Chapter 39
Dr Josef wakes to Z standing at the rail: and singing to try and summon an octopus.
He turns back into the pillows and refuses to get up.
Z is shrieking and hopping up and down: if there's an octopus climbing the side of this ship he's going to…
He pulls on his clothes and hurries out to her.
Z that is a barnacle.
Ja, he supposes it is a start.
He can't help but laugh, his little lab rat has a new hobby it seems. And he has something to tell her to go and do if she starts irritating him.
He must promise not to experiment on her pet octopus when he arrives.
Dr Josef takes her hand and leads her towards the onboard restaurant, he thought she was mortally afraid of octopuses.
She had a happy dream about a nice one, with big adorable eyes.
Ok.
It's far too early for this, if he gives her some food she will have to be quiet at least for a few minutes.
He sits and watches her stuff herself with bread and jam in every colour of the rainbow.
Such a love of bread is unnatural in children. They normally must be persuaded to eat it…
Of course, amongst the prisoners in the camp, bread was life.
He picks at his own food, and wonders ceaselessly how his poor Mother fares, is she in pain?
It seems an eternity before the boat finally docks, Z flies about catching up their bags, and hares down the gangplank, Dr Josef follows her through the office and shows their false papers, they are waved through.
By nightfall, they are dropped at the outskirts of Günzburg, Z follows Dr Josef up to his family home, and quietly into the house.
He orders Z to sit nicely on the sofa, and play with Pink Bunny, his mother needs him.
The minutes crawl by, and the little gypsy shivers, this house is old, cold and a little frightening.
Herr Doktor's brother appears and asks if she would like something to drink, she thanks him and he brings her a glass of fruit juice.
How is Engel Mutter?
The young man looks at her in confusion, is she trying to ask about their Mother?
Z nods.
Karl sighs, she is not at all well..she has been seen by other Doctors, and now Josef is here, that alone will no doubt do her good.
Can kleine Z help?
He shakes his head, it is best to sit quietly, and out of the way whilst Josef works.
If she is needed, Karl promises he will come and get her at once.
Here, he moves to a bookshelf and hands Z a book to read.
She thanks him and waves goodbye, as he disappears back up the dark stairway.
She is still sitting there the next day, cold and hungry but she dares not complain. Who would she complain to? Everyone is upstairs fussing around Frau Mengele.
By late evening Z has dared to find the kitchen and busies herself making sandwiches, counting out the people in the house over and over again to be sure.
She leaves a small mountain of them on a pretty plate near the bottom of the stairs and curls up on the sofa to sleep.
She is awoken by Josef, having tripped on the untouched plate cursing horribly, she nearly killed him! He almost broke his damn neck!
dummes Mädchen
He told her to sit quietly and play with Pink Bunny, not take over his Mother's house!
Z's lip trembles despite her best efforts, the pretty black eyes glitter with unshed tears.
He sighs, he's sorry, he knows she was only trying to help. But having food taken without permission makes his poor Mother very upset.
Z turns away, clutching her mutilated toy closer.
It wasn't like she took it all for herself, Z only had one…
Dr Josef sighs and sinks onto the sofa, he has done all he can for now.
He half smiles, she might as well bring them here since she's made them.
They eat in awkward silence, Josef's other little brother Lolo appears, nods to Z, and takes the plate up with him.
Z turns to Josef, is she not getting better yet?
Dr Mengele shakes his head, it looks very bad for her.
Will his mother die now?
He flinches, it is sadly, likely.
He rises, he must go back to her, he is sorry to leave Z all alone but trusts that she understands.
Z nods her pretty black head and watches him leave.
One of Josef's brothers comes down and helps Z to cook a proper meal which is hurried way up the dark stairs.
Z eats hers on the sofa in silence and then shows the storybook to Pink Bunny. She cannot read this one.
The moon gleams through the window, waking the little lab rat from her sleep, she looks up to find Karl embracing Josef, and Lolo standing beside the ornate fireplace, with a dreadful look on his face.
She can hear Herr Mengele sobbing high above.
Z didn't know men could cry like that…it's heartbreaking.
The indomitable Walpurga is dead.
The world seems somehow darker, though Z only met her once and that meeting could not be called pleasant.
For her family, it seems as though the sun had gone out from the world.
Z remembers that feeling.
