The Roses Underneath (38 page)

“I reported it to Farmer, of course, the director. He runs this show.”

“Well, who does he report it to?” Anna was impatient.

Cooper’s face slackened. “Frankfurt. Phillips. Shit.”

Anna nodded. “So why is Darmstadt asking why you didn’t report it if Frankfurt has the, what do you call it?”

“Jurisdiction. I have no idea. Listen, we have another problem. Darmstadt has called a hearing.”

Bender, who had been following the conversation like volleys in a tennis match, let out a loud whistle. “Uh oh,” he said.

“Now don’t worry. It will be fine. It’s just Anna and me, and a panel, asking questions about this case. They know something’s fishy too. I think it’s a good thing, if you ask me.” He shot a look at Bender.

“If you say so,” Bender said. He turned his attention to his clipboard and pretended not to listen. Anna and Cooper sat on their stools face to face, their knees almost intertwined.

“When is this hearing?” Anna asked, clearing her throat.

“Day after tomorrow. The Army will send a car for you. I guess if you had been at the Collecting Point they would have let you know.”

“I’m sure I won’t be at the Collecting Point anymore, not after today.” Anna felt remorse, only in that she would have to find another job, something more suitable to a wife and mother. Telephone operator. Sales clerk.
Doctor’s wife. But isn’t that what she wanted?

“Was it worth it? Taking the jeep? Did you find out anything more? You know you just need to tell them the truth at the hearing. You’ve done nothing wrong except not follow procedure. That, they can hang on me. I’ll take that hit. But you probably will lose your job.”

Anna nodded. “I just wish I could find the damn camera. I know you took a photo of the Runge painting in the basement. Without that photo, we have no proof that it was there.” She sighed. “And then there’s Oskar,” she added.

Cooper groaned. “What about Oskar?”

“He’s run away. Someone came to the camp to claim him and he ran away.”

Cooper smirked. “That little dickens. God, he’s a handful.” He looked at his watch.

“Don’t you worry at all about what will happen to him?”

Cooper sighed. Anna could tell Oskar’s future was not occupying a large space in Cooper’s mind. “Sure I do, but look, I gotta get back. I can only deal with one thing at a time,” he said. “The kid will be fine. Someone did come for him after all. He’ll turn up. It will all get straightened out.”

“But he ran away,” Anna said.

“He’ll be fine. He’s just a little skittish. Doesn’t have his bearings yet. He’ll get straightened out.” Cooper nodded to himself, moving on to a checklist running in his head. “You said Phillips was out of town, right? That buys us a day at least before he figures out that we know about his painting.”

“Do you think you’ll get your job back?” Anna asked before she could stop herself.

“Let’s not worry about that now. We’ll get you back to the camp first so you can face Frau what’s-her-name.”

“Obersdorfer. I am sure I’ve already been fired. I just need to get my bicycle. And tomorrow I’ll look for another job.”

“Look, let’s just get through the hearing and then we’ll see. Things may sort themselves out.”

“Yes, they may. But in the meantime I need to feed my daughter. And for that I need a job.”

Bender spoke up. “Okay, look, the way I figure it, the immediate problem we have is getting the lady back home and getting the jeep back to the Collecting Point. So, here’s what we do: I’ll give her a ride and drop the jeep off. Coop, you come get me from the Collecting Point. If anyone asks, I’ll make a stink about them screwing up their paperwork. After five minutes they won’t care anyway, as long as the vehicle is back. And I’ll bring the typing madam some ribbon and extra carbon paper. Tell her it was ordered special for her. That’ll make her happy, right?” He smiled. “I’ll say you were called away on last-minute translating business for Frankfurt. It couldn’t be helped.” He waved his arms around his head. “It was all a big screw up and such a mess. But you’ll be back in the morning. At least that’ll soften her up.”

Cooper leaned forward and slapped him on the back. “Bender, you are a king among men. Your talents are wasted in the supply store.”

Bender shook his head. “I’m much more dangerous this way. I told you I’d pay you back.”

