Once We Were Brothers (10 page)

“It’s Ben. I got a big problem.”

“You need me to come back?”

“Yeah. Apartment 1708.”

The doorman buzzed them through and they took the elevator to the seventeenth floor, where they found Ben standing in the hallway outside his open door.

The apartment had been torn asunder. Bureau drawers were overturned, their contents scattered. Kitchen appliances and pots and pans lay on the floor. The bedroom closet had been emptied of its contents and piles of hangers and pants and coats were tossed about in rumpled heaps.

Thirty minutes later two investigators and an evidence technician from the Belmont District headquarters arrived and surveyed the mess. They dusted for prints and took pictures. One of them took a statement from Ben as he leaned against his kitchen wall, shaking his head at the disarray.

“Are any valuables missing?” Catherine said.

“Like what? What’s a valuable to you?”

“Jewelry. Money. Silver. Collectibles.”

“Nothing that would attract burglars. Anything in this apartment has value only to me. These weren’t thieves, they were Nazis looking for evidence.”

“Evidence?”

“Of course. That I might have on Piatek. Or, something they could later use to discredit me in my lawsuit.”

“Are there such things? Do you have such evidence?”

“I have notes.” Ben picked up the open cardboard cigar box that had previously held his gun and showed it to Catherine. “They’re gone. The notes are gone.”

“Tell me about the notes, Ben,” Liam said. “Where did they come from?”

“I made them from my memory over the past several days, to help me tell my story. About twenty pages or so.”

“Were there any references to Catherine or her law firm? Did you write about a lawsuit?”

“I think so. I probably noted that a certain person would make a good witness or that we should seek out evidence from Rosenzweig’s house or something like that. I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Did you make a copy?”

“No.”

Ben stood in the midst of his strewn apartment. “Damn. They sure beat the hell out of this place.”

A Chicago Police Department evidence technician approached them. “There’s no sign of forced entry. We lifted some prints, we have some fibers, but I don’t know if anything’ll come of it.”

He handed a CPD card to Ben on his way out. “Sergeant Quinlan will be following the case.”

“We’ll help you put your apartment back together, Ben,” Catherine said.

“No thanks,” he said, slowly shaking his head. His bearing seemed to wither. “I’d prefer to do it alone.”

He righted a tipped chair and sat down with his face in his hands. “You two can go now. Thanks for coming back.”

“Double lock the doors, Ben.” Liam started to leave and stopped at the door. “One more thing. How many ways are there to get into this building?”

“Well, there’s the front desk, the way you came in, and there’s a back door with a delivery dock that the maintenance guys use.”

“Do the tenants have a key to the back door?”

“No. There’s no reason to go out the back. There’s no parking or anything.”

* * *

They drove for a while, Liam drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Well, what do you make of all of this, Cat? Do you still think he’s crazy?”

“What do I make of it? I know his apartment was ransacked but I’m not going to jump to any wild conclusions, like Nazis were responsible. It could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been kids, drug addicts or petty thieves.”

“Or Otto Piatek?”

“Oh, come on. An eighty-three-year-old man drove over here, slipped by security, broke into the apartment and tore it up without being noticed?”

“Rosenzweig is wealthy enough to get it done.”

“And so is Bill Gates. But I have no more proof that it was Elliot Rosenzweig than I do it was Bill Gates. Which brings me to another issue. I’ve listened to Ben for days, and I grant you, it’s a very moving story, but I have yet to hear a single piece of evidence that would tie Rosenzweig to Piatek. And I have repeatedly raised the subject. All it does is unsettle him.”

“You have to be patient. I’m sure he’ll get there.”

“Oh, I’m certain that if I devoted enough time and listened long enough, he’d eventually finish his story. Maybe I should just give up my job and take notes for the next two years. But you know what – at the end of that time, it would still come down to proof. What proof can he produce, what evidence is there that Rosenzweig is Piatek?”

