Out of Such Darkness (20 page)

“You are being very stupid, Herr Mortimer. You have been
fucked
.” He used the English word. “There will be no escape.”

“But the transfer …”

“Yes. We are closing here. We are moving the prisoners to Sachsenhausen. It has already started. In fact your Herr Koehler went there directly from the courthouse. He had the honour of being one of the first batch of prisoners there.” He laughed more raucously. “You have been fucked and you English better get used to it. Germany is on the rise and if there is war, which I think there will be, you and your Wolf will be on opposite sides, Herr Mortimer. And as your friend is serving a sentence he will be in a punishment battalion. I would not hold out much hope that he will survive even the short war we shall win. Now let me show you out.”

His laughter followed me as I left the office and walked to the gate, a feeble and foolish queer.

Jay looks at his watch. He doesn’t want to tire Willy out but on the other hand he’s anxious to know about as much of his story as possible. If he can connect him to Isherwood in a meaningful way he’ll be able to tell Mark Costidy that he’s discovered they have a contemporary of the
Cabaret
originator in their midst. ‘Can you go on a little longer?’ he says.

‘Pfff! I can talk a blue streak until Christmas you want to listen.’ He strokes his chin. ‘Where to start?’

‘I asked about Germany – before the war.’

Willy looks out of the window, into the distance. ‘Sachsenhausen!’

Jay remembers the
Buzz
headline. ‘That was the death camp?’

‘Death camp! Pfff! Sachsenhausen was never a death camp – not like in Poland. This was a Concentration Camp. Important difference. Yes, people died under torture but no systematic killing of everyone who arrived.’

Willy and I understand this distinction, Jay. Most prisoners in the concentration camps in Germany survived. In the death camps in the east – we were all
meant
to die. Every single one.

Jay’s replaying the MC’s last intervention. This is not in his memory. Where did it come from?

You must have read it somewhere.

He’s only half-listening while Willy explains how he was arrested and charged with treason and being a homosexual.

‘Why treason?’

‘Because Wolf was involved with Ernst Röhm and the Brownshirts.’

Try again. Cameron before the war.

‘Tell me about Cameron – how you met. Did you ever meet Christopher Isherwood?’

Too eager!

Willy shakes his head. ‘Isherwood? No, not then. He could have come to one of Cameron’s parties here in New York. Is it important?’

‘I was hoping
…
no, not really. Tell me about when you were together – in Berlin.’

But Willy’s eyes are closed and, as he breathes in, the sound he makes is like a cat purring.

As Jay strides to his car with his hands in his pockets and breath clouding ahead of him he thinks about Willy Keel’s story. He’s frustrated not to learn more about what happened before the war but what he’s heard is far more interesting than many of the lives he’s read about since he delved into Isherwood and the Nazis. He wonders if Willy would let him write up his biography. It’s only something he could contemplate with the Straub, DuCheyne millions behind him.

Two days later Jay is with Teri in Stamford. She’s slipping on a replacement thong and tosses the torn one into the waste basket. Their weekly meetings are now all about sex that increasingly involves a degree of humiliation for her. They bang away in the dusty cubicle as if they’re actors in a porn movie and she appears to get pleasure from the pain. On the drives home, Jay feels remorse but the MC urges him to channel his disquiet into even more inventive excesses.
It’s too late for me. Exploit what you have – your sensual body. Live it! Feel it! No limits!

Teri thumbs through papers in a file and presents Jay with a counterfoil. ‘Perhaps I should have given you this before – then maybe you wouldn’t have been so rough. It’s the check.’

Jay thinks she’s presenting him with the bill for her torn lingerie. But it’s a banker’s draft payable to him for $3m and change. He clasps a hand over his eyes and a smile spreads across his lips. ‘Shit!’

Money Money Money Money Money Money – that clinking, clanking sound. It makes the world go round.

‘Well, what do you say?’

‘Thanks,’ he says.

‘I reckon you can do better.’ She tucks in her blouse and smoothes her skirt.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think I deserve another trip. Maybe we could go see clients in the city for the day. Next Tuesday you can spend some of that money on
me
. What do you say?’

On the way home the only thing occupying Jay’s mind is how to make it look as if the cheque is for $3m straight so he can lash the accrued interest on the day in town with Teri. He’s left it to her to book the best possible place for lunch and a suite in a hotel of her choice. It isn’t going to be cheap.

The second meeting with Willy, on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, takes place at the same hour, in the same room with the same coffee things served by the same assistant. The same sullen sky hangs over the drab garden bordered by skeletal trees. It’s as if time stood still.

