“Investigations have been made.” Frau Hegemann sat rigid in the chair, her spine a rod of iron. “The girl should never have been allowed in here at all. The documents that supposedly substantiated her racial background were discovered to be forgeries; her mother’s Nordic blood was mixed with that of her father’s ethnic group, a degenerate strain in which this heterochromia is common.”
Liesel hadn’t heard that word before, but could guess what it meant: that other baby’s condition of one blue eye, one brown. She liked the word mongrel better, to describe such creatures. The same word someone would use for those gaunt, garbage-eating dogs in the street.
“I suppose you could drown the baby.” She tried to keep from smiling. “In a bucket of water. My uncle, on his farm, used to do that with kittens.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Frau Hegemann. “The child in question is healthy and sound, other than its regrettable… features.” The hostel director’s mouth curled in distaste. “There are other considerations to be kept in mind. This child is the offspring of an SS officer of note. As such, it presents us with a dilemma as to its… disposition. Until such time as the Rasse- und Siedlungshauptamt makes a further determination about what is to be done, we have been instructed to make sure that the child is to be placed in a racially fit household. That is why I wished to speak to you.”
“I’ll be happy to help,” said Liesel, “in any way I can.”
Frau Hegemann studied her for a moment. “I’m sure you will be. I’m also sure that you’ll understand the need for discretion in this matter…”
The other girl had been placed in a private room as well. A room with a locked door.
“I’m hoping there will be no emotional display.” The hostel director dropped her jangling key ring into the deep pocket of her dress. “The girl might have the decency to understand what her duty should be.”
The senior nurse closed the door behind them. The girl, this Marte, was sitting up in bed, the infant cradled in her arms. She bent her face down low to it, as though murmuring secrets into the small pink shell of the child’s ear.
“Marte -” Frau Hegemann kept her voice soft, as calming as possible. “You do remember, don’t you? That the whole purpose of our being here, the creating of the Lebensborn program… it’s all for a reason, the bringing into existence of healthy new life. Life of pure blood. The babies that are born here are to be considered as gifts to the race, and to the Fuhrer. You understand that, don’t you?”
The girl held the infant closer to herself. That was a bad sign – the hostel director could see that the girl was going to make this more difficult than it needed to be.
“I was told,” said Marte, “that I could keep my baby. Before I came here – that’s what I was told. If that was what I wanted.”
“Yes. Ordinarily, we do give the girls that option. There should be no stigma attached to an unmarried woman whose child was fathered by a hero of the Reich. The outmoded morals of the past are to be extinguished. But…” Frau Hegemann drew in a deep breath. “There are unusual circumstances in your case. Surely you see that.”
A fierce light glinted in the girl’s eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my baby.”
“Your child’s health is not the issue.” Frau Hegemann felt her jaw tensing. The impulse to slap the silly girl, to make her see sense, was almost irresistible. “Its racial background – your racial background – that is the problem. You know you are not the pure Aryan that your forged documents made you out to be. Unfortunately for you, the genetic contamination in your blood has shown up in your child. One of life’s ironies is that degenerate breeding is so powerful; it drags the good, strong blood down to its level. And that is why it is so important for our people – the true Nordic race – to safeguard their precious inheritance from those who would defile it. From such as you.”
The infant whimpered, caught in the girl’s embrace. “I’m keeping him.”
“That’s not possible. You must try to understand. This is Rassenschande – you are a racial criminal. And worse, you have engaged an officer of the SS in this crime, the mixing of bloods.” Frau Hegemann’s voice rose, her anger overwhelming her resolution to stay calm. “Do you really think you can be allowed to raise this child? That the Reich can trust one such as you? That when people see this Mischling, this little half-breed, and they ask who is its father, you won’t say your baby’s father wears the black uniform?”
The girl had shrunk beneath the lash of the hostel director’s spittle-flecked shout, bowing her head and wrapping herself around the infant in her arms. The infant had started to cry. As though no one else existed in the room, the girl opened the front of her robe and put the infant to her breast.
Frau Hegemann nodded to the senior nurse.
“Let me take him,” the nurse said softly, reaching down. “Everything will be all right. There’s nothing you have to worry about…”
The girl drew back, her eyes wide with fear and anger. “No -” She shook her head. “Don’t touch him.”
“There, now.” The nurse had managed to get her hands around the swaddled form. “No need to make a fuss…”
“No!” The girl jerked the infant out of the nurse’s grasp. She twisted her shoulder and upper back toward the women, her spine arched as she bent protectively over her child. “Go away! Leave us alone!”
Frau Hegemann had hoped that it would be easy, that the girl would see it was her duty to give up the child. It should have been easy; this girl Marte had been so quiet and timid since the day she had arrived at the hostel. So little trouble that one could have forgotten her, let her presence fade from one’s mind, if it hadn’t been for the loveliness of her face, the radiance of her white-blonde hair. Of course that was why the Obersturmfuhrer had fallen for her, bestowed his valuable seed upon her; men were all fools in that way.
But where had this other girl come from? This one who cried out and clung to her baby? There had been nothing like this, nothing at all, behind that beautiful, still mask…
The infant could be torn in two, if the nurse could even get her hands on it again, before the girl would give it up.
Frau Hegemann reached down and grabbed a fistful of Marte’s golden hair, pulling the girl’s head around toward her. With her other hand, she slapped the girl’s face, hard enough to shock and stun her, mouth opening wide as a red mark in the shape of a palm and fingers swelled on her white cheek.
The blow had been enough to loosen the girl’s grasp; the nurse snatched the child away. The infant, pulled from its mother’s breast, wrinkled its face like a small clenched fist and emitted a thin, piping wail.
“No -” Marte clawed across Frau Hegemann’s shoulders and face, her outstretched hands trying to reach the nurse. The hostel director struck the girl again, a blow to her neck that sent her sprawling on the bed. She still tried to get past the hostel director, rearing up and struggling toward her child. “Give him back to me -”
A pair of younger nurses, summoned from outside the room, pinned the girl against the headboard. They could barely hold her as she struggled. Her disheveled hair tangled across her tear-streaked face. The scream that broke from her mouth echoed in the cry of the infant being carried down the hallway.
“You are a stupid creature.” Frau Hegemann, her jaw clenching in fury, stood at the side of the bed. “It’s for the best.” She slapped the weeping girl, then again, harder. “Don’t you understand? It’s for the best -”
SEVEN
The little mongrel bitch was leaving – Liesel watched with satisfaction as the car rolled toward the hostel’s gates. She let the curtain fall back into place. Frau Hegemann was sticking the other girl, the mother of the baby in Liesel’s arms, on a train back to Berlin. Where she could just slink back into the darkness where she belonged.