The Tattooist of Auschwitz

The three men walk back downstairs to another sumptuous room, where an officer opens a large vault set into a wall. The minder enters the vault and brings out two metal tins, which he places on the desk. In one there is currency, in the other, jewellery. Lale can see many other similar tins shelved in the vault.

‘Fredrich will bring you here each morning and you will take both money and jewellery for the girls. We need eight to ten each night. Just show them the payment and if need be, give them a small amount of money in advance. Tell them they will be paid in full when they arrive at the chalet, and when the evening is over they will be returned to their homes safe and well.’

Lale attempts to reach into the jewellery tin, which is promptly slammed shut.

‘Have you struck a rate with them already?’ he asks.

‘I’ll leave that to you to figure out. Just get the best deal you can. Understand?’

‘Sure, you’d like prime beef for the price of sausage.’ Lale knows the right thing to say.

The officer laughs. ‘Go with Fredrich; he’ll show you around. You can take your meals in the kitchen or your room – let the chefs know.’

Fredrich takes Lale downstairs and introduces him to two of the chefs. He tells them he would prefer to eat in his room. Fredrich tells Lale that he must not go above the first floor and, even there, he is to enter no room but his own. He gets the message loud and clear.

A few hours later Lale is brought a meal of lamb in thick, creamy sauce. The carrots are cooked al dente and drip with butter. The whole dish is garnished with salt, pepper and fresh parsley. He had wondered if he might have lost the ability to appreciate rich flavours. He hasn’t. What he has lost, however, is the ability to enjoy the food before him. How can he, when Gita is not there to share it with him? When he has no idea whether she has anything to eat at all? When he has no idea … but he suppresses that thought. He is here now, and he must do what he has to do before he can find her. He only eats half of what’s on his plate. Always save some; that is how he has lived these past years. Along with the food, Lale drinks most of a bottle of wine. It takes some effort to undress himself before he flops onto his bed and enters the sleep of the intoxicated.

He is woken the next morning by the clang of a breakfast tray being placed on the table. He can’t remember if he locked his room or not. Perhaps the chef has a key anyway. The evening’s empty tray and bottle are taken away. All without a word.

After breakfast he takes a quick shower. He is slipping on his shoes when Fredrich walks in. ‘Ready?’

Lale nods. ‘Let’s go.’

First stop, the study with the vault. Fredrich and another officer look on as Lale selects a quantity of cash, which is counted and noted in a ledger, then a combination of small items of jewellery and a few loose gems, also noted.

‘I’m taking more than I probably need because it’s my first time and I have no idea what the going rate is, OK?’ he says to both men.

They shrug.

‘Just make sure you return anything you don’t give away,’ the accountant officer says.

Putting the money in one pocket and the jewels in another, Lale follows Fredrich to a large garage block by the chalet. Fredrich commandeers a jeep, Lale gets in and they drive the few kilometres into the village Lale came through yesterday. Was it only yesterday? How can I feel so different already? During the journey Fredrich tells him they will drive a small truck in to pick up the girls in the evening. It isn’t comfortable, but it’s the only vehicle they have that can take twelve. As they enter the village, Lale asks, ‘So, where should I look for likely girls?’

‘I’ll drop you at the top of the street. Go into all the shops. Workers or customers, it doesn’t matter as long as they are young and preferably pretty. Find their price, show them the payment – if they want something upfront give them cash only. Tell them we will pick them up at six o’clock outside the bakery. Some have been before.’

‘How will I know if they’re already attached?’

‘They’ll say no, I’m thinking. They might also throw something at you, so be prepared to duck.’ As Lale gets out, he says, ‘I’ll be waiting and watching. Take your time. And don’t do anything stupid.’

Lale heads to a nearby boutique, hoping no husbands or boyfriends have gone shopping with their partners today. Everyone looks at him when he enters. He says hello in Russian, before remembering he is in Austria and switching to German.

‘Hello, ladies, how are you today?’

The women look at each other. A few giggle before a shop attendant asks, ‘Can I help you? Are you looking for something for your wife?’

‘Not exactly. I want to talk to all of you.’

‘Are you Russian?’ a customer asks.

‘No, I’m Slovakian. However, I am here on behalf of the Russian army.’

‘Are you staying in the chalet?’ asks another customer.

‘Yes.’

To Lale’s relief one of the shop attendants speaks up, ‘Are you here to see if we want to party tonight?’

‘Yes, yes, I am. Have you been before?’

‘I have. Don’t look so frightened. We all know what you want.’

Lale looks around. There are two shop assistants and four customers.

‘Well?’ he says cautiously.

‘Show us what you’ve got,’ a customer says.

Lale empties his pockets onto the counter as the girls gather around.

‘How much can we have?’

Lale looks at the girl who has been to the chalet before.

‘How much were you paid last time?’

She waves a diamond-and-pearl ring under his nose, ‘Plus ten marks.’

‘OK, how about I give you five marks now, another five tonight and your choice of a piece of jewellery?’

The girl rummages through and picks out a pearl bracelet. ‘I’ll have this one.’

Lale takes it gently from her hand. ‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘Be at the bakery at six tonight. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ she says.

Lale hands her five marks, which she stuffs down her bra.

The remaining girls peruse the jewellery and choose what they want. Lale gives them each five marks. There is no haggling.

‘Thank you, ladies. Before I leave, can you tell me where I might find some like-minded beauties?’

‘You could try the cafe a few doors down, or the library,’ one of them suggests.

‘Be careful of the grandmas in the cafe,’ one woman says with a giggle.

‘What do you mean, “grandmas”?’ Lale asks.

‘You know, old women – some of them are over thirty!’

Lale smiles.

‘Look,’ says the original volunteer, ‘you could stop any woman you meet in the street. We all know what you want, and there are plenty of us who need good food and drink even if we have to share it with those ugly Russian pigs. There are no men left here to help us. We do what we have to.’

‘As do I,’ Lale tells them. ‘Thank you all very much. I’ll look forward to seeing you tonight.’

Lale leaves the shop and leans against a wall, taking a breather. One shop, half the girls required. He looks to the other side of the street. Fredrich is looking at him. He gives him a thumbs-up.

Now, where’s that cafe? On his walk there Lale stops three young women, two of whom agree to come to the party. In the cafe he finds three more. He thinks they are in their low to mid-thirties, but still beautiful women anyone would want to be seen with.

That evening Lale and Fredrich pick up the women, who are all waiting at the bakery as instructed. They are elegantly dressed and made up. The agreed transaction in jewellery and cash takes place with minimal scrutiny from Fredrich.

He watches as they enter the chalet. They are holding hands, wearing resolute expressions and occasionally laughing.

‘I’ll take what’s left over,’ Fredrich says, standing close to Lale.

Lale takes several notes and a couple of pieces of jewellery from his pockets and hands them to Fredrich, who seems satisfied the transactions have been carried out correctly. Fredrich pockets the goods, then sets about patting Lale down, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

‘Hey, careful,’ says Lale. ‘I don’t know you that well!’

‘You’re not my type.’

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