Lolo must go and call the family doctor, and Josef must not be here when he arrives.
Z holds out a small, golden hand but Dr Mengele turns and begins back up the staircase.
Z follows after him, she finds him kneeling beside his late Mother, her corpulent form heavy on the bed, but her face is pale and peaceful, moonlike and gentle as if she had only fallen asleep for a little while.
Z can see that she might have been pretty once upon a time.
She turns to Josef's father, his aged face streaked with tears.
Z gently puts her tiny arms around him and tells him how sorry she is.
He seems surprised but pats her thin back softly, and thanks her for her condolences.
He straightens up, kisses his beloved Wally's forehead one last time, arranges the coverlet neatly and leads them both from the room.
He embraces his eldest son as if he will never let him go, then composing himself as best he can, he calls a family friend, informs them of the passing of his beloved wife, and arranges a ride all the way to the docks for Josef and Z, in the greatest of secrecy of course: then he hurries them from the house like thieves.
Z pulls Josef along by the hand, they climb into the black, gleaming, waiting car and he sits beside her in blank, hollow silence.
Z simply reaches out and clasps his hand, saying nothing.
In a week they alight once more in Buenos Aires, they reach home where Nurse is waiting, Josef merely shakes his head.
Nurse claps a hand across her mouth and her eyes fill with tears. She is so very sorry.
Herr Doktor nods curtly, and vanishes into his study, locking the door behind him.
He does not come out to join them for lunch.
Nurse tells Z to go and play in the garden, it will be good for her eye colour: and this may help cheer him up.
Z obeys at once.
Nurse is cooking dinner when Z comes back in, with her hands full of bright, sweet-scented jungle flowers.
She arranges them in front of Dr Mengele's photograph of his late mother, like a shrine to her memory.
Josef appears and offers his lab rat a sad smile, he strokes her hair as he passes her kneeling form: she presses her soft head against his thigh and finishes arranging her blossoms.
Nurse calls and Z scampers to the table, tonight there is Asado with salad, it is a local delight that Nurse has shared before with her friends in the city.
Dr Mengele gives the mountain of fried, salted meats a suspicious eye, Nurse is sure he will enjoy it if he just tastes it, honestly, he's being nearly as bad as Z.
Z digs in, resenting being held up as a bad example.
Herr Doktor has a few letters, Nurse passes them to Z who trots around the table to give them to him since Nurse tells her it is rude to pass anything but food across during a meal, he ignores Nurse's scolding and reads them then and there.
He almost smiles, he has some friends who are greatly interested in his work.
They would like very much to meet Z: will they not do this friend the honour of joining him for dinner?
Z is nodding.
Good; they will go on Wednesday.
At last, they have all eaten as much as they possibly can.
Now, Dr Josef has been away from work too long already: come along Z.
She rises and scampers out after him.
He drives her to his hospital building and gives her tiny glass eyeballs to arrange by colour in their little silver case, whilst he sorts through his notes, selecting those he believes his friend will be most interested in.
Z smiles at the memory of sitting in his office at Auschwitz the slick globes between her fingers, laying them out in neat lines from the very deepest black to a blue so light it was almost silver.
Dr Mengele orders her to come and sit before him, tilt her head back.
Gut.
He flashes the horrible little light and notes the change in her ocular pigmentation.
He smiles, it is working beautifully, if Z were a vain little girl, she might have noticed for herself.
He shows her in a little mirror, her eyes sparkle, an eerie, pale forget me not blue.
Z privately thinks they look horrible: her skin looks too yellow now.
Smile.
Herr Dr snaps a quick half dozen or so photographs, and begins writing out a list of a new mixture that Z must be bathed in daily.
This time he will add a chemical to help lighten her skin even more quickly.
Why not begin at once?
His little rat gives him a very sour look.
Cheer up; is she not looking forward to being admired as a work of art? After all, she represents the pinnacle of future possibilities for her race.
His smile is bright as madness, with a lunatic's gleam.
Once the Reich is restored, and surely it cannot take too long, they will return to Germany and begin the lecture tour he promised her.
It's going to be very exciting, and of course, he shall be famous.
Now follow him, please.
Z shuffles along behind him, he leads her into a side room.
There is nothing but a low bathtub: the fiery scent of strange chemicals burns her nose.
She glances up, Dr Mengele smiles: there is nothing to worry about, this is merely to lighten her skin once more.
