How sad that we never said good-bye. How many times I have said it over and over to myself and hoped that perhaps my love for you would be strong enough to carry the message across the miles and through the air and into your heart.
I wish we had lived in a different time when there was love in the world instead of hate, when there was caring instead of cruelty. Such wishful thinking!
My days with you were the happiest time of my life. You shared the world with me and what a splendid world it was! In this misery, that memory makes me smile, makes my heart beat faster, brightens these awful hours.
And I think of Bert, too, and how serious he is and how hard he tries to tell the rest of the world what is really happening. Give him a kiss for me. But save the rest for your lips.
I love you, my darling. Please remember me as someone who gave her heart freely and gratefully and who was rewarded with joy and love and happiness.
My heart’s love, sweet Kee. Stay well.
Jenny
September 23, 1938
There was a note attached to the painting:
Keegan:
Werner has a story to tell you. When last we saw each other, you said “I owe you one.” Werner will tell you how you can pay it. I am sorry about Jenny. If her blood had been the same as mine, I could not have loved her more. Avrum.
There was one other item in the package. It was the list of the hostages murdered by Eicke. Jenny Gould was the first name on the list.
Keegan felt only cold wrath.
“You have a story to tell me,” he said.
Gebhart found it difficult to tell the story. Raised within the strict religious confines of the Hasidim, that most disciplined of Jewish sects, he so detested violence that to consciously relive the night he was about to describe was a painful experience. But he had promised Avrum he would take the message to Keegan and he was a man of his word.
“Before I start, I must tell you that I cannot see you again after tonight. I think you understand why. I must trust that you will not give up my identity.”
“I might be able to help you.”
Gebhart shook his head. “You will understand when I finish.”
Keegan nodded. “Whatever you wish. I’m just sorry we can’t be friends, but I agree.”
Gebhart took a swig of beer, wiped his lips with the back of his hand and then began:
“A Spion infiltrated our group in Berlin. He was friendly and very clever, very quick. A young man named Isaac Fish. He was planted by Vierhaus and he came to us very roundabout. Munich, Dusseldorf, Essen, finally Berlin. He worked his way slowly to get next to Avrum. His mission was to kill Avrum. Supposedly he had escaped from Dachau. They have begun now to tattoo numbers on the arms of the prisoners and this man had such a number.”
“Tattoo numbers on their arms?” Keegan said incredulously.
‘ja. It has become so bad now, everyone is paranoid. So Avrum decided to double- check Fish. We got the list of Dachau prisoners and sure enough, there was Isaac Fish and the correct number. The only thing wrong was that the real Isaac Fish was one of the hostages killed with Jenny.”
He pointed to the name on the list in Keegan’s hand.
“Avrum went crazy! I have never seen him like that before. He howled like an animal when he realized we were being betrayed. We took Fish to a farmhouse outside Berlin. It was supposed to be an important meeting of the Lily. Avrum had gone out beforehand and set up a torture cell in the smoke cellar.
“When Avrum accused Fish, the Spion went crazy. He pleaded for his life. Avrum laughed at him and the more Fish pleaded for his life, the harder Avrum laughed. Avrum . . attached electrodes from a twelve-volt battery to . . . to . . . his testicles. The screaming. . . it was the worst sound I ever heard in my life. We had a woman with us, one of our members, who is a trained secretary, and she took down every word Fish said. He identified three other agents. One of them in Zurich had set up the trap for our friend Joachim. They had ambushed him in the street and cut his throat. He lay there.. . he could not scream from the pain. He could not . . . cry . . . for help
He paused for a moment. His lips were trembling as he continued.
“Another one had infiltrated our group in Vienna. When it was obvious the man who called himself Fish had nothing else to tell us, Avrum shot him in the head. And then he swore to kill the other three. He killed the man in Zurich and the one in Vienna but the third one was out of his reach.
“After we interrogated Fish, Avrum told me to memorize all the shorthand notes so I could give the information to you. Only three people know about this, Ire. The woman who took the notes, Avrum and me. You will make four.”
“I’m listening.”
“Fish said that when he was in training in the Bavarian Alps there was another agent there. A very special man who was kept separate from the others and known only as Siebenundzwanzig..
“Twenty-seven?”
‘Ja. This agent was being trained for something very special, a mission in America.”
