Page 120 of The German Mother

But the man had already taken her by the arm and was frogmarching her towards the side entrance. Unhooking a bunch of keys from his belt, he unlocked the door and pushed Minki inside. It smelt of carbolic and bleach, just like a hospital.

‘Where are you taking me?’ she protested. ‘You have no right…I’d like to leave, please.’

‘You’re not going anywhere till I’ve sorted out what you’re doing here.’

The man propelled her down a corridor. She passed a ward filled with iron beds. There were no patients apart from one painfully thin man who was stumbling about, wailing. A nurse hurried towards him. ‘Back into bed with you,’ she said, pushing him down onto the bed and tucking the rough blanket into the mattress so that he couldn’t move.

Minki finally found herself outside an office door markedMatron. The man knocked.

There was a cough, then, ‘Come in,’ came the croaking reply.

The man opened the door and pushed Minki inside. A middle-aged woman in a starched uniform was sitting at her desk, smoking a cigarette.

‘Excuse me, Matron, but I found this person outside, near the barn,’ said the man.

‘Did you indeed?’ The matron looked Minki up and down. ‘And what exactly were you doing there?’

Minki could have lied. She could have made something up on the spot – she was good at lying – but she felt compelled, now she was inside the hospital, to tell the truth.

‘My name is Minki vonZeller and I’m looking for my daughter. My husband Max and I are close personal friends of the Reichsminister, Dr Joseph Goebbels. He suggested we came here. We believe a terrible mistake has been made.’

It was a white lie, of course, but Minki hoped it would be enough to frighten the woman.

The matron raised her eyebrows. ‘Joseph Goebbels? I don’t believe you.’

‘My husband works as a film producer for DrGoebbels at his ministry. You can call his office, if you like, and check.’

Minki paused, letting the information sink in. She was gambling that the woman wouldn’t bother to make the call. The matron studied Minki’s face, and exhaled cigarette smoke.

‘We have been told that our daughter might have been brought here in error,’ Minki went on. ‘You see…she’s not yet ten years old. If she’s here we have permission to take her home.’

It was a bold move, but Minki was on fire, adrenalin coursing through her veins, sharpening her wits. Experience had taught her that if you tell a lie, tell it with confidence.

‘I see,’ said the matron, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘And what is the name of your daughter?’

‘Clara vonZeller…’

‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a moment, I’ll make some enquiries.’

The matron left the office, and returned a few minutes later with a man in a white coat with a stethoscope round his neck.

‘Good morning, Frau vonZeller. My name is Doctor Wahlmann.’ He held out his hand. Reluctantly, Minki shook it; it felt clammy to the touch. The doctor sat down in the Matron’s chair.

‘Please, do sit down. Now…I understand that you think your daughter might be here?’

‘Yes…possibly.’

‘I think that’s most unlikely. We are a mental institution – you may have seen one or two of our patients – they are most unwell…up here.’ He tapped his head. ‘They are challenging to care for. We keep the doors locked in order to protect the patients, but also to protect the people of Hadamar. We have very few children here – only patients with severe mental difficulties.’

The doctor’s manner was smooth, but his face was hard and lined. His eyes were too close together and his mouth set in a firm line. He looked as if he never smiled.

‘I believe my daughter may have been brought here in error. I’m a friend of DrJoseph Goebbels.’

‘Yes, so the matron informed me. You can be assured that if your daughter was here, we would certainly tell you. I am sure you’re mistaken, but to set your mind at rest we will check our records. Many people pass through here, you understand, and we pride ourselves on our meticulous record-keeping.’

The matron, as if on cue, laid four large leather tomes down on the desk in front of the doctor.

‘Excellent, Matron. Well, let’s see, shall we?’ He opened the top ledger, glancing at Minki. ‘When do you think your daughter was brought here?’