Every Man Dies Alone (60 page)

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Authors: Hans Fallada

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Every Man Dies Alone
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A volley of two or three slaps hit her all at once.

“My mother is no traitorous bitch like you! If you dare refer to my mother again, I’ll hit you properly! Where did the slut live?”

“I don’t know! My husband told me she had gotten married since. She will have moved away somewhere.”

“So your husband saw her! When was that?”

“I can’t remember! It was when we were writing the cards.”

“And she was involved? She helped you?”

“No! No!” cried Frau Quangel. With terror she saw what she had done. “My husband,” she hurriedly went on, “bumped into Trudel on the street. That was when she told him she had gotten married and wasn’t working in the factory anymore.”

“Well—go on. What factory did she go to then?”

Frau Quangel named the uniform factory.

“And then?”

“That’s all. That’s everything I know about her. Really, Inspector!”

“Doesn’t it seem odd to you that your son’s so-called fiancée hasn’t come to see her in-laws once more, not even after the death of her intended?”

“But that was what my husband is like! We never had dealings with other people, and once we began with the cards, he broke off relations with everyone.”

“You’re lying again! You only took up with the Heffkes after you’d begun writing the cards!”

“Yes, that’s true! I’d forgotten that. But Otto wasn’t at all happy about that; he made an exception because Ulrich was my brother. Still, he hated family!” She looked sadly at the inspector. Shyly, she said, “Can I ask you something now, Inspector?”

“Ask away!” growled Inspector Laub.

“Is it true…” She broke off. “I thought I saw my sister-in-law in the corridor yesterday…Is it true that the Heffkes are under arrest as well?”

“You’re lying again!” A slap, hard. And another. “Frau Heffke’s somewhere else. You couldn’t have seen her. Someone told you. Who could have told you?”

Frau Quangel shook her head. “No, no one told me. I saw her from a distance. I wasn’t even sure it was her.” She sighed. “And now the Heffkes are in prison as well, and they didn’t do anything and didn’t know anything. Poor people!”

“Poor people!” mocked Inspector Laub. “Didn’t know anything! That’s what you all say! But you’re all criminals, and as true as my name is Laub, I’ll have you disemboweled if you don’t tell me the truth! Who’s in your cell with you?”

“I don’t know her full name. I call her Berta.”

“How long has Berta been your cell mate?”

“Since last night.”

“Well, then she told you about the Heffkes. Just admit it, Frau Quangel, otherwise I’ll have her brought up, and in your presence I’ll keep on hitting her till she confesses.”

Anna Quangel shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter if I say yes or no, Inspector,” she said, “you were going to bring Berta upstairs anyway, and hit her. All I can say is that I saw Frau Heffke in the corridor yesterday…”

Inspector Laub looked at her with a sardonic grin. Abruptly he screamed, “You’re all shit! Shit the lot of you! I won’t rest until all you shits are in the ground! I’ve got to deal with you all! Orderly, bring Berta Kuppke upstairs!”

He spent the next hour beating and intimidating both women, even though Frau Kuppke admitted straight off that she had told Frau Quangel about Frau Heffke, with whom she had previously shared a cell. But that wouldn’t do for Inspector Laub. He wanted to know every word that had passed between them, when all they had done was complain. He, though, sensed conspiracy and betrayal everywhere, and went on hitting and questioning them for a long time.

In the end, a crying Frau Kuppke was carted back downstairs, and Anna Quangel was once again the sole beneficiary of Inspector Laub’s attentions. She was so tired now that his voice seemed to come from far away, his figure swam before her eyes, and his blows no longer mattered.

“So what happened to make your son’s so-called fiancée stop coming to see you?”

“Nothing happened. My husband didn’t want visitors.”

“But you admitted he had no problem with the Heffkes.”

“The Heffkes were an exception, because of Ulrich being my brother.”

“Then why did Trudel stop coming to the house?”

“Because my husband didn’t want her to.”

“When did he tell her?”

