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He limped across the vast office to the drinks tray, which had been set on a table between two long windows, returning with two glasses of schnapps.
Resuming his place behind the desk, he studied her for a moment. ‘So, you and Max…what’s going on?’
‘He let them take Clara away – I’ll never forgive him for that.’
‘I think it’s rather unfair to blame Max,’ he replied, lighting his own cigarette, and exhaling smoke out of his nostrils in two fine jets. It reminded Minki of a picture of a dragon in one of Clara’s favourite picture books.
Minki felt her anger rising, and her resolve to remain calm – and even flirtatious – melted away. ‘Unfair!’ she shouted. ‘What’s unfair is taking a child away from her mother. What’s unfair is the authorities refusing to tell me where she’s being held and not allowing me to see her.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ said Goebbels quietly. ‘You don’t want everyone to know your business.’
‘I don’t care who knows!’ she shouted, standing up and pacing the room. ‘What your government has done in taking my child – and God knows how many others – is a disgrace. My daughter has a mild illness that hardly affects her life. And for that she is deemed “useless”, surplus to requirements.’ She stopped and turned to face him, softening her tone. ‘Joseph… you must tell me where she is. If you have any love left for me at all…please, please tell me, I beg you.’
Goebbels stood up and walked round the desk. His hands were shaking, she noticed, and his eyes were cold. He took Minki by the arms, gripping them tightly until they hurt. ‘I want you to understand something, Minki. What has happened to Clara is nothing to do with me. I am not in charge of medical policy. These directives come straight from the Reich Chancellery. They are the work of physicians, not just politicians. Physicians who believe that it is right – no…it is ourduty– to remove physically and mentally impaired people from our society.’ He nodded towards Hitler’s headquarters on the opposite side of the road. ‘To be clear – this was not my decision.’
Tears of fear and frustration were now pouring down Minki’s cheeks. ‘But you’ve encouraged it, Joe…with your films and documentaries and articles. You’ve spent years softening the public up to accept eugenics. You know you have.’
‘You’re upset. I understand that, but nothing will be achieved by you ranting in this way. I think you should leave now.’ He released her arms suddenly, and returned to his desk, picking up his cigarette and inhaling deeply. He studied her for a moment. ‘It’s such a shame…you used to be an attractive woman. I did care for you once, but now…’ he shook his head, ‘you’re just an embarrassment.’
He pressed an intercom buzzer and the youngest of the three secretaries materialised at the door. ‘Ah, Helga, please take Frau vonZeller back to reception.’
Faced with such a harsh rejection, Minki felt a sudden visceral hatred for her old lover. With apparently nothing left to lose, she angrily stubbed out her cigarette on the top of his desk, leaving a small black hole in the tooled green leather. ‘So that’s it, is it? My little daughter, who has been stolen by the authorities, is to be sacrificed on the altar of your Party’s belief that anyone with a disability, however slight, is to be removed from society. You’d better watch out, Joe, or someone might take you away in the middle of the night for having a club foot.’
‘Don’t make things worse for yourself,’ he replied coldly. ‘Just get out.’
The secretary nervously approached her. ‘Frau vonZeller…please.’ The girl’s voice was calm and gentle; she took Minki’s arm and guided her across the office. But at the door Minki turned round. ‘I wish I had never met you, Joseph Goebbels – you are an unscrupulous, corrupt, evil man, who will do anything for power. And one day, I hope one of your children suffers the way Clara is suffering now.’
The secretary manoeuvred Minki into the outer office, and closed the door behind them. She then led Minki, sobbing, out of the office and down the corridor. In reception, she didn’t leave Minki at the main entrance but took her arm and guided her out into the street. ‘Come with me, please.’
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Just away from here – please…’
She led Minki down a narrow passageway at the side of the building, stopping outside a service entrance. ‘We must be quick… I can’t be seen with you. But I couldn’t help overhearing – your daughter, has she been taken?’
‘Yes.’ Minki was weeping. ‘She has epilepsy and they took her away and won’t tell me where she is. Clara’s only nine years old. I had hoped Joseph might help…we were lovers once, you know.’
The young girl looked around her nervously, checking they were alone. ‘I really shouldn’t say anything, but have you heard of T4?’
‘T4? No, what is T4?’
‘Aktion T4. It stands for Tiergartenstrasse, the name of the road overlooking the park. Number four is the headquarters of where they decide who is taken and where they’re sent.’
‘You mean there’s a whole department organising this?’
Suddenly the service doors swung open and an SS guard manoeuvred a metal trolley full of files out of the building. He stopped for a moment, looking suspiciously at the pair, before wheeling the trolley away up the passageway.
‘I must get back,’ said the girl. ‘I can’t say any more.’
She headed back towards the main entrance, but Minki followed her. ‘This place in Tiergartenstrasse…can I go there? Will they tell me anything? Who’s in charge?’
‘I really don’t know…it’s top secret.’ The girl quickened her pace, but when she reached the main road she turned round and called out, ‘I hope you find her. Good luck.’
34
LONDON
September 1941
