by Tony Klinger
Later that night Helmut and I sat at the kitchen table drinking tea. There was a polite knock at our door and we both feared for the worst. Helmut went to the door and opened it. He returned to the kitchen before our new guest, and looked shocked, stunned even. The Rat, who had tortured us both, so recently, followed Helmut into the room. Ratwerller smiled as he looked from one of us to the other.
“Good evening gentlemen, you remember me don’t you, Ratwerller is the name. Our paths seem to cross so often perhaps I should move in here with the two of you, yes?” Helmut looked at him, the hate quite obvious, whilst I did my best to restrain my natural inclination, which was to spit in the bastard’s face. “I remember you very well Herr Ratwerller,” said Helmut. I fought to control my fear, hating myself for this weakness, but terrified of falling into this terrible man’s control once again. Ratwerller pulled out a chair for himself and sat down. “I’m sure you won’t mind my joining you like this but I have some very sad news...” He looked at us, particularly me, waiting for a give away reaction. I don’t believe I gave anything away as the clock seemed to stop ticking, “What is it?” I asked.
He appeared not to notice my question, removing his hat and smoothing his jet black, greased hair. “I thought, you know, as we all know each other so well I should be the one to personally deliver this news.” He was savoring the moment; the bastard was enjoying the irony of his delivering the news to me. “Is it something I should also know about?” asked Helmut. Herr Ratwerller smiled toward Helmut, “Oh yes, I think you should know all about it, what do you think Herr Hessel, do you agree with me?”
I feigned indifference, but don’t think I pulled it off, this man Ratwerller made you react as if he was pulling your fingernails down a blackboard, he set my teeth on edge without effort. “I don’t know what he’s talking about Helmut, but no doubt Herr Ratwerller will tell us all about it in his own good time.”
“Oh come on, play the game Arnie, you know I know and I know that you both know, it’s a fun game, we can all play.” He toyed with both of us, as dangerous as a viper. Both Helmut and I kept quiet and still, aware of the Gestapo goons stationed just outside the door waiting for the slightest excuse to cause us yet more pain. “You always enjoyed talking in riddles.” I said to Ratwerller. “Go on.” He said, “I do so enjoy to reminisce, remember, for example, the name you and your little friends used to call me at school?” I didn’t answer, “You used to call me a rat, remember, you called me a rat. In fact so many people heard that name that in the end the new children in the school thought that my real name was rat!” he finished the sentence with crashing his fist down on the table. “I didn’t think that was very funny, did you think it was funny, Helmut, or you Arnie?”
We both shook our heads; it wasn’t worth picking a fight when you didn’t have any weapons available. “This is a familiar situation for you isn’t it Arnie...”
“What do you mean?” I asked as he stood up and walked around the room until he was standing behind me, I turned to face him, “I’m getting tired of your games Herr Ratwerller, so tell me this news or get out!”
Ratwerller smiled and stopped his pacing, “Games, words such as games, one realizes in my trade that the first casualty of the criminal fraternity is the sanctity of the German language. For example, murder suddenly becomes an accident or suicide.”
Helmut looked at me to see how I might react but I wasn’t stupid enough to give the game away at the first hint of trouble. Rat had seen the look and it was enough for his animal instincts to prompt one of his rictus smiles. “I think Arnie and I understand one another perfectly, don’t we?”
I let the silence build for a moment, “I think we always did.” I replied, “Arnie!” cautioned Helmut, “Perhaps you should wait for us in the other room Helmut.” He looked between me and my old adversary, “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked, imploring me with every fiber of my being to back away from this confrontation. Rat turned to Helmut, “Be a good lad, and run along.” Helmut reluctantly left the room to the protagonists,
“What do you want?” I asked him when the door had closed, “Who said I want anything, I could take anything I want anyhow.”
It was my turn to smile, “If you didn’t want something from me I would already be in your special little room being questioned with your special methods.” He nodded his head, “that is, I admit, always fun, but I do require something from you in return for my co-operation.”
