"We have arrived, sir."
The driver's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Outside, the imposing facade of Bethnal Green Police Station loomed, a monolith in South London's landscape.
With a nod, Hans exited the vehicle and strode into the station. Inside, a uniformed officer, adorned with the insignia of the Nazi regime, awaited him.
"Good morning, Sturmbannführer. Welcome," the officer greeted.
"Guten Morgen. Your name?" Hans inquired.
"SS-Sturmbannführer Wilhelm Pfister, representing the Reich Main Security Office. The case of Willibald Schallert, charged with treason and foreign collusion, has been escalated to SD-Inland for national security concerns. You, Sturmbannführer Hans Kranken, are to return to the Reich and resume your prior duties."
Hans studied the man before him, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. "Documentation?"
Pfister extended a letter. "From the Reich Main Security Office."
The letter bore the seal of Heinrich Himmler, head of the Grossdeutschland SS. Hans's breath hitched; the reality seemed surreal.
"The SD-Inland will now oversee the investigation. Is the evidence compiled?" Hans asked.
"Indeed." Pfister presented a hefty file, its contents brimming with photographs, including one of Schallert with Lily Merton in a living room.
"Tomorrow, the prisoners will be transferred to SD-Inland," Hans declared, securing the file within his coat. As he approached the exit, he paused, turning to Pfister. "You've had no prior contact with Schallert?"
"None whatsoever, sir."
"Very well."
——
As Willibald Schallert and Lily Merton were escorted from the car to the interrogation room, Hans retreated to his office. The door closed with a soft thud, and the heavy curtains enveloped the room in a cocoon of secrecy. His heart raced as he withdrew the file from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. The flicker of a match ignited the tip of a cigarette, its smoke curling upward like a silent question mark. What enigma had prompted Heinrich Himmler, the Reichsführer of the Grossdeutschland SS, to personally correspond with him?
The folder lay open, revealing a photograph of Willibald Schallert engaged in conversation with a foreigner. The man wore a crisp white suit, an emblem of Western elegance. His mustache lent an air of intrigue. Another image captured Willibald Schallert and Lily Merton strolling down a sun-drenched street, their shadows merging—a clandestine pas de deux.
But it was the next photograph that held Hans's gaze. Lily Merton and Willibald Schallert, locked in an intimate embrace. The image blurred, as if veiled by time, yet Hans discerned the contours of youth—the delicate curve of Lily's cheek, the slender frame of Schallert. Artwork adorned the subsequent pages, juxtaposing women's faces with enigmatic symbols.
Hans's decision crystallized. Willibald Schallert's fate was sealed. Folders snapped shut, and he strode purposefully toward Lily Merton's interrogation room, just across the dimly lit corridor. Inside, the young woman sat, tearful and vulnerable. Her eyes met Hans's, pleading for mercy. He leaned in, voice gentle, "Fear not. Tonight, I shall unravel the mystery alone. The hull shall be surrendered tomorrow." The room absorbed his words, and the weight of secrets settled upon them both.
Hans Kranken settled into the chair across from Lily, his gaze steady. "Hallo," he began, "my name is Hans Kranken. Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department. I'm here to ask you a few questions."
Lily leaned forward, her expression guarded. "All right, what do you want to know?"
"You're English, correct?" Hans placed a folder on the table, lifting her ID card and internal passport. "Or Anglo-Saxon? Such a good girl, what a shame."
Her eyes narrowed. "What? I'm a pure-blooded German. Born and raised here. My family—"
"—has the last name Merton," Hans interrupted. "Curious, isn't it? You, a German, entangled with Willibald Schallert—a man born in 1896.4.2, while your birthdate reads 1940."
Lily's cheeks flushed. "It just happened. I met him, fell in love. Age doesn't matter. He's good to me."
Hans studied her—blond hair, piercing eyes. "And you're blind to his criminal record?"
"He's not a criminal," Lily insisted. "He loves me."
Hans produced a faded document. "Your 1955 identity card application in South London. You didn't speak German then—or now. Willibald submitted it for you. Why?"
Lily hesitated. "I was a child. He promised to care for me. He was a good man."
