“You mean you’ll consider it?”
He shook his head. “No, I agree we need a plan. I mean I’ll give serious thought as to what exactly that plan should be. We’ll need forged identity papers, travel permits, clothing, supplies, money. Everything set aside for when we pull the trigger on our leaving.”
“Where would we go? You said your sister’s place?”
He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “Forget that. I was hasty with that idea, which is why you are correct. We need a proper plan. Everything depends on how much time we’d have. If I knew something was coming, I might be able to get us out of here a couple of days ahead of it, and that might be all we need, but I think we need to plan better.” He regarded her, his chest aching with the idea. “I think you and the boys should go stay with my sister.”
“But you just said—”
“Not permanently. The four of us traveling together is difficult. A woman and her two children might not be as conspicuous. If I got you out of the city, then arranged for papers to get you to the south of France, we could get you into Spain.”
“What about Switzerland?”
“The border is too heavily guarded. We’d never get you near it. Spain, however, isn’t as well guarded. If I could get you there, then join you, we could cross, perhaps with the help of partisans.” He exhaled loudly. “It’s just so insane to think about. The distances are just too large. And…”
“And?”
“And none of it will work, regardless.”
“Why?”
“Joachim. As soon as he figured out what we were doing, he’d turn us in the first chance he had.”
“What if he knew the entire truth?”
Konrad grunted. “He’d turn us in today.”
Renata frowned. “You’re right, of course. I love my son, but he’s become a monster.”
“His entire generation has.”
“Our generation isn’t much better.”
“Our generation has been led astray by charisma and fear. In time, that will pass.”
“Spoken by an SS colonel.”
The words stung and she immediately sensed the hurt she had caused. “I’m sorry, dear, I meant it in jest.”
He nodded. “I know, but…well, you know if I could change things, I would. But I had no choice. When you’re approached by the SS and asked to join, you simply can’t say no, not when you’re in the Wehrmacht. If I had been civilian, perhaps I could have made excuses, but not as an officer in the Army.”
She rose and walked over to him, kneeling at his feet. “I know, my love. You’re too good a man to be part of this group of fanatics.”
There was a knock at the outer door that had them both flinching. Renata rose and headed for her vanity while he answered the door.
It was Hoffman.
A smiling Hoffman waving two file folders. “I have the proof, sir!”
Relief swept through Konrad’s body as he took the files, leafing through them, feigning ignorance. “So, there were two identified as Griese.”
“Yes. One identified by fingerprints, the other by identity papers.”
“And does Central Records have an explanation?”
“Not yet, though they are investigating.”
“But they obviously agree that this one, the one with the fingerprints, is the correct Griese?”
“They have conceded that fact, yes, sir.”
“Good. Then I will take this to the general. He will be very pleased to hear Corporal Griese has been found, and the Reich has been saved the expense of an execution.” He smacked Hoffman’s chest with the files. “Excellent work, Captain.”
Hoffman swelled with pride. “Thank you, sir.”
Konrad handed the files back. “Take these to my office. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Hoffman’s heels clicked and he took the files before marching off, a spring in his step. Konrad returned to the bedchambers. “We have the proof we need. I’m going to go see the general now.”
“Thank, God.”
46 |
Konrad Residence Berlin, Nazi Germany
Hoffman inspected himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his office door. With his commanding officer about to make an appearance, he wanted to be certain he was in perfect order after his outing. While the black uniforms of the SS were stunning, they were also unforgiving.
He brushed a speck of dust from his shoulder then stepped back to his desk, straightening the two file folders yet again. He let his eye roam the office, looking for anything out of place, anything crooked, anything that might reflect poorly on him, and by extension his CO and the SS, and, as expected, found nothing.
Everything was perfect, as it should be, his obsessive fastidiousness paying off.
Two raps on the door were followed immediately by its opening, Konrad stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. And none should have been expected. This was his house, and he was the commander.
Hoffman turned and snapped to attention. “Colonel.”
“You have those files?”
Hoffman bowed slightly and clicked his heels before retrieving the two from the desk. He handed them to Konrad.
“I’m of two minds on these.”
“Sir?”
“Do I inform General Graf that Griese is dead, and present the file we know to be true, and leave it at that? Or do I inform him of the second file as well, introducing confusion into the situation.”
“I would think complete honesty would normally be best, especially with a man such as the general. Should he catch wind of any attempt at deception, it could prove…unfortunate.”
Konrad grunted. “That’s putting it mildly.” He shook the files. “Yet one is obviously not Griese, therefore is merely a clerical error. I assume Central Records agrees?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then do I waste the general’s valuable time on a clerical error? His concern is merely the whereabouts of Griese, whom we know is on a slab in the morgue.”
“Yes, sir, I suppose so, sir.”
