Reluctant Informer

by Marion Kummerow

  “So, why don’t we just let the Jews emigrate?” Sabine asked. “What’s so bad about it? They are not welcome in our country and if they want to leave, why not let them?”

  Lily pressed a hand on her chest, giving a little high-pitched gasp. “You are so naïve. Haven’t you studied the work of our great Führer?”

  Sabine nodded, although she wanted to say that Hitler’s book Mein Kampf, that every couple in Germany received as a gift on their wedding day, contained pages rife with an incoherent babble of hateful notions. After not being able to derive a single meaningful thought from the book, she’d given up on reading it and had put it on the bookshelf in the sitting room where every visitor could see it.

  “Jews are vermin.” Lily continued her lecture, scrunching up her dainty nose as if she’d smelled a skunk. “If just one of them escapes, they will propagate like cockroaches, infesting our Lebensraum. No, no. Hitler says we need to eradicate them all to provide for a better world. We cannot let the seeds of a weed remain to grow and damage Germany.”

  Sabine objected to that analogy, and she asked herself whether Lily meant eradicate literally and how exactly that would be performed. But she chose not to voice her own opinion, and instead gave a noncommittal nod, saying, “Thank you for your insight. I guess I hadn’t thought of things quite that way.”

  Lily beamed at her, basking in the knowledge she’d been able to help Sabine see the light. Sabine, though, wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. Not only was she lying to the Klausens, but also to the very people she shouldn’t be if she valued her life and Werner’s. Not that she liked Lily, or the Gestapo, but the constant lying, cheating and hiding nagged at her soul.

  Not a single word of truth had escaped her mouth in such a long time, she worried she wouldn’t remember how to be factual. Sabine had always prided herself on being an honest person, keeping her nose out of other people’s business. A wave of disgust shook her shoulders as she realized what had become of her. Deceiving a priest. And a very nice one at that! Pfarrer Bernau was the kind of person who emanated peace and acceptance. In his presence Sabine had felt cosseted.

  And now you’re going to betray the man… But only to save the life of another.

  Sabine gave Lily another encouraging smile and assured her, “I’ll find out who’s behind everything.”

  “Good. And I’m sure Becker will reward you. Then you can put all of this behind you.” Lily put a perfectly manicured hand on Sabine’s arm. “I knew you would do a good job. Call me on the telephone when you have received your instructions.”

  Sabine watched as Lily walked away, feeling an utter sense of hopelessness invade her soul once again. With her shoulders slumped and her eyes fixed to the ground, she returned to her temporary home.

  Chapter 22

  Sabine climbed the stairs to the apartment and reached for her key, only to freeze when she saw the door was ajar.

  She gave the door a slight kick with her foot and called out, “Hello? Is someone there?”

  No answer. But moments later, the door was yanked fully open and a man in a dark suit pointed his gun at her chest. “Ursula Hermann?”

  A gasp escaped her throat and for lack of words she shook her head.

  He seemed not to care and motioned with the barrel of his gun for her to step inside. The apartment teemed with rowdy men making quite a mess – tearing drawers from the bureau and throwing the contents to the ground, ripping open seat and couch covers, tossing crockery to the floor.

  Sabine swallowed hard. How am I going to explain this to Frau Klausen? Although Frau Klausen was the least of her problems right now. “I’m not—”

  “Sit,” the man commanded, still pointing the gun at her.

  “My name is—”

  “Quiet! Or I shoot you! Now sit!”

  Sabine snapped her mouth shut and settled onto the torn-up couch, the metal springs of its inner workings gouging painfully into her behind. She sat there, her hands shaking in her lap when several men exited the two bedrooms.

  “Nothing,” one of them said with a shake of his head.

  At least Frau Klausen won’t notice that I searched her private room, Sabine thought and almost scoffed at the ridiculousness of her notion. She definitely had worse problems right now. For example, the first man raising the gun at her head and saying, “Where is your hiding place?”

