Vienna Prelude (59 page)

“An American passport!” he snorted.

“I realize how little you like me, and I am prepared to pay you for your assistance in this . . . business arrangement.”

“You mean you want an American to marry you.” There was not even a hint of affection or romance in the proposition.

“Yes. And you are the only one who has offered. No strings attached. You said I could divorce you. And now I make you the same agreement.”

“That was then.”

“And now I need your help more than ever. For the sake of Jewish children, Herr Murphy—”

He wanted to take her by the arms and shake her, but he did not. He wanted to shout at her for suggesting such a thing without even a hint that they had spent one incredible day together. Her voice held no emotion, no memory of their kiss. She was offering a calculated business proposition. Marriage and a passport meant some extra element of safety for her and these children—wherever she was taking them. An American passport meant some access to the American embassies if the Gestapo turned the flamethrowers in her direction. For Elisa, it was plain to see, the offer was simply a method of protection. Suddenly, her sweet attentions six weeks before came clear to him. He had made her that stupid, blundering proposal in Sacher’s that night, and she had considered it carefully, strung him along until she found out that someone else was available.
Maybe a diplomat?
When that had fallen through, she had remembered Murphy again, and here they were.

His reserve became an icy glacier between them. He stared at her as though he held the utmost contempt for her words, and for her. “Yes,” he said at last, “ice water does run through your veins, Elisa.”

She stared him down. “You’re probably right. But what runs though yours? You know what I’m doing.” She tossed her head defiantly. “These two children are only two out of thousands. If Austria falls there will be thousands more. And then it will be Czechoslovakia, and then—” Her voice rose angrily.

“I’m the one who told you that!” he snapped. “That night in Sacher’s.”

“The night you proposed.”

“I offered to get you and your family out of here. To America.”

“Where I sit safely and wait to be divorced while these little ones—”

“I was hoping to help you.”

“Very noble. You still can. And I’ll pay you handsomely for your name, Herr Murphy.” She glared at him now. “No strings. Like you said. You can get an annulment. All I want is the passport and the safety it affords me. Nothing more is expected.”

“Been thinking about all this for quite a while, have you?”

“It was Leah’s idea, actually. She has a good mind for such details. I simply want to avoid prison if the very worst comes, as we think it might. I am not looking for an emotional commitment.”

“How much for my name?” A smile curled his lips. Murphy felt angry and mean. He hoped he could make this as difficult as possible for her after what she had done to him! The way she had used him!
What a chump I was!
he thought again.
To think she really was interested. I would have done handsprings on the railroad track
.

“Five thousand American. A year’s wages for you, I imagine.”

“Actually, I make seven thousand. And a year’s wages might make it worth my while to get hooked up—even temporarily—with such a coldhearted broad as you.”

The whistle shrieked and Murphy peered out onto the platform as Chancellor Schuschnigg, escorted by several Austrian military officers, strode toward the back of the train.
The Anschluss with Germany is coming! Elisa will need that passport—that American stamp by her name
.

“I’ll give you six thousand!” she snapped.

He turned his eyes back on her. “Seven,” he said again. “Not a penny less.”

“A thousand dollars will buy a visa for a child to get out of Germany. I won’t give you seven! You can manage with six.”

He wished now that she had mentioned the cost of the visas for the kids sooner. He wouldn’t have bargained so hard. “All right, then. Six.” He turned his gaze back on Schuschnigg and the government officials.

Elisa followed his gaze. “Isn’t that . . . ?”

“Schuschnigg.”

“Where is he going?”

“Berchtesgaden.”

“Berchtes . . .” The word faded away and a shudder coursed through her. The realization that he was going to visit Hitler strengthened her resolve. “Then we cannot wait, Herr Murphy. You’ll have to arrange the marriage immediately.” Again the tone was businesslike.

He rubbed a hand wearily over his head. A fresh headache was moving rapidly up the back of his neck until even his hair hurt. “Yeah. I know a guy at the embassy in Vienna. I’ll be back tomorrow night. We’ll get it squared away. I’ll bribe him or something. Rush it through.”