She should be glad; usually, this room is for a far sadder purpose.
He will not elaborate further. It would only upset her.
Strip, and leave her clothes in the corner, as she used to.
Her delicate fingers fumble with the buttons of her dress, but at last she has it off, and stands shivering in the cold, sad, sterile room.
Memory swirls about her like a mist, she can almost hear the song of the trains… the barking of dogs.
She starts at his hand on her shoulder, warm like fire in the suddenly cold air.
Is she going to disobey him?
Z shakes her head and slips into the water, she starts and Josef glances up from his notes.
It's warm, Z giggles.
Of course it's warm, silly lab rat. Cold water would be bad for her health; besides, it's mostly chemical.
Now be quiet and relax.
She leans back, the liquid is beginning to sting.
She starts once more.
Herr Doktor's eyes flash: did he tell her that she may move?
Z shakes her head and stares down into the water.
Her delicate, sad face looks back, with its hideous, otherworldly eyes.
She has not aged: not a day, not even a moment. Is this his doing? Is this his dark magic? Cursing her to remain a child forever?
Never to marry, to bear children, not permitted even to grow old?
She is like a favourite doll kept behind glass: trapped, with never a voice of its own, a thing of porcelain and satin and painted smiles. Unchanging.
A toy, an object: something to be admired, taken out and played with, perhaps for a very special occasion, and then returned to stillness and silence.
A subject. A lab rat.
Z, for Zigeuner, for something never quite human…
The moments tick by, slowly, painfully.
Her skin burns.
Dr Mengele looks up every so often with a half smile and returns to what really matters to him.
And Z sits in her bath of poison and tries not to cry.
At last he hauls her out, to stand shivering on the tiled floor, and orders her to go out and sit in the sun.
The odd blueish eyes widen in horror.
She is not yet dressed.
He laughs, and tells her not to be so silly: do people dress their dogs before sending them out to play? No? Then go. The sunlight here will be wonderful for her skin, and he can add these notes to her files.
Come along.
She shuffles after him, trying to decide which part to cover with her clasped hands, deciding on her lower parts, Herr Doktor turns back and warns her to stop trying his patience, it is a waste of time pretending to have human dignity.
How many times must he tell her she is not a person? Not yet.
Besides, she is pleasing to look at.
She drops her hands and raises one in a, by now all too familiar, gesture.
He sighs: as soon as her skin is healed from her bath, he will beat her for her rudeness.
She turns and flounces out into the garden, throwing herself down on the ground in a sulk.
Dr Josef tries not to smile, really he does. Besides, why should he complain? The view is excellent.
Come here; no, don't stand: human beings stand and walk upright. As befits the image of God.
Stay on her knees, and come here.
At once.
He watches the fire flash in her eyes, and then slowly, painfully she crawls toward his gleaming boots and settles herself against him in the dirt.
Sehr Gut.
He reaches out and ruffles the pretty black curls, reaching into his pocket.
Candy?
She thanks him sweetly and closes her mouth on his fingers.
Just as quickly the wet heat of her is gone, chewing happily on her sweet.
Now, look here: he turns his notebook to her and slowly, carefully explains his methodology. The war has ended badly for the Fatherland this time, but it will rise again.
Nothing has really changed, they are just staying where it is safe for a little while until they can go home.
The little girl looks bitterly away: she has no home.
He pets her soft black head, and reaches to turn her little face up to look him in the eye: that is not true. Her home is wherever he tells her it is, her home is where he can protect and care for her.
Is she forgetting to whom she owes her life?
For a moment there is only the calling of jungle birds in the hot silence.
Nein Engel.
Her voice is a thin thread of sound.
His smile is sweet as sugar and cold as ice.
Gut.
Now, on Wednesday they will meet with his esteemed colleague: Z must behave perfectly, perhaps it would be best if she is simply silent.
Not a word, unless he orders her otherwise. Rats don't talk: he can share any necessary information.
She lowers her head, staring at her knees, scuffed to a cherry red, and nods.
Gut, now go and walk around the garden, all her skin must be exposed to the light.
She rises and wanders about, like Eve in Eden.
Her devil sits and gives her half an eye, between his work.
A nervous-looking, pretty young woman with long dark hair, put up, her eyes smeared with blue powder to make her seem older than she really is, comes to the front of the building, Z can see her over the flower-filled hedgerow. Dr Mengele orders her to continue her walk and vanishes into the building.
