“ Half?” Herr Hoffgeitz’s shock confirmed the immense size of Klaus von Koenig’s account. Elie’s assessment, based on the quantities in the ledger, pinned it at several hundred million U.S. dollars-perhaps more if the banker had taken his time to dispose of the diamonds in small portions during high-market periods over the years while investing the proceeds wisely.
“My credentials,” Elie said, and placed Rupert Danzig’s passport and SS identification card on the table. “I have served Herr Obergruppenfuhrer since the beginning of the war. I have executed all his orders diligently. He is still my master.”
Armande Hoffgeitz examined the SS card without touching it. “I wonder why he didn’t contact me directly.”
“He is,” Elie said, “contacting you directly-through me. He awaits the day that speaking with you face-to-face would no longer endanger him, or you.”
The hint of personal peril was sufficient to get the banker off the subject of direct communications. “But why does he wish to withdraw the funds? Does he doubt our reliability?”
Elie had an answer ready. “Herr Obergruppenfuhrer has determined that it is time to begin preparing for the Fourth Reich.”
The Swiss banker put both hands forward as if trying to ward off the words.
“And the first step,” Elie continued, “is to help the Arabs complete the Fuhrer’s final solution. Our men have kept in top shape, ready to serve under the new leader of the German people: Obergruppenfuhrer Klaus von Koenig. Crack teams of veteran experts-battle strategists, armament specialists, engineers, pilots-will take undercover lead in the Middle East as part of the Egyptian joint-Arab command. Herr Obergruppenfuhrer has decided that the narrow territory inhabited by the Jews in the Holy Land is perfect for a blitzkrieg-cut them in half through Jerusalem and the West Bank to the Mediterranean Sea, then thrust north and south simultaneously in a rapid annihilation of their primary population centers along the coast. It’s a very expensive project, but necessary. As long as the Israelis are still around, Herr Obergruppenfuhrer’s personal safety is in danger. The destruction of the Jews will open the door for the return to power of our Nationalsozialistische Deutsche Arbeiterpartei in Germany and the rest of Europe. It’s time!” Elie stood up, clicked his heels, and raised his arm in a Nazi salute. “ Heil Hitler! ”
Armand Hoffgeitz’s cheeks lost much of their ruddiness. He rose slowly and buttoned his suit jacket over his protruding belly. “My assistant will handle the formalities.”
“Thank you.”
“And please tell my dear friend Klaus that I look forward to seeing him in person.” Pausing at the door, Herr Hoffgeitz said, “By the way, how is his beautiful friend?”
It took a moment for Elie to understand he was referring to Tanya. “The Jewess?”
“Yes.”
“She’s dead.”
When his boss left the room, Gunter Schnell opened a file. The top document was a blank form. He started filling it out, copying the information from Danzig’s passport and SS card.
Elie pulled out a new pack of Lucky Strike and tore off the wrapping.
“Account number please?”
Elie wasn’t ready for this question. “You don’t know the number?”
“Standard procedure. Like every other client, General von Koenig chose a number and a password. This bank will not take instructions or reveal account information before a client provides these two pieces of information. Surely he told you, yes?”
“Of course.” Elie coughed to mask his ignorant surprise. “Now let me think. It’s been several weeks since I left Argentina.”
Gunter waited.
Trying to keep a straight face, Elie had to make a convincing show of forgetfulness. “He didn’t want me to write it down. I’m afraid the memory escaped me momentarily.”
“Well, then.” The banker put down his pen. “We cannot do anything until you provide the account number and password.”
Sudden rage hit Elie as he realized that Tanya had tricked him. “May I use the telephone?”
W hen they left Tanya’s house, Lemmy thought he heard the phone ring inside. She was already by the car, reaching to open the trunk for his duffel bag.
“Isn’t that your-”
“I have an idea.” She held the trunk open. “Let’s stop by Meah Shearim, and you’ll run in to say hello to your mother.”