“We can pay for the bribe.”

“Sure. Expense account. Huh?” He almost smiled. If he hadn’t had such a headache, he might have laughed. “I’ll tell him you’re pregnant.”

She did not find his comment funny. “I think you can manage without that. There is no use humiliating me, no matter how repulsive you find this. Bear in mind that it is not pleasant for me, either.”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ll meet you day after tomorrow. Noon, in front of the American Embassy. Bring the money.”

“Six thousand. And the bribe?”

“A couple hundred should do it.” The train lurched into motion and Murphy felt sick to his stomach. He stood abruptly and went to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To another seat. Business is over, right?” He staggered out and spent the entire trip to Salzburg huddled miserably in the men’s room. He remembered the words of his mother and muttered
, “Be careful what you wish for, Murphy; you just might get her.”

***

Hours later, when the train disgorged its passengers onto the platform of Salzburg Bahnhof, Elisa watched as Murphy sauntered easily after the Schuschnigg party.

Across from her, the two little boys slept peacefully, and only when the train chugged away from the station did she switch off the compartment light and draw the shade, and there, in the darkness, she wept silently and deeply for the wedding that would be no marriage, and the groom who would never be a husband. How he hated her! How clear that had been in his eyes!

She was almost sorry now that she had ever listened to Leah. She had been doing fine with her Checoslovakian passport! Another trip to Germany. Two to Prague, and she had passed the customs checks without any of the difficulty she had experienced before!

She brushed the tears away as quickly as they brimmed over. It would not be good if the boys saw their new Aunt Elisa crying in the night. They had seen so many tears lately. She would spare them that if she could, and spare herself from the ridiculous thought that John Murphy had ever cared for her.

A business arrangement! Pay him and be done with it. That is probably what he had in mind when he offered his help six weeks before in Sacher’s! Of course! That must have been his motive. He knew that Theo had left his family well cared for.

She came at last to the conclusion that Murphy had simply never gotten around to mentioning that he wanted money for his help when he had first offered it.

Somehow that thought managed to dry up her tears like a dam and strengthen her resolve to go through with the plan. An American passport. What doors that would open for her!

***

By mid-February, Theo was the only one left alive of the eight men who had lit their candles in the Herrgottseck. As typhus raged through the already decimated ranks of the prisoners, Theo gave of himself, his hope, his light. Like the oil in the Eternal lamps on that first Hanukkah, he did not seem to lose the strength of his brightness. Although to look at him, the men and guards of Barrack 8 must have wondered how his fleshless frame bore the weight of his ragged uniform.

The final glimmer of eyesight left the professor, and the hand of Theo guided him through roll calls and days in the quarry. Theo saw for them both, worked for them both; he breathed for two men as though his blood flowed through the veins of the old man as well.

“What is it?” the professor asked one night. “What makes you will us both to live? I am an old man. God promises only three score and ten years. I have lived two years longer than my allotted time. It would not be so terrible, Jacob, if I—”

“I need your vision,” Theo answered.

“But I am blind.”

“You see better than most men.”

“What I see is not my own. Other men have written my visions.”

“Like Marlowe and his Faust? I had forgotten that we are all eternal. Good and evil men alike, we
are
immortal. This life is only a dream. Short, yet it decides the fate of our lives eternally. I had forgotten that until you reminded me.”

“Did the words of Faust frighten you?” The old man’s voice was gently probing, almost apologetic.

“No. It is not fear of hell that turns my heart from evil.” Theo smiled to himself as though he had discovered a secret. “We have been privileged to see what becomes of men who give themselves over to darkness. They are no longer men. They are the creatures; we are still men.” He reached out to touch the arm of the professor. “And yet, we all began exactly alike, like lumps of coal, maybe in different shapes and sizes. The fire and the pressure of hatred consume some men until they consume others around them in a white-hot fire. And others, trapped in the same fierce pressure and terrible heat, become diamonds to glisten in the hand of God. To shine bright when the blackness is all around, to find love when others are burning in their hatred. Isn’t that the essence of God?” He shook his head. “No. I do not fear hell. I am not afraid of evil. Black coal becomes ash.”

