Angel from hell, p.2
Angel From Hell, page 2
part #1 of Anna Fehrbach Series Series
His men exchanged glances and waggled their eyebrows.
‘Now, Fraulein . . . what is your name?’
‘I am Annaliese Fehrbach,’ Annaliese said, her voice still low. ‘And I will never submit to you.’
The inspector smiled. ‘I am sure we will be able to come to some arrangement. Now go with these men. Behave yourself, and you will not be harmed.’
Slowly Annaliese stood up. One of the policemen had the handcuffs waiting. ‘Am I allowed to put on my coat?’
Neither her parents nor Katerina had been granted that privilege. But to her surprise the inspector nodded. ‘We do not wish you to catch a cold.’
She pulled on her coat and then put her arms behind her back. ‘What will happen to my family?’
‘I have said I am sure we will be able to come to some arrangement.’
*
‘Ah, Gunther,’ Colonel Glauber said. ‘Come in. Sit down. I think yesterday went off very well. Do you know, I really felt there might be some trouble. But the people seemed quite happy. I can tell you that the Fuehrer is very pleased.’
Gunther Hallbrunn cautiously lowered himself into the seat before the desk. Glauber was a large, friendly-looking man, who could beam, as he was now doing. But he could also explode into a violent rage when things did not go exactly the way he thought they should. ‘So, tell me,’ he now said. ‘You had no trouble?’
‘No, Herr Colonel, there was no trouble. The usual protests, expressions of outrage, hysterics from the women . . . we are used to that.’
‘And now they are all safely behind bars. But my secretary told me you requested this interview on an urgent matter.’
‘Not urgent, Herr Colonel. But I thought it might be of interest to you.’
‘Indeed?’
‘I have a present for you.’
Glauber raised his eyebrows. ‘I hope you have not been looting.’
‘No, no. This is one of our prisoners. I put her in the interview cell,’ Hallbrunn explained. ‘Would you care to look at her?’
Glauber regarded him for several seconds. ‘Why should I wish to do that, Captain?’
‘Because, as I say, I think she will be of interest to you.’
Another moment’s consideration, then Glauber stood up. Hallbrunn hurried in front of him to open the door, and they passed the eyebrow-raising secretary into the outer hall of the central police station that had been appropriated as Gestapo Headquarters, and went down the stairs and along the corridor to the cell block. The cells were crowded with people, men and women, and even some children, all part of the preventive arrest of known subversives carried out by the police. Some of the inmates asked or shouted questions, but most recognized Glauber’s rank and prudently kept quiet. Beyond the cells was the interview room. Here a guard stood to attention.
‘Would you care to look, Herr Colonel?’
Glauber glanced at him, then slid the inspection hatch aside and looked into the room.
‘Is she not magnificent?’ Hallbrunn asked.
Glauber closed the hatch. ‘She is a handsome girl, and it is good of you to think of me, Hallbrunn, but I have a beautiful and demanding wife in Berlin, and an even more beautiful and much more demanding mistress in Hamburg. I am actually enjoying this interlude in Vienna as a period of rest and recuperation from the requirements of the flesh. As for a young girl . . . she would laugh at me.’
‘I am sure she would not, Herr Colonel. But it is not just a matter of her looks, although they are exceptional. I have had her examined by Molder, who tells me that her body is as flawless as her face. But I have also made inquiries about her. She is intellectually brilliant; according to her Mother Superior she has an IQ of a hundred and seventy-three.’ Glauber looked sceptical.
‘She is the head girl of the convent,’ Hallbrunn went on, ‘and she is the best athlete in the school as well; she is the captain of hockey, netball and athletics. She is also a strong swimmer. She has an Anglo-Irish mother, and speaks English like a native. She is also fluent in French.’
‘You will be telling me next that this paragon is a mathematical genius.’
‘I do not know about that, sir. But you told me to keep my eyes open for anyone unusual, anyone who might be of use to the Reich. Surely the SS can find a use for someone with a combination of such looks and such intellectual capacity.’