“ What? ”
She patted his Uzi. “No one is going to mess with you. Just go in and tell her you’re doing fine, not to worry. What’s the worst that could happen? They’ll ignore you?”
“Great idea!” Lemmy threw his bag in the trunk and slammed it shut. “Should I stop by the synagogue to say hello to my old friends? Check out the new chandelier?”
Tanya drove along the border, where hundreds of Orthodox men of all ages were digging up the sidewalks and filling up pillowcases in lieu of sandbags.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “I defied their God, spat on their sacred rules, made a farce out of their divine truth.”
“You didn’t spit on anything. You took a different path, that’s all.”
“My father once hit me for asking an inappropriate question. For a question!” He gestured at his uniform. “This is a million times worse than a question, more than blasphemy. For them, it’s Khilool Ha’Shem — Desecration of God in the worst way! Don’t you understand what Neturay Karta is all about?”
“But still, your mother loves you no matter what.”
“You love me too, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then imagine that I went to Tel Aviv and raped Bira, completely and violently ravished her, left your darling daughter violated, bleeding, broken, sprawled on the sidewalk. Would you still love me? Would you want me to stop by and say hello?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Yes, it is! I raped their Talmud, ravished their faith, crapped on their holy way of life, and shot down their chandelier.”
“That was an accident.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I’m dead to them, especially to my parents.” He hit the door of the car with a clenched fist. “Worse than dead!”
After a few moments of driving in silence, Tanya said, “You might be right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t be angry at me, but I went to see your father.”
Lemmy was too shocked to say anything.
“Many weeks ago. I gave him your address in the army so your mother could write to you.” Tanya sighed. “I don’t understand why she didn’t.”
“Because I’ve been excommunicated! I don’t exist anymore!”
At the central bus station, Tanya parked and accompanied him inside. Hundreds of soldiers milled about, some young like Lemmy, others much older, reservists in haphazard combinations of uniform and civilian clothes.
A group of kids sat on the ground in a circle, singing a popular tune: “ Nasser sits and waits for Rabin, ai, yai yai, and he should wait ’cause Rabin is coming, ai, yai yai, to bang him on his head, ai yai yai. ”
They stopped to watch the kids sing. She took his hand.
“Sorry I yelled at you.”
She pulled him toward the row of buses. “You’ll miss your ride.”
“Will you attend my graduation ceremony next month?”
They reached his bus. “I can’t leave my post. We’re sitting on a cinder box.”
“That’s okay,” he muttered. “My friends would be surprised to see anyone showing up for me.”
“My poor little Jerusalem.” She held him tightly. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but just to make you feel better, I really can’t travel. The fate of the city is hanging in the balance. We need as much information as possible.”
The bus began to back up from the dock. He bent down to kiss her lips, but Tanya offered her cheek instead.
T he overseas telephone number had many digits, and Elie tried again, fingering each digit, impatient for the dial to rotate back, the pulses t
o travel the lines to Jerusalem. But the telephone in Tanya’s house rang and rang without an answer.
He dialed her number again every few minutes for almost an hour, but there was no response. He wondered whether she even knew the account number and password. It would have been careless for her Nazi lover to give her the ledger and the codes. Was it possible to guess them? Back in 1945, SS General Klaus von Koenig must have realized it would be many years before he could return to Zurich. He had to use a memorable pattern. Perhaps the name of a place or a person? Something related to Tanya? Elie jotted down TANYA 1945. Below he wrote in reverse order: AYNAT 5491.
A while later, Herr Hoffgeitz’s assistant reappeared. Elie showed him the page. Gunter checked the file and shook his head. “Please return when you have the correct information, Herr Danzig. Or, better yet, suggest to General von Koenig that he comes here in person.”
Elie collected the passport, the SS identification card, the ledger, and the list of the Paris accounts. He put everything in his inside breast pocket.
The elderly attendant helped Elie into his coat, and Gunter Schnell held the front door open. “By the way, Herr Danzig, how did you like the Chagall windows at the Fraumunster?”