He is gone a long time. At last he emerges as the sky begins to turn purple.
Z shudders: his white coat is covered in blood, his hands, and even his handsome face. His eyes are wide with horror. She scurries across to him.
There has been… an accident, a terrible, horrible accident.
The young lady… his last patient, she must have misled him as to her exact condition… she..
He is stumbling over his words, something Z has never heard before: panic rises in her throat.
The young lady, Maria… is… well, that is to say…
She died in the midst of her procedure… it can sometimes happen.
Dr Josef is shaking as if the air were filled with snow.
Z's stomach drops, this is not Auschwitz… Someone will be out there to care about little Maria this time, not like Z…
There will be questions…
She can see the fear rising behind his eyes like mist: if he just disposes of the body… but suppose she told someone where she was going? The teenager signed herself into his clinic: he cannot simply say she never arrived…
If the police should come looking…
He cannot run. Though it is a tempting thought.
He never loses patients by accident!
The nerve of the girl! One moment all was proceeding as it ought and then… there was so much blood… and she lay on his operating table making that awful rattling sound, that every surgeon dreads… and then it was far too quiet and the foolish child did not move again.
His two nurses have locked themselves in the ladies' lavatory, crying and afraid and frantically trying to wash off the blood.
Yet again it falls to him to fix everyone else's problems.
At least he still has Z, she can help him deal with the evid… remains.
Come Z.
Z would not disobey that voice for anything on earth.
She tiptoes after him and tries not to look at the gleaming, crimson scalpel in his hand.
Go and wash her hands at once, then come straight back to him.
She hurries into the ladies' washroom, to see the two nurses stripped to their underwear and scrubbing at each other in desperation to remove the scarlet stains.
The gypsy rolls her eyes at them, washes her hands carefully and hurries back to Dr Mengele in the hallway, he hands her a pair of latex gloves and she carefully pulls them on.
It will ensure everything is sterile.
And that she leaves no fingerprints.
Clean the body. He must prepare a report on the death and ensure everyone is aware of exactly what took place.
He hurries out to summon the nurses.
Z can't help but see the poor girl on the table, it is a dreadful sight.
She begins to scrub with a bucket of hot water and something that stings, trying not to look at the poor girl lying out like a slab of meat in a butcher's shop.
She will have no choice but to reach her eventually.
At last, the moment arrives, when she has cleaned everything else twice. Z reaches out and, with trembling, tender hands, she closes the pretty brown eyes for the very last time.
Z is not the praying sort but she hopes there is a better place for her, and… she keeps her eyes from the silver surgical bowl covered with a cloth and blood.
She can guess only too well what is in there.
Young ladies come quietly to her angel for almost no other reason.
She cleans the soft skin almost as golden as her own for the next two hours, then wads up a sterile cloth and firmly pushes it into places only a woman should care for. That should staunch the blood that still flows out.
There: now if she is covered with a blanket, she might almost be sleeping.
She opens the door and scuttles out, making her way to Dr Josef's office, he sits with his head in his hands, pale as death, he looks as though he sees fallen friends, shell fire and blood again.
Z's voice is very gentle, the cleaning is finished.
He stands, none too steadily and nods at her.
He must call the police.
She can see him sweating, whiter than ever with fear.
She puts her arms around him and holds him tight.
He strokes her hair gently and tells her to dress and go and sit in the garden.
If they ask, she has been out there all the time.
When they leave, Z must return home, no matter what happens. Does she understand?
Z nods.
She can see the policemen arrive beyond the hedgerow.
Dr Mengele offers her a sad smile and, turning, strides into the hospital to welcome them in.
Z sits and waits. The door to the facility opens and Z watches them lead Josef out with his hands cuffed behind his back. His rage is terrifying, masked behind a charming, friendly demeanour.
It reminds her of when the other doctors or officers interfered with his experiments at the camp.
Sometimes they simply disappeared, if they were lucky.
He told her to stay quiet and then go home…
She wants to help him… and the wicked half of her wants to run screaming after them and tell those two officers everything, about Auschwitz, and the medical block, her family and the twins… and the chemical bath and her poor, poor eyes!
The pitiable Maria is wheeled out, with the white sheet pulled up over her face, and the neighbours are coming out to watch. Z can see curtains moving in the warm afternoon.
