by Mick Hare
Leaving the drill on the table Netzer moved towards Robert. He spread his hands in mock appeal.
“You know, Doctor, we men of the Gestapo take no pleasure in the vital work we have to do. We are honourable men. It is because we are honourable that we are prepared to undertake the dirty tasks. We are men. We know what must be done. We do not flinch from our painful duty. We do not burden lesser mortals with the details of our heroism. Save me from this duty and at the same time save yourself from an intolerable fate.”
As he delivered this speech Netzer drew closer and closer to Robert. Indulging himself once more in the power to humiliate, he put his face as close as possible to Robert’s. He wore an expression of mock friendship. Robert had seen sweeter smiles on the face of a serpent.
But this time Robert did not recoil from the nauseous odour of his breath, nor did he flinch from the malevolence of Netzer’s dominant stare. This was in fact, the moment he had hoped for.
In one swift, reptilian-like dart he lunged forward and sank his teeth into Netzer’s face. He had intended to clamp his teeth onto the prominent nose but Netzer’s reaction had been quick enough to evade that attempt. However, Robert got lucky and grabbed a secure purchase on Netzer’s top lip. He focused all his strength into that one physical effort and closed his jaws like a vice. In that one split second of activity the tables were suddenly turned.
In anticipating this moment Robert had wondered if the touch of Netzer’s lips to his own would be repellent. Here was the moment of truth, and the answer was no. This was as sweet a kiss as he had ever known. Netzer’s actions now worked to his own disadvantage. His attempt to scream came out as a child’s startled yelp and his instinct to pull back resulted in his top lip tearing right off and pulling a large chunk of his right cheek with it.
Robert tasted the warm blood and saliva that exploded from Netzer’s face and it stimulated him to further action. Disoriented by the immeasurable pain and reacting without thought, Netzer stumbled forward, his face bumping Robert’s, instinctively trying to prevent further tearing of his face. With animal ferocity Robert pushed with his feet, rising with the chair attached to his imprisoned arms, and lunged again at Netzer’s face. With the force of the collision between them Netzer toppled over backwards with Robert falling on top of him, his teeth already sinking deep into the wound. With the added assistance of his body weight Robert gouged his teeth into Netzer’s eye socket and bit ferociously on his eyeball. He felt the liquid jelly spurt into his mouth and he shook the eye out with a vicious tear.
Completely engulfed by an animalistic rage he raised his head and from his bloody mouth he uttered a barbaric roar. As he roared and spat out the cartilage, mucus and blood he was distantly aware of the sound of the cell door opening. He triumphantly turned to face his death, rags of Netzer’s face still dangling from his mouth. He waited for the hot lead to enter his brain or his heart. But as he slowly ceased his victory roar and the blood and liquid cleared from his eyes he found himself looking at Lily and Friedrich.
Friedrich stepped swiftly past Lily into the cell taking a bayonet from the one of the hooks on the wall as he went. He leaned over Netzer and inserted the bayonet into his throat. The honourable man from the Gestapo gurgled like a fountain for a few seconds and then fell silent. Friedrich then helped Lily to get Robert upright before untying him. As his bonds were being released Lily hissed to Friedrich, “Someone’s coming. Do something!”
The echo of boot heels bounced along the corridor. Friedrich stepped out of the cell closing the door behind him. Coming towards him strode two Gestapo agents in their field-grey, office uniforms.
“What’s going on?” the older of the two asked. He noticed blood on Friedrich’s sleeve. “Is everything all right?”
Friedrich fingered his collar and released a deep sigh.
“I think so. Herr Gruppenfuhrer Netzer is busy interrogating a suspect. You may have heard the suspect’s responses.”
The two men stared at him for an instant and then sniggered nervously.
“We should have guessed. Good old Netzer – protecting the state and the leader with his usual enthusiasm.”
The younger man touched his companion’s elbow.
“Come on; let’s get out of here before he asks us to join him.”
They wished Friedrich good luck and hurried back along the corridor out of sight.
Inside the cell Lily was dressing Robert’s facial wounds. The cuts made by Netzer’s chisel were turning septic and she bathed them with an antiseptic fluid. The violent stinging the fluid induced made no impression upon Robert’s consciousness. Turning away from Robert to search her bag for the M B 760 anti-infection serum she did not see Robert rise from his chair and step towards her. She turned to find his hands slipping around her throat and beginning to tighten.
“What ar…” she gasped before Robert’s hands squeezed the breath out of her.
“You treacherous bitch,” he spluttered. “You might have destroyed our mission but you will not live to enjoy your success.”
As he began to apply the necessary pressure to break her neck he felt a sharp, cold blade push into the side of his throat.
