Chapter 10
‘Come with me,’ said the man, taking her arm again.
‘Where are we going?’ He was leading her further away from the tram and in the opposite direction to her home.
‘We need to talk. Somewhere private.’
After about five minutes of walking, criss-crossing streets, taking main roads and side streets and what felt like going back on themselves, Clara was completely disorientated.
She had no idea where she was. They were now walking down a narrow side street which appeared to house mainly residential properties with the occasional baker’s or café.
‘In here,’ said the man, still holding Clara’s arm.
He guided her into a café which had a closed sign on the door.
It was dark inside, the autumn evening already closing in on the city.
There were several round wooden chairs and tables with a bar at the back of the premises.
A man wearing a white, somewhat stained apron, over a grey shirt stood behind the counter, drying glasses.
He nodded at Clara’s escort and motioned with his head to a door at the side of the bar.
Clara hesitated. She had a bad feeling about what was behind the door, but the man wasn’t having any of it. He forcefully yanked her along. ‘Don’t be scared,’ he said. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you.’
The bartender stepped out from behind the counter and, walking around Clara, went to the front of the café.
She heard the bolts slide across the top and bottom of the door.
Before she had time to consider any other options open to her, she was being hustled through to a hallway with a wooden staircase.
There were two doors. One looked like a rear exit.
She glanced up at the bolts. They too were slid into place, but she did note a key in the lock.
It was a possible escape route if she needed it.
She just had to hope there was a yard at the back she could escape from.
‘It doesn’t go anywhere other than the toilet,’ said the man as if reading her thoughts.
‘In here.’ He opened the door on the left of the stairs which led into some kind of living room.
There was a sofa on one side of the room in front of a fireplace.
On the other side was a kitchenette and a small table and chairs.
A cat jumped off the worktop, making Clara startle.
It mewed and sauntered towards Clara. ‘I wouldn’t advise touching it. Full of fleas no doubt.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with the cat,’ came the voice of the bartender as he entered the room.
‘Please, sit.’ The man went over to the window and closed the curtains, before switching on a lamp. An amber glow spread out across the room, not quite reaching the other side.
Clara sat on one of the dining chairs. She cast her gaze around the room, somewhat relieved it didn’t appear to be some kind of torture chamber.
It was sparse and could do with a thoroughly good clean.
There were dishes and pots piled up on the side with various food debris stuck to them.
A faint waft of a several days old dustbin contents drifted across the room.
‘Drink?’ asked the bartender going over to the cupboard and holding up a bottle of Korn.
‘Haven’t you got real vodka?’ asked the other man. ‘I can’t stand that wheat-based pretend stuff.’
‘Not for free,’ came the reply. The bartender poured two glasses, obviously confident the other man would indeed drink it despite his protestations. The bartender looked at Clara questioningly.
Clara shook her head. ‘Can someone tell me why I’m here?’ she asked, sitting upright. ‘And who you are?’
The man took off his hat and placed it on the back of the sofa, pushing his blond hair from his forehead. He took a seat opposite her. ‘You can call me Max.’ She looked at the bartender. Max took a sip of his drink he proclaimed not to like. ‘You can call him Karl.’
‘Not your real names, I presume?’ Clara looked from one to the other.
She was beginning to feel angry for being forced here.
The fear she had initially felt had subsided and now her sense of anger was rising.
‘Look, can you just tell me what you want from me? I need to go home, my husband will wonder where I am.’
‘Ah, yes, Captain Friedrich Bergmann, Logistics Officer specialising in medical supplies,’ said Max.
Clara stilled at the comment. They knew Friedrich and not just in a vague manner. Her stomach did a nervous flip and her heart picked up its pace. ‘What do you want?’
‘Don’t be nervous, Frau Bergmann,’ said Max. ‘Or can I call you Clara?’
Clara was sure that saying no wasn’t an option. Besides, she didn’t want to antagonise the two men. Her confidence had been brief. ‘If you want.’
‘Do you know what else you’re called?’ continued Max, sitting back casually in the chair. Clara shook her head and Max continued. ‘Engel des Lebens.’
‘Angel of Life,’ Clara whispered first in English and then carefully in German. ‘Engel des Lebens.’ Her hand went to the pin on her midwife’s cape. ‘Who calls me that?’
This time Max smiled. ‘Have a guess.’
Another shake of her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘The Jewish women,’ supplied Karl, clearly not into playing games.
‘The ones you’ve helped, often in the dead of night,’ said Max.
‘They speak of the midwife who comes to help them when they have been denied any kind of care from the authorities. When they are living in fear of a knock on the door or a letter on the doormat telling them they are being relocated. Where, they don’t know but fear they will have no help then. ’
Clara looked warily from one man to the other, fearful she might be walking into a trap of some kind. ‘I have not heard of this midwife,’ she said, licking her dry lips. ‘Why are you telling me about her?’
Karl went to say something but stopped as Max lifted his hand. ‘We would like to speak to this midwife to ensure her motives are genuine. And that she is not gathering information.’
‘Information?’
‘To pass onto the authorities about who is living where, who has had a baby, who might not share the correct political views.’ Max took another sip of his drink, before placing the glass back down, his fingers then drumming against the table.
For a moment, the calm and cold mask slipped, revealing something raw underneath.
Then he caught Clara watching and he snatched his hand away. ‘Do you understand what I mean?’
Clara shifted in her seat. ‘I’m sure the midwife’s motives are genuine, and she only wants to help the mothers and babies.’
There was a heavy silence in the room. Clara was aware for the first time of a clock ticking on the mantelpiece. From the corner of her eye, she saw the cat stretch its front paws out along the back of the sofa, its claws digging into the worn fabric.
