Pilgrim Soul (38 page)

‘Danny getting about, eh? So we have two houses, with Bathsheba and her aunt flitting between. But who is Bathsheba?’

‘That’s what I’m coming to. I got this telegram from Iain today.’ She handed me the paper.

I smoothed the crumpled yellow sheet on the bench and read the pencilled words: ‘Records Ravensbrück camp show one Bathsheba Goldstein stop 48-year-old Jewess from Vienna stop Admitted camp 25 June 1943 died typhus 12 January 1945 stop Hope helps stop Iain Scrymgeour’.

I looked up. ‘Who is she?’

‘And what do we say to Danny?’

We walked up the steep streets to Sam’s house. We tried out theory after theory but none of them made sense. Or rather, only one made sense and it was too gut-churning to articulate until we’d tried all the others.

‘Is it really such an unusual name, do you think?’ Sam suggested.

‘I have no idea. But you’d need strong-minded parents to call your daughter after the woman who enticed King David to murder his favourite general.’

‘Giving her the benefit of the doubt, does her story work? Could she have been lying low in Paris through the war? You took French at Glasgow as well as German.’

‘I never tried French on her. Never any need.’

‘But she got herself shot while facing that Nazi woman, Mandel. That puts her on our side, doesn’t it?’

‘She spoke Polish to her, Sam. I don’t know what they said. Then Mandel killed herself with a cyanide pill. Where did she get it?’

‘Good God. Are you saying
she
gave it to her, Douglas?’

‘I’m not closing off any idea.’

‘Your boys spotted Langefeld in the crowd. I thought he got the pill to Mandel?’

‘We don’t know. The question is: how did he know to be there? Who told him?’

‘But why would she get so involved with you and Shimon Belsinger? Oh, I see . . .’

‘It’s the perfect place to hide. Right in front of us. And it means she could see exactly what was going on.’

‘And tell the others?’

‘One of whom was Langefeld. Another is this
aunt
of hers.’

We were silent for a while as we zigzagged our way up the steepness of Park Street. We got our breath back on the flat at the top of the terrace and looked out over the park. Patches of grey-green were being uncovered at the top of the great white hollow. The trees were now bare and wet. Was it conceivable that they’d leaf? That the world would come back from the dead?

Sam quietly asked, ‘So you think it was her?’ She knew what had been drumming through my mind for days.

‘Someone knew how much Isaac meant to me. Someone tried to use that – use
him
and Shimon – to get me to free Langefeld. It points to someone in the Jewish platoon. It could have been any one of them.’

‘But it would have been simpler to have warned Langefeld.’

I nodded. ‘I told the boys the night before the ambush. Everyone who was there knew about it. All they had to do was contact Langefeld that night and we’d have lost him.’

‘Bathsheba wasn’t there.’

‘No, she wasn’t.’

FIFTY-NINE

Sam was wearing galoshes but the slush and blocked gutters and pockets of deep snow had got over the tops and inside. My leather shoes might as well have been cardboard. We poured the water out at the door and squelched into the hall. Danny’s coat and hat were hanging up, dripping. His outdoor shoes were sitting in a pool of water under the coat rack. We looked at each other, knowing we couldn’t duck this moment.

Sam called out, ‘Danny. We’re home.’

There was silence for a moment, then: ‘I’m down here,’ from the kitchen.

Sam and I stripped off our outer clothes and padded down. She pushed open the door and said a quiet ‘Oh’ before I followed her in.

Danny was sitting at the table. In front of him was a mug and a gun. Opposite him sat Bathsheba. Her mouth was gagged. Her eyes were huge and appealing. Her arms seemed to be restrained behind her.

‘Come in, come in. The kettle’s no’ long boiled,’ he said. He pushed the Webley towards me. ‘Here you go, Brodie. Keep an eye on her and I’ll make some more tea.’

‘Danny, what the hell . . .?’ started Sam.

‘Oh, do I need to explain? I’m sure you smart pair are already in the know. The lovely Bathsheba here is playing for the other side. Aren’t you, hen?’

Bathsheba made mewling noises and shook her head at us.

Sam and I slid into seats facing the girl.

‘Tell us, Danny. Tell us what you know,’ I asked.

He clattered the kettle on to the ring and lit the gas. He turned back to us.

‘It’s my modest nature, Brodie. I’m not the prettiest boy in town, especially with this side parting. And I was just always a bit surprised at this lovely wee burd throwing herself at me.’

‘Hardly grounds for tying her up and poking a gun at her.’