Konrad eyed him. “You think I should inform the general of the entire situation.”
Hoffman chose his words carefully. He respected the colonel immensely, and was honored every day to serve such a man. He considered him honest, loyal to the Reich, and a man who could be trusted to do what was best for everyone. Including his family. And his men. And that made everything he knew such a difficult burden to bear. It was clear Konrad had been struggling over the past 24 hours. The dinner party had been a disaster of biblical proportions, his son had gone missing, his wife was in a state, one of his staff was accused of an assassination attempt, and had now turned up dead in mysterious circumstances. Police had visited twice, and things were only going to get more difficult.
Konrad needed a confidante he could trust.
And that was him.
Yet how could he let him know?
“Well, not the entire situation, sir.”
Konrad’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“I mean, share only what the general could find out on his own. Nothing more.”
Konrad’s head slowly bobbed then he held up the files. “Share the files, and nothing more. They tell everything officially known.”
“Exactly.”
Konrad sighed. “You’re right, of course, Captain.” He smacked him on the shoulder. “I always value your counsel. You’re a good man.”
Pride surged through Hoffman at the praise heaped upon him by this honorable man. “You honor me with your words, Colonel.”
Konrad turned to leave then stopped. “Oh, one other thing. My wife found remnants of a uniform in the drawing room fireplace. Look into it, would you? I want to know who’s burning uniforms rather than having them repaired.”
Hoffman cleared his throat. “Umm, that was me, sir.”
“You?”
“Yes, sir. I, umm, burned your uniform from last night.”
Konra
d’s eyes widened slightly, and Hoffman was certain he had paled. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Hoffman had to tread carefully. “I feared…that the wrong people might begin to ask how it got soiled in the first place.”
Konrad was definitely pale now. “Whatever do you mean?”
Hoffman thrust his chest out, squaring his shoulders. “I would prefer not to say.”
“You’ll tell me this instant!”
Hoffman’s head fell. “I’m ashamed to speak of it.”
Konrad relaxed slightly. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Captain. The air needs to be cleared between us if you are to be my trusted man.”
Hoffman nodded. “Very well, sir.” He looked at his commander. “Sir, I’m ashamed to admit that I followed you last night.”
Konrad stepped back, his hand reaching behind him for something to steady himself. “You…you did what?”
“When you left here to look for Joachim and Corporal Griese, I followed you.”
Konrad sat and Hoffman did the same, not wanting to be staring down at his commanding officer in his vulnerable state. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“I was concerned for your safety, sir. Corporal Griese had just tried to kill someone at your party, an air raid had just begun, and with the state of things, I knew looters might be up to no good.”
“Wh-what did you see?”
Hoffman stared at the floor. “I’m not sure.”
“Captain.”
He looked up, squaring his shoulders. “Very well, sir. I saw you confront Corporal Griese, then struggle for a weapon. It went off, then there were two more shots, one of which killed Griese. You dragged the body into an alleyway, then returned home.”
“And that’s all you saw?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And you kept this to yourself. Why?”
“You’re my commanding officer, sir, and you did nothing wrong. Griese resisted, he was killed.”
“Yet I didn’t report the fact.”
Hoffman glanced at the mirror. “I think we both know why, sir.”
Konrad gripped the arms of his seat. “We do?”
“Yes, sir. We both know you didn’t kill him.”
47 |
SS Reich Main Security Office Niederkirchner Straße, Berlin, Nazi Germany
“Cutting it close, Colonel.”
Konrad nodded at General Graf. “Yes, sir. As you can see, there’s been confusion at Central Records with one body being misidentified as Corporal Griese. That’s why there was a delay in the notification.”
Graf poured over the two files with more interest than Konrad had been hoping. The past hour had been a series of shocks, not the latest being Hoffman’s revelation that he had seen the murder. The man was loyal, to a fault, and for now that loyalty was working for his family, but it could turn at any time.
It meant they had to begin planning their escape in earnest.
“It says here that your corporal was reported murdered by the coroner’s office?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the other one was found dead from last night’s air raid, with your corporal’s identity papers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have an explanation for this?”
He tensed. “I do not, sir. My aide visited Central Records personally, and they indicated they are working under the assumption it was a clerical error. They have launched an investigation.”
“I should hope so. Perhaps the SS should take over and straighten things out over there.”
“A capital idea, sir.”
Graf grunted, pushed the files back toward him, then stared at him, causing Konrad’s heart to pound. “So, who killed your corporal?”
Konrad’s cheeks burned. “Sir?”
“According to the file he was found on Strausberger Street. That’s nowhere near the bombings. How did he die? Who killed him?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Shouldn’t a good commanding officer know how one of his men died?”
Konrad gulped. “Of course, sir. I’ve already spoken to the investigators from the Kripo, and they will be keeping me informed.”
