Part One: Killing Hitler

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Part One: Killing Hitler Page 4

by William Dean Hamilton

story. He said he wished he were the one to find the painting. He said something about how these things happen.”

  Martin said, “There is also a moral element about the thing. You see if you won the lottery, it would be cheating. But this man actually bought the painting fair and square. We would be doing the same thing, and even if it came out in the end how we got the painting, I think our uncle would forgive us.”

  Burt said, “What makes this painting so special?”

  Lindsey said, “There is a legend that it was painted by a werewolf.”

  Martin said, “What, I didn’t know that.”

  Lindsey said, “I looked it up,”

  Burt said, “That’s just weird.”

  Martin said, “It sure wasn’t because the painting was pretty,”

  Burt asked, “How did Hitler get involved in all of this?”

  Lindsey said, “He happened to be at a bar I was at.”

  Burt said, “So when you saw him, you killed him.”

  Lindsey blushed, “No, that’s not what happened.”

  Martin said, “I think you have to hear the whole thing for it to make sense.”

  Lindsey said, “I had this friend who works at a theater, and he agreed to get us costumes.”

  New York

  June 12th, 2015

  Theater

  Lindsey walked into the darkened theater. Being there when it was closed somehow reminded her of some old, scary movie. The rows of red seats were abandoned; the stage was filled with props that were hidden in shadow so that she couldn’t make out what any of it was. The air was dank with the smell of an old rotting building. Rotting, did I just think to myself this place was rotting; I am letting my imagination get to me. She noticed slivers of light darting out from a doorframe to the left of the stage. She knew that was where her friend Charlie would be. She walked to the door, her footsteps echoing in the darkness.

  Lindsey said, “Knock knock,” as she opened the door. The room was thirty feet long and the center of it held a rack its entire length filled with ancient robes, tuxedos, human-sized bird costumes, and anything else a person could wear. The walls held lamps, heads wearing wigs, axes, and other assorted props.

  An enormous man wearing a purple jumpsuit poked out from behind the rack and shouted in a high pitched voice, “Lindsey.”

  Lindsey shouted back, “Charlie,” and clapped her hands.

  Lindsey asked, “So what are you all dressed up for, some play?”

  Charlie looked down at his outfit and said, “No, I just felt adventurous today. I have a few outfits for you.”

  Lindsey said, “Oh, thank you.”

  Charlie grabbed a large bundle off of the counter, “I am a little confused when you said they had to be realistic up close though.”

  Lindsey grabbed the package, “Well, um,” and shifted from one foot to another, then an idea came to her, “Me and my brother are going to a murder mystery and want to look realistic for the time period it’s supposed to be.”

  Charlie smiled and said, “Oh, so will there be Nazis there.”

  Lindsey said, “I’m sure there will be, but I hope we don’t run into any.”

  Charlie laughed, “You shouldn't say that they would have to be the killers.”

  Lindsey said, “I guess you're right, but Nazis are too crazy for me.”

  Charlie said, “Yeah, but you know what they say, the crazier a person is, the better they are in bed.”

  Lindsey tried to hit Charlie on the shoulder, but couldn’t really do it because she was holding the bags, “No, get out.”

  Charlie said, “I swear I have only heard it second hand. At least that’s my tale, and I won’t say otherwise.”

  Lindsey wondered if that could be true. “Anyway, I have to get going, I will bring these back in no time.”

  Charlie said, “We don’t need them for a few months at the very least, the play we are putting on now seems to be doing well, so take your time.”

  Lindsey said. “See you later.”

  New York

  July 29th, 2015

  Later

  Library

  Burt said, “What was the point of that story?”

  Lindsey said, “Well, I wanted you to know that I heard the thing about crazy people more than once.” She waved the unlit cigarette that was in her hand as she talked.

  Burt asked, “What? Crazy people and sex?”

  Lindsey said, “It's important to the story.”

  Martin sighed.

  Burt looked at the two of them.

  “You can’t smoke that in here.”

  All of them looked over to see a heavy set woman standing at the end of the table glaring at them through green horn-rimmed glasses.

  Lindsey said, “It's not lit, I carry them around for the most part.”

  “You can’t smoke that in here.”

  Lindsey responded, “I know, I explained I wasn't smoking it, and I don’t plan to smoke in a library.”

