Hanns Heinz Ewers Alraune (12 page)

“Not at all Uncle Jakob,” said the attorney
quietly. “Fräulein Alma will learn your name anyway if she stays
for a long time at your home or your clinic whether you like it or
not.”

He turned to the prostitute, “Excuse me,
Fräulein Alma. My uncle is a little old!”

He couldn’t see the Privy Councilor in the
dark but he could clearly hear how his uncle pressed his wide lips
together in impotent rage. It pleased him and he thought that his
uncle would finally loose it but he was wrong. The Privy Councilor
remained calm.

“So have you already told the young lady what
this is about? Does she understand?”

Frank Braun laughed in his face. “She has no
idea! I have not spoken a word about it, have only been with
Fräulein Alma scarcely a hundred steps from across the street–I’ve
scarcely spoken ten words with her–but I have seen how she
dances–”

“But Herr Doctor,” the assistant doctor
interrupted him. After what we have just experienced wouldn’t it be
better to let her know?”

“Dear Petersen,” the attorney said
arrogantly. “Calm down. I am convinced that this is just the girl
we need and I think that is enough.”

The coach stopped in front of a wine locale
and they entered. Frank Braun asked for a private room in the back
and the waiter led them to one. Then he looked at the wine
selection and ordered two bottles of Pommery and a bottle of
cognac.

“Hurry up!” he cried.

The waiter brought the wine and left. Frank
Braun closed the door. Then he stepped up to the prostitute.

“Please Fräulein Alma, may I take your
hat?”

She gave him her hat and her wild, unpinned
hair cascaded down and curled around her forehead and cheeks. Her
face was clear with just a few freckles and her green eyes
shimmered. Small rows of bright teeth shone out between thin pale
lips and she was surrounded by a consuming, almost unnatural
sensuality.

“Take off your blouse,” he said.

She obeyed quietly. He loosened both buttons
of her shift at the shoulders and pulled it down to reveal two
almost classically formed breasts that were only a little too firm.
Frank Braun glanced over at his uncle.

“That will be enough,” he said. “The rest
will look just as good. Her hips certainly leave nothing more to
desire.”

Then he turned back to the prostitute. “Thank
you Alma. You may get dressed again.”

The girl obeyed, took the cup that he offered
and emptied it. During that hour he made sure that her cup never
stood empty for more than a minute. Then he chatted with her. He
talked about Paris, spoke of beautiful women at the de la Galette
in Moulin and at the Elysée in Montmartre. He described exactly how
they looked, described their shoes, their hats and their dresses.
Then he turned to the prostitute.

“You know Alma, it is really a shame to see
you running around here. Please don’t think badly of me but haven’t
I seen you before somewhere else? Were you ever in the Union Bar or
the Arcadia?”

No, she had never been in them or in the
Amour Hall. Once she had gone with a gentleman to the old Ballroom
but when she went back alone the next night she was turned away at
the door because she wasn’t dressed properly.

“Of course you need to be dressed properly,”
Frank Braun confirmed. “Do you think you will ever again stand all
dressed up in front of that ballroom door?”

The prostitute laughed, “It doesn’t really
matter–a man is a man!”

He paid no attention and told her fabulous
stories of women that had made their fortunes in the great
ballrooms. He spoke of beautiful pearl necklaces and large
diamonds, carriages and teams of white horses. Then suddenly he
asked.

“Tell me, how long have you been running
around here?”

She said quietly, “It’s been four years since
I ran away from home.”

He questioned her, pulled out of her bit by
bit what he wanted to know. He drank with her, filling her glass
and pouring cognac into her champagne without her noticing. She was
almost twenty years old and had come from Halberstadt. Her father
was an honest Baker, honorable and distinguished like her mother
and like her six sisters.

She had first lain with a man a few days
after her confirmation. He was an associate of her father’s. Had
she loved him? Not at all–well only when–yes and then there was
another and then another. Both her father and her mother had beaten
her but she would still run off and stay out all night. It went on
like that for a year – until one day her parents threw her out.
Then she pawned her watch and traveled to Berlin. She had been here
ever since–

Frank Braun said, “Yes, yes. That is quite a
story.” Then he continued, “But now, today is your lucky day!”