If they don't move Maria out of the sun soon, the smell is going to be unbearable.
The officer looks around, and only then does Z realise she said that out loud, and Dr Mengele is looking at her as though he wants to sew her mouth shut for good.
The policeman is portly, with a kindly face and small grey moustache, he reminds her a little of a fat Dr Munch.
How does a child know such things? Has she seen many dead bodies? Here?
She looks down at her bare feet and clutches Pink Bunny tighter.
The man lays a gentle, pudgy hand on her shoulder and informs his partner that they must bring the little girl along with them.
Dr Mengele sits beside her, stiff and straight as though he were on the parade ground, he will not even look at her, and Z cringes.
They haul him into the police station, and out of her sight.
The second officer gently guides Z inside and offers her a chair in a small room, and asks if she is thirsty.
Z nods: he brings her a glass of water.
And then the questions begin, who was the young lady? How long has the Doctor had his practice? What is his name…? Helmut Gregor?
Hmmm…
He stands and with a smile leaves the room.
Z sits, trembling, terrified.
One wrong word and the men hunting her Engel could find him. It would be all her fault.
He returns with a sheaf of papers. Is she quite sure that is the Doctor's name? He has no other?
What is he treating Z for?
She thinks quickly and taps the side of her head with a finger.
He had told the neighbour she was a mental patient. She had heard him say it.
The man nods, with a tolerant smile, these things can happen in youthful years, there are so many changes, especially for little girls.
He thought perhaps the Doctor might be treating her sight, her eyes look a little strange.
Z pouts, and tells him that is very rude.
He apologises: he has simply never seen such a colour before.
Did she inherit them from her Mummy?
Z's lip trembles, and the officer asks whatever is the matter?
Z bursts into tears and tells him that her Mother was murdered.
The poor man turns white, why ever did the child not report it?
Because it was a long time ago, and in another country far away, and there was no one to help but Herr Doktor, but… but…
The man's eyes gleam, but what? Herr Doktor? That sounds German… is he German? Is she?
Z frantically shakes her head, realising too late her mistake.
She is Romanian.
The man is looking at the papers again.
He holds one up and looks from it to her as if trying to decide.
When he sets it down Z sees her own starved, shorn face looking back, that photograph was taken in Auschwitz in early 1943 to accompany her prisoner records in the administrative office. It was taken just before Dr Mengele treated her for the poison she swallowed, out of the grave-digging pits and made her his lab rat.
She has gained a little weight since then, and now she is thin like a ballerina and not like a death camp inmate, her hair is long and full and beautiful once more, no longer the brutal, shorn tufts, not even the braids Engel liked so well.
Her eyes are not so hollow, and now they are no longer black.
He cannot guess that the starved waif in the picture, is the young woman before him. Can he?
They are interrogating the good doctor as they speak, it will go easier for them both if she tells the truth, now.
He will ensure any lies she has told are overlooked, she is only a young girl clearly under the sway of a much older man, and she is not to be blamed: none of this is her fault.
He cannot help, if she will not trust him.
Is this the first time something like this has happened?
Z's memory is full of specimens in jars, eyeballs gleaming like stained glass, and the memory of her mother's cold skin, stained sapphire blue.
All this has happened before, and it will all happen again.
The officer sees that she has a few scars herself, Would she be willing to be examined? By another doctor? He will make sure he is a kind man, if she has been harmed she must be helped.
Z clutches Pink Bunny close, wrapping her arms around herself.
How about if they start with a couple of nice, easy questions?
What is her name?
Z.
He raises a bushy eyebrow. That is a letter, not a name. What does it mean?
Zigeuner: gypsy.
Is it a pet name?
Z nods.
Did the Doctor give it to her?
Another nod.
The man sighs as his certainty and sympathy grow.
What did her Mother call her?
Again the full lip trembles, she does not remember.
He looks down at the paper: was she ever a little gypsy child from Romania, whose parents named her Viollca Horvathova?
The girl bursts into tears.
He tries to reassure her she is safe now: there are many people who have been terribly worried about her. An uncle and auntie have come all the way from Spain: they have never given up looking.
There, there, don't cry: they are waiting in Germany for news of her. She can go home with them.
The war is over.
She cries harder; she wants her Engel!
What? The man is stunned.
