Chapter Five
The more I thought about it, the more the idea appealed to me. It brought back the challenge of my relationship with Meg. I suppose that I had nothing better to do with Basil in a concentration camp and no nemesis to plot against.
Crime had lost its former glory. The war was making it more difficult to tell the difference between normal citizens and criminals. Bribes and crimes were running rampant, not resisted but encouraged by the police. Wealth had never been a major goal in my own criminal pursuits. What point was there for me to do what everyone else was already doing?
I had the feeling at the back of my mind that what I was about to embark upon was extremely childish. I suppose it was. But I had never been one to care about what others thought of me.
I knew that the only way I could ever observe Meg in private would be at night, when she was not taking orders from me. It would have to be in her bedroom.
Meg slept in the basement with the two Jewish girls, Genia and Danka. I had hardly cared at first where she was put, but now I realized how hard it would be to ever see her in private; there was hardly enough room in there for one person, let alone three young girls. She was Aryan and they were Jewish; it would be perfectly normal to any outsiders if she was placed somewhere else.
"But where to put her?" I said to myself, pacing my room as I dressed to go out for the evening. It would be very bad form to have her placed in the bedrooms upstairs. If she were placed in the kitchen, I would have no means of watching her in private.
I stood in front of the mirror, hand poised, ready to tie my cravat. 'The attic,' I thought. 'Perfect.'
The attic had two entrances. Behind a door on the second floor a narrow staircase led to the attic. The second entrance was through a trapdoor in the ceiling of my closet.
The attic was big enough to have it separated into three sections. I decided that one section would be for the old furniture and items that I had not bothered to get rid of. This would be the largest section. The second section was to be Meg's bedroom. It was big enough for a bed and a small table.
The third section was only accessible through my room. I had a ladder brought up from the garage and placed in the back of my closet. All I had to do was set up the ladder and climb it to the trapdoor. The room was small; it just barely give moving room for my large frame, standing room only. Carpet was been laid down to muffle any sound I might make. But the beauty of the whole project was the mirror. I had a mirror made especially for the purpose of looking in on Meg. It separated the two rooms, hers and mine. While she could not see anything but her own reflection in it, I could see everything that she was doing. It was my window into her personal life.
It took the carpenters only a few days to put in the walls and install the mirror. They did not ask questions.
I grinned to myself in the mirror that Meg would soon be looking into. She would never know.
I went downstairs to the dining room, where dinner had been laid out for some guests I was having over that evening. I was in a very jovial mood.
The dinner was not very interesting. The SS men I invited talked about politics and the war, always the war. Their girlfriends were dressed smartly and attractively, but there was not a spark of sincerity or intelligence among any of them. They nodded in agreement with everything their boyfriends said. But I drank and laughed with them anyway. It is always good to have many acquaintances who think they are your friend to fall back upon.
Meg and Genia served the guests. Genia openly despised the girls, knowing why they were there. I watched her accidentally spill some wine on Emilie, Lasner's girlfriend. The girl did not even think that Genia had done it; she thought Lasner was responsible. I could hardly keep myself from laughing at her stupidity.
Around two o'clock the SS men finally left with their girlfriends. I went upstairs as the two girls cleaned up the parlor. After about an hour I went back downstairs again, to find that the girls had retreated to the basement.
At the top of the basement stairs I heard them murmuring in low, secretive voices. The talking stopped abruptly as I clattered down the stairs. They all jumped up and bowed their heads down,; this was their normal way of standing to attention without having to look at me.
I sighed, and paced the room, which was hard to do in more than two strides. So I gave that up and folded my arms, facing the girls. "Meg, get your things. You will no longer be sharing the same quarters with Genia and Danka."
Meg's head shot up. "What?" she said in disbelief.
I tried my hardest to hide a smile. She was acting more normal. It made me feel more powerful.
"It is unhealthy for an Aryan to be spending so much time with them," I said, motioning to the Jewish girls, "especially if you want to be sent back into society anytime soon."
Meg balled her fists. "Them?" she spat out, enunciating the word as I had. "They are better people than you will ever be!"
"Meg..." Danka whispered.
"I don't care!" she hissed, glaring at me.
I grabbed her by her nightshirt. "Come with me, Fraulein," I threatened, "before you force me to give your 'friends' much grief for your insubordinate behavior."
Meg's face fell in defeat. She nodded. I let go of her. She retrieved her few articles of clothing and followed me up the stairs. I led her to the attic, to her small room. She looked about it in dismay. I, meanwhile, was bursting with excitement.
"This is where you'll be spending the next couple of years, Fraulein," I said in a self-satisfied tone. "You better learn to like it, or else it will be a very long couple of years."
I turned to go when I heard her say in a low voice full of contempt, "I hate you."
I turned back to her, grinning wickedly. It was as if someone had managed to put power into a syringe and inject it in me. "I know you do, my dear."
"I am no 'dear' of yours," she snapped.
I reached out and gripped her face with my hands, Forcing her to face me, I bent down close to her, still leering at her. "Watch yourself, Fraulein. You are going to need my mercy someday."
She did not response. I turned to go, but as I was closing the door she said, "You're wrong. You are going to need their mercy."
My blood froze at her tone of voice, her ironic certainty. I quickly slammed the door and locked it, then took a deep breath. I was a little shaky, and felt weak at the knees. I leaned against the wall, trying to gather the strength to continue down the stairs without falling over. In another minute I began to feel a little better. I went down the stairs to my own bedroom, and then lay down on the bed, not bothering to take off my clothes.
"What a fool you are!" I reprimanded myself, forcing myself to let out a chuckle. It sounded fake and strange. "Remember, you have power!"
'Power?' a little voice inside my head said mockingly. 'What power? She terrified you!'
"Oh, this is ridiculous!" I growled. I made toward my closet to spy on her in the mirror when I suddenly arrested my steps. Instead I poured myself some vodka and downed it, letting its warmth spread over me.
"I will get you yet, you little wretch," I vowed.