“Really,” she asked. “Why do you say
that?”

Her voice rang hoarse like it was under a
veil, “One day is just a good as another to me–All I need is a man,
nothing else!”

But he knew how to get her interest, “But
Alma, you have to be contented with any man that wants you!
Wouldn’t you like it if it were the other way around?–If you could
have anyone that you wanted?”

Her eyes lit up at that. “Oh yes, I would
really like that!”

He laughed, “Well have you ever met anyone on
the street that you wanted and he wouldn’t give you the time of
day? Wouldn’t it be great if you could choose him instead?”

She laughed, “You, my boy. I would really
like to–”

“Me as well,” he agreed. “Then and any time
you wanted. But you can only do that when you have money and that
is why I said that today is your lucky day because you can earn a
lot of money today if you want.”

“How much,” she asked.

He said, “Enough money to buy you all the
dresses and jewelry that will get you into the finest and most
distinguished ballrooms. How much?–Let’s say ten thousand–or make
it twelve thousand Marks.”

“What!” gasped the assistant doctor.

The professor, who had never even considered
such a sum snapped, “You seem to be somewhat free with other
people’s money.”

Frank Braun laughed in delight. “Do you hear
that Alma, how the Privy Councilor is beside himself over the sum
that he should give you? But I must tell you that it is not free.
You will be helping him and he should help you as well. Is fifteen
thousand alright with you?”

She looked at him with enormous eyes.

“Yes, but what do I need to do for it?”

“That is the thing that is so funny,” he
said. “You don’t need to do anything right now, only wait a little
bit. That’s all.”

She drank, “Wait?” She cried gaily, “I’m not
very good at waiting. But if I must for fifteen thousand Marks I
will! Prosit boy!” and she emptied her glass.

He quickly filled it up again.

“It is a splendid story,” he declared. “There
is a gentleman, he is a count–well, really a prince, a good looking
fellow. You would really like him. But unfortunately you can’t see
him. They have him in prison and he will be executed soon. The poor
fellow, especially since he is as innocent as you or I. He is just
somewhat irascible and that’s how the misfortune happened. While he
was intoxicated he got into a quarrel with his best friend and shot
him. Now he must die.”

“What should I do?” She asked quickly. Her
nostrils quivered. Her interest in this curious prince was fully
aroused.

“You,” he continued. “You can help him fulfil
his last wish–”

“Yes,” she cried quickly. “Yes, yes!–He wants
to be with a woman one more time right? I will do it, do it
gladly–and he will be satisfied with me!”

“Well done, Alma,” said the attorney. “Well
done. You are a good girl– but things are not that simple. Pay
attention so you understand.

After he had stabbed–I mean shot his friend
to death he ran to his family. They should have protected him, hid
him, helped him to escape but they didn’t do that at all. They knew
how immensely rich he was and thought there was a good possibility
that they would inherit everything from him so they called the
police instead.”

“The Devil!” Alma said with conviction.

“Yes, they did,” he continued. “It was
frightfully mean of them. So he was imprisoned and what do you
think he wants now?”

“Revenge,” she replied promptly.

He clapped her approvingly on the
shoulder.

“That’s right Alma. I see you have read all
the right books. So he is determined to get revenge on his
treacherous family and the only way to do it was to cut them off
from his inheritance. You understand everything so far don’t
you?”

“Naturally I understand,” she declared. “It
would serve them right.”

“But how to do it,” he continued. “That was
the question. After long deliberation he found the only possible
way. The only way he could prevent his millions to be taken was if
he had a child of his own!”

“Does the prince have one?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “Unfortunately he has
none. But he still lives. There is still time–”

Her breath flew and her breasts heaved
quickly, “I understand,” she cried. “I can have the prince’s
child.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Will you?”

And she screamed, “Yes I will.”

