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Authors: Marta Tandori

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BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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“Is that all we were to you - human sacrifices?”

“What’s done is done.” Her father cleared his throat. “Himmler’s Lebensborn program had its flaws; flaws which should have been corrected but there had been no time. No one expected the defeat of the Third Reich.”

“And yet it was defeated.” The time for chit-chat was clearly over. “Now that we’ve caught up on old times, what did you want to talk to me about?”

He got up and went to his desk. Picking up a leather billfold, he brought it over to the coffee table. “How much will it cost me to get rid of you and that little noodle brain?”

Kate turned pale as a ghost. “What did you just call her?”

“Exactly what she is, a little half-whit,” he told her succinctly.

Each of his words had the impact of a physical blow and Kate recoiled from his presence by sinking as far into the sofa as she could.

“Do you know what we used to do with little half-whits like her?” Karl’s tone was taunting, contemptuous. “We used to tie sacks over their heads and drown them!”

“You sick bastard!” Kate cried. “That little noodle brain, as you so callously called her, is a part of you. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she grew up to look exactly like her grandfather?”

“How much?” he asked again. Picking up his glass, Karl finished off the rest of his scotch in a single gulp. His glass missed the table and landed on the carpet.

His clumsiness only made Kate more incensed. “You think buying me off will make me forget about you and Irving going at it or the fact that you both raped me? Not a chance!” she spat out. “I wonder what your wife will say when she finds out she married a sick monster who gets his kicks fucking her son,” she continued coldly, “or that her beloved son,
the future governor of California,
is a sadistic rapist like her husband?” Kate gave him a cold smile that never reached her eyes. “I bet that would thrill her plenty, maybe enough to divorce you and disown him.” She stood up, ready to leave.

Karl crossed his arms over his massive chest. “It’ll be your word against ours.”

Kate faltered, but only for a second. “About Sonja, perhaps. But I’d like to see you try and explain each of the entries in your little black notebook.” She watched him go pale. “You
do
remember that notebook, don’t you, Papa – the one that detailed the daily executions at the extermination camp? Did I mention I have it and that I plan on using it to destroy you?”

“You bitch!”
 

It looked like he was about to attack her but Kate was ready for him. “Don’t even
think
of touching me.” Reaching into her purse for the gun, Kate held it in front of her, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

Karl Bauer came up short at the sight of it. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Kate pointed the gun at her father’s chest. “Do you really want to take that chance?” she asked.

Her father suddenly laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“You,” he replied. “You had me going for a minute with that silly prop gun.” His voice was soft, almost menacing as he slowly circled around her, the effects of the alcohol impeding his movements. “You, my dearest Katya, are a formidable product of superior genetic breeding.”

Her father’s words stung. “I’m a person, not a god-damned science experiment!” Tears filled Kate’s eyes and she swiped at them angrily.

In that split second, her father lunged across the coffee table at Kate and clumsily tried getting his hands around her throat but she was able to knee him in the groin. Gagging, Karl reeled backwards, only to have his heel catch on the leg of the coffee table. Losing his balance, he hit his head on the corner of the heavy wooden table as he fell to the ground.

Kate went around the table so that she was directly behind his head just as his body began convulsing. The convulsions were soon followed by huge spurts of vomit. Karl’s drunken state and the knock on his head had left him disoriented and unable to get up. Without thinking, Kate brought her foot down firmly on her father’s left shoulder, effectively pinning him to the carpet. His arms and legs flailed about but he was powerless to call for help as he slowly choked on his own vomit. Soon, the flailing stopped and her father lay perfectly still.

Kate stared at his lifeless form without emotion. “Goodbye, Papa,” she whispered. “I hope you rot in hell.”

***

Kate could hear music behind the door of Marcus’ apartment. She knocked several times, becoming more insistent when he didn’t answer. She was about to leave when he finally threw open his door.

He gave her a worried look when he saw her wan features. “Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kate asked. She solemnly held out a bulky envelope which had the prop gun in it. “I came to give this back to you.”