Lily sat across from Hans, her fingers tracing the rim of the teacup. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with tension. She had come seeking answers, but the truth was more elusive than she had anticipated.
"Interesting," Hans mused, leaning back in his chair. "Where were you before 1955? Why didn't you have any family members?"
His question hung in the air, and Lily hesitated. The memories were fragments, like shards of glass scattered across her mind. "No, I don't remember," she replied softly. "I was in a car accident. I was a baby, and I lost my memory. I don't remember anything."
Hans raised an eyebrow. "I see. You had a car accident, and your family is dead." His gaze bore into hers. "Then Willibald inexplicably helped a 15-year-old orphan get an identity card and a house in South London. Willibald is a philanthropist?"
Lily shifted uncomfortably. "No, no, it's not like that. I can't explain it, and I can't remember it. I'm sorry, I can't help you."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Hans said gently. He reached into a worn leather folder and pulled out a stack of faded photographs and ID cards. "Come, look at this."
Lily's eyes widened as she studied the faces in the photographs. Young girls, like her, their eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. "Willibald helped a dozen girls like you apply for ID cards from 1950 to 1955," Hans continued. "All of them had no family members, and all claimed that they were full-blooded Germans or at least honorary Aryans."
Lily's breath caught. "And where are they now?"
Hans leaned in, his voice low. "They're all dead. Within three months of getting their ID cards. Some were found hanging in their rooms, some shot, others drowned. One girl had a knife stuck in her chest." He paused. "I think there must be a connection, don't you think so?"
Lily's mind raced. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to be part of this dark puzzle. But the truth was closing in, and she had no choice but to face it.
"I... No, I don't know anything about it," she whispered, her heart pounding.
The room seemed to close in on her, and Lily wondered if she, too, would become another nameless girl lost in the shadows of history. The weight of the past pressed down, and she realized that sometimes forgetting was a blessing, even if it meant living in ignorance. But ignorance, she knew, could be a dangerous luxury—one that she could no longer afford.
"Why? Those women are all Eastern European Poles." Hans took out a photo from his document bag and put it on the table. "Look at this photo, it's from 1950. It's a photo of an innocent ten-year-old girl with her family in Gibraltar. What's interesting is that the family were Polish Jews who fled to England." Hans turned the photo around. There were names and signatures on the back. "It's not a forgery, is it?"
"I... No, I'm sorry. I don't know anything about it. Please believe me, I didn't know about this."
"But you knew. You knew what Willibald was doing. You knew what he was up to, didn't you? He's a criminal, and he's a traitor." Hans crossed his arms. "The reason why a veteran member of our party became a traitor is because he has been demanding bribes since he was the head of the Hamburg office of the Labor Program for Jews and Gypsies. Sometimes it was money, and sometimes it was flesh and blood."
"I... I don't know anything about this." Lily's voice was trembling, and she was obviously nervous.
"You knew, and you accepted his help. You have an obligation to report a crime." Hans stood up and shouted. "Why is a 20-year-old girl willing to be with a 64-year-old man? Because of fear of death! After the war broke out in 1939, a Polish Jewish family fled to London. In 1940, the year the Air War over Britain broke out, they gave birth to a lovely baby They managed to escape with the girl across Greater Germany's Atlantic blockade to Gibraltar in the days before the Munich Peace Treaty of 1950, and then surprisingly they did not escape further. Why?"
"I don't know, I really don't know. Please stop this. I'm not a Pole." Lily pleaded, and her voice was trembling.
"You are a Pole. Your name is Lily Zofia Zaleska. Your father is Henryk and your mother is Anna." Hans pulled out another photo and threw it on the table. "Look, the girl you pretended to be, Lily Merton, was from England, but she has now died in the Great Famine in England."
Lily's face paled and her whole body began to tremble. Her legs were shaking, and her hands were trembling. Her whole body was shaking, and her breathing was rapid and shallow.
"Do you know how the girls who died in front of you found out? The hot water washed away the blond hair they dyed in the hair salon, and the records of plastic surgery to make the hooked nose disappear are also easy to find. As for the blue eyes, it's too obvious. What are you doing in South London? What is the purpose of you pretending to be a German girl and seducing a high-ranking party official? Are you a spy?"
