If we have the time, he thought. If we have the time. If
we can hold off the Russians and withstand the cross-Channel invasion that everyone knew would happen soon,
if we can keep the firm grip on the rest
of
Europe
which we have held for the past five years. He looked down at the file folders once again. This man may be
of great use to us, to the S.S. and to the Reich. If he can
be brought under control, if he can be trained, if his
madness can be turned to our uses.
He heard a knock on his office door and he said, "Come." His voice was brusque and official. Corporal Hans Vogel entered, came to attention and snapped his right arm upward in the Nazi salute. Schlacht returned the salute and then asked, "Well?"
"Doctor von Weyrauch and Frau von Weyrauch have arrived,
Herr Colonel," his adjutant said. "They are waiting in the
outer office."
"Good," he responded, rising from behind his desk. "Show them in, and then send up some schnapps."
"
Jawohl
, Herr Colonel." Vogel turned about briskly and
closed the door behind him. Schlacht rose from behind
his
desk and walked around to stand in front of it. He leaned back against the desk and folded his arms somewhat imperiously, aware that such a stance would communicate authority and confidence. He had no desire to engage in any banter with his cousin, and hoped that an immediate communication of his power and his position would serve to
intimidate her into silence. It was her husband with whom he had to speak, after all. Her presence was little more than a
courtesy. Besides, he thought sarcastically, he recalled that during the abortive Hungarian revolution of the early twenties, she had declared that the Magyar Communist Bela
Kuhn was her hero. She should be grateful to her cousin for
affording her the opportunity at last to visit
Budapest
.
A few moments later the door of his office opened and
his adjutant ushered Louisa and her husband into the room. Schlacht smiled broadly and opened his arms as he walked toward them, saying, "Louisa! How good to see you! You are
as lovely as ever."
She eyed him warily and accepted without comment or responsiveness the kiss on the cheek which he gave her.
"Helmuth," she replied, a non-committal greeting, a mere acknowledgement of his presence.
"And Gottfried," Schlacht went on, turning to Weyrauch.
"It's been too long, don't you think?" He shook Weyrauch's
hand with affectionate vigor, smiling at him and slapping
him on the arm as if they were the oldest and best of
friends.
Weyrauch returned the smile weakly, nervously. His hand, he knew, was cold and clammy, and when he tried to speak, all he could emit was a nervous giggle.
Louisa watched her husband's shoulders start to hunch over with his customary, instinctive obsequiousness, and she made a soft sound which bespoke her disgust before saying, "All right, Helmuth, you sent your people to arrest us, and now we're here. What do you want from us? You should know enough about Gottfried to realize that he has nothing to do with the resistance, and..."
"Louisa, you wound me!" Schlacht said, grinning. "You aren't under arrest! Far from
it,
actually. You two are my
honored guests, and Gottfried here may be in a position to
be of great service to me personally and to the Reich as well." He paused. "And, as
I'm
sure you know, there is no resistance." His smile remained, but the humor and warmth which his eyes had been expressing vanished with a chilling immediacy as he spoke these last words. He seemed to be indicating that his statement was an axiom, with which one
could disagree only at the risk of great danger.
Louisa chose to ignore the implications of his sudden
change of expression.
"Indeed!" she replied haughtily. "Do you seriously believe that all Germans are as ignorant and spineless and wicked and..."
Schlacht forced a laugh as he took her by the arm and led her over to the large leather sofa which rested to the right of his desk, against the wall of his richly furnished office. "Ah, dear, sweet Louisa, you never change." He was suddenly once again the friendly, solicitous host. As he offered her a seat on the sofa and motioned Weyrauch forward to take a seat beside her, the door of his office opened once again and an S.S. private entered carrying a silver tray upon which stood three crystal glasses and a bottle. "Good," Schlacht said as the private placed the tray down
upon the desk and then, after saluting, left the room and
closed the door behind him.
"I'm
sure that you could both do
with a drink after your long flight."
"Well, no thank you, Helmuth," Weyrauch said, clearing his throat. "I don't think..."
Schlacht filled all three glasses, ignoring what
Weyrauch was saying, and handed a glass to each of them. He
took the third glass in hand and raised it up to make a toast. "The Führer," he said. He sipped the schnapps and watched out of the corner of his eye as Weyrauch did the
same. Louisa held her glass motionless, her eyes fixed with suspicion and obvious dislike upon of her cousin.
Weyrauch looked from his wife to her cousin and
commented to himself how similar they were in appearance. It
would have rankled Louisa to hear it, but she and Schlacht were Hitler's quintessential Aryans, with ice-white blond hair and crystalline blue eyes. Both were tall and slender, though Schlacht's slimness was muscular and Louisa's was somewhat wraithlike. Each had the same precisely chiseled nose and the same high, aristocratic cheekbones, the same flawless, almost translucent skin and the same long, delicate fingers.
They're almost like brother and sister
, Weyrauch thought. He took a moment to wonder if Louisa's passionate ethical intensity and Schlacht's fanatical devotion to the dream of a Nazi empire were two sides of the same coin, reflections of personalities which were immovable and single-minded, each in their own ways
idealistic and intolerant.
There is a difference, of course
, Weyrauch thought,
sipping once again from the glass of schnapps which he had not wanted but which was imparting a warm glow to his
stomach and serving to calm his nerves a bit.
The difference is that Helmuth kills and enslaves people
.