“I don’t know! Inspector, I can’t go on anymore. Couldn’t you let me rest for half an hour? A quarter of an hour?”

“Not until you’ve told me what I want to know. When did your husband tell the girl to stop coming to see you?”

“When my son died.”

“Well then! And where did he tell her?”

“In our apartment.”

“And what did he give as a reason?”

“Because he didn’t want to see any more people. Inspector, please, I can’t go on. Ten minutes!”

“Okay. We’ll have a break in ten minutes. What did your husband give as a reason for Trudel to stop coming?”

“Because he didn’t want to see anyone. We were about to begin with the postcards.”

“So the reason he gave was that he wanted to do the postcards?”

“No, he didn’t mention that to a soul.”

“So what reason did he give?”

“That he didn’t want to see anyone. Oh, Inspector!”

“If you tell me the real reason, we’ll stop for today!”

“But that is the real reason!”

“No, it’s not! I can see you’re lying! If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll question you for the next ten hours. What did he say? Tell me the words he said to Trudel Baumann.”

“I can’t remember. He was so furious.”

“Why was he so furious?”

“Because I let Trudel Baumann spend the night in our flat.”

“But he didn’t ban her till the next day—or did he send her away immediately?”

“No, the following morning.”

“He banned her that morning?”

“Yes.”

“What made him so furious?”

Anna Quangel sighed. “I’ll tell you, Inspector. It’s not going to hurt anyone anymore. I had secretly hidden an old Jewish woman in our flat—Frau Rosenthal, who later jumped out of the window. That’s what made him so furious, and he threw Trudel out at the same time.”

“What was Frau Rosenthal doing, hiding in your apartment?”

“She was afraid, all alone in her apartment. She lived upstairs from us. They took away her husband, and she got scared. Inspector, you promised you would let me…”

“In a minute. In a minute. So Trudel knew you were keeping a Jew hidden in your apartment?”

“But that’s not against the law…”

“Of course it’s against the law! A self-respecting Aryan doesn’t take in a Jewish bitch, and a law-abiding girl would report something like that to the police. What did Trudel have to say about you keeping a Jewess in your flat?”

“Inspector, I’m not going to say anything anymore. You twist every word I say. Trudel didn’t break the law; she didn’t know about anything!”

“But she knew you were giving refuge to Jews in your apartment!”

“That wasn’t a bad thing!”

“We think differently. I’ll have a word with Trudel tomorrow.”

“Oh my God, what have I done now!” Frau Quangel cried out. “Now I’ve plunged Trudel into misfortune as well. Inspector, you mustn’t do anything to hurt Trudel, she’s expecting!”

“Oh, really, so you know that, after not seeing her for two years! How did you come to know that?”

“But I told you, Inspector, it was when my husband saw her in the street.”

“When was that?”

“That will have been a few weeks ago. Inspector, you promised I could have a break. Just a short break, please. I really can’t go on.”

“Just a bit more! We’re almost there. Who started talking, Trudel or your husband, considering there was bad blood between them?”

“There wasn’t any bad blood between them, Inspector.”

“Well, your husband told her never to show her face again!”

“Trudel didn’t mind about that. She knows what my husband’s like!”

“Where did they bump into each other?”

“I think it was in Kleine Alexanderstrasse.”

“What was your husband doing in Kleine Alexanderstrasse? You told me he just went to work and back.”

“That’s right.”

“So what was he doing in Kleine Alexanderstrasse then? Probably dropping off a postcard, ha, Frau Quangel?”

“No, no!” she cried out, and went pale with fear.

“It was always me that dropped the postcards! Always me on my own, never him!”

“I wonder why you turned so pale just now, Frau Quangel?”

“I didn’t turn pale. Well, if I did, it was because I felt faint. You said we were going to have a break, Inspector!”

“Soon, as soon as we’ve straightened this out. Well now, your husband is dropping a postcard, and he runs into Trudel Baumann? So what did she have to say about the cards?”

“She didn’t know about them!”

“Did your husband still have the card on him when he ran into Trudel, or had he already dropped it off?”

