The Serpent's Egg (33 page)

On the second day, a man arrived carrying a briefcase. Libertas introduced him as Peter Riese. He took pictures of Anna. Then he took an inkpad from his briefcase and applied her fingerprints to two blank identity cards.

“Why do you need two?” she asked.

Peter explained that the extra card was a spare in case the first one didn’t work out. He called her ‘Comrade’, which Anna found amusing. Finally, he added her date of birth and asked her to sign both cards in the name ‘Anna Marten.’

After two more days, Frau Greta Kuckhoff came calling. Anna was delighted to see her again. She immediately asked for news of Sophie. They sat face to face on the armchairs in the study.

“She’s well,” said Greta. “She misses her parents, of course. She clings to her doll the way a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood. She’s had to stay indoors where she is and she’s not happy about that. It’s difficult for a child of nine to grasp the idea that the government wants to lock her up in a labor camp.”

“I know how she feels. I wondered, Frau Greta, if you could make her a new identity like the one you gave Max. If she wasn’t labeled a Jew, maybe she could make a life for herself.”

Greta nodded. “That could be arranged, but I fear she will never lead a normal life in this country. I’d like to get her out of Germany, beyond the clutches of the Gestapo.”

“Why not send her to Belgium? Max says it’s a lovely place, and peaceful. It’s a neutral country, and there are German speakers there…” Anna’s voice faded as she realized why they were having this conversation. “You want us to take her to Belgium.”

“Only if you’re willing.”

Anna smiled.

Greta said, “I could arrange a suitable identity. She could travel as your own child.” Anna opened her mouth to respond. Frau Greta continued quickly, “She doesn’t look Jewish, you must admit. You should have no trouble, and she wouldn’t be a burden to you. She eats like a bird.”

Anna beamed at Greta. “We’d be delighted to take Sophie with us. She would be no burden to us at all.”

“Shouldn’t you talk to Max before you decide?”

“Not at all. Leave Max to me. He loves Sophie as much as I do.”

“I can give you names and addresses of contacts in other countries – Holland, France, and Britain – who might be willing to take her.”

“We won’t need those. We’d be honored to make her part of our family.”

“Permanently?”

“Yes, of course, or for as long as she wishes.”

It was Greta’s turn to smile. “I’m very grateful to you. I will arrange identity papers for Sophie in Max’s new family name, Marten, and travel permits for Brussels for all three of you. As soon as you have those, you should be able to leave.”

Greta stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. “I have a message for you from Madam Krauss.”

“She’s safe? They let her go?”

“Yes, the Gestapo couldn’t hold her. She would have put a witch’s curse on them all.” She laughed. “She sends her best wishes for the future to you both. She says you should treat Sophie as your own child.”

“We will.” Anna’s eyes were filling with tears.

“One other thing Madam Krauss said: Treasure the doll. Aschenputtel holds the key to Sophie’s future.”

Chapter 92

May 1940

Max was happy to take Sophie to safety with them. He made just one condition. “You must ask her aunt if she has any objection.”

The next day, Anna had a word with Pauletta, Sophie’s aunt. “We’ll be leaving for Belgium soon. Frau Greta has asked us to take Sophie with us.”

Pauletta nodded vigorously. “Frau Greta told me. I think it’s a wonderful idea. The poor mite is never going to be safe in Hitler’s Germany. I’m very grateful to you. But…”

Anna waited.

“It must be what Sophie wants. You must ask her. It will mean saying goodbye forever to her mama and papa.”

Anna agreed.

“Is there a telephone box anywhere near the house?”

“Two streets south of here, but you don’t need that. There’s a telephone in the hall downstairs.”

Anna thanked her.

Waiting until after dark, Anna and Max slipped out of the house through a rear door and headed south. Anna used the telephone first. She rang her parents in Dresden.

“Where are you, Anna? Are you all right? We’ve been trying to call you on your telephone at home. We’ve been worried sick.”

“We’re fine, Mama. We’ll be leaving Germany soon.”

“Where are you going?”

“Belgium. I’ll ring you when we get there. Please don’t worry about us.”

“How can I not worry? Have you seen the newspaper? Max’s picture is in there. The police are searching for him. They want to question him about a murder.”

Anna felt a lump in her throat. “He’s innocent, Mama.”

“Tell him to give himself up.” Her father had taken the telephone. “If he’s innocent he should have nothing to worry about.”

Anna rolled her eyes. There wasn’t time to explain to her parents the facts of life in modern Germany.

“Goodbye, Papa. I’ll ring again as soon as we are safe in Belgium.”

She put the telephone back on its cradle, and Max took his turn. He dialed his mother’s number. It rang 12 times before she picked it up.

Hurrying back to the house, Anna asked how his mother was.

“She sounded well, much the same as she always sounds. She had a visit from the Gestapo looking for me. She was a little alarmed by that.”

#

On the same day, May 8, Air Commodore
Cameron Pinkley was on his feet
in the War Office in London
. He’d been given three minutes to make the case for Operation Pike to the two members of Neville Chamberlain’s War Cabinet with primary responsibility for Britain’s War Operations, the Minister for the Coordination of Defence, Lord Chatfield, and the Secretary of State for War, Leslie Hore-Belisha. Sir Kingsley Wood, the Secretary of State for Air was also in attendance, in a strictly advisory capacity.

