“What are you staring at,” Frau Koenig snapped. She stood in the corridor, pressing on her sides. “Is that bath ready?”
“Yes. I was coming to get you.”
“And having an argument with the flowers on the way?” She approached, and Magda stepped aside. Frau Koenig glanced at the photo, then at Magda. “Go set the dining table. And tell Jana to bring my dinner upstairs tonight.”
“Won’t you be eating with the rest of the guests?”
Frau Koenig grimaced. “You truly are daft. Nobody wants to see a woman in my condition.”
The woman ascended with slow, heavy steps and disappeared into the master bedroom.
When the Taubers’ cuckoo announced seven o’clock, Magda was just starting on the silverware, the set that Frau Koenig had brought with her from Austria. She looked up, her chest pricking painfully. Obersturmbannführer Koenig would be home soon.
“He has to see you,” Renata had instructed from the beginning. “Koenig must be used to seeing you so that he will have little reason to find your presence suspicious. You have that household to run. Use that as your excuse for being underfoot should he complain.”
The trouble was Magda's first instinct was always—always—to flee.
7
June 1942
When Koenig arrived at the villa, Magda was laying out the last of the silverware. Her heart picked up speed, then jumped when she heard two men’s voices. It was just after seven. Frau Koenig would not be pleased if the dinner guests were coming too early, but the footfalls did not near the drawing room or the dining room. Instead, they went straight to Dr. Tauber’s office. Koenig might occupy it, but it was still Dr. Tauber’s office. She flipped one of the knives so that its blade faced the plate, then stepped into the foyer to enquire whether she should bring refreshments.
She was too late. They were both inside. But the office door was cracked open. Magda positioned herself to the right but not before catching a glimpse of Koenig standing over the desk, opening a file. On the other side of the table, she saw a pair of uniformed legs and black boots. The visitor sat in the chair she had been in that last day, that day Koenig had first appeared on the property.
She heard the shuffle of papers and Dr. Tauber’s leather chair giving way to its new occupant.
“You were right to come to me, Major,” Koenig said. “This is very grave indeed.”
“There are—I’m sorry to say—still many sympathizers and traitors to the Reich.” A smooth, Czech-accented reply. Magda recognized the voice as one of Dr. Tauber’s former patients. The man continued, accusation dripping in his tone. “The locals are up in arms. The Christians. They know that Theresienstadt is no longer for just enemies of the Reich but for Jewish—”
“Jews,” Koenig snarled, “are the enemy of the Third Reich. I hope that is absolutely clear. They and the people who are trying to hide them.”
There was a brief silence before the Czech man said, “We executed them on the street. To make that very message clear.”
Whom? Whom did they murder? Magda’s heart hung by a tendril, and she felt nauseated. Her body tensed, prepared to flee. She stared at the vase of roses. Magda stayed.
“That is unfortunate,” Koenig said.
“I’m sorry?” The major’s confusion was evident.
“I want interrogations, Major. Information! Your department is to squelch any organized resistance. And we need names. Do you understand me?”
“I do.” Something scuffed across the rug in the office.
Magda took a step toward the dining room. A bang—a fist against the desk. Her insides leapt, but her feet froze.
“Sit back down, Major. I’m not finished. This convent you found the child in…”
Magda clamped a hand over her mouth, the howl swallowed down.
“We believe he was the only one” was the weak reply.
Koenig’s voice skewered the air, sharp as a blade. “The only…the only one?”
There was silence. Then pacing. Koenig. Magda forced herself to stay put. She had to know Koenig’s next move.
“Where there is one rat, there are many. I want every single house, building, and barn in this county overturned. No exceptions.”
“But we—”
“Every single person questioned. Every man and child is to be stripped. On the sidewalks if you have to. Every man and boy, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Herr Obersturmbannführer!”
“Not one single building or haystack in this entire county is exempt.”
“I understand, Herr Obersturmbannführer.”
“Not even mine, Major! And you treat my orders as if they are directly from the Führer himself!”
Magda fled to the dining room. She had managed to get behind the door just as the men, their voices lower now, emerged from the office.
She heard them speaking, heard each Heil Hitler, and then the front door fell shut. She pushed the swinging door into the service room, racking her brain as to how she could flee the house without being noticed.
“Magdalena!”
She froze. Koenig was in the dining room.
“Magdalena, where are you?”
She stepped out, grasping her shaking hands behind her back. His eyes bored into her, and Magda felt searing heat rising up her neck. She was certain her guilt would bleed right into her birthmark.
Koenig’s eyes rested on the table. “We’ll take our dinner immediately. I’ve canceled the other guests. I’m returning to town as soon as possible. I have business to attend to.”
Hunting down Jews. “Of course.”
He narrowed his eyes, his look scraping along her face. “Then come back to my office. I want to speak to you. I received a call from Frau Koenig about an incident between you two today.”
“Yes, Obersturmbannführer. I understand.”
He scowled and stalked out, taking the stairs two at a time.
Magda fell against the doorframe, stumbled to the table, where she held on before her legs buckled beneath her. When her heart stopped galloping enough for her to stand again, she stared at her image in the mirror on the far wall. Koenig might see the birthmark as reason to treat