“I do not know much about your business Robert my friend,” he heard Friedrich say, “But, for now, you will let her go and we will all leave this house of death together. When we are clear you can do what you want. But I have to tell you – without her we would not be here and you would undoubtedly be dead.”
Robert released his grip and slumped back into his chair. Lily bent over and retched. She snatched at the air for oxygen and eventually achieved enough equilibrium to continue. She rolled up one of Robert’s sleeves and injected him with the M B 760. She then began to undress him.
“Undress Netzer!” she ordered Friedrich.
Friedrich obeyed without hesitation and in a few moments Robert and Netzer were dressed as each other. Lily gave her instructions, “I know a rear exit that Netzer habitually uses to remove the remains of suspects who do not survive his interrogations. You are Netzer!” she instructed Robert. “Netzer is you.”
The three of them looked at the bloody skeletal frame exposed where his face had been.
“No one will recognise that,” she said coldly. “If anyone asks we reply with Netzer’s favourite rejoinder in these circumstances –‘we are taking out the garbage’.”
Robert was too weak to assist in carrying Netzer’s body. He went ahead having been pointed in the right direction by Lily. Lily and Friedrich carried Netzer between them. They passed locked cell doors and turned right at a T-junction. The sound of Netzer’s boots dragging on the stone floor echoed along the tiled walls. At the end of the corridor they were now moving along, was the door to the outside world. It was about thirty yards distant when it opened and in stepped two Getsapo agents returning from operations. Lily instinctively knew this as they were not in uniform. Gestapo agents in the field did not wear uniform when operating within the fatherland.
They approached Robert first but they could see beyond to Lily and Friedrich and the corpse they were carrying.
“Heil Hitler, Gruppenfuhrer. More garbage to be disposed of I see.”
The two men chuckled. Not knowing what else to do Robert kept his face low beneath the brim of his hat and barged between them cursing loudly. The men were shocked. Before they could react, however, they found themselves looking into the remains of what had once been a face. The horror of the sight silenced any protest they might have been contemplating. Netzer had truly excelled himself this time.
Beyond the door they found themselves in an outside compound. Lily and Friedrich laid Netzer on the ground at the feet of Robert who propped himself up against the wall. They both went to the far end of the compound. They tried three of the cars parked there before finding one with the keys in. In moments Lily was driving them away from SS Gestapo headquarters and back to the surgery. Robert and Netzer sat side by side in the rear. Sitting in the everyday environment of an a
utomobile and released from the insanity of Netzer’s domain Robert was subject to deep self revulsion. In the moments before death, as he had fully anticipated in that cell, his behaviour had had a valid motivation. Now he was disintegrating psychologically at the thought of his actions.
Forty-seven
The rest of that Sunday and all the next day saw the newly formed gang of three playing cat and mouse. In reality they played mouse, but there was little evidence of cat. The freedom to pursue his own investigations in his own sadistic way had made Netzer the dangerous animal he had been. But, conversely, now that he was dead (or temporarily missing as was thought by his colleagues) there was no one in a hurry to follow up his unfinished work. Lily was fairly sure that she was the only other individual fully briefed on the papal assassination plan and on the monitoring of the resistance support group acting as enablers for Robert. Netzer had in fact successfully destroyed the resistance group, but he had failed on two major counts; one, the leadership conspiracy had not been exposed and two, the assassination plan was still on track – just.
It had been left to Friedrich to dispose of Netzer’s body. He took no pleasure in his task. Under cover of night he took the corpse into the garden and by a corner of the wall had placed it in a shallow grave. In order to make identification of the corpse as difficult as possible he had been obliged to strip the corpse of clothes and burn them. He had then carried out the morbid task of pouring acid onto crucial parts of the body to obliterate distinguishing characteristics. The face; the SS tattoo; the hands; and various spots where individual marks such as moles resided.
An hour after he had finished this necessary endeavour a loud knocking came at the front door. The three of them were sitting in the living room having finished a meal of liverwurst, cabbage soup and ersatz bread. They had no clean water to drink so they were making do with unsweetened ersatz coffee. The knocking startled all three. Lily got up from her seat and went to answer the door.
Standing in the gloom was a man she knew as Arne Lahm. Herr Lahm was the block warden. In the neighbourhood he was known as the rat. This was because he was always sniffing around and he belonged with the garbage. As a member of the party he received a nominal payment to monitor the behaviour of all occupants of the six blocks of houses that sat astride this part of Heydrichstrasse. He had been the one who suggested the patriotic re-naming of their road from the more acceptable Haselnubstrasse. Despite the name of Heydrich now attached to the strasse, the hazelnut trees still adorned its pavements. Herr Lahm stood their in his crombie and trilby with a swastika armband decorating his right sleeve. He offered a crooked smile to her, which exposed two missing lower teeth.
