Sabine woke with a start and reached out to her side, only to become aware that she was still half-lying on the couch. She knew she should go upstairs, but she couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in the bed she’d shared with Werner, afraid she’d never see him again.
Chapter 10
Continuing to go through the motions of normal life was taking a toll on Sabine. It had been several days since she’d been summoned by Kriminalkommissar Becker, but his cruel, unpitying stare still followed her wherever she went. She jumped at every noise, fearing it was him or his henchmen, coming for her again.
Becoming friendly with Frau Klausen proved harder than imagined. For one thing, Sabine wasn’t a social butterfly and didn’t have much experience warming up to people. That had always been Werner’s job. And while Frau Klausen was kind and warm-hearted, she never once talked about anything personal, except for tales about her children from years ago.
The restraint in the older woman’s behavior left Sabine wondering if they would ever become the sort of friends the Reich hoped for.
Sunday morning arrived, and Sabine used her only day off to clean the small house. She was mopping the kitchen floor when a sharp knock came on the front door. Whoever can this be? She put water bucket and mop aside and wiped her hands on her apron before she opened the door.
And wished she hadn’t.
Kriminalkommissar Becker stood in front of her, wearing what seemed his best Sunday suit. He raised his hat and asked, “Don’t you want to invite me in?”
“Of course, please step inside,” she said with a trembling voice, racking her brain about what he might want. Wasn’t she supposed to report back to Lily? Not that she had done it, but there hadn’t been anything newsworthy to report either.
“I’ve been patiently waiting for news, but now my patience is coming to an end,” he said, stretching out on Werner’s place on the couch as if he owned it.
Sabine fought the lump closing her throat and said, “I’ve tried to become friendly with Frau Klausen, just as you told me to. But so far she hasn’t said anything remotely compromising.”
“We know she works for the enemies of the Reich.” Herr Becker glanced around, stopping at the framed wedding photograph of Sabine and Werner. He walked across the room and took the picture into his hands. “Such a beautiful couple. It would be a shame if you had to put a mourning edge around it.”
Sabine almost collapsed from a heart attack the moment the macabre words left his thin lips, but Becker ignored her predicament. “I believe you’ll have to try a lot harder.” His finger caressed Werner’s face on the photograph.
“If…if you already know Frau Klausen is part of the resistance, why don’t you just arrest her?” she stammered.
“I told you before, and I will tell you again, Frau Mahler.” He put the framed image back onto the chest of drawers and walked over to stand in front of Sabine. His nearness sped up her heartbeat. “Frau Klausen is a minnow. We want the heads of the organization. And you will lead us to them.” His finger caressed her cheek the same way it had caressed her husband’s picture, and Becker muttered, “Such a lovely couple…a real shame.”
The icy grip of terror squeezing the air from her lungs, Sabine barely managed to keep upright, saying, “But how?”
“You should be grateful to have me thinking for you,” Becker said, giving her a very smug grin, “because I have the perfect plan. You are going to move in with Frau Klausen and her daughter Ursula.”
“Me? I’m going to move in with them?” Sabine couldn’t believe her own ears. This man couldn’t be serious about her moving in with random strangers.
“Yes. We need to speed things up.” He licked his lips, enjoying this brilliant idea of his.
“But…I have a home of my own. Why would I move in with someone else? That doesn’t make sense. And why would Frau Klausen even agree to this?” Sabine voiced the myriad of questions running around in her head.
“See, this is where I come into the picture. We’ll visit the office for housing assignments and tell them your house was bombed, and thanks to my connections you’ll be immediately assigned new housing.”
Sabine shivered at the evil plan. “But…it would be…next to impossible that they would assign me to Frau Klausen and not to someplace else.”
“You leave that part to me. My people can make just about anything happen in this country.”
She didn’t have the slightest doubt that he spoke the truth. No agency in Germany had more power than the Gestapo. If Becker wanted her to live with the Klausens, it would be one of his easiest tasks to arrange.
“So, how do you like my fantastic plan?” he asked, genuine joy visible in his face.
How could this sadistic monster be so…narcissistic? Didn’t he have a modicum of feeling for his fellow humans? Actually, she already knew the answer and said, “It’s a devious plan. I would never have been able to come up with this.” Then a doubt entered her mind and she spoke aloud, “What if anyone finds out my house didn’t really get bombed?”
Becker tilted his head to the side, a flash of sorrow at the shortcoming in his plan crossing his face. But it took only a few moments before he smiled again. “You truly are intelligent. You’ll be an asset to us. Trust me, nobody will find out. You have one hour to pack what you wish to keep.”
“One hour?” Sabine repeated, like she was soft in the head, still trying to process everything he’d said.
“I would suggest you don’t waste a minute of it. And now please excuse me, I have things to arrange.” Becker walked to the door and let himself out. Sabine followed him as if in a trance and leaned her back against the locked door.
Taking in the familiar sights of her small home, a shudder run through her body when the realization hit her that in a few short minutes, she’d be leaving this place behind, perhaps forever.