"No, no, no, please believe me. I'm a pure-blooded German. Please believe me." Lily Merton's voice was trembling. Her whole body was shaking. She could not sit still, and she wanted to stand up, but the handcuffs on her wrists made her unable to.
"Lying is useless. Your family, including your brother, is dead. We have confirmed it."
"No, I can't, I don't believe you, I don't believe you!" Lily Merton was trembling, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"Don't worry, this is the era of Führer Goering. SS-Totenkopfverbände has been disbanded. You will be transferred to SD-Inland, the 3rd Department of the Ministry of State Security, or the counterintelligence department."
Lily Merton stared at Hans, and her eyes were filled with hatred and anger. "Fuck you, Nazi dog. I will kill you."
"Yes, yes. We are the evil Nazi dogs." Hans stood up. "That's all for today."
Lily Merton's body stopped shaking. She was crying.
"What is the relationship between the two of you?" Hans put the folder back into his inner pocket. "Are you his accomplice, or are you his tool?"
"I'm not a spy. I'm a good German girl. Please, please, don't send me away." Lily Merton knelt down and sobbed. She was sobbing and her voice was choking.
"Don't worry, a 20-year-old German beauty will be in demand by the Germans. They will not abandon you." Hans stood before her. "I ask again, what is your relationship with him?"
"I... I don't know. I didn't know what he was doing."
"You are an idiot. If you know, then you are guilty."
"I didn't know, I swear. He promised to protect me, and I became his daughter, the kind he would sleep with. He was nice to me and treated me like his daughter. Don't Send me away."
Hans did not answer. He walked to the door and knocked on it twice. The door opened and the two criminal policemen came in. "Take her away. Make her clean and then send her to SD-Inland."
The two criminal policemen took her out. "Wait! Please, wait. I can help you. I can tell you everything. I can tell you his secrets, I can tell you everything you need to know." Hans yawned. Work is always boring. "Don't hit her, and neither does the old man. This is no ordinary case."
Hans closed the door and sat down at the table. He opened the drawer, took out a bottle of whiskey, and poured himself a glass. He took a sip and his mind began to relax. The old man was helped in by two criminal policemen, and he sat down opposite Hans.
"Why did you arrest me? You have no right to do so." Willibald Schallert spoke in a cold voice. "I have rights, You're no better than the Communists."
"You're right, you have no rights." Hans took a sip of the whiskey. "Your crimes have involved treason, smuggling, falsifying your identity and your nationality, and accepting bribes. Let's take a look at your profile."
"You bastard. Who are you? You have no right to arrest me."
"I'm Sturmbannführer Hans Kranken."
"I want a lawyer."
Hans ignored his nonsense and took out a stack of files in a folder. "Willibald Schallert (2. April 1896 in Charlottenburg) war der Leiter des Arbeitseinsatzes für Juden in Hamburg zwischen 1940 und 1945. Sie waren verantwortlich für die Arbeit des jüdischen Durchmigranten."
"Whoreson." Willibald Schallert spit and his eyes were full of hate.
"Schalert volunteered for military service in the Imperial Navy during the First World War and then fought in the Freikorps in the Baltic States. Between 1930 and 1933 he was unemployed, but became a Sturmbannführer and from 1930 He has been a member of the SA since. He also became a member of the National Socialist Party of Germany, membership number 341,597."
"What does that have to do with me?" Willibald Schallert snorted coldly. "That was the past, and the past is dead."
"You should have learned your lesson from the past. If you had integrity, loyalty, and integrity, you wouldn't be here right now." Hans lit a cigarette and took a sip of his whiskey. "You are an old party member, let us see what your subsequent experience was. As an old soldier without any administrative experience, Schallert found a clerk's position in the employment office in Altona after 1933. In 1939 he was drafted into the Army for six months and returned to work in the Employment Office in January 1940."
"So what?"
"In January 1940, the employment office in Altona was disbanded. On the recommendation of a local NSDAP, you were sent to Hamburg to work in the employment office. From January 1940, he organized the forced labor and immigration of Hamburg's Jewish residents from an outsourced office. He ultimately has power over all men aged 14 to 65 and women aged 15 to 55 who need a job. Schallert used bribes to recklessly profit from victims who relied on his favors and used extortion to commit sexual violence against women."
