The Reich Device (4 page)

It was an impressive CV. It also explained why Kessler was in Leipzig. What could be more appropriate than a member of your own personal bodyguard to arrange your security? Kessler was responsible for the Führer’s security during public engagements in Leipzig. That inevitably gave him certain latitudes with the natives, but how much? Was the brutality and murder in Leipzig just sanctioned by Berlin? How much of it was Kessler?

The grey man got an answer to his question, with sudden movement at the side of the building.

A blood-soaked body fell into the back of a truck, and in plain view of the public. Brutality and fear were the tools of Kessler’s trade. With the finances at his disposal, Kessler could dish out a fair chunk of misery to the masses. The gun sight zoomed back to Kessler’s office – the grey man might have pulled the trigger – only Kessler wasn’t there.

‘Another time my friend, another time… ’ The grey man always kept a promise.

M
ayer paced up and down the study. The situation had changed dramatically in the last forty-eight hours. ‘Albert, I think I was followed! It may not be safe for me, or for you!’

‘Oh, you worry too much, that does not seem likely. Who would want to follow you?’ Einstein gave a reassuring shrug, palms upwards.

‘I don’t know… well, I am not exactly sure, perhaps you are right.’

‘You know I am making sense, Gustav, relax… please,’ Einstein smiled.

Mayer shook his head. ‘Things seem out of kilter and you’ve heard the rumours… ’

‘Rumours?’

‘Yes, people are disappearing… ’ Mayer paced even faster, ‘… and there are more sentries on the campus.
It is
dangerous for me.’ He stopped and gave Einstein a hard stare.

Einstein shook his head. ‘No, people are inherently good. Gustav, trust me on this, it cannot be as bad as you imagine.’

‘Albert, but
it is
! Look at the evidence, the increased security is everywhere. Then there’s this new Enabling Law – the Nazis have the legal power to detain anyone without recourse… and for as long as they see fit! I say again, people
are
disappearing and we could be next!’

‘You really think so? Give me a concrete example.’

‘Oh, there are plenty! I heard only yesterday about the construction of a labour camp! In the forests – near here! Something about detaining certain criminal elements… ’

‘No, this cannot be. Exactly who are these criminal elements, and what forests? These are just rumours. Surely, just rumours?’ Einstein shifted awkwardly in his chair; maybe his friend was starting to make sense.

‘Wait a minute. Have you seen Nico, my technician?’

‘Not for a few days, but then I’ve been working here. Why?’

‘It’s just unusual. I’d arranged to meet him this morning to go through our most recent experiments, but he didn’t arrive.’

‘So? Maybe he was just late?’

‘Albert, I don’t think so, Nico is never late. Besides, he would normally leave a telephone message if he was behind schedule.’

‘So call him.’ Einstein gestured towards the phone on the desk.

‘Do you think I should?’

‘Why not? Perhaps it will put your mind at ease?’ Einstein raised an eyebrow.

‘Alright, I will.’

Mayer picked up the receiver and dialled the number. Static filled his ears.

‘I can’t get through… ’ Mayer tapped the mouthpiece. ‘I… I… can’t get anything… ’ He rattled his index finger on the receiver, white noise crackled down the line. Mayer rang zero. ‘Hello… hello… operator?’

‘Yes sir,’ an efficient female voice spoke back.

‘Get me Leipzig, four, seven, two, please.’ Mayer stared with a blank expression towards Einstein.

Einstein sat back in his chair, with his arms folded.

More static.

‘I am sorry sir, the line is disconnected,’ the female voice replied.

Mayer gently replaced the handset. ‘There’s no answer. His number’s been cut off.’

‘You jump to conclusions, perhaps he is visiting a relative?’

‘No Albert, I don’t think so.’

The phone suddenly rang. Mayer picked it up with lightning speed.

‘Hello?’

A brisk German voice cleared the line. ‘A call was just made to Leipzig four, seven, two, from this number. What business do you have… ’

Mayer hung up, sweat seeped onto his brow.

‘They have him!’

‘What?’ Einstein unfolded his arms.

‘The authorities!’ Mayer gulped.

‘It’s probably something minor, I am sure they’ll let him go.’

‘No! Likely as not, he is already dead! He is Jewish. You know the Nazis are discriminating against some ethnic groups. The Jews, the Poles… ’

‘… and the Germans?’ Einstein finished for him. ‘No, I just don’t believe one human being could do that to another.’

