The Colonel's Wife

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Konrad rushed into the bedroom, locking the door behind him. “We have to leave, now!”

  Renata emerged from the bedchambers but he pushed past her, opening the safe. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

  “They know!”

  “What do you mean?”

  He twisted his head to look at her. “They know!”

  She turned ashen, collapsing onto the bed. “H-how?”

  “Does it matter?” He pulled all of the money he had been setting aside for such an occasion, and shoved it into a small bag he kept in the safe, along with several ounces of gold and silver, and some family jewelry inherited from his grandmother. “Pack a bag with just the essentials for two days. I’ll tell the boys to pack for a camping trip.”

  She didn’t budge, instead sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

  “Snap out of it!”

  She flinched then stared at him. “I’m fine. Go, get the boys ready.” She rose and sprang into action. He placed the bag of money on the bed as he tried to figure out what to do beyond getting out of the house. If Hoffman knew, they might be doomed. He would have called Graf’s office and notified him immediately to save his career, then would likely be about to arrest them himself.

  He paused at the door, fearing what might be on the other side. He drew his sidearm and readied it, then unlocked the door, his ear pressed against it.

  He heard nothing.

  He slowly opened the door, peering down the hallway, seeing no one. He went to Joachim’s room and opened the door, finding the poor boy sitting on his bed, reading. “We’re leaving in five minutes. Pack a bag for camping, then go help your brother. Understood?”

  Joachim scrambled from the bed. “Why? What’s going on?”

  He couldn’t tell him the truth. The boy was still recovering from the shock of learning about his sister and her condition. To tell him he was half-Jewish, and that people were coming to arrest them because of it, would be devastating.

  And right now, he needed the boy as cooperative as possible.

  “Your mother is in danger. We have to leave now or they’ll kill her.”

  Joachim’s eyes widened. “Who?”

  “Bad people.” Konrad pointed at the large chest at the foot of the boy’s bed containing his Hitler Youth gear. “Pack your backpack, now, then help your brother. Five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Konrad stepped back into the hall and gasped as he saw his bedroom door slowly close.

  Hoffman!

  He rushed back down the hall when his wife screamed.

  55 |

  En route to Konrad Residence Berlin, Nazi Germany

  Vogel floored the accelerator as he raced toward the Konrad residence. He was closer to their home than headquarters, but he wasn’t sure how much of a head start Stadler had. He had to beat him there, just in case the Konrads hadn’t left in time. Yet he still didn’t know why. What was he going to do? Officially, he had to arrest them all and report it. If they didn’t leave before he got there, he’d have no choice.

  They were dead whether he or Stadler arrived first.

  He punched the steering wheel. He hated his country. He hated what it had become. Did he love Jews? No. Nobody did, at least none that he knew. Yet did that mean they deserved to be treated the way they had been under National Socialism? He had heard the rumors, the reports of the camps, of the shootings, of the mass murders. He had dismissed them at first, yet there were so many stories told, at least some had to be true.

  Did Konrad deserve to die because he had fallen in love with, and married, a Jewish woman when it was legal to do so at the time? Did their children deserve to die simply because they had been born to a Jewish mother? Did she, because she was born to Jewish parents?

  The answer was obvious.

  No.

  But how could he prevent it? There was nothing he could do. He was powerless. If he interfered, he’d be shot. His wife and children could face the same fate as the Konrads, and if not, their lives would certainly be destroyed by his death or imprisonment.

  Yet he had to do something.

  They have to get out of the city. Out of the country.

  The country was huge now, for it was no longer a country. It was an empire. They couldn’t head east because that was where the Eastern Front was. They couldn’t head north to the coast, because it was too tightly controlled, and west was the same. They’d never get a boat to England.

  That left south.

  The Swiss border was impenetrable without the proper papers, and farther south to the Mediterranean or the Adriatic was equally unrealistic. Spain? It too was a ridiculous distance, especially for four people with no papers, with the entire nation’s security apparatus searching for them.

  There was nowhere for them to run to.

  “They need to be smuggled out.”

  His eyes widened as he careened around a corner, fists shaken at him by startled pedestrians.

  “Smuggled out. That’s exactly what they need.”

  And he knew exactly who could do it.

  For a price.

  It went against everything he stood for as a police officer, though as a man, a moral man, he could see no alternative. He had to get to the Konrads before they left.

  Otherwise he might never see them again.

  Alive.

  56 |

  Konrad Residence Berlin, Nazi Germany

  Konrad sprinted toward the door, shoving it open to find Hoffman advancing on the bedroom. He could hear his wife’s cries on the other side of the wall, her terror clear.

  “Captain!”

  Hoffman spun toward him, his weapon extended. Konrad raised his own and squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing.

  It was jammed.

  He sprung forward, grabbing Hoffman by the wrist and forcing the gun toward the ceiling, trying to break the man’s grip. Hoffman kneed him in the gut and he doubled over, gasping for breath, his grip broken.

