The Devil's Madonna

by Sharon Potts

  For a long moment, Gabriel didn’t move.

  His son. He’d won his son back.

  Then abruptly, Gabriel flung off Javier’s hand. He picked up the portfolio, gathered the oil paintings clumsily under his arm, and started to walk away.

  “We’ve been wrongly accused, Gabriel, you along with your forebears,” Javier called after him. “But that’s changing now. You hear me?” he shouted. “With or without your help, the hatred ends now!”

  63

  Kali blocked out the rabbi’s words and took in the endless expanse of greenish brown grass, indented by headstones that were laid flat, rather than upright as Kali was accustomed to seeing. A battlefield with fallen soldiers, vases of wilting flowers, and empty marble benches. Before her, in the shadow of an underdeveloped oak tree, was the gaping rectangular hole into which her grandmother’s coffin had been lowered.

  Although her non-Jewish grandfather had been cremated ten years before, Kali felt that such a burial would be inappropriate for Lillian and had chosen a Jewish cemetery. Jews did not believe in cremation as a suitable means of getting to the afterlife.

  The rabbi was reciting a prayer Kali had learned in her conversion class just a year before. Her lips moved in rote, but nothing penetrated her core of ice.

  Kali hadn’t come to terms with the implications of what her grandmother had set into motion over seventy years ago, but the former Ilse Strauss was still her grandmother, still her blood. Perhaps here, surrounded by other Jews and the prayers of their families and friends, her grandmother would finally be at peace.

  At peace. Something Kali might never know again. A stab of fear shot through her abdomen as Kali’s mind touched the danger she was in. Someone had broken into her grandmother’s house, killed her, stolen the painting, and was very likely waiting for the right opportunity to strike Kali down.

  But how could Kali protect herself? Whom could she tell who would understand? The police would probably think she was a crackpot if she started talking about her relationship to Hitler. But worse, what if it got out to the media? Instead of being protected, Kali would be exposed to hatemongers. No—not the police.

  Kali glanced around at the crowd, all in black, wearing hats, yarmulkes, or other head coverings. Camilla was here, and a few colleagues from her publisher, but mainly friends and business associates of Seth and his parents. Standing with several lawyers from Seth’s firm was Jonathan, his red hair sticking out around his black yarmulke. He kept his eyes on the rabbi, not on Seth.

  Seth was beside Kali, chanting along with the rabbi, head bowed. He was meticulously dressed in a black suit and shiny wingtips. But although she recognized the closely cropped dark hair and squiggly eyebrows, he looked like a copy of an original painting. No longer her Seth, but an imperfect replica.

  Mitzi and Al stood on Kali’s other side. Mitzi’s arm was around Kali, her fingers pressing reassuringly into Kali’s hand. Both Mitzi and Al had been wonderfully supportive, especially after learning about Lillian’s Jewish heritage. How could Kali shatter them with the revelation that their grandchild was descended from Hitler?

  She looked over and caught Neil’s eye. He gave her a little nod. He was wearing a brown tweed sports jacket and tie. He probably hadn’t expected to need a dark suit while packing up his mother’s house. There had been an awkwardness between them since Lillian’s body had been found two days earlier and the police had questioned both of them extensively.

  Kali realized the rabbi was speaking to her, pointing to a small bag of dirt and a shovel. She took the shovel and scattered the dirt down into the yawning hole, over the coffin.

  The ceremony was over. People surrounded her like maggots clustering on rotting meat. “So sorry for your loss,” they said. Kali nodded. She felt nothing. She noticed Javier Guzman standing at the periphery of the group wearing sunglasses and a dark hat.

  “Ready to go, angel?” Mitzi asked. “You should ride with Seth. I’m going to see if anyone needs directions to your grandmother’s house.” She brushed something off the shoulder of Kali’s black dress and leaned in closer. “I can still call the caterer and have them deliver the food to our apartment. It’s closer and not so—” She glanced around the cemetery as though looking for the right word.

  Kali relieved her. “I think my grandmother would have preferred her house.”