As soon as Willy is wheeled in, Jay asks him if he’ll allow him to record their meetings. ‘Your story would make a great book.’ He’s ignoring Rachel’s intention for them to go home before the start of the January school term.

‘You really think so? I’m not so sure.’

Jay knows him well enough now – he’s waiting to be flattered. ‘Think what you’ve lived through. The rise of Hitler in Berlin–’

Willy interrupts. ‘Wolf was in the Hitler Youth
…
’

Jay holds up the digital recorder. Willy nods. ‘I think it was his uniform that excited Cameron in the early days.’

Jay smiles. He’s not sure how to answer.

For the next 40 minutes Willy needs only intermittent prompts to recount the story of his upbringing in Charlottenburg, his family’s involvement with the Nazis, and his meeting with Cameron. He’s frank about how he initiated the sex. ‘Cammie was such a stuffed shirt – so English. He was so scared of Wolf when he knew how he felt. I swear Cammie would have run away if Wolf hadn’t pinned him to the bed.’ He chuckles and for a moment Jay can see a younger man.

‘Wolf was singing once and he fainted, you know. In the Neuen See Biergarten. The scene – me singing, not Cameron fainting – it was the same as in the film
…
’ he clicks his fingers, ‘
…
you know, the one with Judy Garland–’

‘Liza Minnelli. It was her daughter, Liza Minnelli.
Cabaret
.’ And as he says the word, Jay hears a buzzing in his ears and he has to steady himself because he feels a trembling through the floor.

It’s like the plates of the earth are moving together …

‘Are you all right?’ Willy says.

‘Yes. It’s just the coincidence of that scene.’ He tells Willy about Ben and the school production.

‘It was a fine film,’ Willy says.

‘But because I’m – we’re Jewish – there’s a rabbi who’s been trying to have the show stopped. He doesn’t like the idea of a Jewish boy singing that song – you know
Tomorrow Belongs to Me
and wearing the uniform and the swastika armband.’

Willy nods. ‘It’s understandable. They went through so much.’

‘They? You’re Jewish too, aren’t you?’

Willy waves his hand. ‘Pfff! No. Never. You think they would have had me in the army? I
definitely
would have gone to a death camp. No, it was my wife, Geraldine, she was Jewish. Not that you’d know.’

Concentrate on this, Jay. This is important. Listen …

Jay ignores a fleeting tingle of déjà vu. ‘The synagogue I go to supports Ben – but Rabbi Stern, he’s trying to have the whole production stopped. He doesn’t think it’s right for my Ben to play the part.’

There’s a silence while Jay thinks about the man who’s causing them trouble.

Willy has his eyes shut and Jay worries that he’s gone to sleep.

‘Willy?’

‘Sorry. So what does Rabbi Stern intend to do?’

‘He says he’ll bring his congregation to the school theatre and picket the show.’

Willy sighs. ‘This seems so bigoted from a man who suffered from prejudice himself.’

‘I hadn’t thought about it like that.’

Willy shuts his eyes again. ‘I’m tired, Jay. But you can come again and we’ll do the book. But first you must do me a favour.’

‘Of course.’

‘Will you take me to see your son in the
Cabaret
?’

Later in Ponds Lane, Jay draws a deep breath. It’s not only to appreciate the aroma of coffee fresh from the grinder. ‘There’s been a hitch with the money.’

‘What do you mean – “hitch”?’ Rachel pours hot water and the scalded grounds foam as they surrender their essence.

He tries to sound casual. ‘Oh. Nothing major – a couple of forms. Formalities.’

‘What does it mean?’ She shoos Jay in front of her like a farmer herding an unruly bull. ‘Move! This kitchen! I’ll be glad when we get back to the UK. A bigger house – what a relief.’

Jay takes his place at the table which is set with coffee cups. The side plates each have an English muffin, split, toasted and spread with margarine and Marmite. The Marmite comes from a Brit ex-patriot shop in Ossining where Rachel also buys Cadbury’s chocolate.

‘Tuck in.’ Rachel presses down on the
cafetière
’s plunger.

‘Mmm!’ Jay licks some stray Marmite from his lips and savours the salty tang. It’s a taste from home. ‘I was saying about the money?’

‘Yeah, forms.’

‘Formalities – but Teri says it can all be done in a day if we go and sort it out face-to-face.’ He’s studying the smeared surface of the half-muffin that he’s taken a bite from.

‘When?’

‘She’s organised it for Tuesday so as to not use up more than our usual time.’

‘That’s thoughtful.’ She pours the coffee.

