Page 10 of The Last Safe Place

Birgit shook her head. “I almost died of fright. Did you see the party badge on the old bag’s collar?”

“Well, it goes without saying she’s a Nazi. Nobody else is allowed to fulfil such a noble role as ticket checking.” Leonore tossed her head, making her curls bounce. “I just want to have a little fun, the same as you.”

“I understand that. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it, right Leo?”

“It always turns out alright.”

But Birgit wouldn’t drop the matter. “Do you remember that time the SS man wanted to see your papers and you calmly showed him Mathilde’s sister’s identity card?”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” Six months on, and it still sent a shiver down Leonore’s spine. Mathilde’s sister had been in bed with flu, and Mathilde had offered Leonore her sister’s identitycard. Unfortunately, the SS officer had noticed that Leonore didn’t look at all like the photo, and had wanted to take her to the police station. It was only thanks to Birgit’s quick thinking on that occasion that Leonore still had her liberty.

“My heart almost stopped.” Birgit shuddered.

“So you fainted like a stage heroine. There are few enough opportunities to have fun, thanks to this stupid war. Besides, it may interest you to learn that I’m safer with you than I am alone wearing a plaster.”

Leonore had told her best friend many times of her experiences wearing the yellow star: passersby hurling abuse, spitting at her, or even punching her. It was hardly any wonder she preferred not to wear it.

Birgit grimaced. “Well, yes. But what if they arrest you for it?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something. If all else fails, Herr Balsen will come to my aid.”

“As long as you’re not mistaken about him.”

“You don’t know him as well as I do.” As a well-known publisher, Herr Balsen had used his connections on more than one occasion to get his Jewish acquaintances out of trouble. Fortunately, Leonore herself had never needed to call upon his help.

“I don’t doubt his good intentions, just the amount of influence he can exert to get you out of the clutches of the authorities once they have you.”

Leonore shook her curls. “You’re making me feel very depressed. Let’s dance again.”

7

BERLIN, NOVEMBER 1941

Knut couldn’t sit still. Edith was back. And things were about to get much worse for her. He felt the need to physically run the indignation out of his body. Regardless of the late hour, he put on his hat and coat and left his apartment.

In the hallway, the nosy neighbor was lurking. “Going out again, Lieutenant Hesse?”

He owed Frau Stenzel no explanation, but to avoid bad blood, he politely replied, “An urgent official matter.” And, since a question as to the exact nature of the official matter clearly lay ready on her tongue, he added, “Top secret.”

The neighbor knew, of course, that he worked for the Abwehr, and wasn’t allowed to reveal any details. This wasn’t entirely true. Until recently he had carried out administrative duties in the logistics section. Officially, that was still the case, but now he was working more closely with Hans von Dohnanyi. But secret and subversive or not, he felt no desire to reveal his duty roster to this gossipmonger.

However, Frau Stenzel wasn’t easily fobbed off. She regarded it as her personal mission to know everything about everyone in the building, presumably so she could report any irregularities,genuine or imagined, to the Gestapo posthaste. “What a shame. Is that why your lady friend left in such a hurry?”

He briefly toyed with the idea of letting the neighbor believe Edith was his lover, then thought better of it. “That was my sister. And yes, she is used to my service to the fatherland always coming first. Please excuse me, this matter is very urgent.”

Frau Stenzel stepped aside, her sour smile proof enough that she would have liked to interrogate him further about Edith. “That nice young man earlier – I suppose he works in your department, too.”

“Top secret, Frau Stenzel.” Knut couldn’t escape fast enough. On an appropriate occasion, he would have to provide the neighbor with a credible explanation of why Bernd would be visiting more often. His heart began to beat faster just at the thought. After their first kiss a few weeks ago at the S-Bahn station, everything had moved very quickly. Knut had truly found his other half, his soulmate, his best friend and counselor, his partner and lover.

A warm feeling of happiness spread through him. He decided he must visit Bernd and tell him about Edith and Julius’ terrible experiences. About forty-five minutes later, he was standing in front of the impressive villa belonging to Bernd’s parents. Heinz Ruben was a wealthy industrialist who had struck an advantageous arrangement with the Nazis, profiting handsomely from his war production. Bernd lived in a two-bedroom apartment on the ground floor of the villa. So far, Knut had never been inside. Bernd’s parents must never find out about their son’s homosexuality.

They would have thrown him out of the house, or even denounced him, just as Knut’s own parents would have done. He rang the bell, and Bernd, who had exchanged his uniform for a more comfortable dark blue suit, opened the door.

“What are you doing here? Has something happened?” he asked with a horrified expression.

Knut nodded wordlessly.

“Come in.” Bernd gestured to his cozy living room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll prepare us a hot toddy.”