The Schliemann Legacy (20 page)

"Does it occur to you that he might only be after Helene?" asked Kadner.

"He already has Helene. He is after more. Did you see him admire the paintings? He played the fool, but he knew exactly what each piece was. I'm sure he knows when they all disappeared. Could he be after us?" An unusual hint of fear sharpened Viktor's tone.

Kadner stopped and stared at Viktor's massive outline blocking the light from the house. Even at almost 65, Bitkowski was still in superior condition. He had killed men half his age with his bare hands. Kadner could not ask for a safer, more loyal companion.

"He might be, but I doubt it." Kadner said as the two continued through the garden. "Not an Israeli. Not like this. They would have just moved in and kidnapped us. Still, he might be an advance agent. Who knows? I feel his main interest is Helene. My granddaughter has turned into quite a little slut. However," he added quietly, "if this Wakefield deceives us, you may have to show the girl what can happen to her friends. If she is old enough to fuck them, she is old enough to understand the consequences."

Viktor smiled. He had often considered what being with Helene would be like. While with his whores, he fantasized about her warm, supple body.

As he watched Kadner disappear into the house, Viktor found himself hoping Wakefield would try something. Possibly, his old commander would not be so forgiving of the girl. Flexing his fists, he turned to travel the grounds again, his steps lighter this time.

* * * * *

With weary steps, Ulrich Kadner clumped down the basement staircase. He nodded to a guard at the other end of the hallway, unlocked the door to a small room, entered, and closed the door behind him. He sat down in front of a console of five televisions and flipped a switch. The screens slowly glowed to life, displaying various scenes around the house.

Kadner twisted a knob and all the screens changed to a view of Wakefield's bedroom. Kadner focused the camera on the bed. Helene and Wakefield lay naked on top of the sheets. White stockings were draped carelessly over the headboard. The mottled red skin of Helene's neck and chest betrayed her recent exertion. Looking at the video recorder below the screens, Kadner considered rewinding the tape and watching the recorded action.

He shook his head as he removed the tape from the machine, wrote on the label, and set the cassette on the shelf. He might watch the tape tomorrow or later in the week. To delay would build excitement and anticipation. On Saturday night, if he could wait that long, he would view the entire scene from Helene's arrival in Wakefield's room to their final climax.

Thumbing the wheel again, he tightened the picture to scan over Helene's body. Regretfully, he looked at his watch and flipped the switch on the console. The picture winked out as he left the room.

He passed the hallway guard without a word and walked into a large, gaudily furnished room, again locking the door behind him. A highly polished grand piano surrounded by eighteen embroidered chairs dominated the center of the room. Kadner wove his way through the chairs, placed his fingers on the keys, and played a discordant series of notes. He heard a hiss as the Steinway rose up slightly. Standing, he shoved hard and slid the piano to one side, revealing a cement staircase below the opening.

Kadner carefully descended the steps until he faced a small keypad resembling a pocket calculator. He quickly punched a series of numbers. With a breath of hydraulics, the door moved out and Kadner backed up the steps, allowing it to swing past him. Lights came on inside the vault. He checked his watch to confirm he was on schedule and stepped through the entrance.

Kadner stood beside a clothing dummy dressed in the uniform of an SS officer. He gently ran his fingers over the material of the sleeve then turned toward the collection laid out in front of him.

A large copper shield hung on the wall. The heavily dented metal reflected rays of light around the room. Flanking the shield were thirteen copper pikes set on wooden shafts. The sharp spears angled out from the wall as though awaiting the banner of some ancient king. More pieces of copper surrounded the shield. On one side lay the silver items. Goblets, vases, and knife blades shone as they had when King Priam ruled the great city of Troy. On the other side of the copper pieces, the most valued artifacts burned in the bright lights.

The objects glowed with a brilliance that only gold possesses. A two-handled cup, goblets, and a globular bottle stood above the thousands of small rings, earrings, bracelets, buttons, dice, and two exquisite diadems. All were worked from the same glistening gold. Between the pieces, jewels sparkled like dazzling points of light.

