Stranger at the Gates (39 page)

This country and these people, clean, efficient, polite, were the background of Heinz Minden, who had worked on a project to kill millions, and yet risked himself to save two children of whom he had grown fond. It was the birthplace of Adolph Vierken.

It was impossible to fault them or to explain the feeling of disquiet which was increasing. Perhaps it was the reflex of the war, of years spent equating the sound of German with tyranny and fear. Perhaps the sight of that schoolhouse ringed with armed men, and the huge empty pit at Chemire, which she had gone to see after the Allies took St. Blaize in their advance, had prejudiced her for ever. She didn't know the reason, but she found it very difficult to sleep that night.

The next morning was crisp and sunny; she went for a walk, hoping to admire the city. The charm of the old University City was being eroded, its shape deformed by modern buildings, post-war constructions without beauty or tradition, but there was no attempt to hide its affluence. The cars were sleek and expensive, the shops full of luxuries, priced very high. She found nothing to admire except the weather, which was beautiful. At ten-forty she found a taxi and went to Kopner's office on Hofgarten Strasse.

It was a twenty-storey block, built in granite and glass, and it glittered in the sunshine like an iceberg. His office was on the nineteenth floor; she went up in a soundless lift, arriving in seconds without any sensation of having moved at all.

A smart, attractive secretary showed her into a private waiting room. It was sparsely but beautifully furnished in contemporary style, and there was a fine Klee drawing on one wall. She lit a cigarette and waited. She insisted, almost angrily, that there was no reason to be nervous.

Her watch showed that she was early, by three minutes. At eleven o'clock exactly the secretary came in, smiled and said, ‘Come with me, please. Herr Kopner is expecting you.'

He was a tall man, with receding fair hair and bright blue eyes, soberly but expensively dressed, and when they shook hands, he smelt strongly of toilet-water. He made no attempt to hide his admiration. He kissed her hand and gave a little bow. ‘This is a great pleasure, Comtesse. Please come and sit over here. Cigarette?'

Louise took one out of the handsome aluminium box and he was beside her immediately with a light. The smell of his toilet-water or after-shave, whatever it was, was overpowering.

‘I am delighted to meet you,' Siegfried Kopner said. He had great confidence in his capacity to charm, and he exerted it to the limit. He thought the American woman exceptionally attractive; he had a weakness for good legs, and hers were beautiful, showing discreetly under the dark sealskin coat. Feet also appealed to him; hers were narrow and high arched, clad in hand-made calf shoes. He looked at her and smiled. No wonder poor Minden had made a fool of himself. If she was this striking now, how much more at that time …

‘Thank you for the car,' Louise said. ‘And the flowers. It was very kind of you.'

‘I hope your hotel is comfortable?'

‘Yes, it's very nice.'

‘I have all the data for the defence here,' Kopner said; he laid his hand on a thick hessian folder. ‘I saw Heinz Minden yesterday and I told him you would be coming. He was very grateful.'

‘I want to help if I can,' Louise said. ‘Could you explain exactly what the charge against him is?'

‘Certainly. He's accused of crimes against humanity in that he was working on a nerve gas, which is a weapon outlawed by the Geneva Convention. Unfortunately experiments were carried out upon political prisoners in the early stages of testing the formula, but my client was not concerned with the development of the gas until after this had happened. Otherwise, I'm afraid we would not have any defence to offer.'

‘No,' Louise said. The image of a woman, clasping a child in her arms as she died in terrible convulsions, passed through her mind as he spoke. ‘No, you couldn't possibly defend that.'

‘Believe me, Madame de Bernard, I wouldn't try.' He leaned towards her earnestly. ‘I assure you, I abhor the crimes committed by the Nazis. It's because I know that Heinz Minden is an honest man who was misguided, that I've agreed to take his case. You must believe that.'

‘I'm sorry for him,' Louise said. ‘He was never a bad man, Herr Kopner. He had human feelings; that's more than you could say for some of the others.'

‘Adolph Vierken?' He said the name with a slight smile, a suggestion of sympathy, on his mouth. ‘A monster; a psychopath. Every country in the world has them, but it was just Germany's misfortune to be ruled by the biggest madman of them all. I must say, Frau Minden's story is a little hard to believe. Would you mind if I asked you some questions?'

