Trust no one.
Chapter Sixteen
Humboldt University
Berlin, Germany
At first, Professor Brandt was standoffish and not at all receptive to the unexpected visitors. However, Cam turned on the charm and convinced him that their intentions were good. She played on his personal history as being a descendent of a famous Nazi war criminal. She agreed with him that he shouldn’t have been held to account for the sins of his family. She claimed, falsely, that her family had been raised in Germany, and she used just enough facts about them not to set off his radar.
Likewise, Gunner used his mother’s actual story, complete with his recollection of where she lived and the neighborhoods she’d mentioned to him as a child, in order to lend authenticity to their sudden appearance in his classroom.
Professor Brandt, who was in his mid-sixties, eventually warmed to the conversation and opened up about his own family. He spoke English fluently and seemed to enjoy the conversation, as he got to practice his second language.
“My grandfather, as you know, was a Nazi. I can’t make excuses for what he did, but I can say that as a German male, you were expected to serve the Reich. There were many within the Reich who didn’t agree with what was going on. Clearly, my grandfather was not one of them. For some, there was no choice as to the role they played. For my grandfather, it appeared he had a choice and followed in the footsteps of his mentor, Himmler.”
“Could he have refused?” asked Bear.
“I suppose, but based upon his status within the upper echelon of the Nazi Party, he would’ve been shot as a traitor or suffered a deadly accident. In any event, his crimes were too great to get the kind of forgiveness many of the scientists within the Reich received from the Americans. My grandfather offered no scientific skills, as he was a lawyer and an administrator.”
Gunner turned the conversation toward the Nazis’ stolen treasures and money. “I’m curious, Professor. In America, we’ve always heard stories of beautiful works of art and antiquities that were seized during the war by German forces. Were they destroyed or what? It seems they would’ve surfaced by now.”
Professor Brandt took a deep breath as he considered his response. Gunner immediately picked up on the delay. “This is where I must disagree with my esteemed contemporary from the United States, Professor Bale. I have seen her interviews on the news networks like CNN International. The fact is most were destroyed in the course of battle. When planes on both sides dropped bombs on the cities of Europe, they fell indiscriminately. There were no guided weapons in those days. Only crossed fingers that the proper target was struck.”
“Are you saying reports of stolen monies and artwork were based on legend?” asked Cam.
“No, that did happen. Just not to the extent that historians in America believe. The Swiss were depositories for some of the accounts, but over time, they were pressured to release the information to European authorities.”
His responses to their questions were not what Gunner expected, and he wondered if Professor Bale would be surprised as well. It was as if the longer they spoke with Brandt, the more comfortable he became, and the responses became more generalized and contrived. Yet he could’ve cut off the conversation at any time since an appointment wasn’t made.
“What about this notion there were ratlines out of Germany, allowing the Nazi Party’s high command an opportunity to escape?”
Professor Brandt let out a hearty laugh. “Ah yes, another notion created by American purveyors of fiction. I remember the book and movie from the early seventies. I was only a child then, but I recall watching it with my mother. At first, she laughed at the inaccuracies in the movie. She said Hogan’s Heroes was more accurate.”
Gunner furrowed his brow. Brandt’s response was too animated. “So the ratlines didn’t exist?”
“Not to the extent some would have you believe. Clearly, many German soldiers attempted to escape as the war came to an end and soon thereafter. As the Nuremberg trials were announced in late ’46, many former Nazi party members became concerned they’d be associated with Hitler, Himmler, Bormann, and Göring, so they fled the country. It wasn’t that difficult, really, assuming one had the means.”
Gunner enjoyed the match of wits with the professor. “Where did they go?”
“Ah, not so far as one might expect. Austria. Switzerland, of course. Some went to Spain.”
Gunner noticed he’d left out two prominent destinations—Italy and South America.
“How about the Middle East or Northern Africa?” asked Gunner, intentionally leaving out the destination that intrigued him the most—South America.
“No, not so much. There was a language and cultural barrier between the German people and the inhabitants of those regions. The climate was an issue as well. It’s far too hot near the equator to suit us Germans.” He let out a laugh.
Gunner pretended to laugh along with the professor. He stood as if he was ready to leave, avoiding the gaze of both Cam and Bear, who thought the interview should continue. Professor Brandt rose to shake hands with Gunner, and reluctantly, Cam and Bear joined in.
As they said their goodbyes, Gunner appeared deep in thought and then addressed the professor one last time. “Say, I’ve heard about this old man who lives in the northern part of the country somewhere. Former political scientist. Professor von Zwick, I think. Do you know of him?”
Professor Brandt’s ordinarily flushed cheeks turned ashen in color. He gulped and stammered as he denied knowing the man. Gunner pressed him.
“Oh, well. I thought you might since he’s a retired history professor from Bard College here in the city.”
“That is a very small institution, and I know nothing of this gentleman. Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Yes, I’m sorry, Professor. Also, the village of Jamel. Do
