“Maximilian, you are nothing but a lying opportunist, a slimy snake without a shred of decency. I know you had a hand in all of this. The ORPO acted on your orders. Tell me, why was it necessary to take Esther into custody in the middle of the night? If they wanted to keep her at Lipowa, they could have held her at the end of her shift. Why break into my house?”
Maximilian shrugged. “I don’t know what their thinking was. Who can reason with the Nazis?”
“Could it be that I was on my way to see her and you suspected that I would take my family and not come back to Lodz?”
“Would my suspicions be well founded, Eli? Despite your promises to me? In fact, I did anticipate that you would be false to me and not return, but that had nothing to do with the independent actions of the ORPO. How would I have the authority to order the ORPO to do anything at all?”
“You might not, but Globočnik would.”
“Then you might consider confronting Herr Brigadeführer, but that would be foolhardy. Let’s face it, Eli, the Order Police are a wild, unmanageable bunch to whom atrocities come naturally. Esther is immeasurably safer in the barracks of Lipowa than on the streets of Lublin, which will soon be cleared of all Jews. Once again, she is safe because I have protected her.”
“I want to see her. I don’t trust your ability to protect her. I will strike a bargain with you. I will agree to continue running your brickyard, but I want you to bring Esther here to Lodz.”
“Sadly, that’s not possible.”
“She can work in a shop here in Lodz.”
“She is needed at Lipowa, and Commandant Riedel will not release her. We have been over that issue time and again. Besides, you wouldn’t want her working in the Lodz shops. Conditions here are severe. The women here work in munitions factories and do heavy physical labor.” Maximilian took a step toward the door and stopped. “As I said before, we are bound together, you and I. You will continue to run the brickyard, and Esther will remain safe under my protection.”
“I want my father washed, dressed and buried in the Jewish cemetery.”
“I will see to it.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
LUBLIN, POLAND
FEBRUARY 1943
Ten months later, in the midst of a February thaw, Maximilian burst into the office and made a beeline for the file cabinets. Sweat dripped from his brow and his shirt was soaked at the armpits. Gone was the usual cavalier composure. This day, he was frenzied. His breathing was rapid and labored.
“I want a moment alone with Eli Rosen,” he brusquely barked to the office personnel, wildly waving them out. When they had left, he closed and locked the door. “Where are the books and records?” he snapped.
Eli shrugged. “If you came around more than once a week, you’d know, Mr. Brickyard Owner.”
“Don’t fuck with me!” he screamed. “This is serious. Globočnik has demanded a meeting with you and me tomorrow morning. He wants to review the books with us.”
“So? Why is that a concern?”
His voice was shaky. “Where are they, Eli? I need to see them.”
A smile slowly crept across Eli’s face. “Why, Maximilian, I do believe you are worried. Material purchases and bank disbursements—are they going to balance? When the eminent brigadeführer reviews the books, will he see discrepancies? Have you been dipping?”
“Shut up. Where are the books and bank records? They’re not in the cabinet.”
“No, they’re not. They were picked up early this morning.”
Maximilian sat down hard. “Son of a bitch, we’re in trouble.”
“We?”
“You’re responsible for running this brickyard. It’s your business.”
“That’s not what the sign says. Everyone knows it’s M. Poleski Building and Construction Materials. Are you intending to shift the blame to me, a poor worker under your supervision? Not that I’m surprised, but I just don’t think your argument will carry the day. I have no control over the bank account and no authority to withdraw any money. Never have. All payments for materials require your signature. Yours alone. I’ve never taken a pfennig.”
“You have to help me. I’ve protected your family for years. You owe me.”
“You are a pig. Tell that to my father, my brother, my sister-in-law. Remind me how you protected them. Besides, what do you think I can do for you? Can I erase your defalcations? Can I magically change the bank records?”
“You can tell Globočnik that on many occasions we had to buy materials with cash.”
“He’ll never believe that.”
“Listen to me. Don’t forsake me. Cover for me, and I will get Esther out of Lipowa. I’ll arrange for a material pickup in Sweden. The two of you will go to Sweden. You have my solemn word. You have to help me. I’m in trouble. Globočnik will have my skin.”
“I want to leave immediately.”
“Tomorrow, I swear it.”
* * *
Brigadeführer Odilo Globočnik sat behind a polished desk in full uniform. Nazi flags were posted on either side. On the wall behind his desk was a large black-and-white photograph of the führer in his peaked cap, arm stiff in a Hitler salute. Maximilian and Eli were led into the room by an adjutant who stood at attention on Globočnik’s right. Eli noticed that the brickyard’s accounting books were sitting on the brigadeführer’s desk.
Before Globočnik could say a word, Maximilian blurted, “Your excellency, I can explain everything.”
The brigadeführer opened his palm and politely gestured for Eli and Maximilian to be seated. “What would you like to explain to me, Maximilian of royal blood? I haven’t asked you a single question.”
“I mean to say that whatever concerns you may have,” he answered nervously, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“Well, let’s begin with your reasonable explanation on why there are thirteen thousand marks missing from the brickyard bank account.”
Maximilian glanced at Eli, then turned to Globočnik and said, “It’s not missing. There are always material deliveries, especially those from small individual vendors, for which we must pay cash. On the spot. They will not invoice us. I must quickly run to the bank for a withdrawal or the man might decide to take his wares to another construction site. These individuals have no sense of loyalty.”
“Is that true, Mr. Rosen?”
Eli swallowed. “I’m sure there are occasions when materials are purchased for cash.”
“How many such occasions, Mr. Rosen?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can you tell me, Mr. Rosen, why these cash withdrawals for materials were not noted in the books?”
“No, sir, I can’t.”
“Aren’t you the one responsible for making entries of material purchases in the books?”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“So if Maximilian of royal blood were to rush to the bank in order to withdraw cash to make a purchase before this disloyal delivery truck driver pulled away, wouldn’t it be your practice to note the amount paid to that driver and the materials delivered?”