The Defeated Aristocrat (18 page)

‘I’m not Jewish. An invitation would be an honour.’

‘Of course we want you to be there, and Ralf, Peter and his wife, and Helmut …’

‘If you’re inviting Helmut, the thought of marriage must have softened your brains. What’s her name?’

‘Sarah.’

Wolf perched on the edge of the desk. ‘Tell me about her?’

‘Her father owns Becker the baker’s. She manages one of their shops. She has three sisters and two brothers, at eighteen she’s the oldest and wait until you see her, Wolf, she’s stunning with dark hair and eyes – she’s a brilliant musician, plays piano like an angel and she can cook …’

‘You knew her before the war?’ Wolf interrupted.

Josef hesitated and Wolf knew he was choosing his words carefully lest he give offence. ‘Our ways must seem odd to you, but this is how marriages have always been arranged in my family. The parents look for someone they think will make a suitable husband or wife for their child, introduce the prospective bride and groom and …’ Josef fumbled for further explanation.

‘Wait for soppy looks to appear on the happy couple’s faces?’ Wolf suggested. ‘I wish you well, Josef. As for Jewish ways and customs, if I’d left the selection of a wife up to the woman who brought me up she’d never have allowed me to marry Gretel.’

‘I heard about your brother and your wife. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Wolf slapped him across the shoulders. ‘A divorce leaves me free to find someone else. You said Sarah has sisters?’ When Josef didn’t answer Wolf said, ‘That was meant as a joke. I know your people frown on mixed marriages. So, we’ve not only your wedding to look forward to, but the party in Ralf’s a week tonight. We’ll make it your bachelor party.’

‘Come to the house first, meet my father, mother, sisters, and brothers,’ Josef invited. ‘Or better still come for coffee and cake at six o’clock. All my family will be there. They want to meet you after everything I’ve told them about you. Bring Peter and his wife as well. Ralf too if he’ll come.’

‘Isn’t that your Shabbat?’

‘Shabbat ends on Saturday after three stars have appeared in the sky, and the nights draw in early. There’ll be more than three stars in the sky by six o’clock.’

‘Could be cloudy.’

‘They’ll still be there, just out of view.’

‘I love the way you people interpret your religious laws to suit yourselves.’

‘God wouldn’t have made us the way we are if he didn’t want us to exercise our initiative.’

‘I’m pleased for you, but there’s something you should know …’

‘That Gluck, Donkey-brain, and Anton von Braunsch have been murdered? Peter came in earlier to tell me,’ Josef explained. ‘I’d like to attend the funerals with you. Please accept my own and my family’s condolences to you and your sister on von Braunsch’s death. He was a good man – a good comrade.’

‘I feel I should be more upset but …’ Wolf bit his lips.

‘It’s not easy after having death as a bedfellow for the last five years.’

Wolf abruptly changed the subject. ‘You’re not the only one who needs new clothes.’

‘You could certainly do with a new shirt.’

‘And a new suit,’ Wolf added.

‘If I were you I’d hold off. I wouldn’t have ordered one if I hadn’t needed it for my wedding. No soldier has eaten properly in years. We’re all going to be putting on weight so anything that’s tailored now won’t fit in a few weeks.’

‘Possibly – possibly not, given the shortage of food.’

‘Things will get better.’

‘Given what the Allies are demanding in reparation I’m not so sure. In the meantime guide me to your linen shirts and toys.’

‘You want something for your son? Have you seen him?’

‘Yes, and he deserves the latest plaything that every boy wants.’

‘Toy soldiers and cannons that fire ball bearings. It’s all my younger brothers play with.’

‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that Heinrich would like a nice peaceful farm with lead animals. What do women want these days? I have two sisters, one sister-in-law, two nieces, and a foster mother who all deserve presents.’

‘Your brothers?’

‘They can make do with schnapps and cigars. But I do have a wedding present to buy.’

‘Now you’re embarrassing the groom.’

‘You’ll embarrass the guest more if you don’t give him a hint.’

‘An ashtray would be nice.’

‘Really!’ Wolf raised his eyebrows. ‘We’ll see. I should also buy a really nice present for my lawyer.’

‘That’s a first. A lawyer the client likes.’

‘I wouldn’t have any money to buy anything if it wasn’t for her.’

‘We have some embarrassingly large, outrageously expensive bottles of 4711 cologne in stock, which I happen to know you can afford and Johanna Behn uses. My father told me about your account. If it was any larger you’d own a floor of the store.’

