The Maya Codex (16 page)

Deep in thought, von Heißen got up from behind his desk and stood at the window, absent-mindedly looking towards the quarry where the Jewish scum were already at work. He was convinced that if Weizman still had the figurine, he would have almost certainly hidden it in his strongbox. It was safe to assume the jade statue was still in the jungles of Guatemala, and therefore — His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

At five-foot nine, his adjutant, Hauptsturmführer Hans Brandt, only just cleared the SS height restrictions, but Brandt was well-connected and what the fair-haired, oval-faced, olive-skinned Aryan captain lacked in height, he made up for in ambition and naked ruthlessness.

‘Kommen Sie!’

‘The Jew is outside, Herr Kommandant, and I’ve been advised that Reichsführer Himmler’s car is approaching Mauthausen. He will arrive in just under half an hour.’

‘The guard is ready?’

‘Jawohl, Herr Kommandant
. I’ve inspected them personally. I’ve also been advised that Doktor Richtoff is accompanying the Reichsführer.’

‘Everything is ready for the doctor?’

Brandt nodded. ‘The technicians have finished installing the equipment, including the high-altitude pressure chamber, and Barrack Block 6 has been refurnished in accordance with Doktor Richtoff’s instructions.’

Von Heißen grunted. ‘Good. Bring the Jew in.’

‘Jawohl. Heil Hitler!’

‘Herr Professor, I’m told that your apartment has been thoroughly searched and there is no sign of the figurine. So where is it?’ Von Heißen put his question very slowly, his voice ominously calm.

‘I’ve already told you —’

‘Liar!’ Von Heißen lashed Levi with his cane. Levi gasped and stifled a cry.

‘Filthy Jewish liar!’ Von Heißen whipped Levi’s face again, smashing his glasses. ‘Where is it?’ Von Heißen was shouting now, lashing at him uncontrollably. Levi’s eyes watered, and he fought against the searing pain.

Von Heißen wondered again if the Jewish archaeologist might be telling the truth, but the moment was fleeting. ‘And what does this map mean?’ von Heißen asked, picking up the
huun
bark from his desk.

‘It’s nothing more than a small boy’s drawing,’ Levi answered defiantly, his knees starting to wobble.

‘You’re lying!’ Von Heißen turned towards his adjutant. ‘Have the guards take him away and when the Reichsführer has left, Sturmscharführer Schmidt can take him to the parachute jump.’ As powerful as von Heißen had become, he knew he would have to seek approval from Himmler himself before he disposed of the Jewish professor.

‘Achtung!’
The guard of honour came to attention and saluted as an armoured car, followed by a new black BMW staff car, with a silver eagle and swastika pennant fluttering above the bonnet, swept through Mauthausen’s gates. The staff car bore the registration plates: SS1. Von Heißen snapped to attention, right arm outstretched as the SS Commander alighted.

‘Heil Hitler, Herr Reichsführer. Wilkommen zum Mauthausen.’

A hundred metres away, in the middle of the quarry, Ramona, Ariel and Rebekkah struggled to lift a large rock into one of the hoppers. Levi moved to help them and he winced in pain as an SS guard hit him with his rifle butt.

‘Try to pick smaller ones,
meine Lieblings,’
Levi whispered. He turned and felt a cold shiver run down his spine as Reichsführer Himmler, accompanied by Obersturmbannführer von Heißen, appeared at the railing of the nearest watchtower. Suddenly a squad of SS guards doubled towards the quarry, rifles at the carry. At the far end of the quarry a line of marching prisoners, all in black-and-grey striped garb, were suddenly halted and ordered to turn to face the cliff.

A rifle shot echoed around the quarry, and the prisoner on the far left of the line crumpled to the ground, her face blown away by a bullet to the back of the head. Ramona fainted and Ariel and Rebekkah started to cry, cowering behind the hopper. For the next hour and a half the quarry reverberated to the crackle of rifle fire as every two minutes a Jew was shot in the back of the head in honour of the Führer’s birthday.

Von Heißen watched Himmler’s car disappear through Mauthausen’s main gate before turning to walk back towards the quarry. It had been a very successful day. The Führer’s birthday celebrations had gone very well, and Himmler had personally congratulated von Heißen on the efficiency of the camp. It was, Himmler said, the main reason Mauthausen had been chosen for Doctor Richtoff’s top-secret medical experiments. The Reichsführer had even intimated that all going well, another promotion was in the offing. Standartenführer! Von Heißen could almost see the oak leaves on his collar. He felt a surge of pride and whacked his boots with his cane as he walked along the path leading to the top of the quarry cliff. He looked back towards the gates of the prisoner compound where, as per his instructions, the Weizman woman and her offspring had been chained to one of the stone towers. Good, he mused, feeling a rising sense of satisfaction. From there they, too, would be able to see the quarry.

Schmidt shoved Levi over the rough ground towards the steps. ‘There are 186 steps, Jew, and you’re going to climb every one of them.’

Levi glanced back to where Ramona and the children were chained to the stone tower. Ramona’s eyes were full of fear.

‘Pick up that rock!’ Schmidt shouted when they reached the narrow stone staircase leading up to a high granite outcrop overlooking the quarry. ‘On your shoulders, Jew man!’ Schmidt’s jowls were crimson now and a strong stench of garlic assailed Levi. He heaved the heavy rock onto his right shoulder.

‘
Jetzt lauf!
Now run!’