  Hoffman pressed the gun against Konrad’s forehead. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy Jew-lover! Then I’m going to kill that Jewess of a wife, then your half-breed children!” He spat in Konrad’s face. “I can’t believe I served under a man like you. You make me sick.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  Hoffman’s chin rose slightly to the right as a sneer spread. “Yes, I do. As would any good, loyal German.” He dropped his gaze, staring directly into Konrad’s eyes. “Burn in hell, traitor.”

  A shot rang out and Konrad flinched, as did Hoffman, his eyes bulging before blood sputtered from his lips. He dropped to his knees, the gun pressed against Konrad’s forehead slipping down his face as the hand holding it went limp.

  Someone screamed.

  Konrad stared at Hoffman’s lifeless body, now in a heap on the floor, then at his wife standing in the doorway, his spare weapon in her hand, still aimed at his captain.

  And the scream continued.

  But it wasn’t from her.

  He turned to see Joachim standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, with Maximilian beside him, his mouth open, the high-pitched wail continuing.

  “Maximilian! Stop!”

  The little mouth snapped shut. Footfalls could be heard pounding up the stairs.

  They had little time.

  Konrad rushed forward and grabbed the gun from his wife’s hands, pushing her into the bedroom and beckoning his children to follow. He slammed the door shut as the first of the guards arrived.

  “Sir, are you—”

  The man froze, his eyes bulging at the sight of the captain, dead, a pool of blood flowing on the area rug he had been standing upon.

  “He attacked my wife for some reason. Call the police and General Graf’s office. Tell them what has happened. I’m going to take my wife and children to the hospital.”

  Heels clicked. “Yes, sir!”

  He opened the inner door to the bedroom then immediate
ly closed it after entering. He held a finger to his lips. “Now, everyone remain calm. We’re going to go for a little drive, understood?”

  Maximilian’s eyes were still saucers, but he nodded.

  Joachim was staring at his mother. “You’re a Jew?”

  The disdain was obvious and heartbreaking.

  She nodded. “Yes. And so are you and your brother.” She reached out for him and he recoiled as if her hand were the head of a snake.

  “Don’t touch me, you filthy Jew!”

  Konrad smacked Joachim across the face. “Don’t you ever talk to your mother like that!”

  Joachim’s eyes welled with tears, never before having been hit by either of his parents. He said nothing.

  “Now, people are on their way here. We are all going to die if we don’t leave.” He jabbed a finger at Joachim. “And that includes you. Whether you like it or not, you are as Jewish as your mother in their eyes.”

  “I don’t want to be a Jew!”

  “You don’t have a choice. But tell me, now that you know you are, are you any different?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Konrad hauled him in front of the mirror. “Look at yourself. Are you any different? Is your nose bigger than yesterday? Is it crooked? Is your hair different? Your ears?” He shook him. “Well?”

  Joachim sobbed, tears racing down his cheeks. “No!”

  “But shouldn’t you look different? Isn’t that what all the hate tells us? That Jews look different? That you can spot a Jew easily? That if you see one you should report it?” He spun Joachim around to face him, and stared deep in his eyes. “Do you think I’m a good man?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Would a good man love your mother, and love you, if it were wrong?”

  “I-I guess not.”

  “Then realize that you are the same young man you were five minutes ago before you knew. Strong, intelligent, and a good person. Do you love your mother?”

  His head dropped. “Yes.”

  “Then hug her.”

  He rushed around Konrad and into Renata’s arms. “I’m sorry, Mother! I’m sorry!”

  Tires squealed outside and Konrad’s heart leaped into his throat. He rushed out onto the balcony and sighed with relief at the sight of Vogel climbing out. Vogel spotted him and beckoned them down with a wave of his arm.

  “One minute!” Konrad went back inside. “Let’s go. No time for bags.” He grabbed the bag of cash and valuables off the bed and herded everyone out of the bedroom and past the guards collected in the hallway. “We’re going to the hospital now.”

  “Yes, sir. Do you require an escort?”

  “No need. We’re not in any danger now.”

  They rushed down the stairs then outside.

  “Point your gun at me, Colonel.”

  Konrad stared at Vogel. “What?”

  “Just do it!” hissed the man.

  Konrad aimed his weapon at the detective.

  “Everyone in the car, quickly,” said Vogel, holding the rear door open. Renata and the children climbed in, then Vogel rounded the car, his hands up. He sat in the driver’s seat and started the car. Konrad took the passenger seat and pulled the door shut, and moments later they were off the property, mixed in with the light evening traffic.

  “What was that all about?”

  Vogel turned a corner. “I’ll explain later. Is everyone all right?”

  Konrad glanced back at the others. “As good as could be expected, I suppose.” He eyed Vogel. “Why are you helping us?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “Only if we’re caught.”

  Konrad frowned. “I assume you have a plan?”

  “That depends. Do you have money?”

  Konrad shook the bag. “Yes.”

  “A lot?”

  “Enough.”

  “Then yes, I have a plan.”

  “What?”

  “First things first. I want to know what happened last night. Everything.”

  57 |

  Konrad Residence Berlin, Nazi Germany

  Stadler skidded to a halt in front of the entrance to the Konrad residence. Guards were rushing around, and two directed weapons at him. He raised his hands.