For decades, Kadner knew, men had prayed for the opportunity to see these lost treasures again. All archaeologists would recognize these artifacts as part of the early lore of their science. However, here they rested, where only one man ever saw them. Only he possessed them. But at what price?

Kadner could feel the rage smother him. Like a lightning fast boxer, the anger jabbed repeatedly at his stomach. Sweat covered his face and drenched his shirt. His legs went weak and he grabbed the clothing dummy to support himself. His heart beat rapidly and his hands shook as his past vividly assaulted him.

The old man's nightly vigil had begun.

Chapter 24 - BROTHERLY LOVE

Friedrich Heiden looked out across the deep rock quarry at Majdanek. 1943. The Jewish prisoners had just arrived at the pit and the guards were distributing tools to the line of workers. Horst Dausel whipped an inch thick length of rope across the back of one of the Jews who had staggered out of place. Heiden watched as the giant guard threw the man back into line and a guard on the other side stopped the reeling prisoner with a rifle butt in the lower back. The Jew flailed back through the line into Dausel again. This game would continue until the men tired or the Jew collapsed. Or died.

Heiden decided to let them have their fun. This particular Jew probably had months of usefulness left, but Jews were plentiful. His men needed the release. Rumors were circulating throughout the occupied territories and the labor camp was no exception. Through his contacts, Heiden heard whispers of Hitler's madness and knew the situation was out of control. Germany would inevitably fall to the enemy. Then the retribution would begin.

He held no illusions about how the world would view Hitler's Master Plan. Those responsible for the extermination of the Jews would face extermination themselves. Though not as fanatical about the Plan as many of his colleagues, Heiden naturally agreed with ridding the world of the inferior Jews. However, he had no intention of dying for his belief. He would leave Germany long before that happened.

During the past year, he had used his leave time to arrange an escape and prepare the items necessary for survival outside Germany. Heiden knew he would be hiding for years, perhaps for the rest of his life. It would require a great deal of money and a safe place to live.

Given his low status in a relatively insignificant camp, Heiden should not have enjoyed such open access to the spoils of the war. The higher ranking officials in Berlin and Paris reserved the expensive items, such as art treasures and gold, for themselves. Camp workers like Heiden usually stole only the less significant belongings of the Jews. Unless, they had his daring and intelligence.

The SS knew the value of the labor camps went beyond the obvious. Like the prisoner of war camps, the enemy knew never to bomb the civilians in the camp or the trains that transported them. It became standard practice to use the trains for shipments of plundered goods while the camps themselves became shipping depots. Heiden took advantage of this practice. With the assistance of the giant Dausel, he had brazenly intercepted and rerouted shipments destined for high-ranking members of the Nazi party while supplementing his postwar fund by supplying bogus escape routes to Jews. He shipped the jewels, gold, and artwork through Portugal to Brazil, using the names of several fictitious generals to insure the privacy and speed of the shipments. As no one dared insult one of Hitler's generals, especially in the current climate, Heiden knew the goods would be waiting for him when he arrived.

Now, the time to leave was near.

Heiden watched as Horst Dausel climbed the wooden ladder to join him at the edge of the pit. He had decided to take the sadistic giant with him. Horst had been loyal since Heiden had saved his life three years ago. His strength had been useful protection in the past and would be again during the long escape. Heiden also genuinely liked the man - their tastes in entertainment being similar.

The next day, the two would begin their official leave. Heiden had worked long hours to insure they would vacation together. After a trip to Berlin, they would be gone from Germany forever.

* * * * *

Horst Dausel waited at the top of the narrow stairs as his commander descended to the lower level. The Berlin Ethnological Museum and its collection of rare archaeological artifacts and treasures had been moved to this underground bunker when the bombings began in Berlin. Heiden used the toe of his boot to knock on the thick wooden door. Seconds later, he kicked it again and a muffled voice called out.

"I'm coming. Don't knock the door down."

