You'll Be Surprised
Chapter Ten


Free University, West Berlin
1989

Sandra Edwards was on the edge of her seat by now, waiting for Professor Setrakian to continue his story of a visit from Commandant Eichhorst to his solitary woodcarving cage.

'I remember every word,' Setrakian told her. 'Eichhorst said, "I've never been good with my hands - cannot draw or sculpt or carve anything." He huffed and looked up at me with a self- deprecating smile, then asked, "Want to know how pathetic I am?" I didn't know how to respond and I didn't say anything but I can't recall if I smiled or sneered or gave some other gesture. He continued with an extraordinary confession: "In Middle School woodworking, I had to steal another boy's project to pass the class. How sad is that?" For a second, I did feel a little bit sorry for him, can you believe? He seemed so lost as if he, the commandant of a death camp, in absolute control of all our lives, still hadn't found purpose in his own life. I even tried to reassure him by saying that we all have different talents. It seemed to break the spell and the moment of …well, almost of intimacy, was gone. He stood, resumed the aloofness of a superior and nodded. "Quite right," he said. "Managing people, that's my talent. Picking the right person for the right job. Just as I did with you on this project. And God I was right." He was breathless with admiration at my work. He locked me in and left and then he said he wished he had more like me and smiled that evil smile. I didn't know what he meant by that: more skilled craftsman? – the workshops were full of us…'

'Or more people he could confide in? Get close to?' suggested Sandra.

'Mmf,' Setrakian scoffed.

'Very interesting,' said Corey. 'But can you give me anything pertinent to a trial. Anything specific about either of these two men in terms of criminal activity…Other than Eichhorst's murder of Mr Weiss and the threatening behaviour of Dr Dreverhaven. Were you an eye witness to any of the medical experiments?'

Setrakian froze, announced a break for lunch and walked out. Corey was annoyed that as soon as he introduced a subject of relevance in the real world, the old man clammed up and ran away. He was also still full from breakfast and not the least bit hungry. Sandra was more observant.

'Did you see that? He was visibly disturbed at the mere mention of the doctor's name. Yet he was voluble when recounting his memories of Eichhorst. I reckon that's how we should get him to open up when he comes back. What do you think we should do? Hang around here for a while? I'm not hungry yet. How about you?'

Corey shook his head. 'But once the professor starts talking about the war again, I don't want to stop him to go on a snack run. I only hope I can keep him off the subject of vampires!'

'Well then, let's grab some sandwiches from the refectory and come back to wait for him here.'

Hours later, the sandwiches, a couple bars of candy and a sharing bag of chips had been devoured and the youngsters were snuggled up together napping on the old professor's camp bed. At least they weren't actually screwing when Setrakian returned.

He coughed pointedly and they leapt up - embarrassed, dishevelled and sleepy.

'Oh, did I wake you?' Setrakian asked sarcastically. He didn't address his long absence other than saying that he'd brought coffee for everyone. Half a cup down, Corey recovered enough to try to bring the conversation back to the war while Sandra was in the Ladies, trying to fix her hair. The eighties were not a low-maintenance era for hair-styling.

'Did Eichhorst let slip anything during one of his visits with you, Professor?' asked Corey. 'A clue to his plans after the war or his SS career before the camp, maybe?

Setrakian thought for a minute and then said tentatively, 'There was one time he suggested he might have been in the Einsatzgruppen, earlier in the war.'

Corey's ears pricked. 'Tell me about that, please, Professor.'

'I was working late at night. I was permitted to stay in the workshop as long as I wished, you see. I had just broken into the silver sorters' cage and stolen a table knife, when I heard the outer door being opened and some unsteady footsteps coming down the corridor. I quickly got out of there, stashed the knife under my work bench and looked busy at my task again. I did not want an intoxicated guard to have any excuse to beat me. I was protected, of course, but alcohol made them reckless and even more gratuitously violent.

'I didn't expect a guard, though. It was only Eichhorst who visited me and that is who the footsteps belonged to. He tottered down onto a stool near the entrance and told me to pick up the pace, as Russian mortars exploded all around. The bombardment had only begun to get close enough to shake the dust from the ceiling for the last hour or so and had obviously made him impatient.

'The project had made me uncomfortable from the moment I'd seen the plans. It was obvious it had nothing to do with the war but I felt a professional pride in completing it to the best of my ability. I reassured Eichhorst that I would finish it and he chuckled, admiring my "work ethic". I said that we all worked hard where I came from and he wanted to know where that was. I told him I was born in Armenia but moved to Vârşolţ in Romania after the first war.

'The name of Vârşolţ jogged his memory from 1941. Apparently, he had, in his words, "traveled through there" that summer. I assumed he didn't mean that he was vacationing there. He didn't volunteer anything more on the purpose of his visit there and I didn't ask, but at any rate he seems to have found time to see the sights, such as they are.

'He staggered over to me, eyes glazed, hand outstretched, almost as if he were going to stroke my hair, and he stopped just behind me. Just as he was remarking on the Ancient Roman castra that the village boasted, I heard the zzzpp sound of him undoing his pants…'

'Oh my God, Professor!' exclaimed Sandra, horrified. She'd resumed her place right up close to Setrakian in time to hear most of the story. 'What did you think when he undid his flies?'

Corey was getting tired of his fiancée's interest in these two dead Nazis. He rolled his eyes and exchanged Dreverhaven's picture for Eichhorst's and began to doodle on the commandant instead.

'Exactly what you're imagining, quite probably, my dear,' said the Professor. 'But he only relieved himself in my pissoir.'

'Oh, thank God!' she said, her hand pressed to her throat in relief. It seemed affected and Setrakian wondered if the relief was real.

'Then he asked me if I thought the Third Reich would last...'

'As if you were a friend?' interrupted Sandra, incredulously.

Setrakian nodded. 'And when I said no, he proceeded to orate zealously on behalf of Hitler and another entity who he said would deliver everything Hitler promised and more.'

'Who do you think that might be?' asked Corey, his interest rekindled.

Setrakian paused. 'You aren't yet ready for a new introduction,' he said.

'Oh right,' said Corey, bored again. 'Another vampire I take it. Come on, Sandra, it's late. We'd better head back to the hotel.'

'But he's so fascinating,' she protested. 'I could listen to you for hours, Professor,' she told Setrakian.

'We'll start again in the morning,' he said. 'Perhaps tomorrow, Mynheer Henke won't tire so easily.'

Corey scowled and Sandra smirked. 'Will you tell us about the other "entity" then?' she asked.

'Maybe,' twinkled Setrakian. 'Remember, keep each other close.' He bent his head to the study of his vampire books once again and automatically lowered his reading glasses from the top of his head to his nose. He squinted through them, then lifted them to examine the tiny print without them.

Sandra noticed as she was putting her coat on and asked offhandedly, 'Are you having problems?'

'Yes,' he said. 'It's the strangest thing. I have needed increasing prescriptions for reading lenses since my forties but in the last few months, I can't seem to focus with them on. In fact, it's better without the spectacles. Very odd. Still, I can't complain about improving eyesight now, can I?' He tried to chuckle. 'Off with you quickly now, before it gets dark.'