Finding Rebecca: A Novel of Love and the Holocaust (37 page)

“There is one thing that I insist
upon,” Stefan interjected.

“What would that be?”

“That you wait.
 
There seems to be too much consternation in the camp right now, too much
suspicion and jealousy. Wait until the new Lagerkommandant comes in, until you
get to know him, until he trusts you the way Höss did. Just do your job,
like everyone else, for a month or so, and then when the New Year comes, we’ll
see about your plan. That will give me time to prepare the way.” He reached
over and took Alexandra’s hand.

It was the 5
^th
of January
1944 when Christopher met with Rudolf Herz, the head of the metal works at the
Krupp factory in Auschwitz III, the industrial complex set up around Auschwitz
to feed off the slave labor of the inmates. Herz shook Christopher’s hand as he
opened the door and offered for his secretary to take the leather briefcase
Christopher was carrying. Christopher declined with a smile and took a seat.
The briefcase came down with a light thud on the thinly carpeted floor. Herz
was a balding, fat man in his late fifties. There was an almost empty whisky
tumbler on his desk and he immediately offered Christopher a drink, which he
accepted. Christopher held the glass to his lips and looked up at the massive
portrait of Hitler above the desk. He brought his eyes down to Herz’s.

“So, business is good these days, I
trust?”

“Oh, yes, even though the costs are
going up, never down, always up.” Herz laughed but shook his head at the same
time. “First they charge us 7 Reichmarks for a Jew, then 9, now 12. I mean how
much is one Jew worth really?”

“That depends on the Jew I suppose.”
Christopher laughed and Herz joined him, his face turning an unhealthy looking
puce as he did so.

“Yes, but I can’t complain, I
suppose, at least we have a goodly supply of Jews. They wear out quickly don’t
you know?” Herz laughed again.

“I suppose they’d last longer if you
fed them a bit more,” Christopher laughed.

“We all have our orders, Herr
Obersturmführer.” His laughter was dying now. “I can’t contravene the rulings
of the SS. You should know that better than most.”

“Believe me, I do. I tried to
convince my commanding officer otherwise once. It wasn’t a pretty sight let me
tell you.” Christopher laughed once more and Herz joined him. “But seriously,
we’re all just trying to make our way the best we can, and all the while
serving the Führer, awaiting that final victory.”

“Of course, which brings us back to
the business at hand today; to what do I owe the pleasure, Herr Seeler?”

“Yes, to the business at hand. Do you
mind if I smoke?” Herz gestured for him to continue and pushed an ashtray
across. Christopher took out a silver plated cigarette case and glanced up at
Herz to smile.

“Very nice,” Herz commented.

‘”Thank you,” Christopher said,
shaking the match out. He took a deep drag and puffed the smoke out above
Herz’s head. “We were talking about labor earlier, such a delicate issue for
employers. My grandfather was an industrialist himself, made furniture. I
remember the stories from when I was growing up, complaining about workers,
unions, rights. But, of course, that’s not something we have to worry about
anymore is it?”

“Not as such, no.”

“Anyway, with the turnover of workers
here you’re in constant need of able bodied prisoners, correct?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say the need is
constant but some of the guards here can be quite brutal. There’s very little
one can do to stop that.”

“Yes, indeed, I understand that,”
Christopher said, puffing out smoke. “Is there ever a need for child workers in
the factory? I heard that they’re required from time to time.”

“Sometimes, yes. We spent some time
cleaning out the machines last year. They’re smaller, so obviously good for
getting into those little spaces.”

Christopher thought to ask where
those children were now but thought better of it. “So, if you were to request a
consignment of children, it wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary?”

“As I said, we do require some from
time to time. Where are you going with this Herr Seeler?”

“Well, what if I was to say to you
that I needed a consignment of children myself for a business venture on the
outside?”

“Your grandfather wants to use child
labor from the camps?”

Christopher sat back in his chair and
blew a shaft of smoke into the air. “No, my grandfather is long since retired.
This is a lovely office you have here. What is this carpet, Persian?”

“Yes, I had it brought in from my home.”

“Yes, most tasteful. You do seem like
a man who enjoys the finer things in life.” Christopher flashed a half smile at
Herz and then looked back around the room. “Yes, you’re very astute Herr Herz,
very astute indeed. But for those not directly associated with the SS, coming
across Jewish child labor is difficult.”

“You can’t just…”

“Oh that’s all taken care of. My
contact has friends everywhere, friends who have assured him that they won’t
stand in the way of commerce.” The cigarette was twitching in Christopher’s
hand so he brought it down below eye level. “So what my contact needs are some
workers, workers that you could, indirectly, provide.”

“And how might I do this?” Herz
leaned forward, clasping his hands together over the desk.

“Well as we discussed earlier, it
wouldn’t be entirely out of the ordinary for you, as a businessman, to place an
order for a consignment of Jewish children, perhaps forty or forty-five who
would otherwise be liquidated, to be transferred over here directly from the
ramp in the main camp.”

“No, not entirely.”

“If that truck, carrying those
children, or workers, were to be redirected to an outside location without the
knowledge of the camp authorities?” Christopher shrugged his shoulders.

Herz leant back, feigning outrage. He
wasn’t doing a very good job. “This is outrageous! What kind of a businessman
do you think I am?”

