The Roses Underneath (41 page)

Emil shook his head. “You know the painting I told you I took from the villa, the picture of the little girl standing on the chair?”

Anna nodded.

“It’s disappeared. I took it because it was one of the only ones there that still had the original label on it. Schneider had gotten busy tearing the labels off and putting fake ones on. And Breuer’s was a well-known gallery in this area, so I figured that was probably the most famous painting in that whole lot. And now it’s gone. I was going to give it to you and that
Ami
of yours, but then it got taken.”

Anna nodded and turned the cigarette packet over in her hands as she waited for more.

“I took it to my house and was going to explain the whole thing to you. I left you a note at your desk. But you didn’t come, and then I lost my head and we fought. In the alleyway, you remember? And then the painting was gone. So it’s all a big mess now.”

“Yes, I remember. But, Emil, how did you even know about the art at the villa?” Anna tried to piece the story together.

“Because my sister worked there when it was a home for children—the Lebensborn home. And she let Schneider hide it there. He gave her a cut, of course. The Gestapo caught him, but they never caught her or found the art. And he kept his mouth shut so she’d keep his secret.”

Anna shook her head. “Frieda and Schneider? But how do they even know each other?”

“I’m getting to that,” Emil said. “But now that the painting is gone, I can’t prove any of this.”

“Actually, I know where the painting is, don’t worry,” Anna said.

“You do?”

“Yes, it’s safe. So the fake labels were supposed to throw the
Amis
off the path when they tried to return the paintings to their owners?”

“Yes, but it was a stupid idea, I thought. The
Amis
would have figured it out pretty soon. But maybe not if Schneider was the one processing the art the Collecting Point. Do you see?”

Anna nodded. “But why didn’t you tell the Monuments Men all this?”

“I didn’t know at first that’s what their job at the Collecting Point was. No one ever explained it to me. I was just fixing the plumbing. When I figured out that they were in charge of returning stolen art, I saw my chance to do the right thing. I took the painting and had it in my apartment. I swear, I was going to take it to the
Amis
. But it’s large and not so easy to smuggle around. So before I could get it out of the house, Frieda must have found it and given it back to Schneider.”

Anna remembered following Schneider with the package. “And he gave it to Schenk.” She paused. “And they used it to bribe the Major in Frankfurt. So he would push Schneider through.
Pretty clever. But what about Schenk? Who is he anyway?”

Emil smiled. “There is no Schenk. He took that name from one of Schneider’s friends who died years ago. His real name is Gerhardt Heinrich.”

Anna’s mind began to focus as Emil continued. “Heinrich owned a gallery in Mainz before the war. I met him because he was the brother of a close friend who was a painter and whose work he sold. I bought one or two paintings, just for fun. But then he began working at the Reichskulturkammer in Frankfurt with Schneider before he got promoted to the ERR. The Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg. They were nothing more than art thieves. Not that I gave a damn about some stolen pieces of art. There was so much else to worry about. But Heinrich was one of the best looters and as ruthless as any SS S
turmbannführer
to hear him tell it. Went to Vienna, Paris, God knows where, and came back with art that was worth millions. Took from all of the big Jewish collectors, sent a lot of people to concentration camps, left a lot of corpses in his wake. All for a few paintings. He was too high-profile to disappear back into the swamp. So he changed his name.”

Anna had a flash of recognition. “He’s on my list of gallery owners, Heinrich is. He’s marked deceased.”

Emil nodded. He shot a look at the guard and rubbed the frostbitten stumps of his fingers. “That’s right. He got himself a fake death certificate. And all that stuff at the villa? Schneider stole from Jewish families too. He was supposed to give it to his bosses, but he kept it for himself. They found out and sent him to Dachau, but they never found the stash, thanks to my sister. She helped him hide it at the villa. She met him through Gerhard Heinrich. I think she was sort of sweet on Heinrich, even though he was much to old for her. They met at a Party rally and then she wanted to prove herself as a true believer so he would like her. She was pretty and she had the right look, she knew that, but it wasn’t enough. You had to prove your commitment. He knew it, too—that she would do anything for him. So when he asked her to help his good friend Schneider, of course she did. By then she was up to her waist in the SS—literally—and had become a bigger believer than Heinrich and Himmler put together. Heinrich gave her paintings to keep her cooperative, even though he didn’t need to anymore. She would have done anything for him.

