Chapter 17 #2
That need was crystallised into desperate determination the morning of her appointment at the police station. Instead of Friedrich’s friend, Herr Arnold, it was Fuchs behind the desk.
He clearly enjoyed making her squirm, not with threats, but with the way his eyes lingered over her body when he checked her papers, slowly, methodically, despite knowing exactly who she was.
The way he ran his tongue across his top lip, deliberate and obscene, and held her passport hostage a little longer than necessary before letting her pull it from his fingers.
Even after she turned to leave, she could feel his gaze boring into her back, following her all the way to the door.
Her skin crawled.
Fuchs embodied everything she despised about the regime, the sadism disguised as duty, the petty power wielded over the powerless, the pleasure taken in other’s fears. Men like him didn’t just follow orders, they relished them.
The day passed quickly and went some way to distracting her from her dark thoughts.
The joy of bringing a baby into the world that morning brought a mixture of relief as well as hope.
As she wrapped the newborn in a towel to pass to the mother, she silently wished that the child would grow up in a world of peace.
She hoped it would come soon but also made a silent promise to that child that she would do everything she could to make the world a better place for it.
That promise echoed in her mind as she made her way across the city to Ursula’s house. She thought of Fuchs’s leering face, of how he’d made her feel small and powerless. But she wasn’t powerless.
And not only that, but she would also keep getting those lists from Hans’s study, no matter how much guilt gnawed at her.
She genuinely liked Ursula, even considered her a friend, and hated the deception.
Every visit to that study felt like a betrayal of the woman who’d welcomed her, who trusted her.
But what was one woman’s trust weighed against dozens of lives?
Against babies like the one she’d delivered this morning.
Like the Levins and their baby. The answer was clear, even if it made her feel wretched.
She might not be able to save them but there were others still to come who she could save.
That Thursday, Ursula greeted Clara with her usual enthusiasm and after examining her patient, Clara was very confident mother and unborn baby were in good health.
‘You’re my model patient,’ she said. ‘But I’d still like you to rest. Just because we’ve been out once, it doesn’t mean everything is all right.’
‘Are you always this bossy?’ asked Ursula.
‘When it comes to my patients, yes.’ Clara packed her stethoscope into her bag. She’d dragged the appointment out as long as she could, waiting for Her Müller to come back so she could get access to his briefcase but today he was late.
‘Would you like a coffee before you leave?’ asked Ursula.
Clara couldn’t have asked for a better excuse. ‘That would be lovely, but I’ll do it. Midwife’s orders, you’re to stay resting there.’
‘Oh, I’m fine.’
‘No. I insist,’ said Clara. ‘Besides I don’t want Herr Müller to come home and find you waiting on me. I don’t think he’d be very pleased.’
Ursula smiled. ‘If you put it like that. Anyway, he’s a big softy really.’
Clara had just filled the kettle when she heard Herr Müller’s keys in the front door, his voice calling out an apology for his lateness.
‘Finally,’ she breathed.
Kaiser erupted in delighted yapping, his claws skittering up and down the hallway.
‘I think you need to take him out,’ Ursula called from the living room.
Müller appeared in the kitchen doorway, loosening his tie. ‘Ah, Frau Bergmann, I didn’t know you were still here.’
‘I was just making coffee for you both before I leave.’ Clara kept her voice light and casual.
Müller eyed the cups on the counter and pursed his lips. ‘Very well. I’m taking the dog out first, though.’ He dropped his briefcase just inside the study door, so close, tantalisingly close.
The moment the front door closed behind him, Clara grabbed the coffee cups. “I’ll just bring these through. I’m afraid I’ve spilt some grounds in the kitchen. Let me clean up quickly.’
Ursula started to rise, but Clara was already moving. ‘No, please, stay comfortable. I’ll only be a moment.’ She pulled the living room door closed behind her.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she seized the briefcase. Her hands shook as she rifled through the papers. There – the list.
She pulled out her notebook and pencil, copying names with swift, practised strokes. One after another. Then she froze.
Several names were underlined in red. Her eyes tracked across the columns. The Neuruppin column – ticked. Multiple times.
Ice flooded her veins. Friedrich had mentioned Neuruppin. Where Frau Levin had been sent. He hadn’t said what happened there, but his silence had told her enough.
She marked the red-underlined names with a small cross in her notebook and kept copying, fast now. Kaiser’s bark would signal his and Müller’s return.
The next name stopped her cold.
Hannah Rothstein. Red underline. Neuruppin column ticked.
No.
Her pencil hovered over the page. Not Hannah.
Kaiser’s barking erupted outside – closer, urgent.
Clara scribbled the last two names from memory, snapped the briefcase shut and shoved it back by the study door. She was in the kitchen, wiping an imaginary spill from the counter, when she heard Müller come back in.
She called her goodbyes to Ursula, gathered her things and stepped into the cold evening air.
Her hands were still trembling as she walked away from the building. She needed to get to Max. Tonight. Now. She couldn’t let anything happen to Hannah – not after she’d failed Frau Levin. Not after she’d stood at her window and done nothing while that baby was taken away.