Glauber turned back to the hatch, slid it open again. ‘You expect her to work for us, when you have just arrested her entire family?’
‘She understands the situation, Herr Colonel. I have told her that if she co-operates with us, her parents will neither be shot nor sent to a concentration camp. If she does not . . . well . . .’
‘And what does she suppose you meant by “co-operation”?’
‘I imagine she assumes that she is to be some Party official’s mistress.’
‘And she is prepared to accept this?’
‘As I said, sir, she is very intelligent. She is prepared to do anything to protect her family.’
‘Has she been raped?’
‘Good heavens, no, sir. I would not permit that, at least until you had seen her.’
‘Not even by you?’
‘Certainly not, sir.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Glauber agreed. ‘I had forgotten. Therefore, in your opinion, she is a virgin.’
‘Molder says she is. Anyway, she comes from an eminently respectable family, and attended a convent.’
‘You make her sound too good to be true, Hallbrunn. Very good. You may leave the girl. I will find something worthwhile to do with her.’
‘Yes, sir. Ah . . .’
‘I said, you may leave the girl,’ Glauber repeated.
‘Of course. Heil Hitler!’
*
Annaliese heard the clicking of the hatch being moved to and fro, but she refused to turn her head to try and discover who was looking at her, nor could she hear anything that was being said beyond the glass.
She was desperately trying to compose herself for whatever might soon happen to her, formulate at least a mental plan to deal with it. But this was next to impossible when the past twenty-four hours had been so confusing, so filled with the unexpected. The way the policeman had attempted to manhandle her had been a total shock; nothing like that had ever happened to her before. Her reaction had been instinctive, but she had not intended to scratch his cheek wide open, and when she had looked into his eyes she had realized, with a curious sense of detachment accompanied by a lightness in her stomach, that she was about to be hurt, very badly.
But it hadn’t happened; the inspector, who was apparently a captain in the mysterious and terrifying SS, had intervened, and while she had been handcuffed, no violence had been offered to her. No one had even attempted to touch her intimately. But she had known it could only be a matter of time, very little time, before . . . Sex was of course a recurring subject at school, the topic of recurring speculation, but for all the claims of some of the girls, none of them had known a great deal about it. She had known less than most, because the subject had never been discussed by her mother and father, at least in front of her. Even when she had begun to menstruate, Mother had merely produced the requisite towels and said, ‘Well, now you are a woman,’ and left it at that. It was impossible to suppose, looking at her, watching her move – quite apart from the fact that she had borne two children – that Mother was not, even now, a sexual woman, but her sexuality was confined to her bedroom; out of it only politics mattered. As a result, Annaliese had never been very interested in the subject, and in view of her responsibilities at school she had regarded it as her duty to quash too much discussion, certainly when it became too earthy. Of course she had her romantic dreams. None of the nuns had any doubt that she was certain to make university, and there she would meet some handsome young man, preferably wealthy – Mother and Father had never seemed to have quite sufficient money – who would fall in love with her. They would then marry, have children, and live happily ever after in the approved manner.
That enticing prospect had now disappeared. Thanks to whatever crime Mother and Father had committed, she was now also being treated as a criminal. And she was surrounded by men who, even if they had not yet touched her, looked at her like hungry wolves, while she was utterly at the mercy of this hard-faced SS officer, who also stared at her constantly. When would it happen? And what would she do when it started? If only she had some idea of what ‘it’ would be like. It was the majority opinion at school, encouraged by the nuns, that physical sex was a painful and unpleasant business, even when inflicted by someone one liked or might even love. To have such a thing inflicted by a man – or men – one did not even know and was well on the way to hating was unthinkable. Yet it was obviously going to happen, no doubt as soon as this car got wherever it was going.
She had had an urgent desire to scream, and had begun drawing deep breaths, when to her consternation the captain had placed his hand on her arm and given it a gentle squeeze. ‘I have told you, there is nothing for you to be afraid of, as long as you do what you are told.’
She had licked her lips. ‘What do you want of me?’
