Catherine was speechless.
Jeffers walked around the table and stood next to Catherine’s chair, looking down at her and speaking solicitously. “Miss Lockhart, this is really not the kind of messy business that’s good for you or your firm. How old are you? You look very young.”
She responded meekly, as though she were being addressed by her elementary school teacher. “I’m 39.”
“Well,” he said in a sickly-sweet tone, “to me that’s very young, indeed. You have a long career in front of you, many years as a fine lawyer. But this matter, representing this deranged character, would surely brand you as a pariah in the legal community, if you know what I mean. The leaders of our profession, the judges and lawyers that I know, would not be receptive to one who risks her professional stature on such a man.”
He turned to his junior and held out his hand. As though rehearsed, the young lawyer quickly handed Jeffers a DVD and shot a smug grin in Catherine’s direction. Jeffers set the DVD on the table in front of Catherine.
“You may have this copy. Show it to your client. Get him to sign the order and then send him on his way. By the way, it may interest you to know that Mr. Rosenzweig has spent a considerable sum of money himself, looking into this Nazi issue, this Otto Piatek.”
Jeffers and his two associates walked to the door.
“Call me when the order is signed. You needn’t get up, Miss Lockhart. We know the way out. Good day.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ben arrived punctually at noon carrying a paper bag.
“I stopped by the farmer’s market at the Daley Plaza. I brought us some apples. Last of the season.”
He smiled, but Catherine did not.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Sit down, Ben, I want to show you something.”
Ben watched the video play out on a computer screen.
“I should’ve figured. Okay. I agree, that was dumb. I thought maybe I’d see something in his house, maybe some of my mother’s jewelry. Maybe the silver tea service. Maybe I’d find the physical evidence, the solid proof you’re always talking about.”
“Mr. Rosenzweig’s attorneys brought this video over today along with a proposed Order of Protection. It’s a restraining order, Ben, to keep you away from Rosenzweig and stop you from accusing him. They want to file this as an agreed order or they’ll pursue it through the court,” she said, handing the document to Ben.
He read the proposed order. “I’m not going to sign this.”
“Ben, they have you on video. You have no defense.”
“To get this entered by a judge, he’d have to go to court and testify against me, wouldn’t he?”
“You mean Mr. Rosenzweig?”
“I mean Otto.”
“Yes, he would.”
Ben sat back with a Cheshire grin. “He’ll never do it. He doesn’t want to confront me in a courtroom. Remember, his life is built on lies and cover-ups.”
“He’s retained a powerful law firm. They’re not afraid to battle it out in court.”
“If I signed this order, the case would be over, wouldn’t it? I’d be enjoined from accusing him.”
“Essentially, that’s correct.”
“No way.” Ben shook his head. “Let me ask the question a different way. If I don’t agree to sign this order and Otto decides to take me to court, would the judge enter the order?”
“Maybe. He’d certainly enjoin you from trespassing on the Rosenzweig property and from harassing him. I have my doubts as to whether he can enjoin you from accusing him in a lawsuit.”
“Then I’d be no worse off than if I signed it, right?”
“I guess not. I might also tell you that Gerald Jeffers urged me to drop you as a client on the threat of ruining my reputation.”
Ben looked concerned. “I’m sorry. Does he have that kind of power?”
Catherine shrugged. “Jeffers is influential.”
“Are you dropping me?”
Catherine shook her head. “I don’t take well to intimidation. My natural reflex is to say, ‘screw you.’”
Ben leaned forward, smacking the table with his palm. “I knew I was right about you. And I’m right about Rosenzweig. That’s one issue you don’t have to worry about. Rosenzweig is Piatek and of that I’m one hundred percent positive. And it will all come together. That I promise you.”
“There’s something else. Jeffers told me that Rosenzweig has spent considerable money looking for Piatek.”
“He said that?” Ben wrinkled his face in a sarcastic smile. “Very clever, Mr. Rosenzweig. I suppose after he throws a few dollars around, he’ll come up with a story that Piatek died in the war, or maybe disappeared in Casablanca. Nice try. He is Piatek and I will prove it.”
