reasons?’
‘When I tried to explain it to Judith once she found my reasons to be more aesthetic than moral. I was disgusted by the attitude of my colleagues during and after their re-employment, the lack of any awareness of their own guilt. All right, I could have got involved again if I’d had a different attitude and kept the guilt in mind. But I’d have felt like an outsider, and so I preferred to stay properly outside.’
‘The longer you sit there facing me, the clearer I see you as the young prosecutor. Of course you’ve changed. But there’s still that sparkle in your eyes, more mischievous now, and that cleft in your chin was already a dimple back then. What were you thinking of, to wipe the floor with Dohmke and me like that? I’ve just been working on the trial in my memoirs.’
‘The trial came up again for me recently, as well. That’s why I’m glad to be able to talk to you. In San Francisco I met the partner of the late prosecution witness Professor Weinstein and discovered his testimony was false. Someone from the Works and an SS officer put pressure on him. Do you have any idea, or do you even know who could have had an interest in your and Dohmke’s disappearance? I hate to have been used as the tool of unknown interests.’
Tyberg rang a bell, the butler appeared, tidied up, and served sherry. Tyberg sat there, frowning, staring into space. ‘I started pondering this in prison while I was awaiting trial, and to this day I have found no answer. Time and again I’ve thought of Weismuller. That was also the reason I didn’t want to return to RCW immediately after the war. But I’ve no confirmation for this notion. I’ve also been preoccupied for a long time by how Weinstein could have given that testimony. That he made it to my desk, found the manuscript in the drawer, misinterpreted it, and reported me, I found devastating enough. But his testimony about a conversation between Dohmke and myself that never took place was even more devastating. I wondered if it was all for a few advantages at the camp. Now I hear he was forced. It must have been terrible for him. Did his partner know and tell you that he tried to contact me after the war, and I refused? I was too hurt and he must have been too proud to tell me in his letter about the pressure he’d been under.’
‘What happened to your research at the RCW, Herr Tyberg?’
‘Korten kept going with it. It was the result anyway of close cooperation between Korten, Dohmke, and myself. The three of us had also made the decision together that we would only pursue the one path to begin with, and put the other on the backburner. The whole thing was our baby, you see, that we jealously hatched and tended and didn’t let anyone near. We didn’t even let Weinstein into our confidence although he was an important part of our team, scientifically almost on equal footing. But you wanted to know what happened to our research. Since the oil crisis I wonder sometimes if it won’t become highly topical again all of a sudden. Fuel synthesis. We’d gone at it a different way from Bergius, Tropsch, and Fischer because from the outset we attributed great significance to the cost factor. Korten continued the development of our process with great dedication, and readied it for production. That work was, quite rightly, the basis of his swift ascent in the RCW even though after the end of the war the process itself was no longer of importance. Korten, I believe, had it patented, though, as the Dohmke-Korten- Tyberg process.’
‘I don’t know if you realize how dreadful I feel that Dohmke was hanged; and equally how happy I am that you managed to escape. It’s mere curiosity, of course, but would you mind telling me how you did it?’
‘That’s sort of a long story. I want to tell you, but… you will stay for dinner, won’t you? How about afterwards? I’ll just let them know so the butler can prepare the food and make a fire. And until then… Do you play an instrument, Herr Self?’
‘The flute, but I haven’t had any time to play all summer and autumn.’
He stood up, fetched a flute case from the Biedermeier cupboard and had me open it. ‘Do you think you can play this?’ It was a Buffet. I put it together and played a few scales. It had a wonderfully soft, yet clear tone, jubilant in the high reaches, in spite of my bad intonation after the long break. ‘Do you like Bach? How about the Suite in B minor?’
We played until dinner, after the Suite in B minor, Mozart’s Concerto in D major. He played the piano confidently and with great expression. I had to bluff my way through some of the fast passages. At the end of the pieces Judith laid her knitting aside and clapped.
We ate duck with chestnut stuffing, dumplings, and red cabbage. The wine was new to me, a fruity Merlot from Tessin. By the fire, Tyberg asked us to keep his story to ourselves. It would be made public soon, but until then discretion would be appreciated. ‘I was in Bruchsal Penitentiary, in the death cell waiting for my execution.’ He described the cell, the everyday routine on death row, knocking on the wall to communicate with Dohmke in the neighbouring cell, the morning Dohmke was taken away. ‘A few days later I was also taken, in the middle of the night. Two members of the SS were demanding my transfer to a concentration camp. And then I realized one of the SS officers was Korten.’ That same night he had been taken over the border beyond Lorrach by Korten and the other SS man. On the other side two gentlemen from Hoffmann La Roche were waiting for him. ‘The next morning I was drinking chocolate and eating croissants, as though it were the middle of peacetime.’
He could tell a good story. Judith and I listened, captivated. Korten. Again and again he filled me with amazement, or even admiration. ‘But why couldn’t this be made public?’
‘Korten is more modest than he appears. He emphatically asked me to hush up his role in my escape. I’ve always respected that, not only as a modest, but also as a wise gesture. The deed wouldn’t have sat well with the image of a top industrialist that he was fashioning then. It was only this summer that I revealed the secret. Korten’s standing is universally recognized these days, and I think he’ll be happy if the story appears in the portrait that
He put another log on the fire. It was eleven o’clock.
‘One other question, Frau Buchendorff, before the evening’s over. Would you care to work for me? Since I’ve been writing my memoirs I’ve been looking for someone to conduct research for me in the RCW archive, in other archives and in libraries, someone who’ll read things over with a critical eye, who’ll get used to my handwriting and type the final manuscript. I’d be happy if you could start on the first of January. You would be based mostly in Mannheim, and be here for an occasional week or two. The pay wouldn’t be worse than before. Think it over until tomorrow afternoon, give me a call, and if you say yes, we can discuss details tomorrow.’
He escorted us to the garden gate. The butler was waiting with the Jaguar to take us back to the hotel. Judith and Tyberg said goodbye with a kiss to the left and right cheek. When I shook his hand he smiled at me and winked. ‘Will we meet again, Uncle Gerd?’
12 Champagne and sardines on my own
At breakfast Judith asked what I thought of Tyberg’s proposal.
‘I liked him,’ I began.
‘I’m sure you did. You were quite a number, you two. When the prosecutor and his victim adjourned for chamber music, I couldn’t believe my ears. It’s all very well that you like him, so do I, but what do you think of his proposal?’
‘Accept it, Judith. I don’t believe a better thing could come along for you.’
‘And that I interest him as a woman doesn’t make the job difficult?’
‘But that can happen in any workplace, you’ll be able to deal with it. And Tyberg is a gentleman, he won’t grope you under your skirt during dictation.’
‘What will I do when he’s finished with his memoirs?’
‘I’ll come back to that in a minute.’ I stood, went over to the breakfast buffet, and, as a finale, helped myself to a crisp-bread with honey. Well, well, I thought. What kind of security is she after? Back at the table I said, ‘He’ll find you something. That should be the last of your worries.’
‘I’ll think it over again on a walk along the lake. Shall we meet for lunch?’
I knew how things would unfold. She’d accept the job, call Tyberg at four, and discuss details with him into the evening. I decided to look for my holiday home, left Judith a message wishing her luck in her negotiations with Tyberg, and drove off along the lake to Brissago, where I was transported by boat to Isola Bella and ate lunch. Afterwards I turned towards the mountains and drove in a wide sweep that took me down by Ascona to the lake