  “Okay, then. Whatever you say.” Mitzi gave Kali a reassuring pat. “I’ll go find Al and start moving the troops out.” She disappeared into the crowd, the black lace doily on the back of her head fluttering like an injured sparrow’s wings in her auburn moppet curls.

  Kali touched the lace doily in her own braided hair. She remembered the white doily that had so upset her grandmother. Where had it come from?

  “How are you holding up?” asked a baritone voice.

  “I’m okay, Dr. Guzman. I appreciate your coming.”

  “Of course, my dear. I read about your grandmother’s passing in the obituaries. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Seth was heading toward them. Dr. Guzman touched his hat. “Again, my condolences, Kali.” He turned and walked briskly toward the parking lot.

  “Who was that?” Seth asked.

  “A geriatric specialist. He was advising me on how to cope with Lillian’s depression.”

  Seth nodded, though he didn’t seem to have heard Kali’s response. “My mom said I should drive with you. Do you mind?”

  “It’s not really necessary.”

  “I’d like to, Kali.”

  “Okay, then.”

  They walked side by side, close, but not quite touching. For an instant, she saw images of a movie rewinding. Back to the moment they stood outside Seth’s parents’ apartment joking about Bucephala.

  Then she saw Seth’s head turn toward a group at the edge of the parking lot. An elfin young man with red hair nodded at him, and the vision evaporated.

  Kali stood behind the banister in the foyer, hoping to blend into the shadows so no one would notice her. She was able to see black shapes darting through hallways, in and out of rooms. Cockroaches converging around the dining room table, covering white discs with assorted shapes and colors.

  She was relieved that Mitzi and Al had taken charge of things. Mitzi seemed to be everywhere, encircling and guiding small groups of people like an Australian shepherd herding black sheep, while Al held court in the formal living room with a group of men and women who sat on sofas and chairs that had rarely been used. She could hear his voice booming above the others, a deep chuckle in response to one of his own witticisms. How ironic that now that her grandmother was dead, the house seemed to come alive.

  “A heart attack,” a woman separated from Kali by a partial wall was saying in a low voice. “That’s what the autopsy found.”

  Kali tuned in.

  “I heard she’d become completely demented,” another woman said.

  “That’s right. Mitzi told me that apparently the old woman went downstairs to feed the cats and make sure the doors were locked. Then she climbed back upstairs and had a heart attack from the exertion. That’s when she fell back down and broke her neck.”

  “Where was the granddaughter in all this?” the other woman asked.

  “Where were you ladies?” Neil asked in a clear voice.

  Kali saw two slim, well-dressed women scuttle past her.

  Neil appeared from around the wall carrying a mug. He’d taken off his sport jacket and his white shirt was slightly wrinkled, tie askew. “Hot tea.” He handed Kali the mug. “And you should probably eat something.”

  The mug warmed Kali’s fingers. “Thank you.”

  “I hate gossipers,” he said.

  “They’re just curious.”

  “Yeah, well.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose.

  “I miss you,” she said.

  He ran his finger over the worn banister handrail, not meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry I stayed away. It just seemed like the pr
udent thing with the cops asking so many questions. I didn’t want to give them an opportunity to dream up a scenario that we were in cahoots orchestrating your grandmother’s death.”

  “Well, the medical examiner’s satisfied that her fall was triggered by cardiac arrest.”

  Neil tilted his head as though he picked up something in her voice. “Aren’t you?”

  “Sure.” She wondered if Neil had noticed the locksmith coming by yesterday to change the locks, then later the alarm company’s truck.

  Neil leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Why did you leave your grandmother alone that night? You still haven’t told me.”

  “We had an argument.”

  “About?”

  “Now you sound like the police.”

  “Fine. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  Kali watched the cockroaches swarming into the dining room. She desperately wanted to unburden herself. To have someone to lean on, but could she trust him?

  “It was about my mother,” she said finally. “Lillian told me some things about the day my mom died and I realized my mom had committed suicide. I was very upset.”