“You know as well as I that his apartment was torn up because of his accusations. This was no coincidence. These weren’t kids or addicts, Cat. They were professionals. They were looking to see what he had. In your heart you know he’s right. We just have to help him get the proof.”

“You saw his apartment. There’s nothing there. How does he find proof from sixty years ago when he doesn’t have anything?”

“He had notes.”

“That’s not evidence, that’s his memory. And even if his notes weren’t taken or weren’t misplaced somewhere, they wouldn’t be admissible in any courtroom in America.”

“Please hear him out. Just a little longer. Like you said the other day, there’s something much deeper here. Do it for me. I’ll get you the proof. Cat, after all these years, they’re still violating him.”

Catherine stared straight ahead. “I can’t do it much longer, Liam.”

Chapter Fourteen

Ben spoke softly when he arrived the next morning. “I spent most of the night trying to put my home back together.”

Catherine nodded sympathetically and poured him a cup of tea. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But before we get started, I need to tell you that I have a hearing scheduled today at two p.m., which may continue through tomorrow. We can work until noon and if we don’t finish, we can get together on Friday.”

Ben shook his head. “I can’t meet on Friday. I have somewhere I have to be.”

“Is that because it’s the Sabbath?”

“Well, it is
Erev Shabbat
, but that’s not the reason. I have a standing commitment on Friday afternoons.”

“Then we only have a couple of hours and if you’re up to it, I’d like to forge ahead. Perhaps we can focus on how Otto took your property and how we can prove that Mr. Rosenzweig is really Otto Piatek.”

Ben took a sip of tea. “I don’t know if I can do that in two hours. I’ll do the best I can.”

Zamość, Poland 1939

“It was the summer of ‘39, a warm Saturday evening, and we were enjoying dinner with friends and family – Hannah and her parents, my aunt and uncle, Beka, Otto. We had just finished dessert and were sitting in the living room when we heard a knock on the door, a soft knock, like whoever it was didn’t want to alert anyone but us. My father looked at us, shrugged his shoulders and went to open the door. There stands Otto’s mother, Ilse, dressed in a dark cotton cloak. The hood is pulled up over her blond hair to hide most of her face. She’s a pretty woman, with her curled hair and her high cheek bones. Dark red lipstick.

“‘May I come in, please, Mr. Solomon,’ she says softly. ‘I need to speak to you.’

“Father brings her into the living room and introduces her to the group. Ilse is unnerved. She doesn’t expect to encounter so many people. She backs up a step or two, pulls my father’s sleeve and leans over to whisper to him.

“‘I really shouldn’t be here,’ she says. ‘May I speak to you in private?’

“‘Whatever you have to say to me you may say to all of us. This is my family.’

“She looks around the room, at each of us, and realizes she has no choice. She removes her cloak and hands it to my father. Her surprise visit knocks Otto a bit off- balance. He is mute as he stands and offers his chair. Everyone is quiet. Why does Ilse come to speak to my father? We haven’t seen her in over a year. As far as we know, she’s still working for the Nazis in Germany.

“‘You must let me take Otto back to Germany,’ she says. ‘And as for you and your family, you must leave Poland immediately. You don’t have much time.’

“She says this like a pronouncement. It’s a
fait accompli
. Like she knows what’s best for us and she’s made the decision and we should obey without question.

“But Otto says, ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ve just finished school and I’m preparing for the university.’

“Ilse pauses. She purses her lips and ponders whether or not she should continue. Finally she speaks. ‘Let’s not deceive one another, Mr. Solomon. I have no love for you or the Jews. I care only for my son. I also know you have no reason to believe that I’m telling you the truth but be assured I’ve come here at great personal risk.’

“My father stands in the center of the room with his arms crossed on his chest. ‘I think you should leave now, Mrs. Piatek. Otto is free to make his own choices. We heard what you had to say. Certainly Otto may go with you if that’s his wish.’