Jay looks up. Was that irony? Perhaps he’s being paranoid.

‘Is it the insurance company?’

‘Yes. New York Life.’

‘Why don’t I come too? We could do a bit of shopping; have a celebration. What time’s the meeting?’

He shrugs and screws his face into his I-can’t-help-it look. ‘Sorry. No can do. ’Cos Teri’s arranged some more appointments while we’re in the city. Closing down the last few accounts – do the glad-handing. You know how it goes. I probably won’t leave until after the rush hour. Home for eight or nine? Sorry.’

‘Pity. I would have liked to have come.’

‘We can do it anytime after we have the money. Go into the city; stay somewhere grand. A suite at the Ritz-Carlton – that sort of thing. We’re not tied down. Let’s wait until after Thanksgiving. They say the shops really turn it on for Christmas after–’

‘Who says?’

He shrugs again. ‘I don’t know. It’s something I’ve picked up. Macy’s – Father Christmas –
Miracle on 34th Street
, you know. We could sort out your Christmas present – once we’ve $3m in the bank. How does that sound?’ He lifts the cup to his lips and the coffee’s heavy bitterness lays over the salt-taste from the Marmite. ‘Good coffee.’ He smiles.

They had arranged to meet in the lobby of the Marriott Marquis on Broadway. Jay arrives first. He’s blowing heat into his hands and cursing himself for not remembering his gloves and for not wearing his scarf up over his exposed ears. He’s still stamping his feet as Teri swirls through the revolving door. She’s wearing white fur earmuffs that match her faux fur coat. It has a nipped waist that accentuates her figure and its length shows off her boot-encased calves. Jay’s imagination stirs his body’s reflexes into action.

Layer after layer for you to take off. Make sure you take your time
.

Teri links her hand around his arm and leads him to the VIP reception desk. ‘We have an early check-in? Under Halprin? Jay Halprin?’ she says.

Neither their before-lunch arrival nor their lack of luggage disturbs the deadpan expression of the woman behind the counter. Her ‘Have an iced A!’ trails after them to the bank of elevators.

Alone inside the lift, they throw themselves at each other.

As soon as they’re inside their room, Jay spins her round and undoes the buttons of her coat and blouse. While they chew at each other’s lips, Teri scrabbles for his belt and zipper. He hooks her breasts out over the cups of her bra and then works her skirt up. He has his mouth clamped to her nipple as he grapples her panties far enough down for her to step one leg out. Then he is in and the back of Teri’s head bangs against the heavy door.

I told you to take your time. This is more like the bathroom scene at the start of
The Godfather
. You know, where Marlon Brando’s newly-married son has sex in the bathroom with a bridesmaid while the wedding feast continues in the garden outside. You know the one … Jay?

Jay presses his face into Teri’s neck. His eyes are screwed tight shut. He needs to banish the MC from his mind if he’s going to make this happen before his knees give way.

At the casually chic French restaurant recommended to Teri by Nathan Fothergill, Jay asks whether the meal is on expenses as he’s such an important client. The room is tiny and the top of their round table is no bigger than a dustbin lid. A floor-length white cotton tablecloth hides their legs. ‘Oh no,’ she says, ‘
you
are not the client. Straub, DuCheyne is the client. When we wind it up we’re billing them. Perhaps I can find a way of putting the meal on their account.’ She smiles. ‘Yes, that’ll work – but only if you treat me
really
well this afternoon.’

‘I’m excited thinking about it.’ Jay slips his right foot out of its shoe and runs his socked foot along her calf. Her smile emboldens him so he goes higher. She separates her knees. Higher still. By the time the waiter asks for their order Jay’s cotton-encased toe is pressed into her groin. He admires Teri’s sang-froid as she orders oysters for both of them.

Teri mentions that Nathan is at one of the memorial services.

‘Which one?’ His foot is still wedged in her groin. He tries to remove it but she reaches down and pulls it in. She closes her thighs around it – her face flushed. The tendons at the back of his knee complain.

Keep it there. D’you think she’ll do it right here?

‘Sure you want to know?’

Watch her eyes … she is. She is!

He keeps his voice even. ‘Why not?’

‘Your assistant – Nancy Chandler.’

His stomach lurches and he pulls his foot away.

Nancy – and you promised you’d be there for her.

‘Why didn’t Nathan tell me? I would have gone.’

‘Did you go to the others?’

‘Which others?’

‘That’s what I mean. Nancy’s one of the last. Nathan and I decided we shouldn’t tell you about any of them. It would have been uncomfortable for everybody.’