‘No. If you feel they'll be helpful.'

‘In order to make the most of your testimony, Madame, I must have a clear picture of the facts, all the facts, in my mind. Then the prosecution can't spring any surprises. Not, I assure you, that your evidence will be contested. Now, may I ask you something very personal—was Heinz Minden in love with you?'

‘Yes,' Louise answered quietly. ‘He was.'

Kopner cleared his throat. ‘His wife says that you had an
affaire
with him. Is that true?'

‘He made love to me once; that was all.'

‘I see.' Again he cleared his throat. He half rose from his desk, holding the cigarette box towards her. Louise shook her head.

‘May I ask you how it happened?'

‘I'd rather not discuss it. It hasn't any relevance to your case.'

‘I understand,' he nodded. The look of friendly sympathy had never left his face. He watched her with caution, even with respect. One night. She didn't want to give the details. She could refuse to answer now, but when they were in court …

‘And your sister-in-law Régine de Bernard—she was killed fighting for the Resistance, wasn't she?'

‘Yes,' Louise said. ‘She was acting as a liaison for my husband's group, when she was stopped by an army patrol outside Chartres and shot trying to escape.'

‘Yet according to Frau Minden, she told Heinz Minden that she was not only Adolph Vierken's mistress but that she was in love with him. Is this the truth? I have to ask you these things, Madame, because I have only Frau Minden's word, second hand from her husband. He won't discuss any of it, even with me. I have to be sure she's not exaggerating.'

‘She's not,' Louise answered. ‘It is perfectly true. When Vierken disappeared and Régine discovered what he had planned to do to the children, she changed completely. She became a patriot.'

‘His disappearance has always fascinated me,' Kopner said casually. ‘But then the Resistance knew how to hide their victims.'

The word victim stabbed at her, sharp with warning. She looked into the blue eyes and saw nothing there but friendliness, good will.

‘I'd hardly call Adolph Vierken a victim.'

Kopner mentally kicked at himself. Hard. This was not a woman to be treated carelessly. She was far too intelligent; and not afraid to speak her mind. He was unused to being corrected so sharply and a little colour came up under his well-barbered skin.

‘An unhappy choice of words,' he said. ‘My English is not as good as I would wish. What was the relationship, between Heinz Minden and the rest of the family? Did he get on well with your husband, for example?'

‘Very well,' Louise said. She took a cigarette out of her case and lit it, forestalling him by seconds. ‘He was very generous at a time when we could get very little of anything; he was friendly and never intruded. My husband liked him. He used to play with the children and even go up and sit with my father-in-law. He was an invalid and rather senile. Everyone liked Heinz Minden in the house.'

Yes, Kopner thought, watching her, everyone except you. You didn't like him and it shows by the way you speak. You're trying to be sorry for him, to be impartial. But you hated him; you used his love for you, and because of that love he endangered his life to save your children …

‘Would you ever have described him as a typical Nazi? You know the type, arrogant, bullying?'

‘No, never. He was a quiet man, anxious to be friendly.'

‘Good,' Kopner said. ‘Excellent. And you will say all this in court? You will speak of him as you have done to me?'

‘If you want me to, yes. Because it's the truth. He was like that.'

‘When did your husband die, Madame?'

‘Ten years ago. Why do you ask?'

‘Just for my file,' Kopner said. ‘He was a very brave man, highly decorated, wasn't he?'

‘Yes. He was shot in the back during a battle with a German patrol, and he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair.'

‘Heinz Minden thought very highly of him,' he said. ‘He often talked about him to his wife. He described him as a man of peace.'

‘And so he was,' Louise said. ‘He always hoped to find a reasonable solution to any problem. He hated war and he hated the waste of life.'

‘So it was really the S.S. action against the children that changed him?'

‘Yes it was. It changed the whole village, overnight.'

‘Overnight,' he repeated. ‘Naturally. What an unspeakable crime—it's almost incredible that my countrymen could contemplate such a thing. To murder children. Madame de Bernard, I would like to say something to you.' He stood up; it was a little theatrical as if he were facing an audience.

