Two Brothers

you. It was those who skulked that got caught.

Besides Dagmar felt safe. No German would recognize her as the Jewish heiress who had supposedly killed herself in 1939.

But it wasn’t a German who recognized the beautiful woman who was drawing all the admiring glances as she sat sipping her watery acorn coffee in the rubble of the Tiergarten.

It was a Jew.

‘Hello, Dagmar,’ a voice said. ‘Surely you remember me?’

Dagmar didn’t recognize the voice but when she turned around she knew the questioner immediately and her blood ran cold. The woman smiling at her was one just like herself. A beautiful young woman in her twenties. Another Jewish princess who had faded away in the 1930s. A blonde version of Dagmar, but one whose name was whispered in fear by every submarine in Berlin. Stella Kubler, the Jew-catcher.

The exquisite young woman with her Aryan looks and corn-coloured hair, who bought her life afresh each day by denouncement and betrayal.

The woman known to her Gestapo handlers as ‘Blonde Poison’.

‘I don’t know you,’ Dagmar stammered, attempting to disguise her German. ‘I am Hungarian. A maid.’

‘Come on, Dagmar,’ the Jew-hunter said, ‘the game’s up. We went to half a dozen of the same parties together as girls. We were banned from the same pools. Goodness, my parents even went to your dad’s leaving do at the Kempinski Hotel. I’ve often wondered if you’d ever turn up. Certainly never believed that suicide story, not Dagmar Fischer. You do look well, I must say. How have you managed it?’

There were two men standing behind the sinister beauty, two men in coats and Homburg hats. They stepped forward and laid their hands on Dagmar.

The hiding was over. She was finally a prisoner of the Gestapo.

Between Rapunzel and Little Red Riding Hood Berlin, 1956

‘I’VE HEARD OF Stella Kubler, of course,’ Otto said. ‘She got ten years, didn’t she?’

‘That’s right,’ Dagmar replied. ‘They’ve just released her, in fact, and she’s gone to the West. Perhaps someone will slit her throat. I hope so. Not that I can talk. I may not have betrayed two thousand like she did but…’

‘You did betray Silke,’ Otto said, finishing her sentence.

They had begun walking together through the park and had now found their way into the Marchenbrunnen, wandering amongst the hundred and six fantastical fairy-tale sculptures. It almost broke Otto’s heart to remember the beautiful, carefree girl he had once known running amongst those figures. More enchanting than any fictitious magical creature could ever be. Laughing and shrieking and deliberately letting herself be caught between Rapunzel and Little Red Riding Hood.

She was a different person now. Only the physical flesh was the same.

‘Yes. I betrayed her,’ Dagmar said coldly, staring up at the stone figure that was letting down her long golden hair. ‘It was me or her, that’s all there is to it. No one was under any illusions by then about what the Nazis were doing at the end of their train tracks. The BBC had been telling the world for two years. If you were caught, you were killed, and I’d been caught.’

She sat down on the plinth of Rapunzel’s statue.

‘Do you remember, Ottsy?’ she said with a smile. ‘Kiss-chase in the park?’

‘Of course I remember,’ Otto replied. ‘You, me and Pauly. And Silke. She was there too.’

‘Yes. She was, wasn’t she,’ Dagmar said, trying to make her voice sound indifferent. ‘Scowling as usual as I recall. Furious that you were both chasing me.’

‘What happened, Dagmar?’

‘The inevitable happened. The Gestapo took me in and I offered them a deal. Most people tried to do that. Trade their life for someone else’s. There were heroes of course but a fucking sight fewer than they’d have you believe now.’

‘Tell me what happened.’

‘Well, unlike most of them, I really did have something to trade. I said if they’d let me go I’d lead them to a Red Orchestra cell. They couldn’t believe their luck. I remember thinking, why do they bother? The war was so obviously over by then, the Russians were at the gates, but they seemed to care as much as they ever had about chasing Commies and Jews, like a chicken still running after its head’s been cut off. Anyway, they took me to their headquarters and asked a lot of questions and filled in a lot of forms. Forms! Still forms, in triplicate and double-stamped while every building in Berlin was burning. I told them I was being hidden by Communists and where to find them. I said that after that I could recognize others if they’d let me out on a leash. They agreed and I took them back to the apartment and watched from the end of the street while they made their raid. Silke and three others were dragged out of the building. I remember her shouting, “All power to the Soviets.” Can you believe it? She actually shouted it like she was in some Russian propaganda movie. Just ridiculous. They took them away and I was left with one policeman. I was just beginning to think about trying to seduce him when an air raid started. I say started, resumed would be more accurate. The Americans bombed by day, the British by night, it was pretty continuous. Anyway, the cop wanted to get to a shelter and he started running and I just sort of lost him. Just stopped running and let him go. It was such total mayhem in the city by then, bombs falling everywhere, and shells of course with the Russians so close. Anyway, when that particular raid was over I was alone. So I went back to the apartment, which miraculously was never hit. I had literally nowhere else to go and there was some food there and in those last weeks of the war you went pretty much anywhere for food, whatever the risk. I slept in the apartment that night with the whole place to myself for the very first time. I loved it. Just to have the space. The solitude. Just me and the little woolly monkey you saved for me on the night you also saved my life. Won’t you sit beside me, Otts? It’s hard to tell this story.’

Otto sat down beside her on the plinth of Rapunzel’s statue while Snow White smiled at them from the other side of the path.

Two Women Berlin, 1945

DAGMAR AWOKE HAVING slept for a long time. She stretched and yawned and wished she could have a wash but water had become too precious for that.

She got up and, collecting the rainwater tin from its ledge, began to prepare some herb tea. Astonishingly there was still gas for the stove. Bits and pieces of Berlin’s civic infrastructure continued to function right to the end. One could just never be sure which bit. Dagmar had filled the pot with boiling water when she heard the front door.

She froze in terror. Sure that now it was all over. That it was the police come for her once again, and that they would either kill her or she’d be forced to become like Stella Kubler, a poison woman, living by betrayal and murder.

But it wasn’t the police.

It was Silke.

For a moment Dagmar felt herself still in terrible danger. Silke must know of her betrayal. Were the three other Communists behind her with knives and clubs bent on vengeance? The Communists were nothing if not ruthless.

But then Silke ran forward and embraced her.

‘They came for us,’ Silke said. ‘Thank God you were out! To think I tried to stop you.’

‘What happened, Silke? I walked for hours and had to take cover from a raid. When I came home you were gone.’