Episode 17. Morning of 2 August 1936 (Horst)
I left the interrogation room with an empty anxious feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. It had been a rough night with that crazy American girl foolishly attempting to poison Dr. Goebbels right in front of my eyes. I had no choice but to stop her. It was my duty to do so, even though I might have enjoyed seeing that skinny club-footed pig writhing and convulsing on the floor of the Apollo. And doing so meant that I would have to preside over her torture, and more likely than not ... her execution.
What was she doing here in Germany? She was so hopelessly naive and idealistic. To watch those sadistic bastards dunk her nude body ... to see her suffer so horribly as she experienced one of the most terrifying of tortures ... played deeply on my conscience. I needed time to think, to search my soul. The best I could do for the moment was to save her from any more immediate tortures. I hoped that I would find answers to her true identity and purpose waiting for me in my office, and that a proper course of action would reveal itself to me before duty forced me to resume her interrogation.
As I made my way from the interrogation blocks to my office, I observed a loud commotion emanating from the reception desk near the entrance to the building. Some Gestapo men were bringing in a prisoner, a striking young blonde woman in a red dress ... and a portly, well-dressed man was remonstrating loudly with the duty officer. I thought I recognized his voice and stopped to take a closer look. It was Max, and the woman under arrest was his number one showgirl at the Apollo, the one called Katrin.
Not wishing to get involved at this time, I hastened to cross the corridor unseen and enter my office, closing the door silently behind me. There on my desk, as I expected it would be, was a plain brown envelope.
I sat down in my chair, picked up the envelope and opened the seal with the point of the ceremonial SS dagger I kept in a drawer for that purpose. From the envelope I extracted a flimsy on which the content of an overseas cable had been transcribed. I laid it on the desk in front of me, smoothed it, and then leaned back in my chair to light a cigarette.
I smoked, eyes closed for several minutes, then, picking up the flimsy, I began to read:
Intelligence Report (Top Secret)
1 August 1936
SD, North American Office
New York, USA
Subject: Barbara Moore
Real name: Varvara Mohr
Born: 15 May 1904, St. Petersburg, Russia
Father: Gustav Mohr, German-born, activist leader and agitator, working with the Russian Socialist Revolution Party
Mother: Ekatarina Ivanovo, socialist propagandist
Emigrated to U.S. in 1906 with her parents in the aftermath of Russian Revolution of 1905. U.S. citizenship acquired in 1914 through parents' naturalization. Parents active in labor strikes in 1920s; Gustav arrested four times for labor agitation, serving two years in prison 1926-28. Barbara attended Harvard University, 1924-1929, where she was an active member of the country's radicalized left wing American Student Union. Arrested twice for political agitation on campus during her student years ... continued on after graduation as a front office representative of the ASU and as a propagandist for the Workers Party of America into the early 1930s. Recruited in 1932-33 by the Soviet NKVD. Lived in Moscow, two years, 1933-34. Returned spring of 1935 to the U.S.
I laid the flimsy down on my desk, leaned back in my chair, opened the drawer and extracted a bottle of schnapps and a glass, which I promptly refilled and emptied four times.
Then I reached to my 'inbox' to withdraw a memo addressed to me from the front office of the Friedrich-Wilhelm-Universität, stating that no American citizen by the name of Barbara Moore is listed as having enrolled for the coming term.
A second memo, newly arrived, from the chemical lab confirmed that the white powdery substance was a poison.
I filled and drained another shot of schnapps.
A third memo, from my superior, Reinhard Heydrich, re-confirmed that Fräulein Moore, whom I had brought to his attention in an earlier memo, was to be watched closely but discretely, and prevented if necessary from carrying out any mission which she might be pursuing at the behest of an unfriendly authority. It also reminded me of the importance of squelching at all costs any disturbance that potentially might embarrass the Reich at this critical time of the Berlin Olympiad.
I folded Heydrich's memo, stuffed it in a drawer with others, and then with a smile, picked up the last item in my inbox ... a heavily perfumed envelope. Opening it I withdrew a piece of fine stationary and read:
My darling Horst,
Thank you for the lovely evening last week. I can't tell you how much I appreciate having your strong shoulder and sympathetic ear to give me the strength I so desperately need. Joseph is such a cad. I don't know how much longer I can bear his endless dalliances and debauchery. I know it's wrong of me, as a good National Socialist wife and mother, to think ill of my husband and yet I often find myself wishing for some misfortune to befall him. The Fuhrer would die if he knew, but I can tell you in the strictest confidence that were it to happen, you and I could at long last be openly together and I would be the happiest woman in the Reich.
Affectionately and passionately yours,
Magda G.
I thought regretfully about how easy it might have been to ignore Fräulein Moore's ill-conceived assassination attempt and drained a sixth glass. If only I hadn't given in then to my sense of duty. I picked up the phone and dialed Klaus' number.
"Klaus! Listen. We have got to get her out of here. I want you to stay by your phone until you hear from me again. I am not sure how it will be done and how long it will take but I do know I will need your help when the time comes. I don't have to tell you that what I am about to do is at great risk to myself and quite probably to you as well, but if Fräulein Moore starts talking ... well a lot is at stake ... and she is such an amateur ... dedicated to her fool cause, but totally out of her depth. I should have my head examined for even contemplating this. You and I are on opposite sides, Klaus, but there is something about this young woman. I know you are smitten, and I feel it too. So sit tight and await developments! I'd better go now and check on her."
I set down the receiver, stood up and steadied myself for a moment with both hands on my desk, then headed out the door and down the corridor to the stairway leading to the interrogation blocks below. Looking in Barbara's cell near the bottom of the stairs, I was astonished to find it empty.
From down the corridor came a woman's scream. Galvanized into action, I hastened down the long corridor, with its dozens of cells. A moment later I heard a second, louder scream ... it was Barbara's voice! I strode faster, fuming at the fact that my orders had obviously been disobeyed. I told those louts to wait for my return! Another scream ... this time, not Barbara's voice!
The cries were coming from Interrogation Block A at the far end of the corridor. I covered the remaining distance and reached the small anteroom leading to the Block A interrogation room just as I heard a loud crack, a smacking sound, and Barbara crying out again.
I went to open the door to the interrogation chamber. It was locked! I banged furiously on the door, and while I waited for someone on the other side to respond, I cast my eyes around the anteroom until my gaze rested on a woman's crumpled red dress and underthings carelessly tossed in a corner!
...