‘I think it is wonderful of you to come and give evidence on behalf of a German, after what happened at St. Blaize en Yvelines. It shows a truly generous spirit.'

‘I owe it to him,' Louise said quietly. ‘I didn't want to come, to open up the past again. But he deserves to be judged on the good as well as the bad. There is one point I would like you to clarify, Herr Kopner. My evidence will consist only of an account of how he took my children from the school and brought them to Baroness de Cizalle in Paris? Nothing else will be mentioned?'

‘Nothing,' Kopner said. ‘You will be asked for those details and nothing more. Anything else we have discussed is quite irrelevant. You can be assured of that.'

He pressed his intercom button and spoke in German. A woman's voice answered him. ‘I have ordered you a taxi,' he said. ‘I'll take you down to the front hall.'

‘That isn't necessary,' Louise protested. She didn't want to stand about with him, making small talk. ‘I know you're terribly busy. Please don't bother.'

‘It will be a pleasure.' He took her elbow and walked with her out of the offices into the passage. The same atomic type lift shot them to the ground floor, and there, drawn up by the pavement, a taxi cab was waiting. He took Louise's hand and made the obligatory pretence of kissing it. ‘One thing,' he said. ‘Would you be prepared to see Heinz Minden before the trial? I can get permission.' She hesitated. The idea of going to a prison to see someone who must now be an old man repelled her. Kopner looked as if he expected her to agree.

Despising herself, Louise said, ‘If it would help, but I'd rather …'

‘Thank you,' he said quickly. ‘I think it would help him. I'll arrange a visiting time and telephone you later. This evening—about eight o'clock?'

‘All right.' Louise got into the taxi. ‘Would you tell him to take me back to my hotel, please.'

He closed the door, made her a little bow, and spoke rapidly, and in a brisk tone, to the driver. He waved his hand a little as she drove away, and then vanished back into the building. She knew, without being able to rationalise it, that agreeing to see Heinz Minden was the first mistake.

At twelve-thirty Siegfried Kopner left his office. He used a taxi rather than the chauffeur-driven Mercedes which was garaged in the basement of the office block.

He had decided to let the Comtesse de Bernard find her own way to the appointment; the same quirk of meanness which smoked the disgusting cigarettes, resented saving her money on taxi fares. Being met at the airport and greeted by flowers in the hotel should surely be enough to make the right impression. His reason for not using his own car was different; he didn't want anyone to know where he was going. Chauffeurs talked; so did secretaries. His appointment was extremely confidential. He arrived at one o'clock at a large house in the Venusberg district, a smart residential complex, with large expensive houses and gardens. He ran hastily up the steps of a big red sandstone house, built within the last ten years, and disappeared inside. Nobody saw him go in; it was the lunch hour and his compatriots were devoting themselves to eating lunch. Meals in Germany were a serious ritual. It was almost more important to enjoy food than to enjoy life.

The house was heavily furnished, mahogany and gilt, ugly pictures, a massive bronze equestrian group in the hall. He was shown in to a study by a manservant, who didn't ask his name. A man, slightly built, with white hair and a proud face, rose from an armchair and came to meet him. They shook hands. Kopner was stiff, deferential. For a moment or two his host kept him standing. They discussed the weather for two or three sentences, paying tribute to some convention that would not allow them to mention their real business immediately. Then the old man asked him to sit down.

‘We will have some wine,' he said. ‘And we lunch in fifteen minutes. My wife and family are unfortunately not at home.' Kopner, who had not expected anything else, expressed regret. The man he had come to see was one of the most influential politicians in Bonn.

‘Well, Herr Kopner,' he said. ‘What happened this morning?'

‘I had a very useful interview with the lady,' Kopner said.

‘And what sort of impression will she make in court?'

‘Exactly what we want. She is extremely attractive, very poised. The contrast between her and Minden should strengthen our case. She admitted that they had been lovers. Also that her sister-in-law was the S.S. commander's mistress. She described her husband, the Resistance hero, as a man who hated war and always sought a compromise whenever possible.'