  “I’m Kriminalassistent Stadler, Kriminalpolizei. Where is your commanding officer?”

  The weapons lowered as he produced his ID. “They’ve gone to the hospital. There was an incident.”

  “What happened?”

  The guard appeared puzzled. “You’re not here because of it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s been a shooting. A man is dead. You were called. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Stadler shook his head. “No, I’m here to arrest Colonel Konrad and his family.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “On what charge?”

  “The colonel for harboring Jews, and the rest of his family for being Jews.”

  Shocked looks were exchanged by everyone within earshot.

  “You said they went to the hospital. Why?”

  “Captain Hoffman attacked the colonel’s wife. The colonel shot him.”

  Stadler rushed up the steps. “Show me!”

  Moments later he was in the Konrads’ bedchambers, confirming Hoffman was indeed dead, shot in the back.

  Just like Griese.

  “You said the colonel shot Hoffman?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he was shot in the back. Why not the front?”

  The man shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, sir. I only heard the shot.”

  “You said they left. I assume in their car? I’ll need its—”

  “No, sir, someone else arrived and took them. In fact…”

  Stadler eyed the man. “In fact what? Out with it!”

  “Well, it was odd, sir. The colonel held a weapon on the man and forced him to take them.”

  Stadler tensed. “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know his name, sir, but I saw you come here with him earlier today.”

  Vogel!

  But why would he be here? He was supposed to be at home. “I need a phone.”

  “Yes, sir.” He was led to one and he called Vogel’s home. Sofia answered. “Can I speak to Wolfgang?”

  “He’s not here, Otto. He told me to tell you he was going to arrest the Konrads. Do you know what that means?”

  “I do. Thank you.” He hung up, not sure what to do. He had been certain Vogel knew the truth about the Konrads, yet if he did, why would he have been coming here to arrest them?

  It could be a ruse.

  He chewed his lip. It was a possibility, but if that were the case, why had Konrad held a gun on Vogel and forced him to drive them?

  Maybe Vogel didn’t know. Maybe he was innocent.

  Stadler’s eyes widened. Vogel was innocent, and had just been kidnapped by a murderer with nothing to lose.

  He picked up the phone.

  58 |

  Berlin, Nazi Germany

  “Perhaps I should explain.”

  All eyes turned to Renata in the back seat, and she pointed at the road ahead. “Please keep your eyes on the road, Detective, you’re driving my children.”

  Vogel complied, adjusting his mirror so he could make eye contact, no doubt to try and determine whether what she was about to say was the truth.

  “You know something about what happened?” he asked.

  “I do.” She sighed, closing her eyes, replaying the events of last night. “When the shot was fired and the glass shattered, I knew immediately by the sound of the weapon that it might be mine. Instead of joining the others as they were sent into the bomb shelter, I went upstairs and discovered the drawer to my vanity open. The gun was gone, the family photo with Frida was out, and Joachim’s dagger was on the floor. I screamed.”

  Konrad twisted in his seat. “That’s when I was about to pursue Corporal Griese. Instead, I ran upstairs to see
what was wrong.”

  “Exactly. After we agreed that Joachim must have shot at Griese, I told you about the corporal walking in on me while looking at my family’s Torah. It was foolish of me to have it out, especially with so many guests arriving, but I was feeling guilty for what was about to happen. I was Jewish, we were in a house confiscated from a Jewish family, and we were about to entertain a bunch of Nazis who were responsible for it. I just wanted to say a prayer and beg forgiveness.”

  Vogel glanced at her in the mirror. “Where is the Torah now?”

  “I burned it earlier today.”

  Her husband reached out and squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry I made you do that.”

  She smiled weakly. “It’s not your fault. You were right, it was too dangerous to have.”

  Vogel spun his hand, urging her on. “Then what happened.”

  Konrad continued. “I went outside, found my wife’s gun where Joachim had dropped it, then went to look for Griese and Joachim. I knew Joachim would be upset about remembering Frida, but I also knew Griese had found out my wife was Jewish. He had to be found.”

  “So, you went out to kill him?”

  Konrad sighed. “To be honest, I don’t know. Part of me wanted to kill him. The poor boy was dead already. General Graf thought he had just tried to assassinate one of the guests, so he would probably be executed. I feared he might try to save his life by telling our secret. I had to protect my wife and children. I didn’t care what happened to me, but I couldn’t let anything happen to them.”

  “So, you killed him?”

  Konrad shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You told me you found his body, though.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  The car slowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

  Konrad frowned. “Here’s the truth. All of it. I found Griese, but he was alive.”

  Vogel’s eyes shot wide. “He was alive? And you didn’t kill him?”

  Konrad shook his head. “No. I confronted him. He said he was looking for Joachim because my son had shot him. He said he wanted to bring him home. I showed him the gun, and he confirmed it was the one Joachim had used. There was a sound behind him. I moved to see who was there and he grabbed for the weapon. There was a struggle, the weapon went off, but I don’t think I hit him.”