‘Agreed. It was a couple of other things. In Dachau, as you ken, I picked up some German, some Hebrew and Yiddish. But there were a lot of Poles about, including all yon Polish priests the Archbishop of Glasgow mentioned to you.’

‘So you know Polish?’

‘I have a few words. Enough.’

I looked at the girl. ‘What did she say to Warden Mandel?’

‘I didn’t get everything. But outside the door, this lady here seemed to be asking Mandel to trust her. That it would be all right. Then Mandel fired the shotgun. When we got inside, Mandel accused her of being after her gold. Like
Klaus
. Presumably Klaus Langefeld. This one said she was being stupid. That Mandel was going to be tortured and hanged. Mandel said the same would happen to her. She would see to it. That’s when our girl here slapped her.’

‘You could interpret it differently,’ I said. ‘She could just have been following our line, but a bit more enthusiastically.’

‘Possible. That’s what I thought at first. But then we find Mandel takes a pill or is given a pill and, boom, she’s gone. And Langefeld is skulking about the scene. We have a story that fits.’

‘Tell us.’

‘Mandel was spending too much, throwing her gold around. Imperilling the rest of them and the network. Langefeld tried to stop her. That was the argument the old boy said he overheard. Girly here is on Langefeld’s side and chooses not to warn Mandel we were coming. She was happy for Mandel to get taken and planned to make sure she didn’t talk. She didn’t expect the shotgun. Which is why she skelped Mandel. When she had her in a clinch, she probably convinced Mandel that a cyanide pill was preferable to swinging from a rope. She would have slipped it into her blouse when they were rolling around the floor.’

‘That’s a lot of speculation, Danny. Anything else?’

Danny filled the teapot with tea leaves and then boiling water. He hefted the still steaming kettle, as though he was minded to pour it over the girl’s head. She was watching it, panic-eyed.

‘Lots. She was the only one of our gang that wasn’t at the meeting that night, the day Mandel got taken. So she didn’t know her pal Langefeld had been spotted. So she couldn’t warn him.’

He put the kettle down. Bathsheba – or whatever her name was – quietened. She sat staring at Danny with furious eyes as though she could torch him into silence with her gaze.

Danny went on. ‘The first time she knew about it was when I met her that morning, wasn’t it, darlin’? There’s a café in Anderston we’ve met in before. She was there that morning. Stupid old me told her what we were planning. She was shocked. She said how worried she was for me. How dangerous it was. Now I know why she was shocked. She tried to get to Langefeld’s flat to warn him, but it was too late. He’d already gone off for his haircut. But it gave her enough time, didn’t it?’

Sam asked, ‘Enough time for what?’

‘To clear out her own papers,’ he replied.

‘She was Langefeld’s woman?’ Sam said.

Danny smiled. ‘Exactly. Christ, I’m such an eejit. I took her round to the flat in Anderston a couple of times. Even met her there once. By arrangement with her. But it was really a cover. Her wee love nest was in Carlton Close. Wasn’t it,
liebchen
?’

‘How do you know for sure, Danny?’

‘Because you and I waited all bloody night for the mystery woman to show at the flat, and she never did. How did she know? Because stupid me telt her, that morning.’

Our gaze was drawn back to her. Her eyes had filled as Danny had been piling up the case. Now they overflowed. Soulful beauty is a powerful weapon. It would have softened the hardest heart. Normally. Danny supped his tea.

‘Spare us, sweetheart. You’re for the high jump.’

‘In the meantime, Danny, what about this so-called aunt?’ I asked. ‘Any ideas?’

He shook his head. ‘Nup. I called her number and went round there.’

‘So I heard. I must have just missed you,’ said Sam.

‘No sign of auntie. As you’ve found out too. Shall we summon Duncan? Ask him to bring a warrant to knock down auntie’s door?’ he said.

‘Certainly. And tell him to bring some handcuffs.’ I nodded at the girl. ‘Have you found out her real name? Sam, tell him what you found about the real Bathsheba Goldstein.’

‘She was a Jewess from Vienna. Aged forty-eight. They took her to Ravensbrück. She died early in ’45.’

‘But her identity seems to have escaped.’ I looked at the woman who’d called herself Bathsheba. ‘Were you one of the kindly nurses working in the camp, I wonder?’

She said nothing, just stared at me, her face streaked, her eyes red.

‘Can we take the gag off, Danny?’

‘Help yourself. Watch she doesn’t bite.’