“Gentlemen,” said Pinkley, “you will see from my report that this operation has been planned down to the finest detail. Between the RAF and the French Air Force, we have 153 heavy bombers in position in airfields in Turkey, Syria and Iran. The ordnance in place consists of 1,000 tons of armor-piercing and incendiary bombs. If you turn to the last two pages you will see the analysts’ estimates of the damage that the raid will inflict on the enemy…”

The Secretary of State for War spoke quietly. “I have read the analysis with interest. If it is accurate, the operation could indeed cripple a superior enemy before they have an opportunity to strike at us. But…”

Lord Chatfield continued the argument, “But we have to ask ourselves whether the Soviets are our enemy. And if we strike first…”

“Unprovoked…” from Hore-Belisha.

Lord Chatfield nodded. “…without provocation, surely this would be a serious breech of protocol. I would be interested in hearing the opinion of the Foreign Secretary on this. I can see the argument in favor, the Serpent’s Egg and all that, but would we not be handing the moral high ground to the Soviets?”

The Secretary of State for Air interjected, “Hang protocol, gentlemen, and to the devil with morality. We are at war.”

#

Two days later, on May 10, the German army crossed the border into Belgium. The Belgian army put up very little resistance, and the German armies continued on into Holland.

Belgium and Holland were no longer neutral, peaceful countries. They were now assimilated into the territories under control of the Nazi regime in Berlin.

In London, Neville Chamberlain resigned and Winston Churchill became Prime Minister of a new coalition government.

On May 12, Operation Pike landed on Churchill’s desk. He read the document slowly, cover to cover. Then he stubbed out his cigar in a heavy crystal ashtray, grunted, and dropped Operation Pike into his wastepaper basket.

Chapter 93

May 1940

Harro Schulze-Boysen slammed the newspaper on the kitchen table. “Have you seen this?”

The front page and several inside pages were devoted to the German offensive to the west. The British Army had been encircled. 400,000 men were now corralled in a small area at Dunkirk in northern France with their backs to the sea. The Royal Navy was attempting an impossible evacuation operation.

Harro turned to page 6 where Max’s picture appeared under a headline: ‘WANTED FOR MURDER.’

Max read the article and passed it to Anna.

Anna read it twice. “It says they want to ask Max some questions about the murder of a religious pastor and the possible murder of another one. It doesn’t say they think he had anything to do with either actual killing.”

“That’s police-speak,” said Harro. “Trust me, they wouldn’t print his picture in the newspaper unless he was a suspect.”

Anna’s hands closed into fists. “That’s grossly unfair.”

Max turned back to the front page. “Belgium is no longer an option for us, Harro. Can we get in touch with Peter the forger and ask him to change our travel documents?”

Libertas appeared at the kitchen door. “I’m sure he’s already working on that.”

Harro and Libertas sat together at the table opposite Anna and Max. They both wore serious frowns on their faces.

Libertas began, “We’ve decided it’s time you moved to another location. Harro and I have discussed it, and we both feel you are no longer safe in this house.”

Harro took up the argument. “I have been under the eye of the Gestapo for a long time, now. It’s only my exalted position in the Luftwaffe, and Hermann Göring’s superior position in the Reich hierarchy that has kept them at bay thus far.”

Libertas continued. “If the house was raided and they found you here, that would almost certainly mean the end of the Orchestra.”

Anna said, “Adam and Frau Greta…”

Harro shook his head. “It might take some time, my dear, but Adam and Greta, Arvid and Mildred would all be captured. Our Communist allies in Neukölln too, I shouldn’t wonder.”

Libertas said, “We’ll move you tomorrow night.” Then she looked at Harro and something unspoken passed between them.

“We’ll move you tonight,” said Harro.

#

Once more Anna found herself under a blanket on the back seat of a car. This time it was Harro’s shiny Daimler-Benz. The suspension was superior to Adam Kuckhoff’s old Horch, but the sensations of claustrophobia and helplessness were just as severe.

The journey lasted 30 minutes. Harro opened the back door and Anna and Max wriggled out from under the blankets. They were in a street that Anna didn’t know with seedy-looking terraced houses on each side.

“Where are we?”

“Neukölln. Come on, get yourselves inside.”

The door of the nearest house was open. They walked inside quickly and Harro closed the door. In the front parlor they found two men. Anna recognized Peter Riese, the Communist forger. The second man looked stronger than anyone Anna had ever met, with impressive arm and chest muscles, like a middle-aged wrestler. Max obviously knew him, judging by the bitter look on his face.

The second man left the room. “That was Edmund,” said Max.

Peter Riese opened a roll-top desk and took out a set of papers. He handed them to Anna. “These are yours, Anna. I’m still preparing your travel papers.”

Anna checked the identity card. It was Belgian. It had her photograph, her date of birth and her fingerprints. And it carried an official-looking Belgian stamp. Only the name and signature were false: Anna Marten.

Max threw himself down on a chair. “Where are we going, Peter?”

“Switzerland. Zurich.”

Max held out his hand, and Anna gave him her new identity card. He examined it. “This is very good work. How do you do it?”

Riese shrugged. “It’s simple. All I need is a blank card and an official stamp.”

#

The bedroom the Communists provided was nothing like the luxurious blue room at the Schulze-Boysen mansion. It was half the size, the bed barely wide enough for two. But still, Anna slept soundly.

She woke up to find Sophie bouncing up and down on the bed. “Sophie, what a pleasant surprise!”

“Hallo, Anna, what are you doing in my secret room?”

“This is your secret room? Herr Riese gave us the bed to sleep in for a few nights. Where’s Aschenputtel?”

“She’s in my bed.”

Max opened his eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Sophie’s here. She’s going to fetch her doll.”

Sophie jumped off the end of the bed and ran from the room. She came back within seconds, carrying her doll.