“First,” I said, “I want to know what you know, exactly.” He sighed, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders alone, “Too much as ever, I know enough to put two and two together, and in this Germany this is more than sufficient. Or to put it another way, possibly there are reasons I could make it all disappear as if in a puff of magical smoke. Wouldn’t that be nice and you’d never need to know how.”
“So its blackmail, name your price.” I said, “Blackmail is such an emotive word, such unpleasant connotations, like patricide or murder, don’t you think?” he replied, “What sort of pleasure does it give you Ratwerller, playing with people like this?”
“I just like precision in all things, speed without accuracy is useless, much better with complex issues such as these, to be clear as crystal.” I looked into his ice blue eyes for some clue, but there was, as ever, nothing there to read, he gave none of the usual signals, he seemed devoid of any emotion. Not for the first time I wondered if he had ever felt anything other than hate. The tap in the old sink dripped as I waited for his next step, he noticed my glance at the sink and walked over to the faucet and turned the tap vigorously, the drip ceased. “What do you want?”
“I prefer a long term relationship.” He responded, “and you know I am not a greedy man, for my protection, my mentoring, I want you to have every incentive to succeed.”
“What does that mean, precisely?”
He paused thoughtfully, then smiled, “I truly believe in your talents, Arnie, you have a future in whatever society takes shape, selling those cards of yours, a wonderful business scheme, there’s every likelihood of success, an outstanding return on your friend Helmut’s investment. For my sponsorship I would be gratified to receive twenty five per cent of your gross return, without deductions of course.”
I didn’t need to think about it, I didn’t want any kind of relationship with this man, “How about instead of that I give you one thousand English pounds, now, wherever you like?”
Ratwerller laughed as if I had said something very amusing, “No, that simply doesn’t satisfy my long term plans. I want us to be partners.”
I tried something else; “We’ve established you’re a whore even more than you’re a Nazi, so all we’re really discussing is your price.”
Ratwerller giggled in that high pitched whine of his, it was an almost obscene and unnerving sound, “You cannot upset me with such obviously contrived abuse, after all those are my techniques, you cannot have forgotten the lessons I gave to you so recently. No, above all I am a businessman with pragmatic objectives, more than anything I have to receive profit for the future to be rosy. I shall have a little document drawn up and you shall all sign it, and it will donate twenty five per cent of your entire income into a charitable trust in Switzerland. It is this or those big nasty chaps with their nasty ways will be driving you and your friends back to a very uncertain future. Which is it?”
“Five per cent.” I answered, he smiled, “I’m not too unreasonable a man, but I am getting rather bored with this, I shall be reasonable and I am prepared to reduce it to twenty per cent, but that’s it, I will also have your books checked every week.”
“Fifteen.” I tried, he cleared his throat as if to call out to the guards outside, “All right, twenty it is, but I don’t want us to have any contact.”
The Rat stood before me and bowed incongruously, his smile a token of his happy agreement, “Fair enough, we have an a
rrangement, now, details, bloody details, do you wish to inform your fair mother of your father’s tragic accident or would you prefer me to fulfill this function?”
I tried to keep my voice from shaking, I wanted him to understand that I was no pushover, “I shall do what I have to do, I always have, and I always shall.”
Ratwerller walked toward the door where he paused and turned, “Why do I always get the impression that every one of our conversations ends with one of us always threatening the other. If you had the use of your arms you might be a formidable foe, but as things stand; well, I shall never turn my back like your daddy that would be a big error when standing next to an open window. Anyway, I look forward to a long and mutually rewarding relationship, goodbye.”
After he left Helmut returned. I told him about our new partner, and, as ever, he shrugged and was supportive, the whole world was still his plaything and I wished I shared his optimism.