‘Let’s stop playing games,’ said Karl.
Max looked faintly annoyed for a moment, but his expression softened. ‘You’re right, Karl. No more games.’ He took one last swig of the shot and put the glass down heavily on the table.
Clara flinched but refused to look away. She wasn’t sure what sort of situation she was in, but she didn’t want them to think she was weak. It felt important that she stay strong. Capitulating and fawning like a helpless person weren’t going to get her out of there safely, she was sure.
‘What is it you want?’ She felt like she was repeating herself constantly. ‘Let’s get to the point of this, otherwise I might as well leave now.’ She went to get up from her chair, but Karl stepped forward and put his hand on the backrest, making it impossible for her to move.
‘Clara,’ began Max. ‘Please, let’s talk.’
Clara relented and sat back in her chair. ‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘I don’t mean your names, your false names, but who are you? Where are your loyalties?’
‘Interesting question,’ mused Max. ‘Our loyalties are to Germany.’
It was the sort of answer Friedrich had given her. She knew where his loyalties were. ‘To Germany now or before?’
‘Why are you asking questions?’ interrupted Karl.
‘Because I want to know who I’m dealing with.
Who wants something from me.’ She was playing a risky game.
These two men could easily kill her now if they wanted to.
They were dancing around each other because no one quite trusted the other.
But one of them had to give otherwise they would get nowhere.
All she wanted to do was to get out of there alive and preferably unharmed.
She took a deep breath. ‘So, I’m going to guess you don’t work for the government.
You’re not police. You’re not military.’
‘What makes you so sure of that?’ asked Max. He seemed amused again.
‘The way you didn’t want to draw attention to us on the street.
The way you cursed when you saw The Greens.
The way we’re in a quiet street and you’ve practically smuggled me in here.
If you were the authorities then you would want to make a big display of your power in front of everyone. To incite some fear.’
Max inclined his head. ‘And you are correct.’
‘Do you want me to guess anything else?’
‘Please do.’
‘You want me to help more with the Jewish mothers and babies,’ said Clara, feeling braver now she knew the men weren’t the authorities. Resistance she assumed.
‘Not quite,’ said Max. ‘Today a pregnant woman came to your clinic. Frau Müller. We need you to get close to her and find out certain information.’
Clara hoped her expression remained neutral. She wasn’t ready to reveal anything just yet. ‘What information?’
‘Her husband works in the housing department. He is in charge of relocating Jewish residents,’ said Karl, finally sitting down at the table.
‘We want you to visit Frau Müller at home. You will have to find a reason to do so. Insist on a home visit or something,’ said Max.
‘Her husband, Hans Müller takes work home with him. At six o’clock every evening, he takes a stroll around the neighbourhood with their pet dog.
When he does this, you need to get copies of his records.
We need to know who is being transferred, when and where, so we can move them to a safe house. ’
Clara looked between the two men again. She thought of Friedrich and what he would think if he knew she was being asked this.
More importantly, what would happen if she were caught.
He would be arrested too. If he was found complicit .
. . she didn’t want to think of the consequences.
‘I don’t think I can help you,’ she said.
‘That is not the right answer.’ Max took a cigarette packet from his pocket. He offered one to Clara.
‘No. I don’t smoke.’
Max lit his cigarette. His actions slow and deliberate. He took in a deep draw, holding it for a few seconds before blowing the smoke out into the room. ‘You don’t really have a choice.’
‘I can’t influence which patients I’m assigned to,’ said Clara. ‘It is not up to me.’
‘Why do you think you were assigned to see Frau Müller this morning?’ asked Max.
Clara was sure her heart missed a beat. ‘What?’ How on earth did they know that? She looked across the table. Max took another long lazy draw on his cigarette. And then it dawned on her. Frau Lange had made it happen. ‘Oh.’
‘Ah, now you get it,’ said Max. ‘So, you see. You can absolutely do this. All you need to do is arrange for a home visit.’
‘It’s not just that,’ said Clara. ‘My husband. I can’t put him in danger. It’s not my decision to make.’
‘Don’t even think about talking to him,’ said Karl.
Clara shrank back. Of the two men, Karl seemed more hostile and intimidating. ‘I wasn’t,’ she said. ‘But if I’m caught he will be arrested and questioned. Maybe imprisoned if they think his wife is working against the machine. He isn’t part of this.’
‘You have already made him part of this by helping the Jewish women. Maybe you should have thought about that first,’ said Karl.
‘If you don’t help us, he could still be arrested and questioned,’ said Max. ‘We can make things happen.’
Clara realised she was faced with a fait accompli. ‘I don’t appear to have any choice in this.’
‘Not really, but it would be better if you would do it willingly, then we really know we can trust you,’ said Max. ‘You have a lot to prove, being married to a German officer.’
‘Why me though?’ asked Clara. ‘Why not ask someone else?’
Karl gave a snort of laughter. ‘They told me you were an intelligent woman,’ he scoffed. ‘We can’t just go and ask anyone. You are the Angel of Life. You are trusted on both sides. You are our asset.’
Clara thought she should feel flattered at being considered an asset, but she wasn’t sure she would prove to be. It was one thing helping women give birth, but another stealing official documents.
‘Think of it like this,’ said Max. ‘You getting the information we need will help save many lives. It is doing what you’re already doing but on a larger scale. We can continue your work. We are another part of the chain in keeping Jewish women and children safe. You need to get that information.’
Clara nodded. ‘I understand.’
‘So, you are going to help us willingly?’ pressed Max.
Again, Clara nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’