To a fate worse than death, I thought. Aliz was right about that. I said, "What did the Lageralteste do after he exited the warehouse where Franz was?”
"He left. Walked straight out. And he was laughing. He had the most horrible laugh."
"How often does he come to Kanada?”
"I’d never seen him before, and not since. I was told he hadn’t been here for months before that day.”
Which led me to one conclusion: The Lageralteste had come to Kanada to see Franz. He knew where he would be, at which warehouse. Someone had told him. Someone who could get Franz into that warehouse and keep him there until the Lageralteste arrived.
The Lageralteste could have seen Franz in the men’s camp, of course. Could have been led to him there. But someone wanted it to be done in Kanada. I had a pretty good idea who it was, and why he had done so.
"Aliz, was Ludwig in the warehouse with Franz when the Lageralteste arrived?"
"Yes," she said. "Why?"
"I saw you two together yesterday. You and Ludwig. You seemed pretty intimate."
Her face reddened. “That means nothing to me. Nothing. I love Franz. Only Franz.”
"I don’t doubt it. Seeing you and Ludwig, it was clear to me he feels more for you than you do for him."
"It’s not easy living here,” she said. "Surviving. I have two sisters who work in other kommandos. Ludwig gives me food, which I take to them. I do what I must. For them. Do you understand?"
I nodded. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Aliz. Nothing at all. I just need to know how soon after Franz was gone your relationship with Ludwig began."
Her beautiful eyes were large circles now. Perhaps she was beginning to suspect what I was almost certain of. “Very soon," she said in a quiet voice. "Two days at most. Ludwig made his feelings known to me and said he would take care of me, that he'd bring me food I could take to my sisters. All I needed to do was give him what he wanted."
Gisella looked horrified. She too had understood. “Adam, you don’t think that Ludwig—”
"I'm not sure of anything right now," I said, though of course I was. Right then, I wanted to hear what Aliz had to say.
"Franz wanted no contact with me," Aliz said in a voice that was dreamy and disbelieving. One hand was pressed to her throat. Confusion and horror stormed in her eyes. “Ludwig saw Franz in the men’s camp and told me that was what Franz had said. That I should forget about him. That he and I were finished." Her mouth tightened. "That bastard."
"Listen to me, Aliz,” I said. “You mustn’t say anything to Ludwig. Nothing about me, and nothing about what we’ve just talked about. You need to act as though nothing has changed. It's important. Can you do that, Aliz?”
She nodded. “Oh yes. I’ve been acting with him for a while now. I can do it for a little longer. But only for a little."
"That's all you need to do,” I said. "Just until the end of the day. Then it will be over. I’ll see to that."
32
The afternoon dragged on. Another train arrived, and more innocent people entered the crematoriums and left as smoke and ashes. There was no wind, and the smoke lingered in the sky above Kanada like a bad omen. The air smelled charred and malignant.
At one point, I saw Ludwig slip into a warehouse only to emerge from it shortly after, followed by Aliz. Another tryst among the loot. Another grope and unwanted kiss, and hopefully nothing more. I prayed Aliz would have the strength to act her part.
I did not find any medicine, but a quick sifting through a suitcase yielded a box of hard sweets, each wrapped in flimsy paper and smelling like a tiny piece of paradise. The taste of sugar was so sharp, my breath caught in my throat. My tongue had forgotten the taste and was shocked by it.
Stefan grinned. “Like something you’ve never tasted before, huh?"
"Yeah,” I said. “It’s been a long time.”
Again, I kept half of the sweets for Vilmos, stashing them in the tip of my clogs. But this time, my precaution proved unnecessary, for I was let out of Kanada without being searched.
I kept my eyes on Ludwig as we walked the short distance back to the men’s camp. There was a spring in his step, and why wouldn’t there be? He was a man in possession of the woman he loved. Had he fooled himself completely? Come to believe that she truly loved him back? Or did he hope she would grow to love him, now that Franz was out of the picture? Either way, it was clear Aliz had kept up the pretense. Ludwig had no idea that she knew what he’d done. Or that I knew it, too.
When the Kapo wasn’t looking, I sidled up to Ludwig and murmured in his ear, “I know, Ludwig."
His eyebrows knotted. “Know what?"
"Everything. I know about Aliz. And about Franz.”
His face lost its color, and he nearly tripped over his own feet. I grabbed his forearm and steadied him.
"Meet me after dinner at the ditch behind the latrines," I said. "You know the place. It’s where Franz died. And don’t keep me waiting, understand?"
He gulped and nodded. I let go of his arm and nudged him ahead of me. He turned once to look at me, fear etched all over his face.
This should have been a moment of triumph, of surpassing relief, but instead I was gnawed on the inside by worry. Was Vilmos still alive?
My heart was pounding as we entered the camp. I hurried to the meeting place, and only realized how certain I’d been that Vilmos was dead when my pent-up breath escaped my lungs upon seeing him.
He was sitting on the ground, head buried in his hands. A picture of exhaustion. Yet before I could call out his name, he raised his eyes and stood. His face was dripping with perspiration, but he was smiling. At my frown, he grabbed my hand and pressed it to his forehead. It was damp and cool. The fever had broken.
"How?” was all I could say.
"I told you there is always hope, Adam. Never forget that."
As we did yesterday, we found a secluded spot, and there I gave him the sweets I had smuggled for him. He put one in his mouth and, leaning his head against the side of a block, closed his eyes and let the candy melt on his tongue. He looked utterly serene, as though the sweet had transported him to another place.
"Kanada is truly a place of wonders,” he said after he opened his eyes.
"And of horrors," I replied, remembering the people I’d seen being herded into the crematorium.
Vilmos understood what I was referring to. "Yes. Of horrors too. But tell me, what about the case? Have you made any progress?"
"I’ve solved it, Vilmos.”
His face lit up. "Good job. Who did it?"
I was about to answer when the gong for roll call sounded.
"Will you be okay on your own after roll call?” I asked, as we hurried to the Appellplatz. "I have some business to attend to."
"I won’t be on my own," Vilmos said. “I’m to meet Zoltan."
"Good. But don’t come to the ditch behind the latrines."
He frowned at me, but didn’t ask for a reason.
After roll call, we stood in line for dinner. Vilmos wanted to know the identity of the killer, but we were surrounded by prisoners and couldn’t speak.
When I got my bread, I pushed the entire portion into Vilmos's hand. I couldn’t eat. My stomach was seething with excitement and anger.