  Neil nodded. “You’ve always been in denial about what really happened that day, even with the news reports about how fast her car was going. I guess it’s good you’ve accepted the truth, but I’m sorry it hit you so hard.”

  Several people were leaving. They came over to say goodbye and express their condolences.

  “We’ll talk later,” Neil whispered in her ear. “Remember. You’re not alone.”

  He slipped away. When she looked among the shadowy cockroaches a minute later, there was no sign of him.

  Not alone. And Kali felt a little crack in the ice. Not quite like it was melting, but at least a fissure.

  64

  Kali watched Mitzi usher out the last of the guests, then lock the door. Her mother-in-law kicked off her heels and extended her arms toward Kali. “Come here, angel.”

  Kali obliged, resting her face against Mitzi’s shoulder. Fragrant-smelling curls brushed Kali’s cheek.

  Al stood in the archway to the living room. He had taken off his tie and jacket and opened the top buttons of his shirt. His white hair was ruffled, as though he’d walked through a windstorm. “Why don’t you girls come in here and put your feet up? I can make you some tea, or would you prefer a glass of wine, Mitzi?”

  “Wine would be great,” Mitzi said, leading Kali by the hand into the living room. Although it was afternoon, the drapes were drawn and the room dimly lit.

  “Just water for me, thank you,” Kali said.

  Mitzi gave Kali a gentle push toward the goose feather sofa and Kali sank into the pillows. Mitzi sat down on the opposite end. She patted the cushion. “Come on. Shoes off, feet up. Before the doctor gets back and scolds you.”

  Kali slid off her shoes and brought her legs up. She was startled when Mitzi took one of her feet and began to massage it.

  “Shhh. Relax. You’ve been under too much stress.”

  “Way too much stress,” Al said, coming into the room with a tray. He set it down on the coffee table, handed Mitzi a glass of wine and Kali a tumbler of an amber-colored liquid. “You’re not looking well, Kali, and I’m worried about you. Drink the apple juice and eat this.” He gave her a thick roast beef sandwich on a roll.

  Kali inadvertently gagged at the sight of the red meat.

  “What, are you crazy, Al?” Mitzi released Kali’s foot and took the sandwich out of Kali’s hand. “She’s a vegetarian. You know that.”

  “Geez, honey. I sure do. I’m sorry, Kali. You just look so pale, I’m worried that you’re becoming anemic. Tell you what. Try this.” He took a sandwich of hummus and flatbread off the platter and gave it to Kali. “Better? And I’ll get you some mixed bean salad from the dining room.”

  “Al,” Mitzi said, “stop hovering and sit down.”

  Al looked confused and ran his fingers through his mussed white hair.

  “Kali’s tired,” Mitzi said. “And you’re not going to fatten her up in one sitting.”

  “Ha.” He let out a booming chuckle and sat down in an armchair. “Look who thinks she’s the physician here.”

  Mitzi leaned back against the sofa and resumed rubbing Kali’s foot. “It’s because we both love you, Kali, you know that, don’t you?”

  Kali nodded and took a sip of juice. She could feel the ice sloughing off her shell.

  “We know all about Seth,” Mitzi said. “About what’s happened.”

  “He’s confused, that’s all,” Al said. “Probably the pressure of his job and a baby on the way. But it’s not real. Seth loves you. This is just his way of escaping, for now. But he’ll be back.”

  Mitzi’s fingers were kneading more strongly. “I don’t know if what Seth is going through is real or not. Maybe he is gay. Maybe he’s not comfortable in a relationship with a woman. I don’t think we should be giving Kali assurances about something we don’t know.” Mitzi held Kali’s foot tightly. “But I know how hurt you must be, Kali, and I feel for you, angel. We both do.”

  “Mitzi’s right,” Al said. “Some things are beyond our control. If this is what Seth wants. Or I should say, what he needs, then we can’t change that.”

  “But we have control over other things,” Mitzi said. “You’re like a daughter to us, Kali.”

  “That’s right. We love you like our own.”

  Kali sucked in her lip and bit down, trying to hold back the tears. “And you’ve been the family I never really had.”