“One who knows a good opportunity
where everyone is a winner.” Christopher stubbed the cigarette out. “You would
only have to sign the papers and lodge the order. We would take care of
everything else, including paying the fee for the workers, of course. There
would be no costs incurred to the factory itself whatsoever. I know you’re the
man to come to, a man who can make a decision that’s going to stick, a man who
makes his own mind up.” Christopher stood up. “I’ll leave you for now, as I’m
sure you’ll want time to decide. But I’ll need an answer within a day or two. I
don’t mean to rush you; it’s just that my contact’s need is great and we’ve a
few other offers to consider.” Christopher left the briefcase on the chair
where he was sitting. He walked towards the door, glancing back at Herz before
he continued.

Herz’s voice interrupted his
progress. “You’re head of the Anti-Corruption Committee, aren’t you?”

Christopher stopped and shook his
head. “Not anymore,” he said and continued out the door.

Since Friedrich had installed himself
as chairman of the Anti-Corruption Committee meetings had become shorter but
more regular. Christopher sat between Muller and Flick as Friedrich took his
seat at the head of the table beside Breitner. It was rare that any of the
heads of the crematoria showed as they had at the beginning and there was no
representative of the prisoners. Friedrich went through the order of the day.
There had been no arrests the previous day. There had been no arrests for
weeks. The meeting progressed as they always did now, with lists of numbers.
There were few confiscations now, the meetings more concerned with glorifying
the achievements of the Economic Agency.
 
There was no such thing as enough, and all Friedrich ever wanted was
more. Christopher read the numbers from the ledger, which, even with the money
he was constantly skimming now, was prodigious. The killing was gaining pace.
More and more trains were arriving and there was more and more booty to be
stolen and counted. Times had never been busier.

The meeting ended and each man stood
up. Friedrich motioned for Christopher to come over. Friedrich waited until the
last man had left before he began to speak.

“A few months ago, when you first
arrived, you put in place a new system in Canada whereby on the spot executions
were barred.”

Christopher felt his insides harden
and ice down his back but he merely nodded and pursed his lips together. “Yes,
it’s been very successful. The numbers are there to prove it.”

“Yes, well, I was thinking about
that. Some of the men are getting frustrated by the lack of discipline. This is
the only section of the entire camp where such rules exist.”

“This is also the only section of the
camp where it is our prisoners’ jobs to handle valuables all day long. If we
start killing off our own workers, production will undoubtedly suffer. The
turnaround since I’ve taken charge is evident in....”

“I spoke to the guards and the Kapos
earlier this morning. The decision on the guilt or innocence of a prisoner will
be taken by them, on-the-spot and if needs be, they will carry out whatever
punishment they see fit.”

“I have to insist that this doesn’t
happen. My workers are some of the most skilled in the camp. If I were to lose
some of them, the entire system would break down. Now what is the new
Lagerkommandant going to say if the numbers in the Economic Agency suddenly
begin to fall?”

Friedrich’s face tightened, the grey
skin of his cheeks pulled taut over his cheekbones. “The decision has already
been made, Seeler.”

Christopher smiled and stood back. “I
don’t mean any disrespect, Herr Rapportführer. It’s just that things are
working so well at the moment, why change?”

“These are not workers. These people,
if you can even refer to them as that, are vermin, enemies of the state, who
want to destroy everything decent. If you can’t see that, Herr Seeler, perhaps
you would be of more use to the Reich elsewhere.”

Christopher swallowed and looked into
Friedrich’s eyes. “Thank you for letting me know, Herr Rapportführer.” He
walked away.

Christopher saw the pool of blood in
the middle of the warehouse, but the body had been removed. Christopher knew
the women who worked in here, knew who had been killed, and knew that it had
been because she had rejected the guard’s sexual advances. The women in the
warehouse didn’t look up as he walked back and forth. Though Christopher wanted
to beg their forgiveness he said nothing. There were two guards on duty.
Christopher took out a packet of cigarettes as he ambled towards them. He
smiled as he caught their eyes and motioned them both towards him. A scream
from another warehouse pierced the cold grey air.

“Hey boys, how are we doing today?” Christopher
proffered the cigarettes to them and each accepted. They both nodded as if
contented yet bored. “Great, good to hear it, just a quick question for you,”
he looked at each of them as he spoke, clouds of smoke swirling into the air
above them. “What happened here?”

“We caught one of these bitches with
her hand in the box,” the first guard, Schlesinger said. Christopher knew him;
he was from Hamburg. The other guard, Hauser, was his cousin.

Christopher nodded and took a drag
from the cigarette. “Oh, okay. It seems funny though.”

“What seems funny, Herr
Obersturmführer?” Hauser asked.

“It just seems funny that they’d want
to steal used eyeglasses, because that’s all they sort in this room.”
Christopher looked around the warehouse. There were eight women, one less than
that morning, sorting through a mountain of eyeglasses. Christopher looked down
at the pool of crimson coagulating in the filth of the floor and then back at
the men. Neither of them spoke but their eyes did not move from his. “You like
working in the Economic Agency, don’t you?”

“Of course, Herr Seeler,” Hauser
replied.

Christopher smiled and pulled on the
cigarette once more. “Of course you do, boys, now get this blood cleaned up,
it’s disgusting.”

The air cut at Christopher’s skin
like a blade as he walked outside. Christopher could feel his heart beating
faster as he went, the adrenaline in his blood throwing each foot forward
faster than usual so that he almost burst into a jog. The atmosphere in the
warehouses had changed. No one looked back at him as he peered into each
warehouse as he passed by. There was fear everywhere. Christopher threw down
the cigarette and heard the scream and the thud of Frankl’s baton against the
young girl’s skull. He twitched as he watched her crawl out of the warehouse he
was passing and through the snow, her hands desperately reaching out to
Christopher for help he could no longer give. Frankl hit her again and her head
went down. He hit her again and again, her head collapsing under the pressure
of the blows and Christopher walked away back to the office.