“This you learned from Faustus?”

Theo thought for a long time. He was not certain where he had learned what he now believed, and so he was not sure that he could answer the question. “A long time ago I gave up hope of ever seeing my Anna again. Or the children. And in that moment, I suppose I died to what I was.” He turned to the old man. “Yet when I let go even of life and put myself in the hands of God, I became free, Julius! And I said to God that in this darkness, I want to become a shining light. The men who have imprisoned me changed my name to Stern. Like your name.
Stern
means “star.” Do you think that the Gestapo knew how much I wanted to shine! There is nothing they can do to hurt me, Julius. Sooner or later every man faces death. They have not seen their own inevitable future yet. I
have
faced mine.” His eyes were bright in the gloom. “I know I will not walk out of here a free man. And yet when I leave, I will be free.”

The professor sighed with the contentment of a man who has eaten a delicious meal. “Meat and drink we have that they know not of, eh, Jacob? Two
Sterns
, together in our little corner. Lumps of coal squeezed until we think we cannot bear it.” He chuckled. “Only I do find myself wishing that God would relax His grip a while and open His hand to find us shining and flawless.” He sounded tired. “Yes. I do wish that it was accomplished, Jacob . . . His voice trailed off into sleep.

Theo drifted off after him, wondering if philosophers and theologians might not envy their classroom of suffering.

40

For Love or Money

Tonight the northern light cast an eerie red glow on the snows of Berchtesgaden. Austrian Chancellor Schuschnigg had been met at the frontier and forced to leave the men of his company behind in Austria. He was taken up to the hilltop fortress of the Führer by an escort of black-shirted SS officers. There he was ushered into a room crowded with Wehrmacht officers who had gathered to hear their Führer conduct the business of the Reich.

Thomas stood at attention with two other junior officers as Adolf Hitler walked past with his entourage. The German chancellor, now dressed in a brown military uniform, moved with an effeminate gait. Every few steps his left leg jerked a bit with a nervous tic. His eyes burned with fierce anger, and his lower lip protruded slightly. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared out the picture window toward the Untersburg where Charlemagne was buried. Thomas had heard the legend that King Charlemagne had vowed to return one day to rule Europe. He had also heard that Hitler said it was no accident that he had chosen his mountain retreat overlooking the burial place of Charlemagne. Absolute control! That was Hitler’s demand.

In the end, Hitler had determined that men might secretly question, but they would never again openly challenge as Blomberg and Fritsch had done. He would begin his demonstration of control tonight—here in the Alps overlooking Austria.

The room where Hitler sat with Schuschnigg was large. A fire roared in a fireplace. An oil painting of a nude woman hung above the mantel. She seemed to gaze down on Schuschnigg and Hitler with amusement. Thomas and a dozen others stood just out of sight of Schuschnigg, but they had full view of the Führer’s face as he spoke to the frightened leader of the little country he threatened.

Hitler leaned back in his club chair and said scornfully, “Your pitiful defenses along the border are nothing more to us than an annoyance. I need only to give an order, and overnight all the ridiculous scarecrows on the frontier will vanish. You don’t really believe you could hold me up even for half an hour?” He gave a short, bitter laugh.

Schuschnigg sat rigid in his chair. Thomas wished that he could see the Austrian Chancellor’s face. No doubt it was as pale as Thomas’ own face. This was not diplomacy; it was threat and force. Thomas was ashamed to be part of such a meeting, and yet he knew his presence had somehow been ordained. Certainly, if he ever again had the chance to speak to Anthony Eden, he would tell what he had seen and heard.

“Who knows?” Hitler continued. “Perhaps I shall appear suddenly overnight in Vienna, like a spring storm. Then you will really experience something. I would willingly spare the Austrians this; it would cost many victims. The troops will come first, then the S.A. and the Legion! No one will be able to hinder the vengeance—not even I. Do you want to turn Austria into another Spain? All this I would like to avoid.”