“I didn’t,” Elie responded without missing a beat. “Typical Juden kitsch masquerading as art. Don’t you agree?”
Chapter 35
Late at night, after turning on the recording devices, Tanya went to bed with an Agnon book. The story was titled Agunot — The Forsaken Wives. It dramatized the traditional marriage that kept a woman bound by the strictures of Talmud long after all the other aspects of matrimony had dissolved. Sad, but beautifully written. She was so caught up in the world that Agnon had created that the knocks on the door seemed to belong in the story rather than in reality. But they sounded again, insistent, loud.
She wrapped herself in the blanket and went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Abraham Gerster.”
When she opened the door, only his face, beard, and payos stood out in the darkness, the rest of him as black as the night. He was panting hard.
“You walked here?”
He nodded.
“Why in the middle of the night?”
“I waited until my wife fell asleep.” He coughed. “She’s going out of her mind. I have to do something. You must help me!”
“How did you know where I live?”
“My son.” He gasped for air. “I followed him one Saturday when he-”
“When he came for my books?”
“Was it only books he came for?”
Tanya thought of their Saturday afternoons together, Lemmy’s clothes on the floor, easily visible through the window.
He leaned against the doorpost. “Oh, Tanya, what have I done?”
She reached up and caressed the side of his face. “It’s not your fault.”
“Who else?” He grabbed her hands and pressed them to his chest. “My heart belonged to you! Always! But I agreed to live a lie! I made a terrible mistake marrying her!”
Her heart racing, Tanya spoke with difficulty. “Did you tell your wife to write-”
Noise outside made them turn.
Out of the darkness, in the dim light from the door, a woman appeared. She wore a gray headdress, her face bright with sweat, her body covered in a black coat-a man’s coat, which Tanya realized must be Lemmy’s old coat. Below it, her shins were exposed, very white, and her bare feet.
“Temimah!” He let go of Tanya’s hands.
She stepped closer. Her feet left wet prints of blood. “You stole my son!” She pointed a trembling finger at Tanya. “Now you want to take my husband?”
“No,” Tanya said, “please, you don’t understand-”
“ Vixen!” Her voice had a primal pitch, like an animal screeching at the moment of death. “ I curse you! ”
“Temimah,” Abraham’s pleaded, “enough.”
“ God will bring you sorrow! Grief! ” Her eyes rolled up and she collapsed.
Chapter 36
The weeks since his visit to Tanya’s home in Jerusalem had flown by with exhausting drills and endless hikes in the desert. Bits of news reports told the trainees of the rising tensions in the country as tens of thousands of reservists, called up to guard the borders, sat idly in makeshift camps and waited for the government to tell them whether to fight or to return home to their families and jobs. But Prime Minister Eshkol continued to plead with the Americans to confirm the ten-year-old guarantee issued by President Eisenhower to use U.S. forces against Egypt in the event it attacked Israel, and the Arabs continued to build up their massive forces in the Sinai Desert, the Golan Heights, and the West Bank.
On the eve of Independence Day, Zigelnick informed Lemmy and Sanani that they would carry the flags at the main parade in Jerusalem. They tossed a coin, and Sanani won the national flag, Lemmy the IDF banner.
The soldiers had spent the night oiling guns, ironing shirts, and shining shoes. A military barber set up a chair near the outdoor showers, and the kitchen supplied hot coffee and cold sandwiches to keep everyone awake.
At sunrise, they lined up three-deep, and Captain Zigelnick inspected each soldier’s appearance. “Listen up,” he said. “You’ll represent the Paratroopers Brigade, but it’s not because you’re so good looking.”
Everyone laughed.
“But because everyone else is on alert along the borders.” The captain looked at them for a moment, letting the implication set in. “So wipe the milk from your lips and march like real soldiers. And don’t expect lots of adoring crowds. The Voice of Israel told listeners to stay home and enjoy the live broadcast of the parade, followed by the National Bible Bee.” He grinned. “Let’s load up!”
