On Christmas Day, before the carol singing started, Father Beer appeared at Osewoudt’s side and said: ‘I’ve been praying for you. I prayed for the Leica to be found.’
Osewoudt couldn’t think of anything better to say than: ‘That was very kind of you.’
When Father Beer made to leave after the carols, he said, in passing: ‘I shall pray for you again. Times like these tend to be most auspicious for the granting of special prayers. I will be back tomorrow; we’ll have some more singing. You needn’t join in if you don’t want to, you know!’
Father Beer kept his word and returned on Boxing Day. Carols were duly sung, and some parcels were handed out. There was nothing for Osewoudt, because there was no one to send him anything.
Father Beer came to sit at his bedside.
‘I prayed to all the saints on your behalf. I’ll go on praying until that camera is found. God’s goodness is infinite, and we must not despair.’
But Osewoudt turned over on his side and said: ‘Well, if it’s all the same to you, I have a headache. I’d prefer to rest. You and I were never destined to see eye to eye.’
On the morning of 27 December, Selderhorst came into the ward. Sister Kruisheer followed, holding a brown woollen dressing gown over her arm and a pair of slippers in her hand.
Selderhorst carried a small cardboard box with the flaps open. ‘Well now, Osewoudt, guess what’s in here!’
Osewoudt sat up in bed and held out his hands for the box.
‘A present from Father Christmas,’ said Selderhorst, lifting the box teasingly just out of his reach.
‘It’s not my Leica, is it?’
‘You never know. Have a look.’
He put the box down on Osewoudt’s knees.
Osewoudt pushed the flaps aside and lifted the camera out of the box. His high tenor shrilled out in the ward.
‘When was it found? This morning?’
‘Oh no, we’ve had it for a week or so. Is it yours?’
‘Yes! It’s mine!’
Osewoudt turned the rewind knob.
‘And the film’s still in it!’
‘It must be yours. At least, the serial numbers match those you gave us. And it’s still got the film in it.’
‘Then why haven’t you had the film developed? If you had, you’d have seen that Dorbeck’s on it!’
‘Have it developed? No! You’d better do that yourself — you being such an expert developer! You did pretty well with those films of Olifiers, remember? Now you can have a go developing a film of your own.’
‘How am I to do that? I don’t have any equipment.’
‘But we have. We’ve fixed up a very nice darkroom for you. Come along.’
Sister Kruisheer held out the dressing gown.
Osewoudt kicked off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. It took a moment for him to get his arms in the sleeves of the dressing gown because he couldn’t bear to let go of the Leica.
At last he stood up unsteadily beside the bed, his feet in the slippers. A woollen scarf was tied round his neck. Sister Kruisheer took his arm to hold him up. He pressed the Leica to his chest with both hands.
‘I always knew it would be found! How did it happen? It’s a miracle! Did they say where they found it?’
His eyes were riveted on the camera as he shuffled out of the ward, flanked by Sister Kruisheer and Selderhorst.
‘It’s damaged, they must have thrown it about. There’s a crack in the lens. If the worst comes to the worst it can be mended, I’m sure,’ Osewoudt muttered to himself.
On the stairs, he said: ‘When I’m released I’ll take a farewell photograph of you all.’
His teeth chattered as he went down the chilly ground-floor corridor.
They led him through the basement to the cell he had occupied before. Awaiting him there were Spuybroek, another guard, a man in an overcoat and a man in a white lab coat.
‘This gentleman is an army photographer,’ said Selderhorst. ‘He’s made everything ready for you. The glass tiles by the ceiling have been covered over. You’ll find everything you need over there, on the table. It’s all up to you now.’
On the table stood a small tank and bottles containing fluids.
Osewoudt read the labels on the bottles and said: ‘The light has to be switched off.’
They gave him a chair and switched off the light.
He unscrewed the camera in the dark and felt with the tips of his fingers that the film was still in it. He took out the film, wound it on to the spool of the tank, and put the cover on the tank.
‘We can have the light on again now,’ he said.
They switched the light on.
‘It’s the same film,’ he said. ‘I can tell by the cassette.’
He held out the empty cassette. They nodded, but did not take it from him.
‘Has anybody got a watch?’
He was slumped forward on the table, giving the tank a shake from time to time. His ears throbbed with fever.
The gentleman in the overcoat said: ‘How fascinating this photography business is! I take photographs myself in my free time, but this is the first chance I’ve had to see a film being developed!’
Osewoudt looked at the watch, poured the contents of the tank into the first bottle and filled the tank with the second bottle.
Ten minutes later he said: ‘It should be ready now.’
They all crowded round as he unscrewed the lid.
He stood up, took the spool from the tank and began to unwind the film from the spool.
The first length of film to emerge was blank.
‘It was a film that had hardly been used,’ Osewoudt said.
He had now drawn a metre of film from the spool, and still it was blank. Finally, on the last bit to unwind from the spool, there was a small dark oblong.
Selderhorst snatched the film from Osewoudt and held it up to the light.
‘I’ll be dammed! What have we got here? It’s you! It’s you, isn’t it? And the bloke sitting next to you — who’s he? Oh, but that’s Obersturmführer Ebernuss! Ebernuss, for Christ’s sake!’
Osewoudt grabbed hold of the wet film with both hands and pulled, but Selderhorst would not let go.
Osewoudt began to scream: ‘That’s a different photo! That’s a photo taken in Moorlag’s attic, when I was there with Ebernuss. But the next picture must be the one of me with Dorbeck! It must be further along the film!’
Selderhorst, Spuybroek, the gentleman and the photographer put their heads together and stared at the single dark oblong on the long strip of clear celluloid. They were all at least a head taller than Osewoudt.
Osewoudt tugged again at the film, although he had already seen that there was just the one exposure on it.
‘All right, see for yourself!’
Selderhorst let go, Osewoudt scrutinised the film. Then he said: ‘It’s not possible! Where’s Dorbeck?’
Selderhorst said: ‘I think Dorbeck’s with your friend Marianne in her kibbutz! If he’s as much like you as you say, she won’t have noticed the difference.’
‘How is this possible? The whole world is against me, even the light has let me down.’
He backed away, although no one said anything, no one moved.
‘What are you staring at like a bunch of idiots? Go and find Dorbeck, I tell you, Dorbeck knows everything. Everything, I tell you. Without Dorbeck I am nothing, I don’t mind admitting it. Dorbeck is everything.’
Osewoudt turned round.
Trailing the film on the floor behind him, he took a few steps towards the door.
‘Damn you, Dorbeck, where are you? Why won’t you show your face? Perhaps he’s right here in this building. Perhaps he’s being held in another section. I’ll track him down all right. He planned it so the Germans would go looking for me instead of him, and now I’m in prison for doing as he said. It can’t be possible!’