‘I wish I shared your faith in humanity, Albert, but I don’t.’

‘Look, there’s nothing you can do right now. It is best to wait.’

‘I suppose so… ’ Mayer looked at the floor.

Einstein stood, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘We should wait… at least until the end of the day. There’s nothing to be done until then.’ Einstein spoke gently.

‘I guess you are right.’ Mayer rubbed his eyes.

‘That’s the spirit Gustav,’ Einstein patted him on the shoulder. ‘Well, Gustav, I see you have finished your manuscript!’ Einstein made a poor attempt at changing the subject.

‘Yes… yes, I have. Well, at least what I think is a robust draft; but it needs a lot of checking.’ Mayer spoke with humble modesty.

Einstein sat back at the desk, turning the pages, scanning through each one for a few seconds to build up a mental picture of the layout and content. ‘Gustav, it looks good,’ Einstein smiled. ‘I tell you what; why don’t we go through it now?’

Mayer nodded gratefully, and pulled up a chair.

Commandant Kessler stepped from the Daimler into the mud. He glanced disdainfully at the glutinous detritus that squelched onto the pristine black leather of his boots, and buttoned his overcoat against the morning chill. The brand new chain mail fence, sporting fresh rolls of barbed wire, was at odds with the squalor in the rest of the work camp. Soldiers barked orders at the inmates as they hurried with buckets of cement and lengths of timber. The camp was evidently still under construction. A whiff of excrement, rank urine, and the foul body odour of the prisoners drifted on the breeze. Kessler lit up a cigarette to mask the smell, and took a long drag.

‘What a fucking shithole. Are you sure this Nico van der Kemp is here?’ Kessler took another gasp of his smoke.

‘Yes, Commandant. He is here. The duty log back at the police station indicates that one Nico van der Kemp was arrested yesterday morning and, along with some other ethnics, delivered here in the afternoon.’ The detective shoved his hands into the pockets of his cheap suit in an effort to keep them warm. He ignored the freezing, wet mud seeping over the top of his regular shoes, and regretted his lack of a warm coat; but decided to say nothing about the somewhat impromptu visit to the camp.

A stocky trooper plodded through the mud towards them, with a German shepherd straining at the leash.

‘About bloody time, let’s get on with it!’ Kessler took a quick drag on his cigarette, and exhaled sharply.

‘Good morning Herr Commandant, welcome. We were not expecting you.’ The dog suddenly jumped forward with a snarl. The trooper gave a sharp tug to bring the dog to heel.

Kessler eyed the dog up and down, and returned a menacing look to the trooper. ‘You have a political prisoner here. He arrived in a batch yesterday afternoon. His name is Nico van der Kemp; take me to him.’

The dog pulled again at the handler’s arm; the trooper held firm. ‘Arrived yesterday you say? The fresh ones we put on heavy duties. He’ll be digging foundations for the barracks. This way Commandant, sir.’

The trooper wheeled about, and trudged back towards the various buildings that were under construction. Some were near completion with roofs in place and wooden cladding being secured to the walls. Others were simply concrete plinths, waiting for the timber frames to be made. A stack of timber punctuated the site, a barrel of hot tar stood burning near one of the less complete buildings. Kessler and the detective kept a discrete distance from the snarls of their canine friend.

The trooper suddenly stopped at the edge of a concrete foundation. Groups of prisoners were busy nailing together timber to make sections of the frame for the hut under construction. Curls of black smoke drifted across from the adjacent barrel of tar.

‘Nico van der Kemp,’ the trooper shouted, ‘which one of you is Nico van der Kemp?!’

The gang of bodies stopped working momentarily. A voice piped up from the middle of the group. ‘I am van der Kemp.’ Nico stood upright, putting his cement-covered spade to one side. He jumped down off the plinth and slid a few paces across the gloop, his clothes were already filthy and torn from the labour. He stopped in front of the trooper and took off his cloth cap.

‘I am van der Kemp, sir,’ he repeated.

Kessler flicked his eyes over the inmate, taking in every detail as he dragged on the last of his cigarette. ‘Nico van der Kemp? You worked for Professor Mayer at the University of Leipzig?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Nico began to shiver, suddenly registering the cold through the remains of his brown woollen shirt. His black trousers were ripped at the knees, revealing a congealed wound on one of the kneecaps. Bruises marked his face.

Kessler revelled in the prisoner’s discomfort, but kept a blank expression. ‘You are a Jew and have spoken out against the Party?’