Catherine sighed. “You won’t sign the order of protection?”
“Nope. Don’t you see, all this pressure, the baloney about trying to find Piatek, it’s all about the lawsuit. They know we’re planning to file a lawsuit and they’re trying to scare off my lawyer.”
Catherine shook her head. “I don’t see that. They don’t know that we’re planning to file. I don’t know that we’re planning to file. At this stage I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is about them catching you trespassing on a surveillance video.”
Ben smiled and shook his head. “Have faith, young lady. Hear me out, listen to my story and you’ll understand. I promise.”
Catherine looked weary. Picking up her pen and paper, she said, “All right, last week you told me that you left your sister and Hannah in the cabin. You took Buttermilk and the wagon back to Grandpa Yaakov’s and found the wooden chest full of jewels but no money. Am I right?”
Ben nodded.
Zamość, Poland 1941
“It was late in the afternoon when I walked from the farm to the outskirts of Zamość and took the bus back to our home on Belvederski Street. The July sun was high in the skies and weather was warm.”
“Why did you go back to Belvederski Street? I thought you said your family was being resettled to New Town.”
“Well, I didn’t know where they would be. Maybe they were still in the house. Maybe they hadn’t vacated yet. I hadn’t had any contact with them for several months. So I thought my home would be the logical place to start. I walked up to the door and rang the bell. A stout lady with a bulbous nose and tightly permed white hair answered and stood in my doorway. She had on a black wool dress, a formless thing that draped over her stocky body and hung down to her shins and she stood with her arms folded across her chest in a defiant posture.
“‘I’m looking for the Solomons,’ I said.
“‘They don’t live here anymore. They’re Jews. They all live in New Town now. Who are you?’
“‘No one,’ I said. She gave me a nasty look and slammed the door.
“I walked down the steps and headed for Kozmierski Street to catch the bus to New Town, but as I reached the corner I saw two German soldiers standing at the bus stop. I turned and walked across the street, melting into the pedestrian crowd. One of them saw me, followed me and confronted me at the next corner.
“‘Dokumente, bitte,’ he said.
“‘Nicht verstehe,’ I replied. ‘I don’t understand.’
“He grinned at me and shoved me back against a building with his rifle. ‘Papers,’ he repeated.
“I just shook my head. I had no papers and I wasn’t wearing an arm band, so I was immediately arrested and taken to a warehouse near the town hall where they locked me in a tiny windowless room. All during that dark night I was tormented by my bad decisions. Why did I leave the mountains? What was I thinking? If I were killed, who would care for Hannah and Beka? If they send me to a concentration camp, who will protect them? How I regretted my decision to return to Zamość. I should have budgeted our money more carefully and left for Slovakia when my parents didn’t show up. I should have listened to Beka when she begged me not to go.
“After an eternity,
the door was opened and two guards stood in the doorway silhouetted by a blinding light. They pulled me up by my armpits and shoved me down the hall to an office where they sat me in a metal chair before a lesser-ranked SS officer.
“‘What is your name, Saujude?’ the SS corporal said. He was a beastly man, so fat he couldn’t fasten the bottom two buttons of his tunic. His blemished forehead was covered in sweat.
“‘Benjamin Solomon,’ I answered.
“‘Who sent you to Frau Maudsten’s yesterday afternoon?’
“‘Who?’
“A guard slapped me and the officer repeated the question.
“‘The only place I’ve been to is my home on Belvederski.’
“The officer snorted. ‘That’s not your home and you know it. It belongs to Frau Maudsten. Your family has been resettled. Why did you go to Belvederski?’
“‘It was an innocent mistake,’ I said. I didn’t want to tell him I had been out of Zamość. ‘I was on a work detail. I forgot we had moved. Without thinking, I walked up to the front door and then I remembered that it wasn’t my house any more and I left. I didn’t cause any trouble, sir.’
“‘You have no papers and no work permit. You have no arm band. You’re not permitted outside of New Town. Did you forget all that, too?’