“Good evening Herr Lahm. How good of you to call. Can I help you?”
Being aware of the man’s zealotry Lily applied all the formal politeness she could muster.
“Neighbours have reported unusual activity in your garden area,” he said. It was neither a question nor an accusation, but it left Lily momentarily dumbstruck. For want of something else to say Lily heard herself inviting Herr Lahm inside. She led him into the waiting area for the surgery and asked him to give her more details about the so-called unusual activity. Herr Lahm informed her of the observed digging in the garden by one of their more attentive neighbours.
“I will get my husband for you,” she said and left the room.
Moments later Robert entered the waiting room and approached Herr Lahm with his hand out. He shook hands with him enthusiastically and invited him through to their living quarters.
“Have a seat Her Lahm and let me pour you a drink. I have some schnapps.”
“You are very kind Herr Doctor. A small measure would be most welcome.”
As he handed the glass of schnapps to Herr Lahm Robert remarked, “You have noticed my injuries, Herr Lahm. But you are too polite to comment.”
“Please forgive me Herr Doctor. I did not mean to appear rude.”
“I am not offended Herr Lahm. Let me explain. During the last air raid I was called out to attend an emergency. It was at an address not far from Marienplatz but it meant walking through the narrow lanes of the asocial housing that festers to the east of that district. Having been the victim of an attack there not so long ago I decided to take my dog with me. Unfortunately, as we were progressing past the primary school building it was hit by a bomb. I took some of the debris in my face. Hence the disagreeable sight you now see before you. Sadly, Kaiser, my dog, had run on ahead and caught the full blast of the explosion. He was killed. I am assuming that the unusual activity you have mentioned to my wife was when I buried him in the garden.”
“A dog? I didn’t know you had a dog,”
“But of course! I have had him since I moved in here. You do surprise me. You have such an encyclopaedic knowledge of this area; surely you knew I had a dog.”
Not happy to expose a lack of knowledge, the block warden was non-plussed. Robert decided to gamble.
“Would you like to come through and inspect his grave, Herr Lahm?”
Herr Lahm hesitated long enough for Robert to contemplate how he would kill him if he said yes.
“No, Herr doctor, that will not be necessary. I will finish my schnapps and leave you in peace.”
He tipped his glass and drained it. He placed it on the occasional table that stood by the door and turning, raised his arm in salute.
“Heil Hitler!” he exclaimed.
“Heil Hitler!” returned Robert with all the enthusiasm he could muster. He showed Herr Lahm out and urged him to get on home swiftly and safely.
Herr Lahm, Block Warden, did return home immediately. But he spent a restless, sleepless night and arose the next morning determined to satisfy his curiosity. He made a number of calls to houses close to the home of Herr and Frau Doctor. He never tired of the thrill he experienced when he observed the combination of fear and dismay on the faces of those who answered to his knock. Expressions turned to relief and then puzzlement when it became apparent that his enquiries were about the doctor and his wife and not about themselves. Puzzlement because, no, no one had ever seen a dog. If the doctor and his wife possessed a dog it had never been seen.
So, it was as Herr Lahm had suspected. The dog burial story was a lie. What lay behind this seemingly meaningless subterfuge?
Lily’s main concern was to administer medical care to Robert. Apart from his physical injuries, which were substantial, he was suffering from shock. Lily and Friedrich assumed the shock was caused by Netzer’s treatment of him. Friedrich himself was still working hard to obliterate his own memory of his time in Netzer’s hands. In fact, Robert was struggling to recover from the shock of his own behaviour. In that cell, for a few brief minutes, he had become a cannibalistic monster. When his back was completely against the wall he had metamorphosed into a fiend. The seismic, psychological shock lay in the fact that during the metamorphosis, he had enjoyed himself. He had never experienced such a heightened form of blood lust – had not known it was humanly achievable. Now he shook from the inner core of his being. There had to be a route back from the monster he had briefly become and passing through a dark tunnel of traumatic shock was probably the only way.
Lily believed the strength of Robert’s subconscious would sort through the shock, although she kept him mildly sedated throughout Sunday and all of Monday. She worried most of all about the fractures and open wounds in and on his face. If left untreated infection could set in and prove fatal.
On closer inspection she discovered that the fractures to his cheekbones and sinus cavities were in fact clean. Netzer’s sadistic use of a sculptor’s chisel had proved beneficial. The instrument was of such high quality that the bones split in neat, straight lines. She did not need to perform any painful manipulation procedures to set them in place. They would knit and heal naturally if kept free from infection.