He drove me to my family home and offered me his support, but I told him I would prefer to handle this alone. I found mother alone in the garden, allowing the last rays of the day’s sunlight to warm her. She looked very much as she had always looked, her age betrayed by some grey in her hair, and the slightly still way she carried herself so erect. It must have been a trick of the light, but just for a moment, before she heard my approach, she looked so young and carefree in that wonderful garden, like the young woman she had been. My approach to her momentarily blocked the sun from her, and she felt the shadow and turned. She smiled that wonderful smile of hers in greeting, and then there was concern.
“Arnie, how lovely to see you, I wasn’t expecting you, its such an honor for you to call these days. Come inside and I can make you a little something to eat.” Then she noticed my grim expression, “What is it, you’re not in trouble again are you; something is wrong tell me.”
I wasn’t used to bringing such news and didn’t know what to do except for what I had seen in films or read in books, “Come inside mother, you had better sit down.” She allowed herself to be ushered toward the house but before she got there she stopped and turned to face me again, “It’s your father isn’t it, he’s dead!” she said this with unintentional loudness, startling herself and me in equal measure. I wish, oh how I wish I could have reached out to enfold her in my arms at that moment, she simply slumped to the floor, as if all the air had suddenly been sucked from her body. “He’s dead, he’s dead, tell me he’s dead!”
I nodded my head, but I was unable to hold my mother’s disbelieving stare, I looked away, “He fell out of his office window.” She laughed at this news, “He fell out of the window, don’t be so ridiculous, he was careful in everything he did, such men don’t fall out of windows, he is not a clown making a pratfall, he is not some Charlie Chaplin, such men as your father do not fall from windows!” she was shouting now, she stood up and looked directly into my face, “You’re saying that he fell out of a window, he just fell from a window, this simply isn’t possible for him, he was not the type to fall from a window. This is ridiculous, he is the most careful man in the world.” She stopped talking and sensing something in my manner, she held my face between her hands, intensely staring into my eyes, seeking the truth, “You know something more Arnie, I can always tell when you’re holding something back, tell me what you know, you always do in the end, tell me what it is, you’ll feel better for sharing.”
“What does it matter, he’s gone, at last he’s gone. Now we still have each other, and we can get on with our lives, isn’t that better?”
“But he was my husband, I must mourn for my husband. You don’t simply close of a bit of yourself like you would turn off a light. I need to know what you’re hiding from me.” She let my face go, and we stood facing each other as she again stood. “Nothing mother. Honestly, nothing at all. I just can’t forget how wicked he was to you recently and to me for so many years. I could never forgive and forget, even if you could.”
Her voice tore into me, “Whatever he did, however he behaved, he was my husband and your father, and we are a family and in our own ways we all loved each other once, and you will respect his memory, for me, even if for no other reason, and I don’t care even if you have to put on an act you shall, do you understand me?”
The next thing I remember about that time was our standing inside the cemetery. Six uniformed officers of the Gestapo transported my father’s remains, housed in an ornate, heavy casket draped in a Nazi flag to his grave. There was a large crowd, perhaps four or five hundred, peppered by local dignitaries attending the burial service. I wondered if they were there to make sure he was dead, or whether any of them cared anything for him. I hope he would rot in hell.
Ratwerller was in attendance, he always had enjoyed a funeral, and so was Helmut, to lend me moral support. My mother stood proud and erect, refusing to show her emotions, as father would have required of her. The clergyman read the service as the coffin was lowered into the waiting earth. I looked from the coffin to my mother and Ratwerller leaned near to me as I did so. “I can help get the Jewess out of Germany, for the right price.” I tried to ignore him, but his proximity made that impossible, “That Jewess is my mother, and now is not the right time, this is her husband’s funeral. Don’t you ever let your greed rest?”
He shook his head, “Don’t your people say business is business. We all have to look to the future and there is no future for Jews in this country, no future at all. Anyway Arnie, aren’t you being a touch sanctimonious about all this given the circumstances. Wasn’t it you, the loving son, who put your dear daddy in the ground. We’re both whores and murderers, so name the deal. She’ll be safer, and I shall be richer. What’s wrong with you Arnie, not catching a conscience at this late stage? I do hope it’s not contagious!”
