gave him a stiff neck. But it was the best available and he was not about to complain. The second room was Friedrich’s bedroom.

  After sleeping heavily, thanks to the drink, and awaking with a throat that told him he had snored, Robert followed Friedrich in having a stand up wash at the kitchen sink and then they breakfasted on some tinned mackerel that Friedrich had acquired along with some black bread. Friedrich even made cof
fee, but there was a large proportion of sawdust amongst the ground beans.

  After breakfast Friedrich headed off for work and Robert was left alone to plan his day. The first thing he needed to discover was how Lily would react to his disappearance.

  He was not sure he would be any good at creating an impromptu disguise but he went to Friedrich’s wardrobe and kitted himself out. Disguise was made more difficult by the fact that it was now July and the weather was good. Hence, people were wearing less clothes. The kind of disguise he had available to him required more clothing rather than less. In the end he was pleased with a workman’s flat cap, an old jacket and a pair of sunglasses that Friedrich must have bought as a very young man. He blackened his face slightly with some ash from the fire and stepped out into the summer Munich morning.

  The acrid smell of burning lingered in the air after the previous night’s raid but the residential centre of Munich had been spared. Some industrial targets had been hit and the wind blew the smoke across the town.

  Altering his gait with a slight limp he made his way back to his home. He sat on a bench at the entrance to a nearby park and pretended to be reading his newspaper as he watched the front of his home. Just after eight o’ clock Lily emerged. He saw immediately from her face that she had slept little and from her dress that she had paid less than her usual attention to her appearance.

  What would she do? If she thought the game was over she would surely drop her own pretence as Frau Hermann and take up her original identity. Maybe she had already communicated by telephone with the Gestapo and informed them of Robert’s disappearance. Perhaps she was on her way to Gestapo headquarters now.

  However, as he followed her he quickly realised that Gestapo headquarters was not her immediate destination. In fact he guessed she was heading for the convent, which suggested she was acting as if nothing had changed. Indeed she did go to the convent and from the amount of time she spent there he guessed she had carried out her normal duties with the children and sisters. After and hour and a half he saw Lily emerge. Robert followed her at a safe distance.

  After she had walked a few blocks he guessed correctly that she was heading for the hospital where he worked. When she reached there he waited across the street. Through the glass panel on the upper half of the heavy oak door he caught glimpses of her talking to a receptionist at the main desk. Lily waited whilst the receptionist made a telephone call. Eventually the receptionist replaced the telephone in its cradle and shook her head. Lily turned away with a look of disappointment and came out through the front doors.

  Hunching his shoulders, Robert looked across at her from the corner of his eye. At first she seemed undecided which way to go. Then she took a decisive step in the direction of their home.

  Robert followed her and watched her go in. A few minutes later Inge came out through the front door. Her coat was on and she was carrying her handbag. Robert guessed Lily had told Inge that there was no need for her to stay. After ten minutes or so Robert decided that Lily was not going to re-emerge quickly and he walked as casually as he could manage to the end of the block and went around to the rear of the property. After making sure that there was nobody watching he slipped into the garden and approached the window to the living area. Peeping in, he saw that Lily was already in a bath robe. From the sound of running water he knew that she was about to bathe.

  He made haste back to Friedrich’s apartment and changed into his own clothes. He then hurried across town to the convent. He approached the convent through the school. Entering the lobby he saw a door marked “Head teacher” on the right hand side. He was about to knock when he heard voices from inside. The voices were low and there was an earnest sound to them as they exchanged short, sharp sentences. Gradually Robert tuned in to the frequency and realised he was listening to a conversation between Herr Todt and the convent gardener. They were discussing what Lily had just told them on her morning visit. As he listened Robert tried to decipher what it was they had been told. Lily had obviously communicated some concern about Robert’s whereabouts for the men were speculating on what might have happened to him. He decided to join them.

  The men were struck dumb in open-mouthed shock as he silently entered. Robert calmly removed his hat and hung it on the hat stand behind the door. The two men watched him as he pulled a chair across to the desk where they were sitting and sat himself down beside the gardener. They both faced across the desk towards the head teacher.

  “I believe you have been concerned about me, gentlemen.”

  The two men could not speak. Fear was coursing through their veins. If Lily’s comments to them held any truth, this man could be a Gestapo agent.

  Reading their expressions, Robert went on, “I can guess what Lily might have said to you. However, I am here to tell you that anything she might have said about me probably applies to her.” He focused his attention on Herr Todt. “The fact that you are discussing me tells me that you are a sleeping member of our cell, Herr Todt. Tell me now. Does Lily know about you? It is obvious to me that you are the hidden link to the highly placed conspirators that the Gestapo are desperate to get their hands on.”

  It was the gardener who replied, “I don’t believe she does know about Herr Todt. It was me she came to speak to. She has also been into the convent and asked if you had been here. Mother Superior is concerned for you. You ought to go through and see her before you leave.”

  “I intend to.”

  “It is unfortunate that you came upon us here. If you are genuine you are now in greater danger than before. To know the identity of our link to the leadership is a dangerous thing.”

  Robert gazed in contemplation for several minutes at the two men facing him. “Gentlemen, our plot is unravelling. For my part, I am almost certain that Lily is a double agent. You two must suspect both Lily and I. You would be fools not to. My advice to you both is that you execute your escape plans immediately. I cannot vouch for Lily’s actions. She might at this very moment be informing her Gestapo contacts about our gardener. If they take you into custody it will not be long before they extract the identity of Herr Todt from you. At the same time you would be fools to trust me. I could be stalling you both right now in anticipation of the arrival of a gang of Storm troopers. In normal circumstances we would abort the plot now and all disappear into the night. However, I have an agenda of my own. I intend to go through with this mission at whatever cost. My mind is made up. Many better men than me have lost their lives in this war and I see no reason why I should not be prepared to risk mine.”

  The gardener and Herr Todt looked at each other but neither man spoke.

  “You are right to look alarmed, my friends. You could well be in the company of a mad man. Hang on to the thought that you are still here and not in Gestapo custody and that this mad man is encouraging you to get out of here as fast as you can. If I am caught I will do everything in my power to dispose of myself before they can torture any information out of me. But by then you should be long gone.”

  Robert leaned forward and pressed his fingers into the polished desktop.

  “Look, what I am saying to you is this. I don’t have a future; nor do I want one. This mission is my sole reason for existing. For you two there is a future, now and after this damned war is over.” He got up and collected his hat from the stand. “I am going through to see Mother now. I expect you two to be out of Munich within the next couple of hours.”

  Robert crossed the lobby and passed through double doors that led to the classrooms. He glanced through the glass panels that separated the classrooms from the corridor. Many of the desks were empty. He guessed most classes were about half full. He didn’t contemplate where the other half might be. Each classroom boasted a Nazi flag across the back wall and a portrait of the Fuhrer above the black board. Several classes were being taught by nuns of the order, but many more were being taught by lay teachers. These teachers all wore Nazi insignia armbands. Robert experienced a wave of depression, but it only
served to fuel his determination.