  “Hiding place?” Sabine questioned, confused at his question.

  “We have been keeping this apartment under surveillance for quite some time. You are working for the resistance…”

  Sabine shook her head, “No. I really am not. This is a misunderstanding. I’m Sabine Mahler and the Gestapo ordered me—”

  “We are the Gestapo and we didn’t order you to do anything, at least not yet…” A cruel smile appeared on the face of the man. He apparently was in charge of the operation, because he called to another man, “Take her to the vehicle. She doesn’t want to answer our questions here, so she can do so in one of our interrogation rooms.”

  Sabine’s knees started to shake. She’d just told everything she knew to Lily, so why had Kriminalkommissar Becker sent these men to the apartment to search it? “Look, please. I’m not the person you think…”

  “That’s what they all say. Do you really expect me to believe you?” the officer said.

  Probably not. She scrambled to come up with something to satisfy him. “I gave all my information to Lily just an hour ago, and—”

  “Aha…so this Lily, she’s your contact person?” the officer asked.

  “Yes, I’m supposed to give her all my information on a weekly basis.” Sabine’s voice trembled, but at least he didn’t wave that gun in front of her nose anymore.

  “You’re coming with us. There’s a lot we have to talk about,” he insisted. Before Sabine could react, a burly man yanked her from the couch and out of the apartment, dragging her down the stairs. If it weren’t for his brutal grip on her arm, she would have tumbled and landed in a heap of bones and limbs on the next landing.

  “Where are you taking me?” Sabine asked, fear almost choking her, because she did have a pretty good idea where they were taking her. The memory of the last interrogation in the Gestapo headquarters froze the blood in her veins.

  “You’ll see.” The man squeezed in beside her with a smug grin. “Although I doubt you’ll like it.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later the vehicle stopped in front of the abhorred building in Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse. Sabine did her best to remain calm and hopeful, but the violent tremble in her limbs betrayed her. Hadn’t she just given Lily all the information? Shouldn’t Becker be pleased instead of sending men to raid her apartment?

  The Gestapo brutes manhandled her into an interrogation room similar to the one she’d been in the last time. The bare light bulb hanging down from the ceiling flickered in rhythmic intervals, giving her a headache.

  Shoved into the room, she dropped onto the chair and barely managed to catch hold of the edge of the table to stabilize herself and keep from falling. “I’m not Ursula Hermann. My name is Sabine Mahler. This is a huge misunderstanding.”

  “Tell us the names of those you are working with,” the officer demanded, ignoring her protest.

  Sabine shook her head, not knowing of what they were talking. “Names? You know the names.”

  A fist connected with her chin. “Give us the names of the people you work with and we spare your life.”

  “Please…” Her lips quivered and she had to take a breath before she could voice more words. “I’m working for Kriminalkommissar Becker.”

  The officer dutifully noted the name and then realized what she’d said. “Liar!” The slap across her face came without a warning and Sabine pressed a hand on her burning cheek. “Tell me the truth!”

  “I was ordered to infiltrate an underground network,” she tried to explain.

  “So you admit being a subversive?”

  “No.” The word came
out in an exasperated yelp. “I’m not…Becker asked me to infiltrate—” Another stinging slap cut off the rest of her sentence. Sabine tasted blood in her mouth and she gingerly touched her cheek, wincing and trying not to give in to the urge to cry.

  These Gestapo men didn’t believe a single word of what she said. If it weren’t for her dire situation, she would have laughed. One hand of the foul operation didn’t know what the other one was doing.

  “Tell us the names of your contact persons,” the officer said, circling around her and coming to a stand behind her. “Now!” His hands came down on her shoulders and she involuntarily gagged.

  “I can’t. Not yet. I haven’t been able to find out who else works for this organization.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” the officer said, hitting the back of her head. “Give me the names.”

  “I told you, I’m trying to get those names, but I just made contact today…”

  “Lies! Nothing but lies!” the officer yelled. “Stop lying and tell me who you’re working with.”