“I thought those two cretins had vanished and that she would come to her senses, but first Schneider and then Heinrich turned up again, like they are indestructible. It turned out the art was all still down there in the basement, but now they saw the
Amis
taking all the stuff and wanted to make sure they stayed in business. When you found the stash at the villa I had already told the police—the Americans—about it. Somehow it got all turned around and they thought Captain Cooper was to blame. Also, there was a rat in the larder.” Emil lowered his voice. “Someone was keeping tabs on what you and Cooper were doing and reporting it back to Schneider.”

“Let me guess. That Corporal. Miller,” Anna said.

“That’s right. He tried to incriminate you to the police. It was Miller who gave Schneider your address so he could bribe you. That was their first try to get to you. How did you know?”

“I think I found Miller’s payment.
From Schneider. At the villa.”

“It was all small-time stuff until I heard all about your meeting at the Nassauer Hof. Heinrich—the one you know as Schenk—and Frieda talked about it later that night after you met him. Heinrich was furious. I knew you had stepped into something you didn’t understand. And when you mentioned to me that you were looking to buy travel papers, I knew the offer must have come from him. He was going to set you up, to get to you somehow. And that’s how Frieda saw her chance to help him again. She was going to use Amalia to get to you. I was trying to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

Anna sank into her chair feeling angry and stupid and furious.
How could you have been so trusting?
“I’m sorry Emil. I really misunderstood you.”

“Don’t. It doesn’t matter now. I didn’t know what she was doing. I thought she was done with all that like I am. Otherwise I never would have let her keep Amalia. Never. You have to believe me. She is my sister. I wanted to believe she was not one of them, like the crazies I dealt with at the front. That she was not like that. But then I found that room in the basement. And I heard what she told the children. She was always asking Amalia about you and what you were doing. She would give her treats in exchange for a promise not to tell you about it. I was an idiot. The whole country is full of idiots like me.”

“But why did you do it Emil? Why did you try to kill her? Your own sister.”

Emil said nothing for a long time. When he finally began to speak, he looked Anna directly in the eye, as if to imprint the words. “Sometimes, before I went to the front, I would go to the Lebensborn home and play with the children. I was a bit of a true believer myself. We all thought the war would be over in a year, and then there would be a glorious future for Germany. It was all so bright and shiny and clean, with happy little babies and families coming to take them to nice homes. I didn’t know what it all meant, not until I went to Russia and saw what we were really doing.”

Anna tried again. “But why didn’t you just tell the
Amis
about Frieda? There are processes to deal with people like her. Why not just report her?”

“Because no one would listen to me. Who believes
a nobody like me? A crazy soldier? Not about the painting, not about her. The
Amis
had cleared her. They didn’t know anything about Lebensborn. She said she was a nurse, they believed her and there we are. So I dealt with it myself. Because she is not sorry, not at all, not for anything she did.” He rubbed his palms as his shoulders slumped and his head tilted to one side, as if he had no more strength to hold it up. “I don’t deserve to be out there. And neither does she. I didn’t do the right thing so many times when I should have. So I am doing it now.”

“Oh, Emil. I am sorry. But this is not the way to go about it. Don’t you know that?”

“Anna, you have no idea. So many times I wanted to do the right thing. Every day I had the chance. But I never did. I was too scared of what they would do to me. And now I have nightmares, every night. Always they are the same.”

“Tell me,” Anna said. “It will help if you talk about it. Really.”