It took another hour to get all the gear on the truck. They left the camp as the heat of the desert began to rise. Sanani led the company in singing Israeli folk songs, which he modified to his own lyrics, mostly involving female body parts that rhymed with the names of Arab leaders.
T he heartbreaking confrontation with Temimah Gerster had left Tanya shaken up. She wanted to call an ambulance, but Abraham disappeared into the night, carrying his wife in his arms. He must have feared a public scandal.
As the days passed, the intensity of UN communications rose steadily. Her work consumed every waking moment.
One morning, soon after Tanya finished her first cup of coffee, she picked up a radio conversation between UN General Odd Bull and one of his officers-an Indian by his accented English. Bull instructed the officer to alert the UN observers stationed at the Mandelbaum Gate that he would be crossing over to the Israeli side later to protest the Israelis’ Independence Day parade, which he called “That damned Jewish provocation!”
Tanya was still writing down the last sentence of their conversation, translated into Hebrew, when Elie arrived. He came in with a burning cigarette dangling from his thin lips. She held up an ashtray for him to stub it. He had been showing up occasionally since his return from Zurich weeks earlier, trying to pry open her memories of the years with Klaus. She had been honest in her denials. Klaus had never told her the account number and password. But fearing that Elie would somehow interfere with Lemmy’s new life, she forced herself to treat him cordially.
“I have to call in a report,” Tanya said. “General Bull is upset, even though Eshkol cut the parade down to a joke.”
“What choice did he have?” Elie removed his wool cap and rubbed his gaunt skull. “All the foreign ambassadors are boycotting our Independence Day. In all fairness, the Armistice Agreement bans heavy weapons in Jerusalem.”
“That agreement is long dead. The Arabs are violating it.” Tanya poured him a cup of coffee. “The Sinai and the West Bank are filled with their tanks and cannons.”
Elie took the cup from her hand cautiously. “It’s the diplomacy of oil.”
“It’s the diplomacy of turning the other cheek. Eshkol has no right to downgrade Israel’s national birthday. A parade is an opportunity
to showcase the IDF’s power to our nervous population.”
“What’s to showcase? President Johnson suspended delivery of the new Patton tanks and Skyhawk jets on condition that we allow American inspections of the nuclear reactor in Dimona. And the French are holding up the weapons we’ve already paid for. You think a parade would reassure the nation?” Elie took a sip of coffee. “Listen, I was thinking. Do you remember von Koenig’s birthday?”
“Sometime in 1910. April, I think.”
“You didn’t celebrate it?”
“Not really.” Tanya recalled Klaus returning from a field inspection, aching from endless hours in the car. When he saw the cake she had baked for him, he kissed her and asked her to give it to his driver, Felix. Instead of blowing out candles, they soaked in a hot bath. At first they listened to Wagner, but as Klaus’s mood improved, they piled more embers under the bath and started reciting lines from a play he had taken her to see in Berlin a month earlier. They ended up laughing so hard that the bathwater splashed all over the room.
“Tanya?”
“Yes.” She shook her head to drive away the sadness. “Klaus didn’t like to celebrate his birthday. But he was important enough that the date should be on record somewhere.” Before Elie could ask another question, she headed to the other room. “I must return to my work. Please let yourself out.”
Elie put down his cup of coffee. “Have you heard from Abraham?”
Something in his voice made Tanya pause. “Why should I hear from him?”
“Well, that’s interesting.”
“Why?”
He pulled the wool cap down over his ears and opened the front door. “It’s just that I assumed he would run straight to you with the bad news.”
“Bad news?” Her chest constricted with dread. “What bad news?”
T he drive from the Negev Desert to Jerusalem took over three hours, providing time for much-needed sleep. They woke up in the city, which was crowded despite the government’s call to stay home. Lemmy sat in the back of the truck and took in the incredible sight of thousands of Israelis in white shirts and blue pants, the children waving little flags, the windows and balconies along the road packed with cheerful spectators.
The Jerusalem inception Page 25