“‘No. I lost my work permit and my arm band, or maybe I left them at my new apartment.’
“‘I thought you said you were coming home from a work detail?’
“‘That’s right. I’m very tired. I get confused.’
“He gestured to a guard to take me out. ‘Too many mistakes, Saujude. You are to be sent with the next group to the new camp at Majdanek.’ I was grabbed again and hustled to the door.
“‘Wait!’ I said quickly at the doorway. ‘I didn‘t tell you the truth. I was on a special assignment.’”
“Special Assignment? Why on earth did you say that?” Catherine said.
“I was a dead man anyway. Either he’d kill me for lying or I’d be sent to Majdanek and nobody ever returned from there. I had nothing to lose.
“‘Oh. I’m sure.’ He laughed at me. ‘And what was this special assignment, Saujude?’
“‘I can’t tell you,’ I said.
“‘Oh, you’ll tell me, I promise you that.’ They closed the door and brought me back to the chair. The corporal took a knife from his desk. “You’ll tell me right before you die.”
“‘Then you’ll be the one sent to Majdanek,’ I said. ‘My orders came straight from Scharfuhrer Piatek.’
“The SS officer laughed heartily. His fat belly shook. ‘Where did you hear that name?’
“‘Scharfuhrer Piatek gave me my assignment and warned me to keep it secret. If you don’t believe me, take me to him.’
“The officer hesitated. ‘You’re lying.’
“‘Can you take that chance?’
“He unholstered his pistol and waved it at me, directing me to proceed out of the room. ‘I’ll take you to Scharfuhrer Piatek and if you’re lying I’ll shoot you on the spot.’
“We left the prison and walked to Otto’s office at the town hall. Thank goodness he was still there. I hadn’t heard from him in months, since he dropped us at the side of the road. The corporal said, ‘This Jewish pile of shit tells me he is on secret assignment from you, Scharfuhrer.’
“Otto showed no recognition and looked down at his papers. Finally, he looked up and said, ‘The Jew is correct. I sent him on a mission. Leave us.’
“The fat man bowed. ‘Yes sir, Scharfuhrer. That’s why I insisted he be brought directly to you.’
“Otto waved him away with the back of his hand.
“When he had left and shut the door, Otto said, ‘What are you doing back in Zamość. I took you out of here.’
“‘Where is the rest of the family? You were supposed to bring them to Uncle Joseph’s.’
“‘They won’t leave. Your father’s serving on the Judenrat and Hannah’s father is running a clinic. I tried to get them to leave. I warned them that if they stayed here they’d have to move to New Town and probably to a resettlement area after that. Maybe you can talk them into leaving.’
“I felt it was time to bring up the money. ‘Otto,’ I said, ‘I went to Grandpa Yaakov’s.’ He showed no reaction. ‘Where’s the money?’
“‘Is that what you have to say to me? Where’s the money? Go to hell, Ben! I risk my life to get you to the mountains. I risk my rank and position bringing your family food. I even offered to get the rest of your family out and you have the ingratitude to accuse me, saying, “Where’s the money?”’
“‘My father gave you over 60,000 Zlotys, our life savings. I know the Weissbaums gave you money, too.’
“‘I had to move it, Ben. I didn’t trust Zeleinski. It’s all in my apartment, under lock and key. Well, almost all of it. I had to use a little. These Germans have a ritzy life style and if I want to stay connected I’ve got to be a big spender.’
“‘What about all that jewelry I saw? The box was filled to the brim, like a real treasure chest, and it didn’t all come from us.’
“‘I’ve helped other people, Ben. The Solomons and Weissbaums aren’t the only families in Zamość. But let’s not argue,’ he said getting up from his desk and putting his arm around my shoulders. ‘Let me take you to the family.’
“He drove me into the New Town ghetto. I couldn’t believe my eyes. First of all, many of the buildings had been damaged or destroyed by the German bombs. Second, there were people everywhere. So many. And in such a sorry condition. The worst poverty you’ve ever seen. Otto pulled up to the side of a large warehouse, stopped his car and let me out. ‘The family lives here now. They’re all on the second floor.’