I looked at mother as she looked at the coffin’s final descent and the first shovels full of earth were emptied onto it and I knew what I had to do.
Chapter Fourteen
The Wolf’s Lair - Berchtesgarten, Germany
Summer 1939
The large airy room overlooked a breathtaking panorama of snow-capped mountains. There were about twenty guests standing in the room, chatting convivially, if somewhat stiff and formal. Among the group were Germany’s new order, the elite of the party and the state. I was standing next to an attractive blond woman, her name was Eva.
“Have you been here before Eva?” I asked, she nodded, sipped from her drink and replied, “Oh yes Herr Hessel, many times, but I have never seen you before. Of course like everyone else in Germany I have heard of you, seen your cards and of course purchased many. They’re charming and you must be very rich!” She giggled again, and held her hand in front of her mouth as if horrified by her words, but I decided to humour the obvious gold digger, after all she was very attractive, I bowed to her. “Thank you kind lady, let us say I have enough money that I no longer need to count it any more.” She giggled again, “Perhaps I could help?” she asked. “This is my first time here,” I said, “And perhaps my last, so tell me, what happens next, more drinks then we say our goodbyes without ever meeting the Fuhrer?”
She stopped playing the coquette at this moment and leant closer to me, then whispered, “You are about to find out.” I turned to follow her look as Adolf Hitler entered the room. He was smaller than I had imagined, and quite thin. His silly moustache and strange hair seemed right on his head. He was dressed in typical German country gentleman’s clothes. Smiling broadly and holding the hands of two very pretty little blond girls he walked through the throng who greeted him like a god. “Come along my girls, it is a nice party and you can play anywhere and with anyone, just keep back from the edge. Hello everybody, lovely day, yes?”
We all chorused back greetings to him. Almost everyone present shouts “Heil Hitler” and raises their arms in salute, everyone but me. I had the excuse that I couldn’t do so, but I was secretly glad at that moment, because
I would hate to salute Hitler. He had been properly briefed and realized that the only person not making the standard salutation must be me and he walked directly to me. I bowed so that he should know I wasn’t being offensive. “Hessel, we like your work.” He said by way of greeting, “Thank you sir,” was the only thing I could think of.
“You are an example others must follow. Made a success of yourself despite a disability. To be admired. We will put you to good use for your country.” I swallowed nervously as he stood looking up into my eyes, “thank you my Fuhrer.” He smiled, and his smile was very winning, for a moment I found myself forgetting all the horrors, the stories, the rumors and just saw a kindly man, “You mustn’t be worried. Germany would never persecute workers, only shirkers parasites and this will do with the utmost vigor and severity. Your working with us will finally put pay to the false propaganda that we deal unfairly with the handicapped and mentally deficient. If we did that I would have to eliminate half of my entire general staff and almost every one of my ministers!”
He laughed at his own joke and I had little alternative but to join in, as did others, who hadn’t even heard the joke, but were too nervous not to. “We shall speak later, in private. We have great plans for you, historic plans. After dinner then.”
He patted me on the shoulder and turned away, leaving me alone with Eva who was clearly captivated, “You certainly made a good impression with the Fuhrer.” I smiled at her, “You think so?” She snuggled up to me suggestively, “Is it true that one God takes away one sense he compensates with the other senses even more?” she asked, “We could find out later, together in my room.” I suggested, “Later it is.” She agreed.
Dinner was agreeable if overlong and too formal for my taste. I noticed that Hitler ate hardly anything but nibbled and sipped as if he was to be sociable. I wasn’t near enough to hear his discussion with the obese man to his left, but time passed quite swiftly. After we were finished I was ushered into Hitler’s private quarters and sat opposite him in his study. The fat man who was next to him at dinner was taking the leader’s blood pressure as we talked. “I should introduce you to my physician, his name is Doctor Theodor Morell,” the corpulent man barely looked in my direction as he ministered to Hitler. “He keeps me in tip top condition. Mind you if he didn’t then he would probably get a permanent ailment himself, like dead ha ha?”