Chapters (50)
- Praise
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Teaser chapter
“I told them she’d been a guard at Ravensbrück,” he said. “That was a training base for female SS supervisors. Did you know that? The British hanged quite a few of the women from Ravensbrück—Irma Grese was just twenty-one years old—but some of them got away. I told the Nakam that Vera Messmann used to set her wolfhounds on Jews to tear them to pieces. Stuff like that. Mostly the information I give them is good. But now and then I slip someone onto the list who’s not a real Nazi. Someone like Vera Messmann. And now you, Gunther. They’ll be really pleased to get you. They’ve been after Eric Gruen for a long time. Which is why they’ll have all the relevant documents proving you’re Gruen. Just in case you thought you could argue your way out if it. An Allied public trial in Germany would have been more clear-cut. But really it’s not the German government who are making great efforts to track down war criminals. It’s not even the Allies. We’ve got other fish to fry. Like the Reds. No, the only people who are really keen to track down and execute wanted war criminals these days are the Israelis. And once they figure they’ve killed Eric Gruen, we’ll close the file on him. And so will the Russians. And the real Eric Gruen will be in the clear. That’s where you come in, Gunther. You’re going to take the fall for him.” I reached the bottom of the stairs. “Open the door in front of you and go inside.”
I stopped.
“Or, if you prefer, I can shoot you in the calf, and we’ll just have to hope that you don’t bleed to death in the three or four hours it takes for them to get here from Linz. Your choice.”
I opened the cellar door and walked inside. Before the war I might have tackled him. But I was quicker then. Quicker and younger.
“Now sit down and put your hands on your head.”
Once again I obeyed. I heard the door close behind me and, for a moment, I was plunged into darkness. A key turned in the lock, and then the light was switched on from the outside.
“Here is something to think about,” Jacobs said through the door. “By the time they get here, we’ll be well on our way to the airport. At midnight tonight, Gruen, Henkell, and their two lady friends will be on their way to a new life in America. And you’ll be lying facedown in a shallow grave somewhere.”
I said nothing. There seemed nothing left to say. To him at least. I hoped the Israelis coming from Linz could speak good German.
FORTY
FORTY