“He had already dropped it off.”

“There, you see, Frau Quangel, we’re slowly getting there. Now I just need to hear from you what Trudel Baumann had to say about the card, and we’re through for today.”

“But she can’t have said anything, because he had already dropped the card.”

“Think about it, now! I can see from your face that you’re lying. If you stick to your story, we’ll still be here tomorrow morning. Why are you so set on needlessly tormenting yourself? I’ll put it to Trudel directly tomorrow, that she knew about the postcards, and she’ll admit it right away. So why make trouble for yourself, Frau Quangel? I imagine you’ll be relieved to be able to crawl off to your cell. So, how about it then, Frau Quangel? What did Trudel Baumann say about the postcards?”

“No! No! No!” screamed Frau Quangel, jumping to her feet in desperation. “I’m not going to say another word! I’m not giving anyone away! I don’t care what you say, you can kill me if you like, I’m not saying any more!”

“Sit down,” said Inspector Laub, and struck the despairing woman a couple of times. “I’ll tell you when you’re allowed to stand. And I’ll tell you when the interrogation’s over, too. Now let’s get to the end of Trudel Baumann’s role in all this. Following your confession that she perpetrated high treason…”

“I did not confess that!” cried the tormented, desperate woman.

“You said you didn’t want to give Trudel away,” said the Inspector evenly. “And now I’m not going to rest until I hear from you what there is to be given away.”

“Never, I will never tell you that!”

“Very well! But understand, Frau Quangel, that you’re being stupid. You should bear in mind that it will take me about five minutes
to get what I want to know from Trudel Baumann tomorrow morning. A pregnant woman like her can’t endure very much. Once I’ve slapped her round a bit…”

“You mustn’t hit Trudel! You mustn’t! Oh God, if only I hadn’t told you her name!”

“But you did! And you’ll make everything much easier for her if you admit everything! Well, how about it, Frau Quangel? What did Trudel say about the cards?”

And later: “I could get this out of Trudel herself, but I feel like hearing it from you. And now I won’t stop till I have! It’s time you learned you’re not worth shit to me. All your vows to stop talking are crap. All your talk of loyalty and not wanting to betray people is just hot air. You’re nothing, all right? Now, Frau Quangel, do you want to bet that within an hour I’ll have heard from your mouth all that Trudel had to do with the postcards?! Bet?”

“No! No! Never.”

But of course Inspector Laub heard it, and it didn’t even take an hour.

Chapter 52

THE DOWNCAST HERGESELLS

The Hergesells were taking their first walk together since Trudel’s miscarriage. They followed the road out to Grunheide, then turned left down Frankenweg and followed the shore of Flakensee toward the lock at Woltersdorf.

They walked very slowly, and every so often Karl shot a look at Trudel, walking beside him with downcast eyes.

“Isn’t it nice in the woods?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, “it’s nice.”

A little later he exclaimed, “Look at the swans on the lake!”

“Yes,” she answered, “the swans…” And that was all. “Trudel,” he asked in concern, “why won’t you talk? Have you lost all feeling for everything?”

“I keep thinking of our dead baby,” she whispered.

“Oh, Trudel,” he said. “We’ll have lots of children yet!”

She shook her head. “I’m never going to have a child now.” He asked anxiously, “Did the doctor say something to you?”

“No, he didn’t. But I can feel it.”

“No,” he said. “You mustn’t think like that, Trudel. We’re young, we can have plenty of children.”

Again she shook her head. “I sometimes think that was my punishment.”

“Your punishment! What for, Trudel? What have we done, that we deserve to be punished like that? No, it was just an accident, an awful, random accident!”

“It wasn’t an accident, it was punishment,” she said obstinately. “We weren’t meant to have a baby. I keep having to think what would have happened to Klaus if he’d lived. Hitler Youth or SA or SS…”

“Goodness, Trudel!” he exclaimed, startled by the pessimistic thoughts that tormented his wife, “if our baby Klaus had lived, all this Hitler stuff would have been over. It can’t last much longer, trust me!”

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