  “Oh, Kali,” Mitzi said. “I’m so glad you said that. You must feel very lost and alone now that your grandmother’s gone.”

  Al leaned forward on the armchair. “We want you to know that no matter what happens, we’re here for you. It doesn’t matter if you and Seth get back together or not, you’ll always be our daughter and the baby, our grandchild.”

  Kali took in a deep breath. Tell them or not tell them?

  “What’s wrong?” Mitzi said. “I feel so much tension in your feet.”

  “I may be in trouble.” She could hear the tremor in her voice.

  Mitzi squeezed Kali’s instep. Al clenched his fists.

  “My grandmother told me some things about her past. Things that may have led to her death.”

  “What things?” Al asked.

  Tell it slowly, so they can absorb it. Don’t drop it like a bomb.

  “You already know my grandmother was born Jewish and hid her true identity to become an actress.”

  “Many Jews did that,” Al said. “It was a matter of self-preservation.”

  “Yes, well, my grandmother had a benefactor in Berlin. An older man who helped her get into films. Apparently he was very kind to her.”

  Mitzi stopped massaging. “She had a relationship with him?”

  “Yes.”

  There was silence. Kali became aware of the clock ticking on the mantel.

  “Did she have a child with him?” Mitzi asked.

  Kali nodded. “He didn’t know she was Jewish.”

  “And he was German?” Mitzi asked.

  “Yes.”

  Al and Mitzi looked at each other.

  “I assume this man is your real grandfather?” Al asked.

  “Yes.” Kali’s heart was pounding.

  Al leaned back in the armchair and steepled his fingers, tapping them together thoughtfully. “So you have some German blood. Not a big deal.”

  “Was he a Nazi?” Mitzi asked.

  Kali opened her mouth to answer, but Al broke in. “And what if he was? We used to believe Lillian might have been. That has nothing to do with Kali. We still love her.”

  “You said you may be in some kind of trouble,” Mitzi said, ignoring her husband. “That you think your grandmother’s death is somehow connected to her past. Why is that? Had your grandmother aided this man in some way?”

  “Not intentionally.” Kali felt the ice fall away in large chunks, but beneath were burning hot
embers and flashes of fire. A couple of tears slid down her cheeks.

  “So why would someone want to hurt her, or you?” Mitzi asked.

  “Because the man was very dangerous. And there are people who would want to destroy anything associated with him. Especially his offspring.”

  Al sat up very straight in his chair. “And who exactly was this man, this grandfather of yours?”

  Kali took a deep breath, but she couldn’t say it.

  “Who, Kali?” Mitzi said.

  “My grandmother believed it was—” The name stuck in her throat. She tried again, but this time the name came out too loud, like a shout from hell. “Adolf Hitler.”

  Mitzi put a hand over her heart and looked at Al. He hadn’t budged and his gaze seemed fixated on something on the rug. Then he inhaled deeply and caught Mitzi’s eye. “That’s certainly quite a story your grandmother told you. I understand why you’re so upset.”

  Mitzi was rolling one of her curls around her finger and jerking at it. Her charm bracelet made a soft, chinking sound.

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress,” Al said. “First with Seth, then your grandmother’s passing. It’s not unusual to blow things out of proportion. To start imagining.”

  “You think I’m making it up?”

  The sound of chinking charms continued along with the ticking of the mantel clock.

  “I think,” Al said, “your grandmother was mistaken or maybe you misunderstood.”

  “It’s the truth. My grandmother didn’t know he was Hitler. He was wearing a disguise. And she thought about having an abortion, but she’d just lost her parents. Don’t you see, she was a victim? And now someone has killed her!”

  Mitzi got up from the sofa. She wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress as though they were dirty. “Come on, Al. I can’t stay here.”

  “Relax. Let’s help Kali upstairs to bed. She probably hasn’t slept in days.”

  “Help her? Are you crazy?” Mitzi pulled Al by the arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Come now, Mitzi. You’re not taking her seriously, are you?”

  “Didn’t you hear what she said, damn it? She’s Hitler’s granddaughter.”