She rushed through the house, gathering her clothes and shoes, folding everything into the only suitcase she possessed. Then she scoured the rooms for the things that meant the most to Werner and herself. The framed wedding picture. Check. The photo album from her childhood years. Love letters Werner had written to her. The silver necklace he’d given her for her birthday. The pipe she’d given him and that he enjoyed smoking so much. Check, check, check. Everything else would have to stay.
The chest of drawers they’d bought with his first paycheck after their marriage. Her grandmother’s antique long-case clock. The crockery that was a wedding gift from Werner’s parents. The monogrammed silverware.
She snuck two single spoons into the suitcase and closed it with tears in her eyes. The one-hour window drew to a close, and she found herself sitting atop the crammed suitcase and dreading Becker’s return.
Chapter 11
Sabine jumped at the awaited, and yet utterly unexpected, knock on the door. She glanced at her wristwatch, cursing the early arrival of her tormentor. Not more than fifty minutes had passed since Kriminalkommissar Becker had left the house. Her legs trembling, she made her way to the door somehow, without toppling over.
She smoothed her sweaty palms down her skirt and steeled herself for what would happen next as she opened the door.
Her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of her neighbor.
Lily loped into the sitting room, swirling around to take everything in, before she came to a stand and scrunched up her nose. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
“You? You are sorry? It was your idea in the first place to recruit me to work for them!” Sabine managed to keep her voice sufficiently low so the other neighbors wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls.
“Me? No.” Lily gave a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “It was Becker’s idea. But you should really have accepted my offer when I first told you about it. Nothing would have happened to Werner.”
“What do you know about Werner?” Sabine struggled to remain calm.
“No more than you do. Anyway, I came over to say I’m sorry for how things developed f
or you, and…” Lily seemed to be searching for words. “…and to give you a word of advice. Do whatever Becker asks, give him the information he wants, and your life will be so much better than before.”
A dark suspicion sprouted in Sabine’s heart. Had Lily been the one to suggest Werner be arrested to assure Sabine’s collaboration? “Go. Leave my house!” Sabine snapped, seething inside with a strong urge to wrap her hands around the woman’s skinny neck and squeeze until she stopped breathing. For good.
Smirking, Lily turned on her heel and flounced out of the house.
Hatred, grief and desperation burned in Sabine’s chest as she sank once again to the floor, looking at the lone suitcase standing in the entrance hall. Her life reduced to fifty by twenty inches. Never once had she believed this kind of thing could happen to her. Hadn’t she slept well in the treacherous security of not getting involved with politics and keeping her mouth shut?
Minutes later she heard a pounding on the front door again. Her wristwatch attested that the given hour was over, and she almost admired the Kriminalkommissar for his punctuality. The desolation of her impasse weighing heavily on her shoulders, she opened the front door for the third time on this cold but sunny March morning.
Becker greeted her with the bright smile of a smitten lad and she half expected him to produce a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Obviously this was wishful thinking, because the only things behind his back were five fierce-looking fellows in SS uniforms.
“Ah, you’re ready to leave,” Becker said with an exaggerated polite bow even as he motioned for the SS men to come inside. They carried strange-looking canisters and disappeared upstairs.
Sabine remained frozen in place, unable to make her legs move, when she heard heavy steps and slurping sounds above her head. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling more than a bit embarrassed at the thought of five strange men rummaging through her private drawers.
Embarrassment turned into terror when the men trampled down the stairs, pouring an acid-smelling liquid on her freshly cleaned stairs. Sabine gagged, and then gagged some more when her brain recognized the smell.
“Wh…what are they doing?” she asked Becker, who patiently stood by her side, giving a contented smile at the spectacle unfolding in front of him.
“Making things look real.”
Real for what? His plan to pretend her house had been bombed came crashing back and she shook her head in mute denial.
Becker ignored her and watched his men complete their work, before he took a matchbox from his pocket and offered it to her, “Would you like to do the honors?”
Sabine shook her head in bewilderment. She would not light up her own house. Becker, seeming not to care either way, lit the match and tossed it into the puddle of petrol. “It’s an irony of fate, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Sabine’s brain felt like mash.
“That the home of a fireman would fall prey to fire,” Becker chuckled and grabbed her elbow. “It’s time to leave, Frau Mahler.
A strange gratitude crept through her for his unforgiving grip on her arm. Otherwise, she would have turned to rush inside and…and what?
Sabine’s insides went numb. She lost all notion of time or place, but soon found herself sitting in the passenger seat of the black Gestapo vehicle, her suitcase neatly stowed in the trunk.
The vehicle lurched into motion and she couldn’t resist looking back at the place she and Werner had once called home as black smoke began to rise skyward. A sob for the things she’d been forced to leave behind threatened to burst from her throat, and she swallowed it down, holding her chin high as her fingernails dug deep into the flesh of her palms.
How much more would she be required to give up before they returned Werner to her?
