Read Online A Murder in Auschwitz by J.C. Stephenson - Free Book Online Page B

and both Meyer and Klara had lost their fathers in the trenches, Meyer’s father on the western front and Klara’s in the east. Both had brothers who had fought in the war. Klara’s had only been at the front for a few months before the Armistice.
    There had been some resistance to the relationship at first from Klara’s mother and her older brother Karl, although this became much less when they found that Manfred Meyer also had a Jewish father. Even though they were not orthodox Jews, Klara’s mother wanted her daughter to marry into the faith, saying that was what her father would have wanted, even though Klara could never remember her father being very Jewish at all. It was her mother who took her to the synagogue and Karl who accompanied her to the evening dances, although this was an excuse to allow him to meet friends in the city’s beer cellars. This allowed Klara a certain amount of freedom. As long as she didn’t leave the dance hall until her brother arrived, she was free to dance with Meyer all evening, every week. After the dance, Meyer would wait with her outside the hall until Karl arrived, when he would dutifully hand her over to her brother’s care without even a kiss. Klara always glanced back at the last moment before turning the corner, and Meyer would wink at her which would always make her laugh.
    This continued for several months, until one night, when Karl did not turn up to take Klara home. It was mid-summer, and Meyer waited with Klara in the balmy evening, relishing every extra second he got to spend with her as they waited for her usually punctual brother to appear around the corner. Klara began to get worried after only ten minutes since Karl was always on time and was even sometimes early, waiting for her at the bottom of the steps of the hall.
    After half an hour, Klara was frantic. Meyer tried to calm her by suggesting all sorts of scenarios where Karl may have been held up, but his powers of persuasion were not yet that of a lawyer. After an hour of waiting, Meyer told Klara that he would need to take her home. He told her that he was sure that Karl was alright but something had stopped him from coming to meet her. It was more likely that her brother was already at home and, if not, if he did come to get her this late from the dance hall, Karl would realise that she would have been taken home by him. Klara agreed, and Meyer had her take him by the arm as they headed for the tram stop.
    Klara’s mother greeted Klara with surprise and Meyer with suspicion when they arrived at her home. She peppered them with questions. Where was Karl? Why were they so late? Who was this boy bringing her daughter home?
    Meyer had assured her that he had only brought her home because Karl had failed to turn up, and they were so late because they had wanted to give Karl a reasonable amount of time to arrive. But as with Klara, Meyer could not persuade her mother that something dreadful had not happened to Karl.
    While they waited, Klara’s mother had spent the time asking Meyer all about himself and his family. He told her all about his father and his brother being lost in the war and all about his mother and her delicious cakes. Meyer had noticed a spark of hope in her worried eyes as he mentioned his Jewish roots.
    It was just as he was being asked about his plans for a career that there was a knock at the door. Klara and her mother had rushed to the door to find Karl outside, covered in blood but not badly hurt. Meyer had helped clean him up as he told them what had happened.
    He and his friends had been in a beer cellar that they frequented each week, when some rabble from a Freikorps had come in. Although Karl and his friends had found a corner away from the main bar, one of the Freikorps men had spotted him.
    Karl was a handsome young man, very tall, with dark hair and eyes. Along with these features, his olive skin and long nose betrayed his heritage, and insults began to be thrown his way. It