Did she hear him? Her family have been found, she does not have to stay with her captor any longer. If she will just give them his real name, they can send him home to Germany and she can be returned to her loving family. She need never see the wicked camp Doctor again.
Z sniffles, and the man hands her a handkerchief to dry her eyes.
All she has to do is tell him the Doctor's real name…
Z is back in Auschwitz, in her little white bed, her dark curls resting on Dr Josef's chest, Pink Bunny clutched tight.
As the horrid little Goblin dances around his fire, singing.
"Merrily the feast I'll make.
Today I'll brew, tomorrow bake;
Merrily I'll dance and sing,
For next day will a stranger bring.
Little does my lady dream
Rumpelstiltskin is my name.
Rumpelstiltskin is my name!"
All she has to do is say his name, just once and his hold on her is broken forever.
What becomes of him, when he is sent back to Germany?
The policeman laughs, too cold a laugh for such a kindly face, if he is who they think: a good short rope.
The bastard sterilised three thousand women in that awful camp, her papers say.
Z considers, the image of the Angel of Death twisting in the noose, beautiful dark eyes closed forever paints itself across her mind.
Her voice speaks before she has had time to think.
That was Dr Carl Clauburg: they have the wrong man.
Dr Clauburg sterilised women: they want him; and Dr Horst Schumann. She cannot bring herself to name Dr Eduard Wirths: he was always so kind to her.
Dr Munch's part in all that horror, Z quietly determines to take to her grave.
The policeman sighs, very well. She may go home.
If she remembers anything, his name is Officer Alvarez, just come to the front desk and ask for him: even if it's the middle of the night he will get up and come down.
She smiles and thanks him.
He sadly watches her rise and shuffle out, she goes to the front desk and demands her Engel back.
The lady laughs and tells her that he is in a great deal of trouble, and will have to remain with them a little while.
Z goes sadly out. The house is too quiet: she puts food in Cat's bowl and checks his water is full too, then goes up to bed, curls up and falls into a sad sleep.
It is three days before Nurse comes home: she is visibly shaken. Thankfully she will not be charged with any wrongdoing.
Dr Mengele is to be tried, along with the doctors working with him in the clinic.
Thank God they don't have his real name.
Nurse sits in despair, whatever are they to do?
Z shakes her empty little head. Nurse rounds on her suddenly, taking her fiercely by the shoulders.
Did Z tell them anything? Has she betrayed her friends?
Z shakes her head violently.
Did she admit who she is?
The poor girl is quaking. The man guessed: he had some paper with her photograph, he knew her name.
Did she confirm it?
Z lowers her eyes and nods.
Nurse throws up her hands: well, the game is up.
She has killed Herr Doktor.
Nurse hopes she is proud of herself.
They will call him a war criminal and hang him.
She should have kept her silly mouth shut.
Z protests, she told them they had the wrong man, that they wanted Dr Clauburg instead!
It may not be enough, Nurse sighs; so many have spoken out against him.
If they have somehow got the records from Auschwitz… God only knows what the Soviets found in there.
It would look very bad for Dr Mengele.
Nurse wipes her tired face with her sleeve and rising makes her way to the kitchen, she prepares a hurried arrangement of food, gathers together anything she thinks Herr Doktor may need and puts everything in a basket and instructs Z to take it down the police station.
The little girl hurries along, and is allowed inside quickly. She tells them she is here to visit Dr Gregor, and they let her through.
She finds him in a cell, too bright for his squalid surroundings.
He brightens when he sees the basket, thanks her for bringing it, and asks personably how it felt to betray him.
He gives her a sly smile: Is she enjoying her revenge?
Z pales, and stutters that she did no such thing.
Dr Mengele laughs a little, he hears what remains of her family is coming from Germany to fetch her home.
He wishes her the best, truly.
Z stamps her tiny foot, she did NOT betray him! The policeman had her picture, and knew her name!
She told them they had the wrong man!
He reaches through the bars and pulls her as close as he is able, he appreciates that truly he does. It will not save him now, but the fact that she tried is very touching.
Will she be coming to his hanging?
She bites her lip and he watches her struggle not to cry.
If she really wants to help…
She looks up, what?
He is going to be put on trial, all the doctors he works with are.
It is only a matter of time until the authorities work out his real identity, but if Z were to telephone his Father, well he's sure all this mess could simply…disappear.