Unfazed by her distress, Becker said in his usual cold voice, “Don’t worry about the housing assignment. I’ll take care of everything. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to drive you all the way to Frau Klausen’s place since she might become suspicious. Here’s the address.” He handed her a sheet of paper with the insignia of the official housing agency. Two blocks from the address, he stopped to let her out of the vehicle and said, “Good luck. And don’t forget to report to Fräulein Kerber twice a week.”
Then he left her standing at the corner and his automobile sped away.
Chapter 12
Sabine walked the two blocks with her heavy suitcase in hand. Should she consider herself lucky that Becker had given her the opportunity to rescue her dearest things before torching her house?
The cold gusts of early March crept beneath her greatcoat, making her yearn for the warm knitted blanket handed down from her grandmother. Gone up in flames.
Sabine shrugged. It didn’t help to wallow in self-pity, because she needed to stay strong for Werner. She stopped in front of a huge apartment building, so different from the street of little row houses where she lived – used to live, she corrected herself.
Most of the buildings in the area still stood upright, although even the best-looking ones showed obvious signs of shelling damage. It was such a shame. And why did those damned Allies have to bomb Berlin to rubble? Couldn’t they fight this war the old-fashioned way, soldier against soldier? Leaving the civilian population out of it?
Sabine pressed the bell and the electric buzzer sounded. She wondered that the door opener still worked with all the blackouts and shaky electricity in the city. The Klausen apartment was on the third floor, and Sabine dragged the heavy suitcase upstairs, heaving like a locomotive by the time she finally reached the landing.
As if by magic, a door opened and an elderly lady stepped out asking, “And you are?”
“Sabine Mahler, the new lodger,” she said and extended her hand.
The woman eyed her suspiciously, blatantly ignoring Sabine’s extended hand. “Who sent you?”
“The housing office assigned me to live here,” Sabine said, fumbling the official sheet of paper from her purse.
“Not with me.” The unfriendly woman stepped back and slammed the door in Sabine’s face. Only then did Sabine notice the door sign that said Weber. She turned to look at the two other doors on the landing and finally knocked on the one that said Klausen.
It took a while, before she heard footsteps and the clicking sound of the metal plate behind the peephole. Several seconds passed and Sabine feared the door would never open, but it finally did.
“You?” Frau Klausen asked, an expression of utter disbelief on her face.
“I’m sorry, Frau Klausen. I was bombed out and the housing office assigned me to live with you,” Sabine recited her rehearsed charade.
“Well, if that isn’t a coincidence. Come in.” Frau Klausen stepped out of the way and pointed at the small couch, worn to threads by many years of heavy use.
Great! She doesn’t buy my cover story. Despite groaning inwardly, she plastered a smile on her face. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience… Believe me, I didn’t ask for this. I’d rather have stayed in my own place.”
“When did you say your house was destroyed?” Frau Klausen asked, as she closed and locked the door.
When? Truth be damned. She hadn’t thought about that part of the story and searched her brain for the latest news about air raids in Berlin and hoped to get the location right. “Four nights ago, in Steglitz.”
“You told everyone your husband was in an accident. But in fact, your house was bombed? Where is he now?”
God, why does this woman have to be so perceptive? And suspicious? Sabine’s palms dampened as she realized that from now on she had to guard every single word she spoke and keep track of each and every lie. “He…he got injured during the raid and…” Sabine squeezed a tear out of her eye. “He…died…”
“When did this happen?” the older woman asked, her eyes narrowing. Thankfully, the appearance of a young blonde woman, who was the spitting image of Frau Klausen – and sporting a pregnancy bump – rescued Sabine from answering. A wave of hurt and je
alousy engulfed Sabine and for a moment she pondered turning on her heel and running away.
She couldn’t possibly live in the same place with a happily expecting woman. Not when her own…she shook off the sad thoughts and forced a smile on her face when the other woman said, “Hello, I’m Ursula Herrmann. Frau Klausen is my mother.”
“Sabine Mahler.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ursula said, giving her mother a stern look. “Please make yourself at home and don’t hesitate to ask should you need anything.” After the animosity shown by the usually kind Frau Klausen, it was refreshing to see a genuine smile on Ursula’s face.
“Thank you for making room in your apartment for me. I really appreciate this,” Sabine said.
“We are always eager to comply with the requests the Reich imposes on us to best serve the war effort,” Frau Klausen said in a stilted manner, and Sabine got the impression the older woman would just as soon strangle whoever had assigned a stranger into her home.
“Follow me,” Frau Klausen said, leading the way through the sitting room and opening a door on the far side. “This is where you will be staying. I’m going to say this once and I hope I don’t have to say it again. It would be better for people to believe we have never met prior to today.”
Never met? Sabine thought that a strange request, but she didn’t ask for an explanation and agreed, “Your house. Your rules.”
A small smile appeared on Frau Klausen’s lips and she said, “I see we understand each other. And since we’re talking about rules. I expect you to keep your room tidy and share in the cleaning of the common areas.”
Sabine nodded.
“And…” Frau Klausen gave a side glance at her daughter in the sitting room, before she continued, “This is a decent household and there will be no male visitors in my house. Is that clear?”
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