Anna sat up. “I forgot about Miller.”

“What about him?”

“I found money at the villa. Three hundred dollars wrapped in newspaper and hidden in the wardrobe. I thought maybe it was there for me to find, so I could get myself in worse trouble, but then Miller showed up and he was angry. I know the money was for him. And he knows that I saw it there.”

“Miller is full of shit and everyone knows it,” Cooper said. “For him to tell that he saw you out there means he’d have to admit he was there too, which he had no business being. He’ll have figured that out by now. He’s just a stupid opportunist, thinks he can play all the angles, but, fortunately for us, he’s always one step behind everyone. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just here for the wrong reason.”

“What reason is that?” Anna asked.

“Himself,” Cooper replied. “Now, let’s get you home to your girl, and let’s get this jeep back. I want to hear more about Schenk and the travel papers. How much did you say he wanted?”

“Three hundred dollars.” Anna picked up her bag and stood. She felt heavy and was tired of talking.

“That seems to be the going rate for a lot of things today,” Cooper said. “Do you have that kind of money?”

“No, of course not,” Anna snapped. She looked into Cooper’s face. “Where would I get money like that?”

Cooper shrugged. “Sounds to me like you could have just had three hundred bucks pretty easily. It’s good to know you didn’t take the bait.”

“I would never.”

“I know that.” Cooper stood and offered a hand to help her off the stool. “Let’s get going.”

Anna dropped her bicycle on the ground outside the Schilling house and pushed the gate open. Cooper had left her at the Collecting Point gate and tried to reassure her that all would be fine. Still, she avoided confronting Frau Obersdorfer, deciding instead to ride up the Gustav-Freitag-Strasse and fetch Amalia, even though there was still more than an hour left in the workday. They could take the afternoon to tidy up the house and maybe go for a walk. Being with Amalia forced her to think about something else, even if it was just
The
Snow Queen
or what was for dinner.

She let herself into the cool foyer of the house. The door to Emil’s apartment stood open, the darkness of the long hallway receding inside like a tunnel that glowed with the light from the living room window at its end. Calling for him, she knocked on the door and waited for an answer. She called out again and stepped into the apartment, peeking first into the kitchen, then the bedroom and then following the hallway into the living room at the end. Everything was tidy and clean, his few belongings put away. Even the handful of books on the small shelf was perfectly lined up. As she turned to go, she paused again to listen for any sounds. Her eyes fell on a painting hanging by the door, hung very low in a spot much too small for its size. She blinked. The painting was a large landscape, with a forested plain, mountains, and impossibly blue sky. In the foreground were sheep painted in bright white that made them look like overgrown dandelions. A small figure of a shepherd sat hunkered in the shadows. The flat sky, the evenly weighted strokes—it was the same style and subject as the painting she had taken to the Nassauer Hof. She looked closely at the illegible signature, which looked to be the exact same scrawl as the one on her painting: all up-and-down strokes in heavy black paint. She lifted the painting and tilted it away from the wall with both hands. She wedged her head underneath and peered at the back. In the bottom left-hand corner, there was a small white label.
Gallerie Neustadt, Mainz
. The same artist and the same gallery. It seemed an impossible coincidence. Perhaps Emil could shed some light on the artist, and, more importantly, who owned the gallery. She made a note to remember to ask him as she stepped out into the foyer.

With one foot already on the stairs going up to Frieda’s apartment, she stopped. Voices rose from underneath the stairs, from behind the basement door. Raised, tense exclamations were followed by shouts, voices arguing back and forth, and then words stepping all over each other. Anna pulled open the heavy basement door and was struck by the moldy damp air that now always reminded her of bombing raids and nights spent underground. The inside was dark except for a weak circle of light seeping toward her from the right, where one of the storage stalls was illuminated.
Anna’s view was blocked by stacks of crates and furniture and the voices were quieter. She could not understand what was being said, or who was doing the talking. She walked in the direction of the light. “Hello?” she called out. “Frieda, is that you?”

“Mama?” Amalia’s voice flew through the air.

