A man in agony had cried out to him. «What kind of pain?»
«I have no idea; it was only a child’s impression. You would have to have seen his eyes to understand. No matter whom he looked at, young or old, important or not, he gave that person his full concentration. I do remember that; it was not a common trait in those days. In a way, I picture Clausen more clearly than I do my own father, and certainly more than Von Tiebolt. Why are you interested in him?»
«He was my father.»
Kessler’s mouth opened in astonishment. «You?» he whispered. «Clausen’s son?»
Noel nodded. «My natural father, not the father I knew.»
«Then your mother was …» Kessler stopped.
«Althene Clausen. Did you ever hear anyone speak of her?»
«Never by name, and never in Clausen’s presence. Ever. She was spoken of in whispers. The woman who left the great man, the American enemy who fled the fatherland with their—You! You were the child she took from him!»
«Took with her, kept from him, is the way she puts it.»
«She’s still alive?»
«Very much so.»
«It’s all so incredible.» Kessler shook his head. «After all these years, a man I remember so vividly. He was extraordinary.»
«They were all extraordinary.»
«Who?»
«The three of them. Clausen, Von Tiebolt, and Kessler. Tell me, do you know how your father died?»
«He killed himself. It was not unusual then. When the Reich collapsed, a lot of people did. For most of them it was easier that way.»
«For some it was the only way.»
«Nürnberg?»
«No, Geneva. To protect Geneva.»
«I don’t understand you.»
«You will.» Holcroft opened his attaché case, took out the pages he had clipped together, and gave them to Kessler. «There’s a bank in Geneva that has an account that can be released for specific purposes only by the consent of three people…»
As he had done twice before, Noel told the story of the massive theft of over thirty years ago. But with Kessler, he told it all. He did not, as he had done with Gretchen, withhold specific facts; nor did he tell the story in stages, as he had with Helden. He left out nothing.
«… monies were intercepted from the occupied countries, from the sales of art objects and the looting of museums. Wehrmacht payrolls were rerouted, millions stolen from the Ministry of Armaments and the—I can’t remember the name, it’s in the letter—but from the industrial complex. Everything was banked in Switzerland, in Geneva, with the help of a man named Manfredi.»
«Manfredi? I remember the name.»
«It’s not surprising,» said Holcroft. «Although I don’t imagine he was mentioned too frequently. Where did you hear it?»
«I don’t know. After the war, I think.»
«From your mother?»
«I don’t think so. She died in July of ’forty-five and was in the hospital for most of the time. From someone else… I don’t know.»
«Where did you live, with your father and mother dead?»
«My brother and I moved in with our uncle, my mother’s brother. It was lucky for us. He was an older man and never had much use for the Nazis. He found favor with the occupation forces. But please, go on.»
Noel did. He detailed the conditions of competence required by the directors of La Grande Banque de Genève, which led him into the dismissal of Gretchen Beaumont. He told Kessler of the Von Tiebolts’ clouded migration to Rio, the birth of Helden, the killing of their mother, and their eventual flight from Brazil.
«They took the name of Tennyson and have been living in England for the past five years. Johann von Tiebolt is known as John Tennyson. He’s a reporter for the Guardian. Gretchen married a man named Beaumont and Helden moved several months ago to Paris. I haven’t met the brother, but I’ve … become friends with Helden. She’s a remarkable girl.»
«Is she the ‘someone else’ you were with last night?»
«Yes,» replied Holcroft. «I want to tell you about her, what she’s gone through, what she’s going through now. She and thousands like her are part of the story.»
«I think I may know,» said Kessler. «Die Verwünschte Kinder.»
«The what?»
«The Verwünschte Kinder. Verwünschung is German for a curse. Or one damned.»
«The Children of the Damned,» said Noel. «She used the expression.»
«It’s a term they gave themselves. Thousands of young people—not so young now—who fled the country because they convinced themselves they couldn’t live with the guilt of Nazi Germany. They rejected everything German, sought new identities, new life-styles. They’re very much like those hordes of young Americans who left the United States for Canada and Sweden in protest against the Vietnam policies. These groups form subcultures, but none can really reject their roots. They are German; they are American. They migrate in packs and cling together, taking strength from the very pasts they’ve rejected. The proddings of guilt are a heavy burden. Can you understand?»
«Not really,» said Holcroft. «But then, I’m not built that way. I’m not going to take on a guilt that isn’t mine.»
Kessler looked into Noel’s eyes. «I submit you may have. You say you won’t run from this covenant of yours, yet terrible things have happened to you.»
Holcroft considered the scholar’s words. «There may be some truth in that, but the circumstances are different. I didn’t leave anything. I guess I was selected.»
«Not part of the damned,» said Kessler, «but part of the chosen?»
«Privileged, anyway.»
The scholar nodded. «There’s a word for that, too. Perhaps you’ve heard of it Sonnenkinder.»
«Sonnenkinder?» Noel frowned. «If I remember, it was in one of those courses I didn’t exactly shine in. Anthropology, maybe.»
«Or philosophy,» suggested Kessler. «It’s a philosophical concept developed by Thomas J. Perry, in England in the nineteen-twenties, and before him by Bachofen, in Switzerland, and by his disciples in München. The theory being that the Sonnenkinder—the Children of the Sun—have been with us throughout the ages. They’re the shapers of history, the most brilliant among us, rulers of epochs … the privileged.»
Holcroft nodded. «I remember now. They were ruined by that privilege of theirs. They became depraved, or something. Incestuous, I think.»
«It’s only a theory,» said Kessler. «We’re straying again; you’re an easy man to talk to. You were saying about this Von Tiebolt daughter that life is difficult for her.»
«For all of them. And more than difficult. It’s crazy. They’re running all the time. They have to live like fugitives.»
«They’re easy prey for fanatics,» agreed Erich.
«Like the ODESSA and the Rache?»
«Yes. Such organizations can’t function efficiently within Germany itself; they’re not tolerated. So they operate in other countries where disaffected expatriates such as the Verwünschkinder have gravitated. They want only to stay alive and vital, waiting for the chance to return to Germany.»
«Return?»
Kessler held up his hand. «Please God, they never will, but they can’t accept that. The Rache once wanted the Bonn government to be an arm of the Comintern, but even Moscow rejected them; they’ve become nothing more than terrorists. The ODESSA have always wanted to revive Nazism. They’re scorned in Germany.»
«Still, they go after the children,» said Noel. «Helden used the phrase ‘damned for what they were, damned for what they weren’t.’»