“Thanks.” Taking the package from her, he put it in his hall closet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kate turned to leave.

“Wait!” Marcus pulled her into his apartment. “Don’t go yet.”

“Look, Marcus. I don’t think I’m very good company tonight.” Kate tried pulling away from him but he wasn’t about to let her go.

“You don’t have to be.” He led Kate over to two men around his age who were lounging on a sofa that had seen better days. “Come meet the guys. This weird-looking carrot-top flexing his fingers is Rob. He plays guitar and that there’s Graham. Guys, this is Kate.”

When the introductions were over, Kate again tried to leave. “It was nice meeting you. I can see you’re busy—”

“We were just about to give Marcus’ new tune a test run,” Graham told her. “Why don’t you stay and give us some feedback?”

“That’s the first brilliant idea you’ve come up with all night,” Marcus told him approvingly before looking at Kate with hopeful eyes. “What do you say, Katie? Are your ears up to the challenge?”

Kate was torn. She was an emotional wreck; on the one hand, euphoric at the realization that she was finally free of the ties that bound her to her father yet on the other, mired by an inexplicable, gut-wrenching loss. And she really didn’t want – no,
couldn’t
be – alone right now. Perhaps the rowdy camaraderie between Marcus and his friends was exactly what she needed.

“All right,” she acquiesced, “but just for a little while.”

“Great! Now take a load off.” Marcus gently pushed Kate down onto the sofa while Rob grabbed the half-eaten box of pizza and put it beside her.

The thought of food nearly made her gag so she focused on Marcus, who looked uncharacteristically nervous as he went and sat down behind a tired looking piano.

“The song is called,
Make a Wish
,” he told her as his fingers nimbly slid over the keys. “I haven’t gotten around to writing any lyrics yet.” He gave her a lopsided grin that almost made her heart melt.

Marcus’ tune was catchy and upbeat without being predictable; a reflection of his personality and his enormous talent, Kate thought. It was also clear that they were all accomplished musicians and she couldn’t help but be impressed. When it was over, she clapped enthusiastically. “That was really terrific!”

“Methinks the fair maid liked the tune,” Marcus remarked, a silly grin plastered on his face.

“You’ve got to come up with some lyrics for it,” Kate told him. “Then it’ll be absolutely fantastic!”

“Now that the serious portion of the program is over with,” Graham joked, “we’ll be happy to take requests from the audience.”

Marcus’ music had the much-needed effect of stabilizing her inner turmoil and Kate was more than willing to go along with their fun. “Okay.” She gave his suggestion some thought. “Do you guys know
These Autumn Days
?”

“Sure.” Rob strummed the first few notes on his guitar before Marcus joined in with Graham bringing up the rear on drums.

“There are days that are good, there are days that are bad, there are days that are happy, there are days that are sad…and then there are autumn days…these autumn days…”
Marcus’ well-modulated baritone filled the room while his friends hummed along. When he got to the second verse, it was as if a giant weight had fallen from Kate’s shoulders and she impulsively began singing in a vibrant alto. The chorus was followed by two more verses before Marcus and Kate finished in perfect harmony. It was at that precise moment, when the song had ended and the last note ebbed to silence, that they all realized something magical had just happened.

Graham was the first to break the spell. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

“That sounded damn fine!” Rob crowed happily.

Marcus swallowed hard as he stared at Kate. “How long have you been singing?”

“You mean in front of someone?” she asked breathlessly. “This was my first time.”

Graham gave Rob a pointed look before clearing his throat dramatically. “I guess it’s time Rob and I got going.” He yanked at his friend’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

Kate and Marcus never bothered to reply. They were oblivious to everything but each other.

“Don’t bother getting up,” Rob joked as he and Graham gathered up their things and headed for the door. “We’ll let ourselves out.” With that, they left.

Marcus got up from behind the piano and sat down beside Kate on the sofa. Gathering her into his arms, he tenderly kissed her. “I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time,” he confessed.