"Louisa," Schlacht smiled, "don't you like schnapps? I can have something else brought up for you..."
"All I want from you is an explanation, Helmuth," she said coldly. "And you can stop your pretense of friendship
and good cheer. You know exactly what I think of you, and
I know exactly what you think of me."
He laughed. "You misjudge me, my dear, you really do. You have always misjudged me."
"Have I!" she said, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
"Certainly," he replied. "But since you don't seem in a
particularly sociable mood, let me get right to the point.
First of
all,"
and he turned to Weyrauch, "let me apologize
for sending for you in such a, shall we say, preemptory
manner. Secrecy was a prime consideration. I hope I haven't
inconvenienced you."
"Oh, no, no, that's perfectly all right," Weyrauch said, giggling again.
"Oh, Gottfried!" Louisa muttered with disgust.
"Good, good," Schlacht said. "The thing is, I need your help, Gottfried. I need someone I can trust to keep his
mouth shutâ¦"
"You've found your man," Louisa commented glumly.
"...someone who can be relied upon to keep certain
things to himself. In addition, I need someone with medical
knowledge and some experience with psychology. I know that
you hold a medical degree, and I seem to recall that you did
some studies of the theories of the Jew Freud. Am I correct?"
"Yes, on both counts," Weyrauch replied. "But Freud's
theories are notâ¦wellâ¦"
"I know, I know," Schlacht said impatiently. "When fighting an insidious enemy, extreme protective measures have to be taken to guard against subversion. I know that Freud's books have been burned and his theories are anathema, but that doesn't mean that we, the elite, cannot familiarize ourselves with them or apply them where needed. The ideas of Einstein have been treated the same way, but that hasn't stopped our research into the possibility of
creating an offensive weapon deriving its power from nuclear
fission."
Louisa frowned. "What are you talking about?"
He sat down behind his desk and smiled at her. "I am
talking about state secrets, my dear, things about which very few people have been told. The point is the fact that Freud and Einstein are Jews does not in and of itself mean that their discoveries are without merit or use."
"And you are interested in the works of Freud?" Weyrauch
asked. "If so, Helmuth, there are probably many people who have a greater knowledge of his theories than I have."
"It should be easy to find them," Louisa muttered. "Most of them are in concentration camps."
"Ah, Louisa," Schlacht laughed amiably. "Always the wry
wit. No, I am not interested in exploring Freud's theories personally. I am interested inâ¦" He paused for a moment, as
if considering something. "Tell me, Gottfried, have you
had any experience with forensic medicine, autopsies and the
like?"
Weyrauch shrugged. "Standard medical school study, nothing more. Why do you ask?"
"Are you capable of determining the cause of death, when presented with a cadaver?"
"I suppose so, as long as there isn't anything exotic or mysterious involved. I am not a research chemist, you know."
"I know, I know," he mused, still thinking. Then he
stood up and said, "I want you to see something we have in the basement. Louisa, I suggest you stay here. What I have
to show Gottfried is not particularly pleasant."
"I have a strong stomach, Helmuth," she said. "I need one, to live in
Germany
."
He shrugged. "As you wish. Follow me." Schlacht led them from his office out into the hallway of the one-time palace of the Magyar nobility. As they walked along the marble corridor, Weyrauch looked up at the murals that had been
painted upon the high, vaulted ceilings and contrasted them
with the blank, empty walls. The square and rectangular variations of color indicated that at one time these walls had been hung with paintings, and that the paintings had been removed. He sighed, remembering what he had heard about Hermann G
M
ring's private art collection,
personal spoils from a despoiled continent.
At every corner and at every door they passed S.S.
guards, who snapped to attention and saluted Colonel Schlacht. He returned the salutes in an impatient, perfunctory manner. They turned at the end of the hallway
and descended a flight of long, wide stairs.
"Gottfried," Schlacht was saying, "I am going to show you
some human remains. I want you to try to determine the cause
of death."
"But surely you must have people at your disposal who
can answer that question to your satisfaction," Weyrauch
protested.
"You misunderstand me," Schlacht said. "I already know the cause of death. But I want you to see for yourself and
come to your own conclusions. You'll understand why soon
enough."
They proceeded down a long corridor and approached a large door which was flanked by S.S. guards. One reached behind him and pushed open the door and then joined his comrade in saluting Schlacht. The colonel walked past them,
followed by his cousin and her husband. Weyrauch was visibly
unnerved by the presence of so many armed men, and even
Louisa was increasingly ill at ease. In their little town of
Kappelburg
, the armed might of Hitler's minions had not been a constant presence, relegated instead to newsreels and the occasional parade. But there was no element of pretense or show in these S.S. troops. They were heavily armed and, as the Weyrauchs knew full well, quite willing, ready and able
to kill upon orders from their colonel.
Schlacht walked over to the rear wall of the large, empty, starkly white room which they had just entered as Weyrauch looked around and decided that this must at one
time have been a kitchen. Against the wall stood a number of
very large freezer cases, and as Schlacht placed his hand upon the door handle of one case he turned to his cousin. "Last chance, Louisa," Schlacht warned her. "This isn't a
pretty sight."
"I can avert my eyes if I want to, Helmuth," she replied
laconically.
"I think you may want to," he said as he pulled open the
door. She averted her eyes almost immediately. Her husband
would have done the same, but for the fact that he knew that
Schlacht expected him to examine the contents of the freezers. Weyrauch did not think it would be wise to
disappoint him.