On the other hand, if she wants cold-blooded vengeance, she need simply go home and do nothing.
They will put all the puzzle pieces together soon enough, and she can come and watch him executed.
Z sits, her breath caught in her chest, she's back in the halls of Auschwitz, broken, torn and bleeding…
Do what one hundred thousand Soviet soldiers and three camp assassins failed to do: kill the Angel Of Death.
She looks up into his dark, sparkling eyes, his bright, charming smile.
Beautiful like an angel, wicked like the devil…
She imagines them leading him up to the gallows with his hands bound behind his back…he reaches the top, and turns to wink back over his shoulder…
The child is crying silent tears, and deep inside her captor smiles: a horrible smile.
He will be home before he knows it, he can persuade almost anyone of almost anything. His little lab rat is no different. He will be out of here before long…
Three days later and Dr Mengele is on trial, and in shock.
He defends himself admirably, quietly seething with rage, whilst little Z smiles vacantly at him from her seat, and he plots a thousand hideous deaths for her.
She skipped away, and never came back until today.
So, his favourite subject has made her choice, he should have injected her with chloroform when he had the chance!
Maybe even petrol, it hurts more!
Even Dr Josef, for all his silver tongue, cannot talk his way out of a death sentence, oh yes, THIS court might give him a few years for that stupid girl who all but committed suicide at his hands, but once they give him to the Israelites he's a dead man.
He wishes Z would stop smiling like that: it's quite disturbing.
The court door opens, and a man rushes in and goes up to the judge. What he says or does, Josef can neither hear nor see.
And suddenly he is being acquitted: the Judge is apologising to HIM for the inconvenience.
Z is bouncing up and down like a new puppy and has to be told to sit down three times.
She is waving a hand beside her ear! She did place the call he told her to, she is gabbling up at him, Z had to wait in until his Father called back.
Relief rushes through him like a hoard of sparkling butterflies.
Of all the fears he has suffered in the last weeks, the betrayal of little Z has been by far the most painful.
And now to find his troubles over and that she did not betray him after all!
She skips from the courtroom, holding fast to his hand and has to be ordered not to stick her tongue out at the Judge as they leave.
His fellow accused watch in blank-eyed horror at his easy escape from justice.
He leads little Z home and calls his Father, with thanks for his help.
Z waves her hand at him as he finishes the call, and she is put on the line and has a happy, half-understood gabble with Herr Mengele, she told him about her new pet butterflies that live in the garden.
Nurse is beyond relieved to see Herr Doktor returned, and they talk in anxious, low voices whilst Z cooks the dinner and look away whenever she looks around.
Fear has come to stay in the half house they rent, Z can almost feel it unpacking its bags.
She lays a good meal before them, and Dr Mengele ruffles her hair in gratitude, Nurse offers to wash the dishes and Z drags Josef out to the garden to meet her butterflies, he, recalling his zoology studies in university tries to explain to her in great detail about their properties, habitat and diet, the gypsy merely blinks up at him and points out their various "cute" features.
He sighs, but she does at least seem interested in feeding them a proper diet and shows interest in ensuring a correct habitat.
If he tries to attach them to cards to study, Z is going to pin HIM to the wall, and it will hurt because she will need to find a very large pin.
He laughs at her serious little face and assures her that butterflies are the least of his scientific interests.
Now, Z must go to bed.
He tucks her in and reads her a story about three bears.
He leaves her to sleep, she can hear low, angry voices through the wall: it is very late before Dr Mengele slips in beside her.
With no medical facility any longer, Nurse plans to return home.
Z helps her pack and waves her off from the door, Herr Doktor barely looks up from his paper.
Z settles onto the sofa beside him and looks at the large black and white photographs of the liberation of her old home, Auschwitz: Dr Mengele smiles out at her from the page.
He sits beside her, tense and angry.
He reads on, muttering about the repulsive lies they spread about him.
The Jude have put a price on his head, and there is a rumour that his beloved Germany may issue a warrant for his arrest.
Mossad are forever printing lies about him in the world press, Z looks at the terribly sad pictures and tries to ignore the whisper of snowflakes that fall from a half remembered sky, the pitch black smoke and the endless song of the trains beyond her little, frosted window.
She looks out at the bright Argentine sun and announces it is time to take the butterflies for their daily flutter.