  “I told you already, I’m working for Kriminalkommissar Becker.”

  “Frau Mahler, you are skating on very thin ice. Maybe you need some time to think about your circumstances. When we return, I would suggest you be prepared to give us the names of those in the resistance organization.”

  He didn’t have to say what the consequences would be if she failed to comply. The hard look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. She sat on the chair after the men left, too afraid to move in case they were watching her. Her body ached from the tension in her muscles, her cheek throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and her mouth was dryer than Sahara sand.

  Noises outside the door grabbed her attention and she jumped in her seat when the door suddenly opened, sure the last bells were tolling for her. But then she heard Kriminalkommissar Becker’s voice saying, “This woman is working for me as an informant. I will take over her interrogation.”

  Relief flooded her system but turned to shock when he walked into the room flanked by two of the Gestapo brutes who’d manhandled her earlier. His hard gaze swept over her, taking in her swollen face.

  “Frau Mahler, I’m sorry for the oversight of my colleagues,” he said, staring at the bruises forming on her cheeks. “They can sometimes be a bit too eager to perform their duty for the Reich. Although…it’s good to see you again.”

  Icy spiders crawled across her skin, making her hunch her shoulders. The man’s lame apology didn’t even come close to reaching his cold eyes.

  “So tell me, what information have you been able to uncover?” He took a seat across from her, never stopping piercing her with his evil glare.

  Sabine slowly shook her head, feeling her cheek throb and her hair start to come undone. One of her bobby pins had dislodged and she feared soon her hair – and her life – would come tumbling down. She blinked her eyes several times, realizing she had allowed her mind to escape. This was neither the place nor time for vanity and if she was to survive this interrogation, she had better keep her wits alert.

  She took too long to answer and Becker clapped his hands right in her face, causing her to jump in reaction. “Frau Mahler, I do not like being ignored.”

  “Herr…Herr Becker, I don’t have any names right now…I’m supposed to move a Jewish girl and will receive instructions tomorrow. They are very careful, but I’ll get more information then.”

  Becker shook his head, making a tsking sound. “I don’t believe you. I think you are holding out on me and trying to protect those who would see the Reich destroyed. It makes me sad, very sad.”

  Frantic spiders scrambled all over her skin. “No, Kriminalkommissar. I would never do that. In fact I spoke with Lily Kerber just this afternoon to discuss the next steps.”

  Becker pursed his lips in apparent deep thought for a moment and said, “I still don’t believe you. This is taking too long. I think you need a little more motivation.” He nodded at the two men keeping guard on either side of the door, who slipped through the door without a word.

  She took a measured breath, trying to still the nerves that were making her knees shake. A commotion in the hallway caused her to turn her head and gasp as Werner was dragged into the room by the two officers.

  She barely recognized him in his torn and filthy clothing and with bare feet. His sweet face was covered with bruises, encrusted with blood, and he looked a lot thinner than when she’d last seen him.

  “Werner!” Sabine surged to her feet, but before she could rush to his aid a hard grip on the shoulders slammed her back down on the chair. She turned her head slightly, and met the unyielding eyes of one of the agents who had detained her.

  “Sabine? You? What?” Werner said with a weak voice only to fall silent again as one of the officers slapped him across the face, yelling, “Quiet!”

  Becker nodded to the two Gestapo officers holding Werner up and they quickly handcuffed her husband on the far wall, his wrists manacled to the cuffs mounted on the cinder block wall, forcing his arms wide.

  Sabine swallowed a frightened gasp when they yanked what was left of his shirt from his body, revealing the red marks on the bare skin of his back. Shaking with fear and fury she turned to Kriminalkommissar Becker, who smiled at her, seemingly enjoying the spectacle.

  With her calmest possible voice she managed to say, “You promised my husband wouldn’t be hurt if I did what you wanted.”

  “As you can see for yourself, he’s still alive,” the evil bastard said.