Emil stared into the distance. When he spoke it was so quiet that Anna had to lean forward to hear. “I saw her one day, standing in the middle of a field. It was in the Ukraine. We had been marching all day and the weather was hot. We were so tired. We came over the hill and saw the troop of the
Einsatzgruppe
, you know, the special killing squads, that was ahead of us pulled over on the side of the road. They were supposed to have been hours ahead of us, to the next town. But these guys had pulled over and were running around in the field, scaring the women working there. They’d run at them with fixed bayonets and scream and carry on. One of them was taking photographs.” He turned his head and looked at the guard who stared straight ahead.

“Then I saw one of them,” Emil continued. “He was pointing his K98 right at a woman. She was carrying a small child, a baby. He had already shot her cow, it was lying on the ground mooing and snorting. She tried to shield the baby from him with her shoulder, turning her body away from him. As if that would do any good. And the only thing I could think was
, which one is he going to shoot first? The baby or the mother? If he shoots the baby first, the mother will live the horror of watching her child die. But she knows if he shoots her first, she can’t protect her baby. And then his friend came with the camera. To take a picture, can you imagine? I couldn’t believe what had become of us. Were we all animals? Why were we acting like this?” He paused and stared into empty space behind Anna.

“And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. They kept us full of vodka and threatened to kill our families if we didn’t follow orders. And they would have shot me if I stepped out of line and then shot her anyway. Now I wish I had done it, then none of this would be happening. But then, we didn’t know up from down anymore, we were so tired and scared. We all just kept marching like nothing was happening. And then he shot her. She fell, and dropped the baby. It started crying.” He looked at Anna. “And then he shot the baby. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Anna pressed her lips together. She slid her hand across the table and took hold of Emil’s. It was ice cold. As she squeezed his fingers he moved his eyes to meet hers. They held only despair and anguish in their dark blue pools. His easy smile and sweet nature had been destroyed. He was completely broken.

He cocked his head. “I see her every day.
Her skirt blowing in the wind, her hand over the baby’s head. The last thing she saw in this life was us, German soldiers, marching past her, watching the show. No one could help her.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and exhaled. “Don’t you wonder what’s going to become of us? After all this?”

Anna closed her eyes. The war may have been over but now the world seemed full of people acting out their own internal conflicts. Keeping the cause going, making amends,
giving up, whatever it was. When you empty the world of all its goodness, people will fill it with anything that makes them feel better.

“Emil, I wish I could take your pain from you.”

“All right, time’s up, Schilling. Say your good-byes,” the guard said flatly. He jingled his keys to make his point.

Emil stood and pulled Anna to her feet. “Now I’ve told you everything. And I do feel better.” He held her hand against his cheek and closed his eyes. Anna smiled and felt a small spark of hope surge in her chest. As the guard pushed Emil through the door, he turned to look at her. As their eyes met, Anna felt a panic take hold of her and she grabbed his shoulder. “Emil, you must tell them everything you know,” she said. “You did a good thing with the painting. They will show you mercy. And I will tell them too. I have a hearing tomorrow. I will tell them everything you’ve told me. It will be all right, I know it.” She knew no such thing but could think of nothing else to say.

He smiled at her as if she were a child. Taking her hand again, he put it to his mouth for a kiss. In that moment, she could feel his torment for herself.

“Goodbye, Anna. Don’t cry, please,” he said. “I do feel better that you came. Thank you.” He let go of her hand, nodded at the guard, and was gone.

Anna tugged at the belt that was attempting to keep Otto’s pants from sliding down over her hips. Either the belt was stretching or she had lost more weight. The room was hot and the air smelled of food cooking—or maybe it was body odor, it was hard to tell. The chair the
Amis
had given her had one leg shorter than the others, causing it to wobble and make a scraping sound on the wood floor. She rocked in her seat, back and forth, as she stared at the green metal door at the other end of the room. “Wait here. Someone will be here to escort you shortly,” the little corporal with the oily face and thick waist had told her. That had been a while ago. Footsteps on the other side of the door came and went and voices murmured, but the door never moved. It was like waiting for the doctor, Anna thought.