She threw herself back in the lounge chair,
spread out her legs and opened her arms wide. A heavy lock of red
hair fell down onto her neck. Then she sprang up, emptied her glass
again.

“It’s hot in here,” she said. “–Very
hot!”

She tore her blouse off and fanned herself
with a handkerchief.

He held her glass out to her. “Would you like
some more? Come, we will drink to the prince!”

Their glasses clinked together.

“A nice robber story you tell there,” hissed
the Privy Councilor to his nephew. “I am curious how it comes
out.”

“Have no fear, Uncle Jakob,” he came back.
“There is still another chapter.”

Then he turned again to the red haired
prostitute.

“Well then, that is what it’s all about Alma.
That’s how you can help us. But there is still a problem that I
must explain to you. As you know, the baron–”

“She interrupted him, “The baron? I thought
he was a prince?”

“Naturally he is a prince,” confirmed Frank
Braun. “But when he is incognito he calls himself baron– That’s the
way it is with princes.

Now then, his Highness, the prince–”

“His Highness?” she whispered.

“Certainly,” he cried. “Highness like King or
Kaiser! But you must swear that you will not talk about it–not to
any one–So then, the prince is in disgrace now in a dungeon and
heavily guarded at all times. No one is permitted to see him except
his attorney. It is highly unlikely that he will be able to be with
a woman before his last hour.”

“Oh,” she sighed.

Her interest in the unlucky prince was
visibly less but Frank Braun paid no attention.

“There,”–he declaimed totally unperturbed in
a voice ringing with pathos–, “deep in his heart, in his terrible
need, in his dreadful despair and unquenchable thirst for revenge
he suddenly thought about the strange experiments of his
Excellency, the genuine Privy Councilor, Professor, Doctor, ten
Brinken, the shining light of science.

The young handsome prince, now in the spring
of his life, still remembered well his golden boyhood and the good
old gentleman that looked after him when he had whooping cough and
that sent him bon-bons when he was sick–There he sits, Alma. Look
at him, the instrument of the unlucky prince’s revenge!”

He waved with grand gestures toward his
uncle.

“That worthy Gentleman there,” he continued,
“has in his time advanced medical knowledge many miles. You know
how children come into the world Alma, and you also know how they
are created. But you don’t know the secret mysteries of life that
this benefactor of humanity has discovered! He knows how to create
children without the mother and father ever seeing each other! The
noble prince would be at peace in his dungeon or at rest in his
fresh grave knowing that you, dear girl, with the good help of this
old gentleman and under the expert care of this good Doctor
Petersen will become the mother of his child.”

Alma looked across over at the Privy
Councilor. She didn’t like this sudden shift, this weird
transformation of turning a handsome wellborn prince into an old
and very ugly professor. It didn’t appeal to her at all.

Frank Braun noticed as well and began a new
line of persuasion, trying to get her to think of something
else.

“Naturally the prince’s child, Anna, your
child, must remain hidden after it comes into this world. He must
remain hidden until he is fully-grown to protect him from the
persecution and intrigue of his evil family–Naturally he would be a
prince, just like his father.”

“My child would be a prince?” she
whispered.

“Yes, of course,” he confirmed. “Or maybe a
princess. That is something we can not know. It will inherit the
castle, the grounds and several millions in money. But you will not
be permitted to force yourself on him and compromise
everything.”

That did it. Fat tears ran down her cheeks.
She was already in her role, feeling the grief and sorrow of having
to give up her beloved child. She was a prostitute, but her child
would be a prince! She couldn’t be in his life. She would have to
remain quiet, suffer and endure everything–for her child. It would
never know who its mother was.

A heavy sob seized her, shook her entire
body. She threw herself over the table, buried her head in her arms
and wept bitterly.

Tenderly, almost lovingly he laid his hand on
her neck softly stroking her wild loose hair. He could taste the
sugar water in the lemonade that he had mixed as well and took her
very seriously in this moment.

“Magdalena,” he whispered to her.
“Magdalena–”