"You are making a great mistake. I'm not a criminal. I've done nothing wrong." Willibald Schallert slammed his fist on the table and pointed at Hans. "You have no right to arrest me."
"Shut up! Let's continue looking at the resume, shall we?" Hans opened the folder and picked up the resume. "After the Munich Peace Treaty of 1950, Schallert returned to civilian life. Since then, he has been a director of the labor program for Gypsies and Jews in Hamburg. "After the start of the Eastern General Plan in 1945, he has been the head of the Polish labor plan in Danzig, responsible for allocating jobs and locations to 20,000 Polish immigrants every year. After the signing of the Munich Peace Treaty in 1950, Schalet returned to civilian life life. After this, tell us about your current activities."
"I have already retired."
"I am sorry, that is not the case. You are the head of the Greater Deutschland-Polnischen Trade Promotion Organization, an organization set up by a number of companies in the General District of Polnischen. What are you doing?"
"Nothing, it's a trade promotion organization, and my job is to help our people in Poland promote their products. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Oh, is that all?" Hans put down the file and whiskey, then took out a stack of photos from the file bag. "Explain, who are these women?"
"Who? I don't know." Willibald Schallert looked at Hans with a sneer on his face.
"Is this not you?" Hans pulled out a photo and placed it on the table. It was a photo of Willibald Schalet, with his left arm around the waist of a blonde woman.
"Well, I've never seen this girl before. She must have mistaken me for someone else."
"What about that photo? This skinny Lily Zofia Zaleska looks the same as your fat Lily Merton."
"That's not true. Lily Merton is my adopted daughter. She was an orphan, and I'm taking care of her. That woman is not her. She's a total stranger."
"Oh, I see. This is your South London identity card application form for Lily Merton. This is Lily Merton's 1948 death certificate from the Kingdom of England. Please tell me how a man who died in the Great Famine in England in 1948 is now in my police station?" Hans took out two pieces of paper from the document bag. "It's a fake. It's a fake. I've been deceived."
"You're crazy. I've never heard of such a thing."
"All right, all right, so you are a retired veteran who is helping our people promote Polish products." Hans stood up and took the whiskey. "Then you helped an unrelated English girl apply for an identity card and a bungalow in South London. Tell me, how many girls have you helped in this way?"
"None, just one."
"Lying is useless, you will be handed over to SD-Inland tomorrow." Hans poured himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip. "If you cooperate, I can reduce the severity of your punishment."
"This is a big mistake. I have committed no crime. I am an honest businessman."
"Your case has been transferred to SD-Inland. This is a crime of treason and espionage, not a crime of racial contamination. An old party member, comrade, being with a Polish Jewish girl is the most likely to go to jail for racial contamination, but it is treason."
"You are insane. You are accusing me of being a traitor." Willibald Schallert raised his head and laughed. "I'm a veteran party member. I am an old member of the SA and a long-standing member of the NSDAP. I'm the head of the Polnischen Trade Promotion Organization."
"You are a traitor and an enemy of the Greater Germany. You have a lot of blood on your hands. There is no such thing as an old party member or a veteran of the SA."
"You are lying. I am a veteran party member and a veteran of the SA." Willibald Schallert stared at Hans. His eyes were full of hatred. "I joined the party before the NSDAP was even established."
Hans put down his whiskey and stared at the old man. "You can meet SD-Inland tomorrow and tell me, who wants you to die?"
"You can go to hell, you fucking swine. You have no right to arrest me."
"Old party member, guess who gave the order to transfer the case to SD-Inland?" Hans walked back to the table. "Want a bottle of whiskey?"
"I don't drink."
Hans smiled and poured himself a glass. "Heinrich Luitpold Himmler."
"Reichsführer Himmler? Impossible." Willibald Schallert frowned.
"You can believe it or not, but he was the one who ordered you to be transferred to SD-Inland. So, what exactly did you do? Why did the SS Reichsführer want to kill you? Just because you're greedy for some art, money and dozens of Polish girls?"