“‘Why would I go with her?’ Otto says. ‘Everything I care about is here in Zamość. Thanks to you and Aunt Leah, I have the opportunity to go to the university and become a professional. I’m going to stay here, in Poland, where I belong.’ He walks over to my father. They stand side by side, two strong men, standing tall. And I’m so proud.

“Ilse scoffs. ‘Listen to me. You are all fools. Poland is history. Germany will overrun Poland within months.’ She waves her arm at all of us. ‘If you insist on staying here, you’re already dead.’

“‘Oh, such nonsense,’ Dr. Weissbaum says, passing it off with a shake of his head. ‘This is just more German arrogance. We are not Austria. Poland will live for a thousand years.’

“Father, as usual, is more prone to reason and he responds with diplomacy. ‘We’ve listened quite regularly to Hitler’s broadcasts. We’re trying to be ready for any eventuality and this is a situation we continually reassess, but right now things are stable here and the children are preparing to enter the university in Lublin.’

“Ilse wrings her hands and begins to sob. ‘There will be no university. There will be no Poland. Why won’t you listen to me?’ Her emotional breakdown softens the timbre of the room and melts some of the antagonism. Mother hands her a tissue, but Otto is unmoved. He shakes his head and starts to leave the room. Father stops him.

“‘Mrs. Piatek,’ Father says, ‘we’ll listen to you but I’d like to know what brings you to our home on this particular day? You’ve been absent from Otto’s life for so long and Europe has been on the brink of conflict for many months. So why come to Poland at this time and why do you say you’ve come at great personal risk?’

“‘I’m here to save my Otto,’ she says through her tears, ‘and to make amends. None of you can know the anguish of abandoning your only child. Six years ago, I had hit the bottom. I fled from my senses. I left the only thing I loved and returned to Germany, to the home of my relatives. After a while, they helped me find work as a secretary for the National Socialists.

“‘I worked my way up the ladder, doing whatever I had to, and was eventually assigned to Reinhard Heydrich. I’m sure you know who he is. Well, I am his personal secretary. I get information every day, tiny swatches you understand, but I put them together and when I do...all I can say is: it’s urgent to get Otto out of Poland.’

“Otto doesn’t buy into her remorse. ‘Uncle Abraham asked you: what is your great personal risk?’

“She looks directly at my father. ‘If I am discovered here, if Reinhard had the slightest idea that I came to Poland, I would be tortured for the information I gave you and then killed. Without a second thought. And so will all of you if you stay here.’

“‘What do you know, Mother, about the Nazi plans for Poland?’ asks Otto.

“‘I should not say, both for your protection and mine.’

“‘Then get out.’

“She begs, she pleads, but Otto is steadfast and refuses to listen unless she is willing to divulge what she has learned. Finally, in her hysteria, she relents.

“‘In April, I helped prepare some of the documents which were later called Case White. They were top secret and I did not see them all, nor have I seen them in final form. But I know that Case White calls for a surprise invasion of Poland with sudden, heavy blows. The high command of the Armed Forces, the OKW, has been instructed to draw up plans to carry out the operation at any time after September first.’

“We are all stunned. ‘That’s two weeks away,’ Father exclaims.

“She nods. ‘Hitler’s waiting for Stalin to assure him that Russia won’t come to Poland’s aid. Reinhard believes that assurance will come next week. Ribbentrop is in Moscow now. There are telegrams daily. Hitler expects a non-aggression pact to be signed and announced by next Wednesday, and if it is, Poland will be history by the end of September. Otto, please, you can’t be here when the bombs fall. As for you, Mr. Solomon, I am indebted to you for the kindness you’ve shown to my son and so I warn you to get out of the country. You’ve seen the fate of Jews in German occupied lands.’

“‘I’m not going,’ Otto says. ‘If they come, I’ll stay and fight.’

“Otto’s rebuff is too much for Ilse. She covers her face with her hands and weeps loudly.