“In its pre-war days, the brick building had been a grain warehouse with loading docks and offices on the first floor. Now it was a giant dormitory. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and asked a young girl where I might find the Solomons. She led me down the hall to a large warehouse space which had been partitioned into living areas by hanging blankets and sheets from the ceiling. The degrading conditions gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. My mother was straightening up a small corner area that held a bed and a few pieces of her furniture.
“‘Benjamin,’ she cried. ‘I prayed that I would see you again, but not in here.’ She hugged me and kissed me and we both shed tears. With my arms around her, I could tell she’d lost a lot of weight. Once she was an elegant dresser. Now her cotton dress hung straight from her shoulders like it was on a hanger. In the four months since I’d left, she had aged considerably.
“‘Is this your home now?’ I asked.
“She nodded sadly. ‘We’re allotted this corner of the floor. The Judenrat is under enormous pressure to find living space for each of the families in the ghetto. There are so many here, Benjamin. Jews from all over the region have been sent here.’ She shrugged and smiled. ‘But we make do. We share a kitchen on the first floor, we take turns in the bathroom and we try to be respectful of special needs. Sit down, my handsome boy. You’re so tan and healthy. How are Rebecca and Hannah?’
“‘They’re fine. Just as healthy, thanks to the mountain air. We’ve been very lucky, living at Uncle Joseph’s.’
“Sitting there talking to my mother, I felt guilty about my condition. What right did I have to good health while my mother was wasting away in the corner of a rat’s hole? I vowed to get her out.
“Holding my hands, she said, ‘Why did you come back? You were free. Things here get worse every day.’
“‘I came back for you.’
“She hugged me and sobbed. ‘Oh, Benjamin, that’s so like you, so foolhardy. But your father is very involved. We cannot come just yet.’
“‘Where are the others?’
“Her expression turned grave. ‘I’m so sorry to tell you. Grandpa Yaakov has died.’
“A cold shiver shot through my spine. ‘What happened?’
“‘You know wh
at a strong, independent man he was and how outspoken he could be. It happened during one of their incessant roll calls. We were told to line up outside the building. The Germans with their rifles and their savage dogs walked up and down the line screaming insults and pushing and slapping. For no reason. Grandpa Yaakov protested. He said, “Why do you treat people like this? Were you brought up as animals?”’
“‘Oh, my God.’
“‘Benjamin, they set their dog on him. They laughed as the dog tore into Yaakov. Mr. Leibman, who was standing beside him, tried to help and the dog attacked him too. Both of them died from their wounds. We buried Yaakov on May 22nd. Rabbi Gerstein gave a beautiful eulogy. He said such nice things about Yaakov. You’d have been proud.’
“‘And Uncle Joseph?’
“My mother shook her head and cried into her hands. ‘Benjamin, Benjamin, it’s all so inhuman, so ungodly. Joseph could not stand without a crutch. Sometimes in the assemblies, when we were forced to stand for hours, we’d hold him up. Finally, the Germans took everyone with such a disability and sent them away. We don’t know where, but I’ve heard stories. Some even say they were shot in the woods.’
“‘Aunt Hilda?’
“‘She’s here, but she’s not well. We’ve had some sickness going through the ghetto. Dr. Weissbaum is treating her. She went for a walk. She should be home soon.’
“‘We need to get you and the others out of here,’ I said. ‘It’s safe at Uncle Joseph’s.’
“She cupped my face. ‘Talk to your father. If he leaves, I’ll leave.’
“Later that day, I found my father sitting behind a desk in the Judenrat office, which was located in a part of the old synagogue. There was a line of people waiting to speak to him. He stood and embraced me but then repeated my mother’s query, ‘Why did you come back?’
“‘We waited and waited for you. Beka and Hannah, they wouldn’t leave without you. Finally, we ran out of money.’
“‘Otto has our money,’ he said. ‘I gave him all we had.’
“‘I know. I saw Otto this morning. I want to take you and Mother to the mountains.’
Once We Were Brothers Page 16