‘I wish you to be loyal to the Reich. Just remember that.’
Loyal to the Reich, she thought. When the Reich has just locked up my mother and father, and my sister? But now her attention was caught by her surroundings, as the car turned into the courtyard of what she recalled had been the central police station, but which now flew, instead of the red and white of Austria, the swastika flag of Nazi Germany, while the yard itself was filled with black-uniformed men. The car stopped and someone opened the door for her. She glanced at the captain, who gave a quick nod. She got out, and he followed her, escorting her across the yard to one of the many doorways. Again she was aware of hunger in the eyes about her, but still she felt protected by the presence of the captain.
Once she was inside the building, however, everything had changed. She had been delivered into the hands of a uniformed woman, to whom the captain had given instructions in a low voice that Annaliese had been unable to overhear. The woman had stood to attention and said, ‘Heil Hitler!’ and the captain had turned to Annaliese.
‘You will go with Frau Molder. Obey her in all things.’
Annaliese had looked at Frau Molder, who had looked at her, and suddenly the captain had seemed almost a friend. The woman was not very old, certainly a good many years younger than Mother, and was quite good-looking, with dark hair and sharp features. She did not look vicious, but her eyes were hard. She was chunkily built and several inches shorter than Annaliese, a situation she obviously did not appreciate. ‘Come,’ she said.
Annaliese followed her along a corridor, past more hungry eyes, and then down a flight of stairs into a cell block. Most of the cells were occupied, and most, as before, by at least four people – men and women and even children. Annaliese did not like the look of any of them; the thought of being shut away with such companions made her skin crawl. She prayed for a sight of Mother and Father, or even Katerina, but they were not to be seen. Then her gaoler opened a door and gestured her to go in. Annaliese drew a deep breath; unlike the cells further down the corridor, this room was not barred but had a solid wall, save for an inspection hatch in the door, and so whatever happened in here could not readily be overlooked by any of the other prisoners or by any guard in the corridor. But it was empty. Slowly she released her breath, and then realized that once the door closed this woman could do anything she liked to her, without fear of comment, much less interruption.
‘Good, eh?’ Frau Molder asked. ‘You are privileged.’ She produced a key and unlocked the handcuffs, hanging them from her belt.
Annaliese rubbed her wrists as she looked around herself. The cell could almost have been described as comfortable, if you had never known anything better. In addition to the cot bed there was a table and a chair, and a slop bucket with a lid. But the only light was a naked bulb suspended from the ceiling, and the room smelled of disinfectant. Still, it was better than she had expected, and it could do no harm to be friendly. ‘I hope it is not the condemned cell,’ she ventured.
Frau Molder gave a cold smile. ‘All cells are condemned cells, when you are condemned,’ she said.
Annaliese gulped and sat down on the bed. Frau Molder snapped her fingers. ‘Up.’ Annaliese stood again, somewhat uncertainly. ‘Strip.’
‘Do what?’
‘Undress. Take off your clothes.’
Annaliese bridled, despite her determination to maintain her composure no matter what happened. ‘You have no right to make me do that.’
‘Fraulein, I have the right to do anything to you that I choose. Captain Hallbrunn has said that he does not want you marked, anywhere visible, and particularly on your face. But this . . .’ From her belt she took a short, thick, rubber truncheon. ‘Can cause extreme pain, and the only mark will be a rush of blood to the injured part, and that will fade again in an hour. The pain remains longer. Now stop being a silly little girl. I am not going to harm you, but I am required to examine you.’
Annaliese drew another deep breath. She had not undressed in front of anyone since the age of ten, and that had been her mother. Even after sports at school she had preferred to go home rather than share the shower with the other girls. But she did not wish to be beaten. ‘I will tell the captain of this,’ she said, as she took off her coat and draped it over the chair.
‘You are welcome,’ Frau Molder agreed. ‘Continue.’