Any lingering tension Kate may have felt disintegrated at Marcus’ touch. “And I’m just realizing now how much I’ve been wanting you to do it,” she told him solemnly. Kate wasn’t sure how long they sat there wrapped in each other’s arms. All she knew was that for the first time in her life, she felt safe and protected. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting the inevitable. She gazed at Marcus, her beautiful eyes luminescent. “Would you like to meet my daughter tomorrow?”

The grin that lit his face spoke louder than any words. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next day, they were on their way to Woodland Hills when the story of Karl Bauer’s death made the news.

CHAPTER 7

1967

After that night in his apartment, Marcus had an epiphany. With their melodic vocals, he became convinced they could make it as a group and his energetic enthusiasm soon had Rob, Graham and Kate on board. Rob named the group after the paisley scarves Kate liked to wear around her neck. They all kept their day jobs and after a couple of months of solid rehearsals and Marcus fine-tuning their arrangements, they managed to save up enough money for some studio time so they could cut a demo tape. They recorded Marcus’ first song, “
Make a Wish
”.

Their demo tape spent the next four months making the rounds of the various record labels without so much as a blip of interest. At night, they would play parties, fairs and every other gig Graham could land for them but with the rise of rock music and the explosion of the British bands on the music scene, no one seemed particularly enthusiastic about the Paisleys’ soft musical style. Rob and Graham were slowly becoming discouraged by their inability to get a record deal but Marcus drove himself relentlessly, writing scores of new music and working on their arrangements.

The only time he ever took a break was to go with Kate to see Sonja and they visited her every other day. The thing that Kate loved most about Marcus was the fact that he accepted Sonja for who she was. He wasn’t aloof or intimidated by her daughter’s behavior and seemed quite happy to sit cross-legged on the floor of the playroom with her. He had asked her once who Sonja’s father was but after seeing how upset Kate had become, he never asked again. Kate felt guilty about how she’d reacted. She knew she owed Marcus an explanation but she was afraid to tell him. She had no way of knowing how he’d react and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Next to her daughter, Marcus had become the center of Kate’s universe.

It was only times like this, when she was stuck on the freeway, that Kate allowed herself to think about all the life-altering “what would happen if” questions she normally pushed to the back of her mind; questions like
“What would happen to Sonja if she was gone?”
or
“What would happen to their relationship if Marcus found out who Sonja’s father was?”
. Kate was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t realize the car in front of her had braked suddenly. A second later, she hit the Cadillac’s back bumper.

“Shit!” She jumped out of her car and went to inspect the damage. Seeing the occupant of the other car, an older woman, coming towards her, Kate immediately became apologetic. “I’m so sorry.” She looked at the small dent in the other car’s bumper before looking at the woman in concern. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the other woman replied. “I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky that traffic was almost at a standstill.”

“The damage doesn’t appear to be too bad,” Kate told her.

“Your car doesn’t even have a scratch on it.” The other woman chuckled in amusement.

Kate became embarrassed as she looked at her old tank of a car. “I guess they don’t make them like they used to.” She looked around the packed freeway. “And there’s never a cop around when you want one.”

“Who says we want one?” asked the older woman brusquely. She withdrew a card from her wallet and wrote something on it before handing it to Kate. “Here’s my contact information. Let’s settle this amongst ourselves. No point making the insurance companies richer than they already are.”

Kate looked at the card and then at the woman more closely. “Esther Solomon. Weren’t you in
The King’s Trojan Horse
?”

The other woman looked at her strangely. “How do you know that? The movie was scrubbed a few months ago when the director died suddenly.”

Kate grinned. “I’m Kate Holberg. We met on the set. My hands were subbing for Divinia’s in the banquet and murder scenes.”

“Of course!” Esther Solomon looked at Kate closely. “Divinia introduced us. It’s a wonder you made the connection without us being in full costume. Have you been working on any other movies lately?”

“Not really. My boyfriend and I have been channeling most of our energies into getting our music career up and running.”

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
3.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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