Выбрать главу

Helen and Louis took Rebecca to the first aid room. She was dazed, robotlike. By the time the doctor came to see her, she was catatonic. She did not know where she was, she did not recognize Louis or Helen. When Dr. Franks arrived an hour later, they arranged for her to be taken to his clinic.

Torsen sat in the patrol car, his face so pale it seemed almost blue. "She's dead. The lion attacked her, she's dead..."

Rieckert swore. "Shit! What a thing to miss. Wish I'd been there."

Torsen shook his head. "No. No, I don't think so. It was one of the saddest, most horrifying things I have ever seen. I don't think I can drive home. Will you drive us back?"

Torsen moved to the backseat, and Freda held his hand. She knew he was crying, but that made her feel even closer to him.

"She seemed to give herself to the animal. She had no fear. From where I was standing I could see her face... and she smiled, I am sure of it... She smiled, as if she knew she was going to die."

Freda stroked his arm. "I see it every day, those who are afraid to let go, and those who welcome the end. It's strange, when it's over all the pain in their faces is gone."

He was quiet for a moment. "I know she killed once, maybe twice. No one will ever know exactly what happened and I doubt if I would ever have been able to prove it!"

Luis Grimaldi, wearing a big overcoat, stood by the stonecutter, whose face and overalls were covered with a fine film of dust. The man's large, gnarled hands held the sheet of paper tightly, because of the wind. The rain that had not stopped for days made the ink drawing run.

"Can you do it?"

"Yes. It'll take a while, and I'll need a very large block. Black marble is the most expensive. I have to have it shipped in from Italy."

"I'll pay whatever it costs. I've brought you photographs. If there's anything else you need, you know where to contact me!"

The stonecutter watched the big broad-shouldered man walk out of his yard. He carefully folded the damp sheet of paper. He had received some strange requests for headstones in the past, but never one like this.

When the marble arrived he set to work. In truth, he relished the challenge. As the massive head began to take shape, it seemed to take on a life of its own. He buffed and polished, then stood back to gaze in admiration. He felt an enormous sense of achievement. This work surpassed any of the other angels he'd carved to guard over the dead.

At first he had considered taking over the act, but every animal reminded him of Ruda, and he sold all the cats to the Russian trainer. He then sold the trailer to the circus management. Now there was nothing left to keep him in Berlin. He made no attempt to find Rebecca, but wrote her a brief note care of the Grand Hotel giving details of Ruda's burial. He also sent her the small black tin box, feeling that perhaps the contents would mean something to Rebecca. But he did not want to see her. He blamed her for Ruda's death.

Luis had no thought of what he would do next, he was at a loss. Without Ruda he didn't seem able to function in the world to which he had introduced her.

He knew just one thing. He had to wait until the headstone was ready.

The sky was clear and cloudless the day he went to say his last good-bye. Grimaldi could see it immediately, towering above the other tombstones, and his breath caught in his throat. He had done something right. Immediately after Ruda's death, when he had been inconsolable, blaming himself, the tears he had shed had broken from him in gasping sobs. Now he wept gently, tears welling up and spilling down his cheeks.

He towered above her, his wonderful head resting on his paws, his black mane, his wide black eyes. His jaw was open in warning not to touch or trespass upon the grave. Carved in gold was his name. MAMON.

RUDA GRIMALDI.
Died February 1992.
A Wild Animal Trainer.
May she rest in fearless peace.

Chapter 21

After the tragedy Rebecca was in a catatonic state for quite some time. She had no memory of Ruda's death. She was kept heavily sedated until Dr. Franks felt she was mentally and physically strong enough to continue the sessions under hypnosis.

Helen Masters had returned to France. The baron wrote her about Rebecca's treatment, as if the letters were in some way therapeutic for him. The sessions took place every other day, to give Rebecca time to absorb and accept each new insight. Under deep hypnosis she began to recall the incidents that her adopted mother had sought to cover up. Her breakdowns were linked directly to Ruda's proximity. Whenever Ruda had tried to contact her, be it out of hatred or love, Rebecca's rages began. Louis Marechal checked the date of each incident against circus schedules. In each case, unbeknownst to Rebecca, Ruda had been physically near.

Rebecca's more recent mental breakdowns had coincided with the arrival of Mamon in Ruda's life. Mamon's strong will and expressiveness had forced Ruda to use all her determination to train him. In teaching him to learn the colors of the pedestals, she had tapped into Rebecca's subconscious. When Ruda was in close proximity, these color drills created havoc in Rebecca's head.

Gradually the jigsaw puzzle became clear: Rebecca was taken back to Birkenau. She described horrifying events, as she saw them when she was a child. At times she was quite cheerful. She spoke about the babies, how she had wanted one as a doll. She chattered on, about the funny thin people, the wires, the other children. At one session she actually stunned Dr. Franks by laughing.

"What is so funny?"

She recalled a young guard who used to play with the children.

He would rip up little bits of paper, put them on the end of his nose and blow them away like snowflakes. "We called him the Snowman!"

"Was this man kind to you?"

She fell silent, and Franks repeated the question. She whispered that he was not very nice, not all the time. Franks tried to find out why, but she was unsure... she said he would take children across the wire fences to the gray hot place where they baked bread. Whoever he took away never returned.

She talked at length about what her Papa had given her: the white frilly dress, the white socks, and patent leather shoes.

She giggled and she said she loved him. "I got a dolly with yellow hair. He said it was as yellow as the dirty Jews' stars."

The sessions disturbed Louis. He felt a hopelessness, a fear that Rebecca would never be returned to him. Often he had to walk out of the viewing room, but always he came back.

Six months after Ruda's death, Franks decided Rebecca was strong enough to delve more deeply into the past, sometimes without hypnosis. She talked of the woman whom Ruda had nicknamed "Red Lips." Franks surmised that the woman was the notorious Irma Griese, known for her beauty — and remembered for her cruelty to the inmates at Auschwitz and Birkenau. Rebecca recalled that Griese always smelled of flowers.

"Ruda said she wanted to be like her when she grew up. Red Lips used to have a whip tucked into her boots, like a lion tamer, and when she was near, because of her perfume, we didn't smell the bread. They made bread, day and night. Papa told us that was why the flames were red, the ovens had to be hot for the sweet bread."

At the next session, Franks noticed a physical change in his patient. The child in Rebecca was beginning to recede, she was subdued. When he asked if she was feeling unwell her voice took on a strange dullness.

"My frock is dirty."

Franks waited but she said nothing more. He hypnotized her again and she sat throughout the session with her head deeply bowed. She no longer smiled.