doesn’t seem to have much promise.’ Richtoff reached for his beer.
‘And the pressure tank? What’s that for?’ Brandt asked.
‘Low-pressure simulation of an oxygen-thin environment,’ Richtoff replied. ‘Your Kommandant, being a qualified high-altitude diver, knows quite a bit about this.’
‘It’s been a while now,’ von Hei?en replied.
‘We’ve also tested this at Auschwitz,’ Richtoff continued, ‘but in Mauthausen we’re planning to use women as well as men. The human body functions best at sea level, where the bloodstream is saturated with oxygen, but at altitudes above 15 000 feet, the oxygen levels are halved and the body needs to acclimatise. At Auschwitz we found that most subjects died once the altitude simulation reached 23 000 feet. At that height it’s difficult to sleep and the digestion system breaks down. But one lasted past 25 000 feet and we’ve kept his organs for further analysis.’
‘How many specimens do you need, Herr Doktor?’ Brandt asked.
‘Forty will do to start with. Twenty men and twenty women, but they must be fit.’
‘Include the Weizman woman in the first batch, Hans – and make sure those brats of hers are forced to watch. Perhaps next time the boy will not be so keen to hide things from the Reich. In the meantime, in honour of your arrival, Eduard, I’ve ordered some very nice wine for dinner.’
Night descended on the quarry, and a team of soldiers finished removing gold fillings from the bodies at the base of the cliff. A large bulldozer, smoke pouring from the exhaust flap, manoeuvred into position and began shovelling the corpses towards a refuse pit. Back behind the forbidding stone walls of the prisoner compound, the inmates were standing in the cold between the barrack blocks, waiting for roll call. Ramona did her best to comfort Ariel and Rebekkah, her spirit unbroken but her heart torn apart, aching for the man she’d loved with every fibre of her being.
‘Tomorrow, you’ll both be transferred to work in the laundry, Lieblings,’ Ramona whispered. ‘If someone offers to help you, you’re to do exactly as they tell you, all right?’
‘But what about you, Mama?’ Ariel asked. His face was white, his whole world shattered. Rebekkah looked up at her mother, struggling to understand what had happened.
‘Mama will be fine… you look after your little sister,’ Ramona said to Ariel, adjusting Rebekkah’s blonde locks. ‘Promise me.’
‘I promise,’ Ariel whispered, gripping his mother’s hand more tightly.
17
A riel went to Rebekkah’s aid. The laundry bag was nearly as big as she was, and Rebekkah was battling to load it into the back of a battered blue van that made the daily run, carrying the SS officers’ laundry into the little town of Mauthausen. Ariel and Rebekkah turned to go back for the last of the bags, but the driver, a young woman with pale-blue eyes, beckoned to them from the side of the van that was hidden from the watchtowers.
‘Listen carefully,’ she whispered. ‘My name is Katrina and you must do exactly as I say. There’s a space in the back of the van near the cabin, and when the truck is full you must climb over the bags and pull them on top of you. I will lock the doors behind you.’ Katrina glanced calmly to the left and right to make sure they were not being observed. ‘Quickly now, get the last two bags.’
‘But what about Mama?’ Rebekkah pleaded with Ariel.
‘Mama said we have to do exactly what the lady says,’ Ariel said reassuringly, displaying a maturity beyond his years.
‘Was ist los?’ The Nazi guard’s piggy eyes narrowed as he walked out of the laundry shed.
‘ Beeilen Sie sich! Hurry up, you lazy scum! I haven’t got all day.’ Katrina shoved Ariel and Rebekkah past the guard towards the doors of the loading dock. ‘They’re so lazy, those two,’ she said, shaking her head at the guard and getting into the driver’s seat.
‘What do you expect? They’re Jews!’ The guard turned to follow Ariel and Rebekkah.
Katrina switched on the ignition. The engine turned rapidly, but didn’t fire. Katrina tried again and then a third time, but the engine still refused to start. The guard, Katrina noted, was coming back.
‘ Scheisse! ’ Katrina swore. She lifted the van’s stubby bonnet and retrieved from her pocket a rotor coated in green powder.
‘It’s the rotor,’ Katrina said, looking at it in disgust. ‘Do you have any sandpaper in your workshop?’ she asked, slipping the guard a packet of Sleipner cigarettes.
‘Jawohl!’ the guard replied, smiling snidely at Katrina. ‘Come with me.’
Katrina let the guard walk in front of her and turned back to Ariel and Rebekkah, giving a quick jerk of her head towards the back of the van.
Ariel grabbed a corner of his sister’s bag and dragged it along with his own. He helped Rebekkah onto the tailgate, climbed in after her and closed the van doors quietly.
‘Quickly,’ he whispered, glancing through the van window. He could see Katrina walking alongside the guard, scrubbing something with a piece of paper. ‘They’re coming back!’ They climbed over the piles of laundry bags, sat against the back of the cabin, and covered themselves with the bags in front. Rebekkah was breathing hard and Ariel reached for her hand and squeezed it.
‘There’s always something,’ Katrina complained, snapping the plastic cover back onto the distributor and slamming the bonnet. ‘ Vielen Dank.’
‘ Bitte. Any time. Perhaps you would like a drink after work?’
‘We’ll see.’ Katrina let out the clutch and eased the van towards the heavy wooden doors and granite towers that marked Mauthausen’s entrance. The fat guard gave a wave and headed off towards the toilet block for a smoke. Katrina drove slowly, expecting the guards to open the gates, but the thin, spindly man on duty climbed down from the watchtower and signalled for her to stop.
‘Was ist in der Lastwagen?’ he demanded.
‘ Nur schmutzige Wasche. Just some dirty laundry,’ Katrina replied.
‘ Offnen Sie! ’
Katrina shrugged, got out and opened the back doors of the van.
Ariel and Rebekkah instinctively pressed themselves against the metal back of the cabin. One by one the guard pulled the big blue bags out of the truck until there were only two rows remaining. Suddenly, the guard fixed his bayonet to his rifle and thrust it between two of the bags. Ariel and Rebekkah winced as the blade flashed between them and punctured the flimsy metal of the cabin.
‘ Entschuldigung? ’ Katrina inquired nonchalantly.
‘ Was! ’
‘I just thought I’d mention that Obersturmbannfuhrer von Hei?en’s uniforms are in those bags. Perhaps the kommandant will not be too pleased if he finds a bayonet tear in his tunics?’
The SS guard grunted and got out of the truck. ‘Load them back in and get on your way!’ he ordered, turning on his heel and climbing back into the watchtower.
Ariel squeezed Rebekkah’s hand again. With his other hand he checked to ensure the map he’d managed to keep from the Nazis was still in his pocket.
Half an hour later, Katrina slowed the van to a stop on a side road in a forest. She opened the back doors and passed in a small bag.
‘There are some clothes in there. We’ll be in Vienna in another couple of hours, but I want you to get changed while we’re moving, because when you get out, you’ll be going straight on board a ship.’
‘Thank you,’ Ariel replied numbly. ‘Would you have a piece of paper and a pencil?’
‘Yes; just a moment.’
‘What do you want paper for?’ Rebekkah asked as the van regained the highway.
‘I tried to memorise those figures on the map the German took. Papa said they were important.’ A tear dropped onto the paper as Ariel reproduced the map as best he could, but he could only remember one of the three
