Page 2 of The Last Safe Place

“You’re part of it too?” Knut hadn’t expected this; his head was spinning.

Bernd answered with a brief nod.

“Since when?”

“Shortly after Operation Barbarossa. The invasion of the Soviet Union finally opened my eyes. A man who betrays his most important ally is capable of anything.” Bernd frowned. “Unfortunately, my worst fears have proven to be true.”

Dohnanyi took control of the conversation again. “I’ll talk to your superior officer. You’ll be hearing from me, Lieutenant Hesse.”

“Thank you.” Knut was determined to prove to this man that he was trustworthy. “I am at your service. You can rely on me.” He turned and left the office, but couldn’t resist a quick glance at Bernd, who turned his head at the same moment; for a brief second their eyes met. Knut’s heart pounded in his chest. He must be mistaken. He couldn’t possibly get that lucky. Slowly he walked down the long corridor toward the exit. Just as he was approaching the stairs, Bernd caught up with him.

“Wait. I wanted to… I mean…” Bernd’s brown eyes stared at him with such intensity, Knut’s knees went weak. “I mean, I wanted to say, I’ll look forward to working with you again. Dohnanyi is a good boss… and a good person.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” Here in the stairwell, where they could be overheard at any time, it was far too risky to breathe a word about potentially subversive activities.

“Well then,” Bernd said, obviously equally as indecisive as Knut. He seemed to want to add something, but bit his lower lip. “I’d better go. I have a lot of work to do.”

“I took the day off today to take my sister and brother-in-law to Anhalter station.” Again, Knut felt lost for words. He fell silent, feeling incredibly foolish. Inwardly, he scolded himself for his prattling. Bernd couldn’t possibly have any interest in Edith’s story.

“Yes, well then.” Bernd still hesitated, before he finally moved to head upstairs.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” blurted Knut, before burgeoning panic forced him to add an explanation. “I mean, then you could explain the processes in your department.”

Bernd gave him a dazzling smile. “I’d love to. How about this Saturday?”

Knut was flabbergasted. Somehow he managed to nod happily.

“See you Saturday.” And with that, Bernd disappeared up the stairs, leaving Knut in a maelstrom of emotions.

On the way home to his apartment, just a few minutes’ walk from the Bendlerblock, he told himself repeatedly that this appointment was just a work dinner. It meant nothing. But he still felt as though he was walking on air.

2

Leonore Vogel closed her notebook and stowed it in the drawer, before she stepped into her boss’s office in the adjoining room.

“I’m finished for today, unless you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.” Herr Balsen looked up from his desk, where, as usual, there was barely an inch of space to be seen. Books, magazines, notepads and scraps of paper were heaped to gravity-defying heights. When Leonore had started working for Herr Balsen about a year earlier, she’d feared the stacks might tip over at any moment, burying the publisher. Once, she’d even suggested tidying his desk. The memory of his horrified expression still made her smile.

She had long since given up her attempts, since Herr Balsen had proved impervious to change. As his secretary, she kept the rest of the office in order, keeping a meticulous schedule of his many appointments with writers, editors, sales representatives, librarians, typesetters, graphic artists, printers, and suppliers of every kind, but his office remained his own realm. A realm where “creative chaos” reigned – as he was fond of calling it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.” Leonore had wanted to become a journalist, but that dream had been shattered by the law banning Jews from the profession. “Don’t forget you havean appointment with the paper supplier at 9 a.m.” Herr Balsen rarely went home before midnight, and had missed a morning appointment on more than one occasion.

“I won’t.” He looked at her gratefully. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

In reality, it was he who took good care of her: he continued to employ her despite the obstacles to employing a Jewish woman and even paid her more than was her due.

Leonore put on her hat and coat and grabbed her purse before leaving the office. She needed to visit her friend Birgit to collect groceries. Since the hours Jews were allowed to shop had been strictly limited to between 4 and 5 p.m., she rarely managed to get into a store herself. Of course, she could have asked Herr Balsen to give her the hour off, but she didn’t want to leave when there was so much work to do. Besides, her boss was already doing enough for her. So she preferred to ask her Aryan friend; it gave her a good reason to visit.

“Leonore, it’s good to see you,” Birgit greeted her. “Come in for a moment.”

“Thank you.” Leonore took off her shoes and followed her friend into the tiny kitchen, where she made herself comfortable in a chair and downed the apple juice Birgit offered. “Did you manage to get something with my ration cards?”

“I went into two stores that refused to sell me anything, so I had to wait until the afternoon and try again. Unfortunately, the only thing left was potatoes. Everything else was sold out.” Birgit pulled out a small bag of potatoes with a contrite expression and handed it to Leonore.