Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [55]
The Frenchman fenced brilliantly in her apartment without giving direct promises. The lure of sharing the bed made Duquesne intimate to her that she might have access to special information.
And so, they had an affair. The entire thing was annoying to Duquesne. He felt as though he had been raped. Corney was a very bad lover, aggressive and with about as much finesse as a bulldozer. It was sad for Maurice, for he had felt certain that a woman who depended on those particular talents as much as she would have done a better job developing them.
By morning their affair was done and through. She did not seem to mind much, she had been rebuffed before. What made her furious was that Duquesne left without a concession.
Later she drove to Schwabenwald and began to nose around the cottages of the SS officers now under Polish guard. This did not pose much of a problem. The nice lady bribed them with cigarettes with ridiculous ease and was soon inside the cottage of Klaus and Emma Stoll poking through everything—closets, drawers, desks, under beds.
In the dining room she was attracted to a rough-hewn old Bavarian china closet containing Emma Stoll’s Rosenthal set and a set of silverware with intricately carved bone handles. She had found her key!
Later she went to the cathedral to interview former Schwabenwald inmates. She primed them to speak of the thousands of rumors one hears in such a place. Cornelia Hollingshead got some facts, some half truths told by sick, impassioned, hate-filled people, added rumors, and concocted a story that was the topper to the whole sordid concentration-camp chapter. Cornelia Hollingshead indeed, was not outdone by anyone! She wrote:
Frau Emma Stoll gave special orders to the SS guards in the extermination center to be on the lookout for particular types of Slavic and Jewish skulls.
It has been substantiated by irrefutable sources that Emma Stoll personally went to the bone-crushing machines to inspect new batches of skulls daily. She hand-picked the most suitable samples.
These skulls were used to carve the handles on her silverware ...
Before Cornelia Hollingshead’s story could be confirmed, denied, or investigated it was accepted by a world now ready to believe anything coming out of Germany’s horror camps.
Dull, stupid Emma Stoll had gained eternal infamy as the queen of ghouls. Emma Stoll’s name would become symbolic of the universal monster. Indeed! Human skulls for silverware handles! Belatedly, the world cried for her head to roll!
The big American was passed by the guards to the south-bank mansion occupied by the commander of Pilot Team G-5. He used the front door knocker. Alfred Oberdorfer opened it in behalf of his new master.
“Sir?” inquired the servant
“Spraechen sie English?”
“Nein, bitte.”
The big American grunted and continued the conversation in a sort of German. “Tell Major O’Sullivan that Nelson Goodfellow Bradbury has arrived from places beyond the horizon with a duffel bag filled with scotch, dirty laundry, and cigarettes for the black market.”
Good butler Oberdorfer was puzzled. “A moment, please,” he said, bowed, and then walked to Sean’s study and knocked. “There is an American outside, sir, speaking of dirty laundry and whiskey. His name is Goodfellow.”
“Big Nellie!”
Alfred Oberdorfer watched the two men embrace and pound each other’s backs. “You ugly son of a bitch!”
Alfred was disgusted. The Americans were strange people. In the old days such displays never took place in these halls. Things were proper when Herr Schoof was the master. God be hopeful Herr Schoof will return someday.
“Some layout you’ve got here lad.”
“Joint belonged to the publisher of the newspaper. One of Von Romstein’s relatives. Heidi!”
Alfred’s wife answered the call in a trot, tying on her maid’s apron as she ran. She bowed.
“Get these bags up to one of the guest rooms. See to it Herr Bradbury’s clothes are all in order by tomorrow ... and make us some dinner.”
The husband and wife reacted to