“Do they have any theories?”
“None they have made me aware of.”
Graf grabbed his phone. “Very well. Keep me informed.”
“Yes, sir.” Konrad turned to leave and had made it all the way to the door when Graf stopped him.
“And what of your son?”
“He was found and returned home safely, sir.”
“Good. Get your house in order, Colonel. You won’t be given a second chance.”
“Yes, sir.”
Konrad left, and it wasn’t until he reached his car and the relative privacy it granted him, that his entire body shook.
“Are you all right, sir?”
He glanced at his driver. “Yes. Just a chill, probably from being out last night looking for Joachim. I’ll be fine.”
“Where to?”
“Home.”
“Yes, sir.”
They pulled away from the imposing structure that housed the SS’s top brass, and as soon as it was out of his sight, he felt slightly better. The meeting had gone as well as could be expected. Graf was off his back, though there would be no more chances. They had to leave the country, yet he had no idea how that could be possible with Joachim.
The boy was as devout a Nazi as Himmler.
What had him more concerned at the moment, was what to do with Hoffman. The fact was, there was nothing he could do with Hoffman. The man now had leverage over him. Leverage that would have been meaningless last night if he had simply told the truth immediately, but because he hadn’t, he was now stuck with the lies he had told.
All to protect his wife and son.
When he had been made aware of his wife’s discovery after the shooting, he had returned to the backyard and found the gun lying in the grass. He pocketed it to hide their involvement—if it had been found by Graf’s men, there would have been no explaining how such a gun, preferred by ladies, would have been used in an assassination attempt. Suspicion would have fallen on his family for certain.
With the gun secure, he ran in the direction he had seen Griese flee. The bombs were pounding the city in the distance, and few were on the streets, those that were merely stragglers heading for the shelters. It was dark, the moon providing little light, and he was forced to rely on his ears.
And with few about, the heavy footfalls of a running man were easy to pick out.
Why Griese was still so close, he wasn’t sure, though with his mind still piecing together the events of moments ago, he feared the corporal might be searching for Joachim.
For Joachim was the shooter, and Griese was the target.
Griese would be armed. If he found Joachim, he might kill the boy, or worse, bring him to the authorities as the shooter, and his son, in his current state of mind, might tell everything he knew.
It would be their end.
Griese had to be stopped, not only to protect Joachim, but to protect the entire family.
For Griese knew the truth.
He spotted a shadow dart across the street and took off in pursuit. He reached the crossroad and peered around the corner to find Griese standing in the middle of the road, looking in either direction. There was a loud crash behind him and he spun to see three men several houses down looting one of the more upscale homes in sight.
And rage filled his stomach.
Yet he had no time to deal with that.
Another set of footfalls echoed nearby, though he couldn’t make out where they were coming from, the rows of apartments making it difficult to pinpoint anything.
Yet Griese still stood frozen, as if debating what he should do.
He’s going to tell.
He crept toward him, almost reaching him when his foot slipped slightly on a patch of mud on the cobblestone.
Griese spun, his eyes bulging at the sigh
t of his commanding officer.
“Sir! What are you doing here?”
Konrad squared his shoulders. “I could ask you the same thing, Corporal.”
“I-I was looking for Joachim, sir.”
“Why?”
“He, umm, he shot me, sir.”
Konrad removed the weapon from his pocket. “With this?”
Griese’s eyes widened. “Yes!”
“And when you found my son, what were you intending to do?”
“Bring him home, of course.” Griese looked about. “Sir, he knows.”
“He knows what?”
“He knows.”
Konrad’s chest tightened as the implications of what Griese was implying confirmed his wife’s fears.
Griese knew their secret. Their terrible secret.
His finger slipped onto the trigger and he aimed it at Griese. “So, you know.”
Griese raised his hands slightly. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. You said to get your wife, and when she didn’t answer the door, I went in and found her at her table with it. I didn’t mean to! I swear!”
Konrad’s heart ached at the boy’s pleas. For he was a boy. Just three years ago, this young man would have been Joachim’s age. How much growing up did a boy do in those three short years? Was he that much different than his son? Had he done anything wrong? He had stumbled upon a secret. A deadly secret. It wasn’t a state secret that might demand imprisonment or death, it was a family secret.
Did this innocent man deserve to die for discovering it any more than they did for keeping it? If it was anyone’s fault, it was theirs. And how were circumstances of birth anyone’s fault? In a just society, they wouldn’t be, but in today’s Germany, they were. A society the furthest thing from just, dominated by paranoia and hate, with a lust for Aryan supremacy that wouldn’t end until the entire world was under the thumb of the hate that emanated from the Reichstag.
And now this young man, this boy, was about to pay the ultimate price for merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Because his wife had been careless.
He lowered the weapon slightly.
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