*
To Annaliese’s surprised relief, the ordeal had been entirely asexual, even if it had been the most embarrassing of her life. Frau Molder had made her bend over and parted her buttocks to look between, but she had done nothing more than that. Then she had had to lie on her back with her knees drawn up while the woman had again peered at her genitals. She had also looked into her mouth with great care, seeming to examine each tooth. Actually the worst moment had been when Molder had plucked the small gold crucifix suspended on a chain round Annaliese’s neck, given her by her mother on her sixteenth birthday, from between her breasts. Molder had touched her flesh while turning the crucifix over, before allowing it to fall back into place.
‘Do you believe in this?’ she had asked.
‘Don’t you?’ Annaliese had responded.
Molder had gazed at her for some seconds, and then she said, ‘You are a very handsome young woman.’
She had been allowed to dress again, to use a communal bathroom, with Frau Molder at her elbow, and given a good meal. She began to feel almost friendly to her captor. ‘Do you treat all your prisoners like this?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Then why am I being treated like this?’
‘Captain Hallbrunn did not tell me.’
‘Is he going to rape me?’
Molder had given another of her cold smiles. ‘I think that is very unlikely. Had you been a pretty little boy, now . . .’
Annaliese had no idea what she was talking about.
*
That had been nearly twenty-four hours ago. There had been three more very edible meals, three more escorted visits to the toilets, each time by different female guards, and the rest of the time she had spent lying on her cot or sitting at her table. She had been given nothing to read, and she knew nothing of what might be happening outside this prison, or in it, for that matter. During her brief excursions, which had involved passing the open cells, she had been subjected to whistles and shouted comments, but none of those were the least informative; her various guards never spoke at all.
She felt she should pray, especially as today was Sunday, and fingered her crucifix. But the cell did not lend itself to thoughts of God, and she had an uneasy feeling that God had abandoned her, at least for the time being. She had to take Hallbrunn’s word that her parents and Katerina were not being ill treated – although she could not believe they were being treated as well as her, and she had continually to brace herself, whenever her door was opened, for some fresh ordeal. She had asked if she could not be returned home, under guard, to pick up a change of clothing and had been rewarded with a brief ‘Nein.’
So all she could do was sit, and try not to think, but how could she, with her intensely active brain, not think? What would be happening at school tomorrow morning? What would they be saying? All Vienna would know by now that Johann Fehrbach and his family had been arrested. The girls would be imagining all sorts of horrible, titillating things happening to her . . . and she still did not know that they might not yet be proved right.
And now the hatch had been opened and then closed again, several times. There were people out there, looking at her, deciding what to do with her. She simply could not imagine what they might have in mind if they were not going to rape or sexually assault her, but had separated her from her family for some reason . . . An hour had passed since the hatch had last been opened. She did not have a watch, but her growling stomach suggested it was close to a meal time, which would also include another visit to the toilets – she had gathered that the bucket was only to be used in case of emergency, and she was young enough and fit enough not to have one of those.
And now the door was opening. She stood up, and found herself looking not at any of the women who were her usual escorts, but at Molder, who she had not seen since the previous day. ‘Good morning, Fehrbach,’ Molder said. ‘How are you today?’
Alarm bells started to ring in Annaliese’s brain, but she kept her voice even. ‘As well as can be expected, Frau.’
‘Good. You will be pleased to leave this place. Come along.’
‘Do I bring my coat?’
‘Yes. You will not be coming back.’
Annaliese put on the coat and looked around her, but she had no belongings to take. She stepped into the corridor. ‘Am I allowed to ask where I am going?’
‘You are always asking questions,’ Molder said. ‘It is a bad habit.’ She gestured at the stairs and Annaliese went up them, as before aware of the stares around her. ‘Through that door,’ Molder said. Annaliese opened the door and found herself in a spacious office, a place of filing cabinets and typewriters and three desks, although there was only one person waiting for her. This was another woman, who also wore uniform – a blue tunic and skirt with a matching side cap. She was tall, stood elegantly, and had a coldly handsome, aquiline face; her yellow hair was gathered in a tight bun. ‘Fraulein Fehrbach,’ Molder explained to the other woman.