‘Sir, no I… ’

Kessler slapped him hard across the face. ‘Did I give you permission to speak?!’ He abruptly punched the inmate in the gut.

Nico curled up towards the floor, holding his gut and gasping for breath. Suddenly, Kessler gave a well-placed kick with his heel, sending Nico sprawling face first in the mud. The dog snarled.

Kessler flicked his spent cigarette end at the prisoner. ‘Now answer, yes or no. Did you work for Professor Mayer?’ He rammed a boot home into the side of Nico’s ribs.

‘Argghh! Yes! Yes!’ Nico squirmed onto his back trying to fight the pain.

Kessler placed a boot on his chest, pinning him to the floor.

‘Fucking marvellous! An intellectual Jew!’

The trooper and detective laughed nervously.

‘Your Professor Mayer has been seen working very late at the University. What is so interesting to keep him at his desk half the night?’

‘Err… I don’t know, sir. He simply likes his work… ’

Kessler interrupted with his boot. ‘Indeed, as you can see, I enjoy my work!’ He gave another kicking. ‘But, I don’t spend half the night in my office!’

‘Arghh! Please, sir! I don’t know, we are just physicists.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know!’ Kessler suddenly grabbed Nico by the scruff and dragged him towards the barrel of tar. The trooper and detective followed, casting glances between each other.

‘You are all the bloody same! Too intellectual for your own good! Well, not any more!’ He dumped Nico unceremoniously against the side of the hot barrel.

‘Arghh!’ A splash of the scolding liquid spilt over the lip of the barrel, catching Nico’s right hand. He cushioned the wound with his left, hyperventilating against the searing pain.

‘Why is Mayer working so late?!’

‘Please, sir! I don’t know, some new calculations! Really, I don’t know!’

Kessler gave his companions a withering look. ‘Hold him down.’

‘What?’ The detective struggled to compute the request.

‘Hold him down! Open his shirt!’

The detective glanced nervously at the trooper, then back at Kessler. ‘Commandant… I… ’

‘Get on with it!’

The subordinates duly complied by heaving their victim onto the edge of the nearest pile of wood. They ripped open his shirt, and each held an arm down across a convenient length of timber with their heels. The dog jumped and snapped at the prisoner. The trooper only just held the dog short of its target.

Kessler picked up a bucket of tar and a brush from the side of the barrel. Acrid smoke drifted from the vessel, heat radiated from the tar-encrusted metal bucket. He walked slowly towards the prisoner, making a theatrical show of dipping the brush into the volcanically hot liquid. He knelt on a log, being careful to keep his distance from the canine, and dangled the brush over Nico’s chest.

The handler pulled the dog to heel.

‘Let me refresh your memory.’

‘No, please! I… No! Please!’

Kessler dabbed the brush onto bare flesh.

‘Arghh! Arghhh!’

The tar set quickly, cooking the underlying pectoral muscle. Kessler dipped the brush again, applying it to the other side of the Jew’s chest.

‘No! Arghhhh! Arghhhh!’ Nico bucked violently.

‘What is your Professor doing?’

‘I don’t know! Arghhh! Probably some calculations on fuels! His normal work!’

Kessler shook his head and wiped the hot brush across his victim’s stomach.

‘Arghh! Arghh!’ Nico thrashed.

Kessler waited for the pain to take full effect, then continued. ‘Now, last chance… what is so interesting about Professor Mayer’s work? Why is he so busy? Why is he meeting colleagues in the middle of the night?!’

He dabbed the brush again.

‘Arghh! Arghh! I don’t know! Christ! I would tell you if I did! But I just don’t know!’ Nico sobbed.

Kessler weighted up the response. It was a lot of pain, and most would have talked freely by now. Perhaps the young prodigy really didn’t know what his boss was up to? It seemed that way. But what should he do with the young scientist? It would be easy to dispatch him now.

Kessler gave the brush a good coating in the boiling tar, and moved towards Nico’s face.

‘No! No, please! I’ll do anything… anything at all!’ Nico bucked, but was unable to break free. Kessler grabbed his chin, holding the brush firmly over his eye, he paused.

On the other hand, this Jew might be useful in the short term, and he could always kill him later. How many men had he murdered? He could not remember – save the first one – his own father. The old man had it coming, and died fairly easily for a war hero. He could still feel his father’s blood-soaked iron cross turning over in his hand. It had been a pivotal moment: from that day he’d wanted an iron cross of his own.