  The woman said, “I don’t even think you should have it out.”

  Lindsey said, “What business is that of yours?”

  Burt said, “Where do you even find glasses like that, I thought they stopped selling them in the 60’s”

  The woman said, “I am the librarian, I think you should leave.”

  Lindsey got up and pointed at the woman, “You are the only person I wasn’t horrified to see eaten when the zombies overran New York.”

  The woman stepped back, her mouth open with shock

  Martin said, “I don’t think it was her.”

  Lindsey said, “How many people have bright green horn-rimmed glasses?”

  Martin stared at her for a second and tilted his head, “Maybe, but it was hard to tell with all that blood. I suppose it doesn’t hurt anything if you want to think it was her.”

  The woman yelled, “Out!”

  Burt said, “Quiet lady, this is a library.”

  The woman pointed at them, and then at the stairs leading down to the street.

  Burt whispered, “That’s much better.”

  The group went outside and the heat smacked them in the face as they exited the building. The humidity steamed up Martin’s glasses.

  Lindsey took a lighter out of her purse and she moved it towards the cigarette, but then said, “I can’t believe that lady. I mean really, we got kicked out of a library for not smoking.”

  Martin said, “And I didn’t even get to tell all of my story.”

  Burt asked, “Was I the only one who enjoyed that?”

  Martin and Lindsey shouted, “Yes.”

  Burt hunched his shoulders, “I liked your story, Lindsey.” He glanced up at her and a man stood next to her, blonde hair fell around his face and muscles bulged out of his shirt. “Oh great.”

  The man looked at Lindsey and asked, “Can I give you a light?”

  Lindsey said, “No, do I look like a retard who wants to get cancer or something? I just like to hold it.”

  The man gave her a tortured look and scuttled away. Burt laughed.

  Lindsay scowled at Burt, “Are you laughing at me?”

  Burt said, “No, it’s just that when I saw that guy, and what he looked like talking to you, I just thought…”

  Lindsay waited for a moment, “What did you think?”

  Burt blushed, “Never mind.”

  Lindsey threw the cigarette on the ground.

  Martin said, “I know what you’re thinking.”

  Burt said, “No.”

  Martin said, “I speak fluent German.”

  Burt said, “That wasn’t what I was thinking.”

  Lindsey said, “Me either.”

  Martin said, “But I know Burt was wondering how we were able to go to Germany and fit in to buy the painting.”

  Burt asked, “I was?”

  Martin said, “Of course you were. I mean not very many people could just go to Germany and be able to get around and buy a painting.”

  Burt thought for a mome
nt, “What about Lindsey?”

  Lindsey asked, “What about me?”

  Burt asked, “How did you get around.”

  Lindsey said, “The nuns who raised me were German.”

  Burt said, “That seems so strange.”

  Lindsey said, “The Mother Superior of the order was in Germany during the war and had hidden Jewish kids from the Nazis. She tried to go on living in Germany after the war, but the whole thing was traumatic for her. It wasn’t until 1965 that she was able to raise enough money to move to the United States. She was very old when they were raising me, but I think because of what happened she wanted to help me. It does seem kind of strange, I guess, but if you think about it, what she did made sense.”

  Martin wiped the steam off his glasses with his shirt and then put them back on. “We had to wait until our uncle was out of town before we could leave.”

  Burt said, “I know you want to tell your story, but we should find a place we can sit down and talk first.”

  Martin frowned, “OK.”

  Munich Germany

  March 10th, 1932

  University

  Heinz watched Smit place the long, white, thin worm into the tank which was filled with crickets.”So the horsehair worm will lay eggs, infect the crickets and take over their mind?”

  Smit said, “It will not completely take over, it will make the crickets seek water, when the cricket gets to a body of water it will break out of the cricket’s head and lay its eggs.”

  Heinz said, “I just don’t see how this could be used on humans.”

  Smit said, “The worm itself is of no use to us, but the idea of how it can manipulate minds, that could be very helpful on the battlefield. Imagine if you could not only neutralize the enemy, but mobilize their very own troops against them.”

  Heinz said, “It sounds like a mad scheme, it can’t end well.”

  Smit said, “Would they have given me all this equipment if it was only a scheme? The German Army has given a sizable grant to the university for this study. It is a way to get around some of the arms

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