  “But barely.” Sabine shook her head as tears stung her eyes.

  Becker shrugged. “He has proved to be a most difficult participant in our little game.”

  Game? This is a game to you? Sabine held back the angry response she wanted to give, knowing that Werner would pay for it.

  One of the officers who had hauled Werner into the room produced a many-stranded whip. Becker took great joy in caressing the whip when it was handed to him, almost like he would caress a woman. He slapped it lightly against his thigh walking back and forth in the small room. “Frau Mahler, do you know what this is?”

  For the life of her, Sabine couldn’t utter a word, her eyes riveted on the instrument of torture. Becker, though, didn’t seem to mind. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “This is a flogger. The Romans were especially skilled in its use and while I don’t claim to be as proficient as they were…I believe I have developed a steady hand and the ability to wield it without tiring for quite some time.”

  He slapped it against the floor in front of her, making her jump. “Tell me what I want to know, or your husband will pay the price. Give me a name. Just one.”

  Sabine’s eye’s widened as the horror of the situation sank into her brain. She shook her head, pleading with Becker, “I’ve only made the first contact today, with a priest, but I don’t have any other names…I need more time.”

  “The priest is just a messenger,” Becker said, giving her a cold nod, before he walked to the far wall and brought the flogger down on Werner’s back and red streaks appeared on bare skin.

  “Stop! Please…” Sabine screamed drowning out Werner’s pained groan.

  “Tell me what I want to know,” Becker demanded again.

  “I don’t have any names, yet. I will receive further instructions tomorrow. Please, stop hurting him,” she begged, close to tears.

  Becker didn’t respond. He shook his hand, the flogger making swishing sounds with the movement. The next moment, Becker’s face took on a very focused expression and he flogged Werner time and again.

  Sabine cried out and pleaded for him to stop, while hard hands kept her firmly in the chair. She was forced to watch rivulets of blood running down Werner’s back where the strands broke open the fragile skin, and she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

  After a dozen strikes, Becker stopped. He did a slow twirl to spear her with a masterful glare, sweat beading his brow. “Are you ready to tell me what I want
to know, or shall I continue?”

  “Don’t! I’ll do anything. Anything at all, but please stop hurting my husband.” Sabine didn’t care that she begged. Pride couldn’t live in the same universe with the Gestapo. “I don’t have a name right now, but I can get you one. I promise, just give me a few more days and I’ll get you the information you want. As soon as I find out where the girl is, I’ll give you a telephone call. I promise.”

  Kriminalkommissar Becker scrutinized her for a long moment and then nodded toward the agents watching. “Very well. Cut him down and take him away.”

  “But…Oh, please. Don’t hurt him anymore. I’ll get you the information you want.”

  “And when you do, you shall get your husband back.”

  Sabine watched how the agents dragged Werner from the room. He hadn’t said a word or screamed throughout the procedure, but his pained groans still filled her ears and chilled her soul. “Please don’t kill him. Please…”

  “Bring me the information I want and nothing will happen to your husband, but…” – an evil smirk appeared on his lips – “…don’t take too long .” He ordered the two agents to let her go, and disappeared.

  Several minutes later, Sabine found herself standing on the sidewalk in front of the Gestapo headquarters, alone, heartbroken, terrified, and knowing that if she didn’t come up with names real soon she’d be signing Werner’s death warrant.

  Back in the apartment, Sabine used the solitude to give in to the paralyzing fear for a moment. She sank down onto the threadbare couch, screaming her frustration into the fluffy pillow. Frau Klausen and Ursula might not be home, but the walls in this apartment had ears and eyes.

  She lay on the couch, wondering how on earth she’d gotten stuck right in the middle of this mess that her life had become, when all she’d wanted to do was stay out of trouble. Forced to work as an informer for the Gestapo. Not only would she betray the Klausens, but also the kind and warm-hearted Pfarrer Bernau, and who knew how many more people.