‘You were arrested, I seem to remember,’ Konrad stated.
‘On charges of forming a terrorist organization with the purpose of killing Dietrich and the other Reich Gauleiters,’ Ziegler added bitterly. ‘I was supposedly in the pay of Bolshevik agents plotting to bring revolution to Germany. Still, perhaps I should have been grateful to my opponent. Dietrich could have, if he had so wished, woken me up in the middle of the night and had me executed in the cells of Prinz Albrechtstrasse. The public would have been none the wiser. However, I was to enjoy the dubious honour of having a show-trial at the People’s Court where countless witnesses queued up to denounce me. I can still remember my fellow colleagues who I’d know since I was child taking the stand and swearing to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth on a copy of Mein Kampf, and then hurling insults at me or going along with the lies. What hurt me most was that not one of them had the courage to look me in the eye as they parroted the same nonsense.’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Zeigler, but I’ve very little sympathy for you at this moment. I too had to endure similar lies. I too fell from grace. Maybe not as spectacularly as you, but we all felt the wrath of the Party,’ Konrad said.
‘That is true. But I will still curse our beloved Führer to my dying breath,’ Zeigler said bitterly.
‘Wouldn’t you have done exactly the same if you were in his place too?’ Konrad asked with a wry smile.
‘No, you’re wrong,’ Ziegler smiled. ‘If I did become Führer I would have lined Dietrich up against a wall and shot him the first chance I got.’
Konrad continued to wash himself down next to his new companion, but he still found it hard to believe that he stood next to a man who once wielded so much power, in fact, a man, if circumstances had been different, who could have been king. But these thoughts were put to one side as a new group of disorientated prisoners were herded into the wash-room.
At that instant, Konrad stopped and froze like a statue standing in the water. Amongst the prisoners, like a beacon of beauty amongst the sea of ugliness, was the woman from his dreams.
For a moment, Konrad thought he must have still been in that dream-world populated by his old friend, the grotesque courtesans and the hellish tower. During the confusion he expected the shower to disappear to reveal that beautiful alpine landscape to stretch out before him, but the interior of the vessel remained in place. This was no dream. The exactness of detail was frightening. Like the voice from his dream, the woman had manifested into reality. The fear stemmed from the fact that if the voice had found a human form in the SS officer and now the woman, what else would appear?
‘What’s the matter, Konrad?’ Ziegler asked as he noticed his state of confusion. ‘It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘Perhaps I have,’ Konrad muttered.
The enigmatic woman entered the showers nearby and washed the congealed slime from her cropped hair, her thin face and from her body. Her actions were mundane, but to Konrad, they were highly erotic as her hands lingered upon her breasts, her legs, her hair. The tingle of excitement that coursed through Konrad as he watched finally shattered and swept away the remnants of his fear. He was close enough to reach out and touch her.
It was almost inevitable that this mysterious woman was Elsa.
Suddenly Konrad was pushed out of the way. And the culprit was also someone terribly familiar to him – Brutus.
‘Come on you lot,’ the Kapo cried. ‘Finish washing your dicks and get dried.’
Upon hearing the dreaded Kapo’s order, Konrad and other male prisoners obeyed and left the showers. A series of benches were arranged in an alcove. Konrad grabbed a large towel, but when he looked back he saw Brutus approaching the unsuspecting Elsa. He grabbed Elsa by the hair and pressed himself up against her exposed back. With a lecherous bellow, his large, bear-like hands groped clumsily over her breasts, his fingers pinching painfully at her flesh.
‘I like you,’ he slobbered. ‘I like you a lot. I want to be your friend. Do you want to be my friend too?’
Elsa struggled as Brutus maintained his grip and pulled her deeper into the clouds of steam.
Konrad paused as he watched the sexual assault. His eyes darted toward the shower and Brutus’ grunts. He flung the wet towel away and stepped forward to help, but the restraining hand of Ziegler held him back.
‘Have you got a death wish or something? Don’t ever get between a dog and its bone,’ Ziegler advised.
‘I can’t just stand here and let him do what he wants with that girl,’ Konrad said with an impressive note of indignation.
‘Why not? The female prisoner has nothing to do with you, does she?’
Konrad hesitated, unsure as to how to answer this question posed by Ziegler. ‘No, but I should do something.’
‘Are you mad! Brutus will kill you.’ Ziegler’s grip became even stronger around Konrad’s arm. ‘Haven’t you learnt anything since you were imprisoned?’
Konrad started to prise Ziegler’s fingers off.
‘Do nothing,’ Ziegler hissed, but his words fell on deaf ears as Konrad shrugged him off.
Deep within the shower, Brutus continued his assault upon Elsa. His muscular hands now lingered painfully between Elsa’s legs. The Kapo, like so many others in the prison, had been denied the comfort of the opposite sex. Even Brutus, despite being so vital to his Nazi masters and being rewarded with extra food and power, was never allowed to enter the fabled fraüenblock, and so all his frustrations, all his pent-up lust would be released by this prisoner’s body. Elsa, for her part, kept her eyes firmly closed as the animal clung to her body. She was used to drunken fondles and slobbering kisses from drunken Nazis, but this assault was different. Sleeping with the Nazis was expected if she was to survive, but not here. Also, it was so public, so open and so blatant. Even though her eyes were closed and she could smell the prisoner’s hot, stinking breath and his demonic voice in her ears, she could still sense the eyes of the other prisoners upon her who stood by and watched. The silence made Elsa wonder if they too were enjoying this violent, impromptu sex display?
Then as suddenly as it began, the attack appeared to be over. The strong arms no longer entwined her and she was free. Elsa opened her eyes and saw the reason why her ordeal was at an end. Two prisoners were grappling with one another. They rolled and splashed across the wet floor in front of her. One was Brutus, the other was Konrad. Brutus, his fist balled like a hammer, punched Konrad in the face over and over again, but the blows failed to quell Konrad’s protest. Instead, the smaller prisoner tried to fight Brutus off by grabbing at his throat and clawing at his face, his efforts weak and ineffectual compared to the brute force exhibited by his opponent, nevertheless, Konrad continued to resist.
‘Keep your hands off her!’ he repeated over and over again.
Brutus smiled wolfishly. ‘Are you jealous that I managed to get my hands on the pussy before you?’
Konrad continued his mantra, but he was met with yet another punch which left him sprawled on the floor. Then, with a bloody-mindedness that verged upon madness, he continued to mutter his mantra through his blood-stained teeth as Brutus reclaimed his spoils.
‘Make yourself comfortable and watch the fun!’ he said to Konrad as he slipped a finger into Elsa’s mouth. She took the hint and started to suck. Brutus obviously enjoyed the sensation to such an extent that he closed his eyes. At this point, Elsa’s own eyes shot open and turned towards Konrad. She then gave the beaten prisoner a mischievous wink as she then bit down into Brutus’s finger. Blood spurted from Elsa’s mouth as her teeth sliced through the flesh and bone. Brutus staggered backwards, clutching the crimson stump, a scream of pain emitting from his lips. Free from the bully, she then spat out the chunk of meat, which splattered messily between Konrad’s legs.