The heavy door swung backward into the room and a man stepped out to meet Heiden eye to eye. The overhead light shone brightly on the two men's faces. As usual, Heiden felt uncomfortable looking at his twin brother, Anton, with his perfect unscarred face.

"Friedrich? To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Heiden glanced up the stairs and then looked back at his brother. "Anton, aren't you going to invite me in?"

Anton stood back and motioned him through the door, looking back up the stairs suspiciously before following his brother into the large room. Friedrich had already pulled out a bottle of Schnapps and two glasses from the desk drawer. He carefully poured the liquor into the glasses, leaving the bottle uncapped. Anton ignored the offered glass and returned to his worktable. He sensed his twin watching him as he picked up a small brush and carefully dusted a piece of crockery.

"Anton, still playing with his toys."

Anton tried to control his anger. "As curator of this Museum, I do not play…"

"Yes, yes. You have told me before. But are these treasures honestly worth that much?" Heiden taunted.

Anton shook his head and continued to clean the small shards before aligning them on the bench. "Friedrich, you are such a fool. Has the military so dulled your sense of reality? Are you incapable of seeing what is before you? Some of these objects have survived thousands of years. Are you incapable of understanding what that means?" He swept his arm around the room. "These artifacts are the evidence of great civilizations. Not like the barbaric tribes that try to de-populate the world now. These people were advanced in the Arts and Sciences."

Anton sighed. His brother would never understand the importance of his work, he thought. Though twins, they shared no common ground in their interests or personality. He pointed out two large displays centered in the room. "Those are my pride and joy," he said. His brother stared at him as though he had spoken a foreign language. "Don't you know what they are, Friedrich? How often have you been coming here? In those cases rest the treasures discovered by the great German, Heinrich Schliemann. They are priceless."

Friedrich held up his hands in mock surrender. "I have not come here for a lecture. I've no time to waste. I came to ask you a question. Are we alone?"

Anton dropped his brush on the table and glanced sharply at his brother. He stared at the SS insignia on the dark uniform for several seconds before slowly nodding his head. "We are alone, yes. Your Fuehrer has little energy left for this department. Instead, he sends my colleagues on fool's errands around the globe. I don't understand. What is this about?"

"Listen to your barbaric brother and I will explain."

Friedrich motioned for his brother to sit. Anton complied and, this time, accepted the small glass of Schnapps. Friedrich sat across from him before continuing. "Anton, the war is lost. Germany will not last much longer. Even as we speak, the enemy approaches. The end is inevitable."

Anton shrugged. "A fate predestined from the time we allowed that fanatic to lead us."

Heiden waved the remark away. "That does not matter, now. The fact remains that we must leave Germany. I have arranged…"

"I have no intention of leaving Germany," Anton interrupted. He stood and walked back to his worktable. "Germany is my home. Once Hitler is defeated and we can return to a normal existence, I will return to my studies in full force."

"You know history," Heiden said. "You know the price the losing side pays. There will be trials. Convictions. Executions."

Anton laughed and turned his back on his twin. "My poor Nazi brother. Time to pay for your sins, is that it? I have no fear, brother. You run and hide yourself away from the world with the rest of your 'elite.' I welcome the arrival of
your
enemy."

Friedrich snapped to his feet and grabbed his brother's shoulder. "We just follow orders," he shouted in his face.

"Of course, you do," Anton said, his voice low and mocking. "If you were even remotely human, you would have refused. Did your orders include torture and rape? You will face trials, but I have no worry. I didn't perform any of the monstrosities I have heard whispered about you. I have been the caretaker of these great treasures and works of art. While you were torturing people, I was unlocking the secrets of these artifacts. Not a single person knows more about this collection. The
civilized
world will hold me in high esteem for keeping this collection intact and for what I alone can tell them after years of study. You are an abomination, brother. Our mother would die if she knew what you've done."

He traced his finger down the scar on Friedrich's cheek. "Is that how you received this - during one of your tortures? Or was it during one of the rapes?"