“Maus?” Anna stepped into the light as Frieda’s and Emil’s heads swung in her direction.

“Mama!” Amalia cried again. She was standing at the far end near the back wall. Frieda clamped a hand on the girl’s shoulder when she saw Anna.

“What is going on here?” Anna asked. “Come along, Maus. Let’s go home.” She held out a hand, but the girl didn’t move.

“Amalia?” Anna stepped forward but she saw that Frieda held the girl back. “Frieda? Let her go.” Anna grabbed the girl’s hand and then saw the gun that Emil held in an unsteady hand. He pointed it at her and she gasped. “Emil, what’s…what
are you doing?”

Emil’s face was slack and his eyes floated, unfocused. He licked his lips and blinked slowly. “I’m just trying to help,” he said. “I’m not a bad guy.” He waved the gun in an argumentative gesture. “Really, I–”

“Emil! Oh my God, are you drunk?”

“Of course he’s drunk,” Frieda hissed, still holding Amalia with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“You let her go,” Emil mumbled. “Her mother’s here, so now you let Amalia go, Frieda. Did you her me? Her
mother
is here.”

Anna gave a cautious smile to reassure Emil. “Yes, let her go Frieda.” But Frieda and Amalia didn’t move. Anna looked at her daughter and saw the fear on her face.

“Let her go, dammit,” Anna shouted, the panic rising now. “Have you all gone crazy?”

Emil snorted. “I’m just drunk. It’s Frieda who’s gone crazy. Why don’t you give Anna a tour of the little playroom you have down here? I don’t think she’s seen it yet. I only found it myself last week. Really, go on,” he laughed.

Anna scanned the small space for the first time. Between the old boxes and dirty trunks lay a stack of old newspapers. She squinted and saw they were all copies of the
Voelkischer Beobachter
, the vile racist newspaper that was the staple of the Nazi diet. On top, scattered every which way, lay small toy soldiers in the uniform of the SA, giving little Hitler salutes and carrying tiny banners. They had been the staple of every good German boy’s toy box. A doll wore a red dress like the one on the doll Frieda had given Amalia. Only this one’s dress clearly showed part of the white circle and black swastika of the fabric’s original purpose as a Nazi flag. Next to Emil stood a large trunk, its lid open, spilling over with uniforms and other pieces of clothing, their familiar insignia giving them away. Anna wanted only to run. She held out her hand for her daughter. “We are leaving.”

“No, wait, you don’t understand,” Emil slurred. “Don’t you know who my sister was? What she did for the glory of the Reich?”

Anna stood rooted to her spot, silent.

“She told you she was a
Schwester
, a nurse, didn’t she? But it’s not what you think. She wasn’t any nurse. She was a
sister
. In the Lebensborn. Do you know what that is ?”

“Yes, of course,” Anna said. “Who cares about that now? So what?” She reached her hand toward Amalia but Frieda wrapped an arm around the girl’s body, pinning her arms.

Anna stared at Frieda and their eyes met. Amalia began to cry and Anna felt the panic seize her with such force that her ears rang.
What the hell is going on?

Emil kept up his slurred soliloquy. “She made babies.
To give to the Führer. Only pedigreed SS men need apply. No entanglements, no responsibilities, just the honor of fathering another child for the master race. Isn’t that right, sister? How much cannon fodder did you supply? Three, or was it four?” He looked at Anna, as if he was just remembering she was in the room. “That’s how you become a
Schwester
in Lebensborn. Tell her, sister, about what you did. And then I’ll tell her what I did in Russia. Then she can decide which one of us is worse. Or better, I guess, depending on how you look at these things.” He chuckled and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Emil put the gun down,” Anna said. “This is not the way. Just put the gun down, please.”

“This gun? Oh, it’s not mine. It belongs to your
Ami
, that Captain Cooper. It was his.” He nodded to underscore the fact. “I took it from him.”

“What?” Nothing was making sense to Anna, but she didn’t want to hear Emil’s confession. She reached again for Amalia, but Frieda pulled her away.