I walked round and untied the dishtowel that was tight round her head. She spluttered and shook her long brown hair. I wanted to stroke it. I wanted to throttle her. I wanted to walk out and get some fresh air. I sat down next to her, noting that both wrists were tied to the chair back.

‘Bastards!’ she spat. ‘Bloody bastards!’ Then switched to a stream of German invective that would have got me a clip round the ear back in university. I let her rant for a minute or two without even slapping her. Finally she stopped, chest heaving.

‘Did you arrange the murder of Malachi? What’s your name?’ I asked.

This time she did spit. I lifted my hand. She flinched.

‘Brodie!’ said Sam. ‘Don’t! You’ll get nothing from her.’

It was too easy to get into the habit of slapping Nazi women. I was already ashamed of myself for even thinking of doing it. Even for Isaac. Especially for gentle Isaac. I lowered my arm and got up.

‘I’ll call Duncan. Then we discuss next steps.’

SIXTY

Duncan was round in ten minutes, bell clanging on his squad car. The neighbours would be getting a petition up.

I briefed him in the hall and he sent two uniforms down to bring up the girl. The struggle had gone out of her, but her look of sheer malevolence required no words. Duncan charged her with enough crimes to see her hanged and sent the car off without him. We went back down to the kitchen together and took stock with Sam and Danny.

‘That was very nearly a decent piece of detective work, boys. Some of my teaching stuck after all.’

‘Is this you taking the credit again, Duncan?’ I asked. ‘You’ve already had one promotion out of me.’

‘Can ye no’ take a compliment, Brodie? Anyway, was she pretending to be a nurse here?’

‘That’s the one thing that checks,’ said Danny. ‘She claimed to be working at the Glasgow Cancer Hospital. I phoned them. They do have a Nurse Bathsheba Goldstein on the books.’

‘My God, Danny! Do you know where that is?’ asked Sam, beating me to it.

He looked puzzled. ‘If I did, I’ve forgotten.’

‘It’s on Hill Street. Opposite the Garnethill synagogue.’

It was cause enough to break out the whisky. To help us think. The four of us reconvened in the lounge with full tumblers and shortbread to soak it up.

Duncan started. ‘Was it just coincidence, do you think? The hospital opposite the synagogue?’

‘What would she have gained by arranging it that way?’ Danny asked.

‘Hiding in the open, surely. She stole the identity of a real person, like Draganski. Remember Dragan? When she got here, with a name like Bathsheba, it was better to hide among the Jewish community,’ I suggested.

‘Joining your hunting party, Douglas, was deliberate,’ said Sam.

‘Risky but smart. It meant they were always one step ahead of us. They were stuck here and must have felt the net closing. With Salinger out of action, the escape route is truly cut off. Caged rats.’

‘Is that why they killed Malachi, do ye think?’ asked Duncan. ‘What else did he learn from torturing Langefeld? Did he get more names? An address? Did he find out about Salinger?’

We sat quietly sipping our Scotch and digesting the options.

‘Let’s agree what we do know,’ I said. ‘A man like Malachi attracts a lot of enemies. Mal was either murdered for what he knew or what he did. Revenge for Langefeld? We don’t know if the four men who snatched him were the same crew that kidnapped Shimon and Isaac. Or if they were Nazi runaways or members of Irgun.’

‘You’ve got ma heid spinnin’, Brodie. Why would Jewish terrorists do him in?’ asked Duncan. ‘I thought he was on their side?’

‘I think Mal did get more out of Langefeld. A pointer to Suhren, their king rat? Irgun seem to want Suhren as badly as we do. They didn’t want Mal blabbing about it to the authorities before they get hold of him. But it could have been some other gang with a grudge.’

‘Och, don’t tell me there’s another crew of bampots out there, Brodie. Somebody we huvnae heard of yet.’

‘A good cop keeps an open mind, Duncan. That’s what you taught us,’ I went on. ‘We also know there’s another woman out there. Bathsheba’s – or rather the woman we thought was Bathsheba – her “aunt”. Is she a Nazi on the run? Or just a helpful local? Is she the Leith contact point?’

Duncan was holding his head in his hands at the thought of the spreading ripples. I lobbed another stone in his pond.

‘We need to find her before they restart the rat line.’

‘Or there’s another death,’ added Sam.

‘Christ!’ Duncan muttered.

A little later, when both the whisky and the shortbread ran out, we drew lots. Danny and Duncan lost out and were sent off into the damp night on a sacred mission. Within the hour they returned triumphant, with four fish suppers and two bottles of Bell’s. We tucked in.