"No, I have never been in contact with Heinrich Luitpold Himmler!"
"I see, I didn't expect the old party member, the veteran, to be so naive." The old man began to breathe rapidly and think, while Hans focused on tasting the whiskey. "The Reichsführer Himmler will soon send someone from the Ministry of State Security to take you away, and you will be taken away to the interrogation room."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. I'll talk. I'll talk." Willibald Schallert lowered his voice. "It's the Americans, the American government."
"I see, the American government, not the British."
"They gave me a large sum of money and promised me that if I went to Ireland and asked for political asylum at the U.S. Embassy, they would pay me an annual salary."
"I understand, you are an old party member, a veteran of the SA and the NSDAP. Why did the Americans ask you to leave?"
"Because I have a lot of connections, and I have a lot of information." Willibald Schallert was no longer arrogant, and the old man had aged ten years. "What do you think of the Jew and Gypsy labor plan, post-war brat?"
"Interesting."
"I've seen too many things, and I've done too much. I'm getting old, and I'm tired."
"I see, so what are the requirements of the American government?" Hans poured another glass of whiskey. "What was the value of the Jewish and Gypsy labor program? What I remember was just forced migration and labor, like the Jewish Bolsheviks in Eastern Europe?"
"No, no." Willibald Schallert smiled, revealing his yellowed and decaying teeth. "We've got it, all of them."
"What do you mean, you've got it?"
"There is a lot of money and there is a lot of profit." Willibald Schallert grinned and revealed his yellow and rotten teeth. "I'll tell you everything, and I'll give you everything."
"Okay, talk."
"I've made a fortune selling people. What do you think of the Polish Jewish girl? I found it in Gibraltar, short and skinny. Although she has gained weight, she is very thin. She can be dressed in any clothes and make any moves by me. She is the history of being dressed up randomly by everyone, the history of no one caring about her, and being used by thieves and butchers. What do you think of the Jew and Gypsy labor program? I can tell you, the price is cheap and the demand is huge."
"So what's the next step?" Hans lit a cigarette and poured another glass of whiskey. "The Polish women were brought to the port, and then they were sent to the ships?"
"Of course not, how do you think our party handles so many people? The Jews, Gypsies, and other minorities are not the kind of people we care about. They are the lowest of the low. We can just get rid of them directly."
"What are you trying to say?" Hans put down his glass. "Didn't the Jews disappear because of the great plague in prisons?"
"Of course not, don't be a fool."
"Where did they go?"
"We've always done this. If there are too many, we'll kill them and send their bodies to the furnace. This is a common practice, and there's nothing wrong with it."
"That's a crime!"
"Crime? Do you think forced migration and mass incarceration were invented by NSDAP? They were all crimes, and we were all criminals."
"How dare you say that. You are a German, a party member and a veteran."
"Don't make a fool of yourself. The Polish Piłsudski government came to build concentration camps for Jewish Bolshevik prisoners of war during the Polish-Soviet War! The Ottoman Empire forcibly relocated and massacred 1.5 million Armenians in 1915! Yes, and the British, who created this thing called concentration camps in the Boer War, and then killed how many white Boers to create white South Africa? ! How many Indian scalps did the Americans cut off during their westward expansion to build the West Coast? ! What qualifications do they have to accuse us? What is the difference between our Generalplan Ost and the American Westward Expansion Movement? Why should we be accused of being anti-human when we are a century later than them?"
"That's not true. Your plan is evil, and the Nazis are an evil regime."
"Do you think the British, the French, the Americans, the Russians, and the Poles are all good? No nation's territory and motherland are based on morality and law. Either we conquer others, or vice versa. Only cowards and fools will think that peace is eternal, and those who lose in war have no value, and their language and culture will disappear! Those who don't want to go to war have no right to accuse others."
"Stop talking."
"I'm an old man, and I can die at any time. They were going to make me disappear like those girls into something that never existed, just like they were tearing down the walls of every concentration camp."
"I told you, shut up." Hans's voice silenced the hysterical old man. He had lost control and was ranting. "Just answer my question. Tell me where the Polish girls are."