Ramona, her hands chained to an iron ring in the wall behind her head, watched in horror as Levi struggled to climb the staircase, a massive rock teetering on his shoulder.

Schmidt turned to two young guards. ‘You know what to do. Follow him!’

The taller of the two guards bounded up the stairs and yelled in Levi’s ear. ‘Come on, Jew, you’re not even halfway yet!’

Levi’s knees buckled under the weight of the granite boulder. He staggered and fell to the ground, and the other guard smashed a rifle against his ribcage.

‘Get up, Jewish pig! I don’t want to be here all fucking night!’ Levi levered himself to his feet and hoisted the boulder back onto his shoulders, closing his mind to the searing pain in his ribs.

‘What are they doing to Papa, Mama?’ Rebekkah sobbed, her hands chained high above her head.

Levi rasped for breath and glanced ahead of him, not daring to stop. Ten steps to go. Nearing exhaustion, he staggered over the very last step and let the boulder fall at his feet.

‘Who gave you permission to drop the rock?’ The taller guard swung his rifle butt into the small of Levi’s back. Levi fell face-first onto the rocks, breaking his nose and two of his teeth. ‘Get up!’

Levi got to one knee, coughing blood and fragments of teeth.

One of the guards looked at his watch. ‘We’re losing fucking drinking time up here, Günther!’

‘
Ja
. Get up, you Jewish shit!’ Günther snarled, kicking Levi in the stomach. Levi stumbled forward onto a large flat rock that overlooked the quarry. A hundred metres below a jagged outcrop of granite extended from the cliff base to where the prisoners, their ribcages clearly visible, were quarrying stone with picks and shovels. Levi looked up to the left and a chill ran through him. The unmistakeable figure of von Heißen was silhouetted against the fading light.

Levi shuffled back, but he was shoved violently from behind.

Ramona watched in horror as Levi tumbled over the cliff, his arms flailing wildly. His scream pierced her very soul as he bounced off a rock halfway down, before smashing into the jagged granite at the base of the cliff.

‘That’s what happens when you criticise the Reich!’ Schmidt shouted at the prisoners in the quarry. ‘Now get back to work or you’ll be next!’

Von Heißen’s batman and the chief steward, the latter holding a large crystal glass of Glenfiddich on a silver tray, were standing at the ready, just inside the heavy cedar doors of the officers’ mess. Flags of the Third Reich and the SS were mounted on one of the stone walls, and the bar had been decorated with a large gold eagle.

‘
Meine Herren. Der Kommandant!
’ Hauptsturmführer Brandt sprang out of his chair to announce von Heißen’s arrival, and the other officers followed suit. Von Heißen handed his cane and cap to his batman and relieved the steward of the crystal tumbler.

‘Hans, come and join us,’ von Heißen commanded his adjutant, waving his hand towards an empty leather lounge chair beside Doctor Richtoff’s. ‘
Ein Bier?
’

‘
Danke schön, Herr Kommandant
.’

Von Heißen looked towards the bar and snapped his fingers.

‘So, Eduard, everything is in order?’ von Heißen asked, turning towards Richtoff.

Richtoff nodded. The SS doctor’s skin was milky white. His spiky grey hair was cut short above his high, square forehead, and pale-green eyes peered from beneath bushy black brows. ‘It appears to be, Karl. The equipment is being tested as we speak. We should be able to start our experiments tomorrow.’

‘What is it that you’re testing for, Herr Doktor?’ Hans asked.

‘The SS is to set the standards for the new Reich, Hauptsturmführer. The Mauthausen experiments are aimed at producing a new German elite – a human embryo that combines leader, scholar, warrior and administrator all in one. You will forgive me, gentlemen, but you are not perfect.’

‘But a good start, Doktor,’ von Heißen responded, signalling the steward to refill his glass.

‘The experiments are also designed to provide data that may help with the conditioning of our troops for possible service on the Eastern Front.’

‘How will you achieve that?’ Brandt asked, keen to know how the German race might be perfected.

‘Your
Kommandant
has kindly undertaken to provide me with fit specimens, both male and female. In the first experiment we’ll strip them naked and put them in ice vats to discover how long it takes them to die. Of course, during the winter it will be easier,’ Richtoff added, coughing, ‘because we can just leave them naked in an outdoor cage to see how long they last. In the second experiment we’ll lower the temperature to a point where most of them die, and from the remainder, we’ll see which ones can be resuscitated. We’ve already done some testing in Auschwitz, where we forced iced water into their intestines … but all of them died. Unfortunately that method doesn’t seem to have much promise.’ Richtoff reached for his beer.

‘And the pressure tank? What’s that for?’ Brandt asked.

‘Low-pressure simulation of an oxygen-thin environment,’ Richtoff replied. ‘Your
Kommandant,
being a qualified high-altitude diver, knows quite a bit about this.’

‘It’s been a while now,’ von Heißen replied.

‘We’ve also tested this at Auschwitz,’ Richtoff continued, ‘but in Mauthausen we’re planning to use women as well as men. The human body functions best at sea level, where the bloodstream is saturated with oxygen, but at altitudes above 15 000 feet, the oxygen levels are halved and the body needs to acclimatise. At Auschwitz we found that most subjects died once the altitude simulation reached 23 000 feet. At that height it’s difficult to sleep and the digestion system breaks down. But one lasted past 25 000 feet and we’ve kept his organs for further analysis.’