Night Angels(58)

How could I find a good family for Eva? I didn’t know anyone in Vienna, and I was a diplomat’s wife without many options. “Lola . . .”

“Only you can help me, Grace.”

“But . . .”

The line went dead.

I took the elevator upstairs. In the storage room that I had arranged for Eva, she was sitting on a cushion, reading the Dickinson book I’d given her. For a moment, I thought she looked like my childhood self, alone, immersed in the wilderness of a poet’s whims.

“She’s my favorite. Do you like her poetry?” I sat by her. I had used poetry to teach her English. Eva was a fast learner; her English improved quickly. “Look at this: ‘I’ll tell you how the Sun rose—A Ribbon at a time—’”

“It’s pretty.”

“It is.” I had dreamed of becoming a poet, too; instead, I became a diplomat’s wife.

“Is she famous?”

“Not really.”

“Is she beautiful?”

“I imagine so.”

“You’re beautiful, Tante Grace.”

I didn’t know what to say. When I was her age, people called me “a strange-looking child,” and Mother, of course, never said I was beautiful. I was surprised when Fengshan praised my beauty, my Asian eyes, and my delicate facial features. Now this, from a child. I had an urge to smooth her hair and touch her cheek. She didn’t know, of course, that she was, absolutely, the most beautiful angel I had ever laid my eyes on.

Lola was right. I could protect her; I must.





CHAPTER 38


FENGSHAN


Grace paced his office and asked if he could help. He wished he had an answer for her. But Lola was Eva’s blood relative, her only guardian. The only option for them was to go to Shanghai together. The ocean liners would return next year, and more tickets would be available. But he was also aware that, with so many people desperate to leave, boat tickets would be a challenge to obtain.

“There must be something you can do, my love.”

“We’ll see, Grace.” He carefully set the visa he had just signed on top of the stack of completed documents. The matter about Eva was most urgent, he could see. The child couldn’t stay in the consulate for long. He could find Eva a new home, a family who could take her.

He dialed Dr. L?wenherz’s phone number. Since he received visas for his own family, Dr. L?wenherz had brought more people to the consulate for visas. The phone rang, but it was never picked up.



He called Dr. L?wenherz again two days later, and the doctor answered in a deep, gruff, tired voice. When Fengshan explained the reason for his call, Dr. L?wenherz sighed. His organization was under unprecedented duress, as many members faced death threats, and many more were beaten, arrested after the Kristallnacht. Some had fled for their lives. The organization had no resources or staffing to shelter the young; besides, he was scheduled to depart the country himself tomorrow.

When Fengshan asked what other charities and organizations he could recommend trying, the doctor replied that the international charities and Zionist organizations in Austria and Germany had been prohibited from operating months ago. All the groups had been disbanded; his organization, the Israelitische Kultusgemeinde Wien, was the only one permitted to run in Vienna.



A few days later, Fengshan, at his wit’s end, asked Captain Heine about how to find protection for Lola’s niece when they met in the coffeehouse in the Hotel Sacher.

“You won’t have luck with any organizations, Herr Consul General. As you know, since the Anschluss, all Jewish organizations have been prohibited from operating. Even the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, which tried to assist Jews, was ordered to cease functioning.” Captain Heine sat on a red velvet cushion, a glass of cognac in hand.

Fengshan had a sip of his bitter black ersatz coffee.

“Cheer up, Herr Consul General. It’s the holiday season.”

The coffeehouse, decorated with festive holiday lights, was filled with people, non-Jewish, Fengshan believed. Several wore black uniforms, and Brahms’s “Wiegenlied” was in the air. He gave a dramatic sweep of his arm. “Isn’t it ironic that this is a season of joy? What was your order on November ninth?”

Captain Heine looked away. “It wasn’t the proudest day of my life. It was an order. And I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve begun to wonder, what if my father had not been a military man? I would not be a policeman. I don’t even like being a policeman. I only like three things: cognac, women, and cards.”

Fengshan leaned closer. “Then help me, Captain Heine.”

He downed his glass of cognac. “Have you tried to contact the German Quakers?”

He was aware of the Quakers in the US, as Grace had once mentioned them, but not German Quakers. “Enlighten me.”

“Well, the Quakers provided generous aid to the Germans after the Great War; as a result, they’ve made many friends in this country. Some are officials among the Nazis. You might have luck asking them.” He’d had too much to drink; his voice was slurred, and his eyes were searching among the patrons for pretty women. At last, his gaze fell on a woman wearing a red cap.

“Captain Heine?”

The captain pulled his gaze back to Fengshan. “Pardon me.”