"They're here, in the basement of the headquarters of the Greater Germany-Polnischen Trade Promotion Organization in the Old Town in Danzig. We're holding a charity banquet there. It's the best place to hide a tree. It's the best way to hide a tree."
"Charity dinner, charity dinner."
"Yes, the organization's annual charity banquet. Please give me a bottle of wine, I'm dead, you can ask whatever you want." Willibald Schalet grabbed the whiskey and took a few sips. "I don't know if I'm an SS member or a party member. I don't even know if the world is real."
"What are you talking about? Tell me the specific location of the charity banquet." Hans pulled a piece of paper from the drawer. "No, write it down, and all the concentration camps you know about."
"I'm thirsty." Willibald Schalet put down the glass and took the pen and paper. He began writing quickly, and his handwriting was messy. "I'm afraid."
"You have committed a serious crime. You are a criminal, and you will pay for your crimes. Write quickly, and tell me what else you know. I will record it in the file, and I will hand it over to the SD." Hans stared at him as he wrote. "Tell me, what is the purpose of NSDAP building concentration camps?"
"Forced migration, and mass incarceration, the purpose is forced migration, and mass incarceration. The original plan was to force migrate 30 million Poles and 6 million Jews to the East." Willibald Schalet finished the letter and gave the pen to Hans.
Hans put the letter and pen in the file. "I'm a little puzzled, why did the Nazi party establish a concentration camp system?"
"For power. The National Socialist Party used ultra-nationalism to come to power and needed anti-Semitism to gain support while robbing Jewish wealth and forced labor. But the Führer was not an anti-Semite."
"The Führer, Goering, is a Jew."
"The Führer is not an anti-Semite. That's all you need to know." Willibald Schalet picked up the whiskey again and took a few sips. "I'm talking about the former Führer Adolf. From 1933 to 1941, Jewish wealth was looted, but the organized murder of all Jews was not made a state policy. The original plan was to herd Jews into concentration camps for protective incarceration , and then deported to Madagascar."
"So, why was there a change in the 1942 plan?"
"Because of the war. When the Great Famine started, the NSDAP was preparing to carry out the General Plan Ost. They were unwilling to allow 6 million Jews to consume food, social Darwinism thinking. You know what's the funniest thing? None of the senior NSDAP officials or their relatives or friends died in the concentration camps. Not a single one."
"Are you joking?"
"I'm not. German Air Force General Helmuth Wilberg, Austrian Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe, as well as Hitler's mother's Jewish doctor and Hitler's Jewish superiors in World War I, either fled abroad, or become an honorary Aryan."
"That can't be true."
"It is true. It's just that you, and the other party members, have been fed with the lies of the NSDAP." Willibald Schalet sat down and poured himself another glass. "When I joined the SA, they told us to hate the Jews. I don't understand, I've never seen a Jew. They also taught us that we must obey the Führer and the NSDAP, and they are our teachers. The Führer and the NSDAP have the truth, and they are the truth, and all of us are liars. I believe in this and am loyal to this. Now I realize that the Führer and the NSDAP are only loyal to each other."
"This is ridiculous." Hans also sat dejectedly on the table. "Is that why you are so corrupt?"
"I was loyal and did everything they told me to do, but the Führer and the NSDAP lied. The war is not their fault. The war was inevitable, and it was not a mistake." Willibald Schallert's words were becoming more and more incoherent. "It's the fault of the English and the French. They didn't want a new German Reich, and the Führer couldn't let this happen. Americans are idiots controlled by Jewish businessmen. We massacred 6 million Jews, and they made hundreds of movies to accuse us; but we killed 40 million Soviets on the Eastern Front! The Jewish consortium in the United States only opposes the massacre of Jews, not the massacre of Arabs by Jews."
"Enough, enough." Hans stood up and knocked on the door. Two criminal policemen opened the door and took Willibald Schallert. "Send the letter and the statement to SD-Inland, and ask them to come and pick him up. Take him away."
The two criminal policemen walked away with the old man. He was already unable to walk, and he was half leaning against the wall and being pulled along. He turned his head back and stared at Hans with bloodshot eyes. "The next time you see me, it should be at the death penalty trial."