Wolf looked through the glass panel in the wall. ‘If you’re offering, I’d prefer jewellery and silverware to men’s clothes.’

‘Always joking.’

‘Who’s joking? Come on, let’s go shopping.’

‘Before we go, Peter said something about the way the murder victims had been found that set me thinking.’

‘What?’

‘Do you remember Dolf Engels coming to you and demanding you court martial Helmut Norde and Luther Kappel?’

‘I remember refusing to do so.’

‘Which was commendable, but the man was rabid, almost foaming at the mouth.’

‘He was drunk.’

‘A drunk who threatened to emasculate and castrate both Helmut and Luther for succumbing to “unnatural sins”.’

Wolf couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the ugly incident. Then he realised it was just one of many unpalatable wartime events he’d succeeded in blocking from his mind. ‘Did you discuss this with Peter?’

‘I didn’t think of it until after he left the store.’

Wolf frowned. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with the kriminaldirektor.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that. The last thing I want to do is make a complaint about the ravings of a drunk –’

Wolf interrupted. ‘Unless that drunk has become a murderer.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Carriage House, Engels’s Brewery, Hoker Strasse, Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th 1919

‘This sauerkraut and bratwurst is good.’ Dolf heaped another sausage and ladleful of cabbage on Helmut’s plate.

‘No more! I never thought I’d say it after years of short rations, but my stomach is so full it’s protesting.’ Helmut moved his plate from Dolf’s reach.

‘I told the boy to tell Ralf I’d take the saucepan and plates back,’ Dolf said, ‘but I didn’t say tonight and the boy will have gone to ground at this time of night.’

‘I’ll take them back in the morning,’ Helmut offered. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Dolf.’

‘It’s by way of an apology,’ Dolf refilled Helmut’s tankard with beer and handed him the bottle of schnapps. ‘I behaved like an idiot back in France. I was drunk. If I hadn’t been I’d never have gone running to Colonel von Mau. He’s a good man. Convinced me a man’s private affairs are no one’s business but his own.’

‘I did wonder …’ Helmut fell silent, suddenly afraid of saying too much.

‘You were right to wonder. Unlike me, you had the courage to act on your inclinations. That’s why I was so angry.’

Helmut expected Dolf to make a move towards him but he didn’t.

‘Sorry to leave you but it’s time I went home. My father starts practising his lecture on “early to bed, early to rise” if I’m later than this, and my mother will be worrying.’

‘You’re sure they won’t mind me staying here?’ Helmut wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t already certain of Dolf’s answer. The office was as warm as Dolf had promised. The stove belched out heat and the sofa, although old and faded, was comfortable with an ample supply of cushions and rug.

‘They won’t know because my father never visits the stables, but he wouldn’t mind me putting up an old comrade here for a few days.’ Dolf stacked his plate on top of the saucepan the boy had brought from the Green Stork. ‘Don’t forget to stoke the stove before you sleep. Use as many logs as you like. My father gets them from my uncle’s farm. There are some old books in here that the clerk reads in between taking and dispatching orders.’ Dolf opened a cupboard beneath the desk and showed Helmut a pile of books and ancient magazines.

‘Thank you.’ Overwhelmed, Helmut choked on the words. ‘I won’t forget this.’

‘We old soldiers have to stick together. I’ll talk to my father about a job in the brewery. Even if there’s nothing at the moment, there might be soon. Try to eat that last sausage, I’d hate for it to go to waste. Stay in the warm. I’ll lock the doors behind me. If you want to leave for any reason there’s a spare set of keys in the top drawer of the desk. Lock the door behind you and if you don’t want to return, post them through the letterbox. There’s soap and towels in the cupboard in the washroom but no hot water. Boil the kettle on the stove if you want to shave. See you in the morning.’

There was a glass panel in the office door. Helmut watched Dolf walk past the waggons and the high gate that separated the stables from the carriage house. The hinges creaked when he opened a small door set to the side of the main entrance. Dolf stepped through and Helmut heard the lock click home.

The silence was punctuated by the scuffle of horses’ hooves moving over cobbled stalls. Helmut looked through the books and found a dog-eared copy of Theodore Storm’s
The Rider on the White Horse
. He set it on the sofa, arranged the cushions, lay down and pulled a thick rug over himself.

Gebaur Strasse, Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th 1919

‘Your Aunt Ludwiga has prepared a bedroom for you, it’s next to mine and has a connecting door so you can come in anytime you want to see me. Up the stairs, it’s the third door on the right.’ Wolf had collected so many parcels at Baumgarten’s that Josef had offered him the use of the store’s carriage. It was as well he’d had transport, as he had barely an hour to arrange the clothes and presents he’d bought for Heinrich and wash and change into one of his new shirts before leaving for the station in Martin’s carriage to pick up Martha, his son, and Pippi and her children.

They dropped Pippi and her children at Georg Hafen’s house before going on to Gebaur Strasse. Excited, Heinrich ran upstairs as soon as they walked through the door. His new bedroom had originally been a dressing room to the bedroom Ludwiga had given Wolf. The boy froze on the threshold.

Wolf was glad to drop the heavy trunk he was hauling on to the landing. ‘What’s the problem?’

Heinrich turned to him and Martha who’d followed them up the stairs. ‘Whose room is this?’

‘Yours,’ Wolf said.

‘But there’s a fort, soldiers, and clothes on the bed.’

‘I bought them for you today. If you don’t like them they can go back to the shop and you can choose something else.’

‘They’re for me?’ The boy’s eyes widened.

‘They’re yours, Heinrich, if you want them.’ Wolf glanced at Martha. Clearly the boy wasn’t used to presents.

‘Thank you.’ Heinrich clicked his heels and bowed.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ Wolf stopped himself from saying ‘I’m your father’ again. ‘This is your home now. I know it must be hard, leaving Lichtenhagen and everyone you know except Aunt Martha and coming to live with me and your uncle in a strange house.’

‘This house isn’t strange, I’ve visited Uncle Martin and Aunt Ludwiga lots of times. Haven’t I, Auntie Martha?’

‘You have. Now I’ve seen your room and your new toys and clothes I’ll go downstairs and help Minna lay the table for coffee and some of that apple cake we brought with us. See you both downstairs in five minutes.’

‘Thank you, Auntie Martha.’ Heinrich glanced up at Wolf from under his lashes.

Wolf hated asking the question but he had to know. ‘Did you call Uncle Franz “Father”?’

‘He tried to make me.’

‘As I said yesterday, you can call me Papa if you like.’

‘It’s what Ralf, Felix, and Meta call Uncle Ralf.’

‘It’s up to you.’

‘I’ll call you Papa.’

‘I didn’t ask you yesterday, but thinking about it, I should have. Would you have preferred to have stayed with your mother in Lichtenhagen?’

‘Auntie Martha said I should come here to live with you, and it wouldn’t have been much fun in Lichtenhagen without Aunt Pippi, Ralf, and his brother and sister.’

Wolf noticed Heinrich had avoided mentioning his mother. ‘You could have stayed if you’d wanted to.’

He shrugged his thin shoulders. ‘I like this house and I like Uncle Martin, Aunt Ludwiga, Aunt Lotte, and my cousins, even though they’re girls. And Auntie Martha is here. Did you know that Uncle Wilhelm and Uncle Paul live in an apartment in the garden?’

‘Yes.’

‘They’re fun. They play ball with me. Uncle Wilhelm showed me his gun. Do you have a gun, Papa?’

A lump rose in Wolf’s throat. It was the first time Heinrich had called him “Papa” without being prompted. He thought of the weapon he was carrying but he couldn’t bear the thought of showing it to Heinrich. His son was young – innocent. He wanted to delay telling him about the cruel and violent side of life for as long as possible. ‘I did have a gun before the Allies captured me. They took it from me.’

‘And Uncle Peter?’

‘His too. We were in the same prisoner of war camp.’

‘Was it horrible?’

‘Not very, we had a warm place to sleep and food to eat.’

‘But they took your guns away from you.’ Heinrich sat on the bed and looked at the boxes of toys.

‘You can open those if you like,’ Wolf wanted to move on from the topic of prison camps.

‘Can I set them out on that desk?’

‘I think that would be a very good place for them.’ Wolf carried the largest box over. He looked around. Ludwiga had succeeded in making the room comfortable, homely, and very much a boy’s room, with plain blue curtains and bedcover, and prints of horses, dogs, and eighteenth-century soldiers on the walls. She’d also arranged some old books of his and Martin’s on a bookcase beneath the window seat. He pulled one out. ‘I remember reading this one about the Teutonic Knights when I was your age. There are stories in here about Helmut von Mau.’